Victoria's Darkness: A Waltz Through Steam

[Kuro]

Six beings sat in their white-and-gold thrones in the white void of a room, the only exits a single, round window and one door that blended with the wall so perfectly that it was impossible to spot. Five of them wore perfect white suits and gloves. Their masks were smooth and white, save for the unique symbol printed upon each one. Gold wrapped itself in and around them, forming itself around their bodies. For one Executive, beams of gold wrapped around its chest and stretched out from behind its mask in a way reminiscent of wings. Another had the gold circling its arms and torso and stretching out from behind its back as two long beams of glory that extended far beyond its head. Another had the gold form a shining halo above its head and wrap itself around its chest. All in all, they had the appearance of divinity, higher beings that were beautiful in ways most surreal, perhaps even alien. They were not mortals...and they knew it.

And yet at the end of the long, rectangular table was someone who looked completely different. His appearance was more fitting to that of an earthly king rather than a higher one. Whether it was the white coat lined with fur and vivid fiery patterns, the crimson suit underneath with the deep purple ascot, or perhaps even the crown of red, gold, and jewels upon his head, he was an image of royalty. While the others stood upright in their chairs, he leaned on his and laid his head on the back of his hand, looking lethargic or bored. A gold covered his features save for his silvery eyes. He was, of course, Slythe Arkady, the C.E.O of Arkady Industries, the most lucrative and powerful corporation in the world.

And before him were five of his seven Executives, those who managed the divisions of his company. Pride spoke, the sounds coming out of its mouth like those of the others: A harmony of a multitude of lovely voices, all saying the same words in a beautiful symphony.

"And so, the great walls of Victoria have been breached."

He hated them. Every time a meeting was held, every time he had to listen to them, every time he had to even be around them, he wanted to destroy them. The thoughts of listening to their death throes and watching their bodies fall raced through his mind as Greed responded.

"They were not breached, they were entered. I thought that you would been able to have caught onto such a technical detail; I suppose not."

He wanted them out of his face and out of his world. He loathed them with a passion.

"Of course the walls were not breached, such a feat is impossible." Wrath scolded. "We had opened the entrance to the incoming Arkadian airship. You cannot breach an open door. Our walls are just as impenetrable to the outside world as is your head to any intelligent thought."

In sheer contrast to the melody of their words, a cacophony of noise and cackling burst out of one particular Executive, one that looked different from the others of its station. While it still wore the white suit and mask, two golden cylindrical tanks with a golden valve on each were attached to its back. Two tubes from each tank were connected to the lower sides of the mask, near its nose and mouth. Occasionally, it could be seen turning one of the valves and an intake of gas could be heard. The laughter stopped and the voices behind it found their turn to speak.

"We have nothing to worry about. For the moment, let us look at the facts. First, something came in before the airship did. It shot through and -"

"In a display of the effectiveness and reliability of the work of the Division of Internal Security, it was shot down. Of course, we did not completely destroy it. After all, it must be studied and analyzed. Never before has anything unexpected arrived here; I am certain that Envy would agree with me in my decision to keep it partly intact, were he not so busy...micromanaging his inferiors."

The room became quiet after Wrath finished that sentence, everyone's minds momentarily wandering to thoughts of Envy's unconventional work ethics.

"Yes yes yes, the crash site of the unidentified flying object - we shall be calling it a U.F.O for the time being - has been located and appropriate measures have been taken. It shall be captured and brought to my facilities soon eno -"

"Your facilities? You are not a researcher, you are a processor. You do not study, you partake of a less challenging task: You filter. Remember your place, Lust."

Lust's glare could be seen regardless of any mask. It turned a valve on its gas tank and chuckled, its mood changing back into a light-hearted one.

"And you would do well to remember yours, Pride. We are discussing business, so if you could so kindly refrain from speaking against something as irrelevant as position, then may we move on? I would love to actually learn something today."

Sloth drummed its fingers on the table, a tinge of apathy in his voice as he continued. "The second fact is that the airship that had come through had acted erratically midway through its course. It had suddenly tossed and turned before dropping from the sky. It regained the appropriate altitude soon enough, but it then sped through the open entrance with a most unsafe speed. By the time it had made it through out of the tunnel, it was mere wreckage gliding in the sky. As Wrath will most likely point attempt to point out", continued Sloth as it prevented Wrath from interrupting, "the ship was mostly shot down. If the security systems were as efficient as Wrath claims they are, then the damage has been minimized while keeping as much of the curiosity as intact for possible."

"How do you know that you didn't vaporize the ones piloting it? What if you removed the only living ones in the ship?"

The Executives turned at the voice of their ruler, having been used to him being a man of loud, magnificent speeches everywhere except for in this room, where he would always say so little. It was because such apathy infuriated the Executives. This always made Slythe smile.

"My defenses would not have made such a childish mistake."

And of course, no actual answer to his question.

"And now, the final fact of the day. After but a few moments of searching, the airship was identified. It is...Jackal's."

The room was silent.

For a moment. And then it burst into the laughter of a thousand voices. Each executive, each with their own symphony of voices, laughed and laughed and laughed. The volume of such noise in just one room made it seem all the more louder. And despite all of this, Slythe's own booming laughter could be heard above it all. Such behavior continued for at least a minute before they began to settle down.

"Oh..oh...oh...I can't...Ah, hah hah hah hah...Oh...hah. Hah. Yes. Oh, this is excellent! Jackal's? Jackal, you say?! HAH! Oh, this is almost too good to be true." For the first time in a long time, a meeting had brightened his day. "Oh, splendid! Magnificent! Capture him at once! I want him to be brought right before me, tatters and all! How must he look right now, admist the rubble of his ship? Oh, I wish I could see it now!" He laughed again, the Executives joining him as they thought of their dear old friend.

---

When Mr. Dark opened his eyes, he saw smoke and rubble. The dust of such destruction was still settling, not letting him see much of anything around him. At the moment, all he could see was that he was in a crash site. Pieces of the ship, large and small, were scattered, some even sticking out of the ground and the buildings around them. Rubble was everywhere, as it should be for the crash site of such a tremendous airship.

And with that thought, he noticed the error. He looked around again. What was around them? Rubble and broken pieces, but...that couldn't possibly have been enough. The ship was far bigger than what was around them. He could still see the ground. The solid gold ground.

The dust began to clear and as it did, some new facts could be seen.

They had crashed into a road made out of solid gold. The buildings on the sides of the road all reached for the sky like towers, each and every one of them either silver, gold or a mix, all of them spotless and gleaming save for those that were affected by the crash. Some of the buildings now had parts of the airship's hull sticking out of them and smoke began to rise. The smoke from the crash was not the only thing rising; steam and traces of smog could be seen in the white sky, mainly coming out of pipes protruding from the tops of the buildings. The sky they rose to was not the one that any outsiders knew; it was completely snow-white, not a single feature in the sky, all of it just one tone distributed evenly. Edges and outlines of monuments to construction and scale could be seen in the distance, with one particular building standing out; a single, golden skyscraper that towered over anything else in this festival of massive and grand architecture.

Distracted by such different sights, it took him a moment to see those who had appeared at the crash site. Surrounding the rubble at safe distances were what he supposed were men and women dressed in regal clothing of the richest colors and the finest materials. On each and every one of their faces was a white mask that was twisted and gnarled into a sick exaggeration of whatever emotion. Each mask was different and just as grotesque, whether it be the look of sadness or the snarling of anger. Through their actions though, they seemed curious. They were muttering to each other, as is the average voice of any mob of bystanders. Some sounded curious, some seemed appalled, and others handed money to each other while mentioning something about "betting on their survival".

As far as Mr. Dark could tell, no security had been sent yet. No forces. Nothing but Victorians.

"Oh..h-heh...Ah, hah...My grand entrance seems to have been noticed...as it should be. Heh."

Jackal muttered to himself. While the crash had been noticed, apparently the bystanders had not yet noticed the sight of one of their own in the wreckage. One of their own. Heh. He looked around, his clothes torn up and covered in soot and dust. Even his mask, which was still on, was now smeared with gray and black. He made sure to talk not too loud lest he be noticed before he wanted to be.

"Is everyone okay?"

---

Elsewhere in the city, Wolf's remains laid broken and scattered on a golden street. He had been hit by a laser when he had flown into the city, vaporizing almost half of his entire body. That had made the crash site much smaller and much more manageable for the robots that were to fix it later. For now, the cyborg was surrounded not by curious Victorians but by silver androids that very closely resembled humans, much more than those in the mall or the airship. These were taller, made up of more fluid lines, and held a sleeker design, but like the previous robots, these had the Arkady logo in place of a face. There must have been at least thirty, some of them floating in the air through the propulsion of the flames shooting out from their feet, and they all had accusing and glowing fingers pointed at the wounded intruder. Not a single Victorian could be seen, but a shadow began to fall over the site. Something was flying over Wolf, and it was pumping out smog into the air at a steady rate. The heavy sound of spinning rotors flooded the air. It was unclear just what was the source of light in Victoria as the sun could not be seen, but whatever it was it must have been high in the sky because the bottom of the vehicle could only be seen as a silhouette to the one below it. To those elsewhere in the city, it would not be seen as it was below the skyline of the enormous structures on the sides of the streets.

Claws came down from the sky towards the cyborg, gently and quietly against the noise the ship was already making. The claws were open and intended to grip the various limbs and ends of the cyborg so that they could be sent into the darkness of the ship's inside through the open space on its bottom through which they had came. All the while, the robots pointed their fingers at the cyborg, ready to fire their lasers at any time.

[CJ]

A gigantic web of metal surrounded them, reflecting dull against the golden street.

It seemed Silver inspired more out of the sword than the metallic spider it had formed before. At Mr. Dark's command, the sword expanded across the room, engulfing everyone it could into a mess of steel.

It formed a barrier about the crew, possibly protecting some, if not all, of them from the wreckage. Unsurprisingly, it couldn't protect Kara, even if it wanted to.

"Wee," a small voice said, calling out to Mr. Dark and the others. "The Prince didn't do exactly what Mask Man wanted, did he?"

Kusu seemed relatively sound. She wheezed a little but otherwise seemed OK. She rolled about the piece of the ship she was on and hugged her wings about her.

"I feel left out on this island," she said, scratching her chin. "Everyone wears such interesting masks."

The metal web slumped down slowly and shrunk to a small puddle on the ground. It seemed tired, exhausted even. That wasn't going to stop Kusu from commanding it more, though. Brushing debris out of her hair, she grinned widely.

"Silly sword, become a mask! I want one!"

The puddle jumped to her face in a face. It formed a mask around her eyes, allowing her beak nose to poke out. Metal feathers fanned out of the side of the piece.

"You, citizens, can call me the Metallic Falcon!" she addressed the Victorians, standing proudly on top of some of the wreckage. "I'm so original and cool!"

Kusu paused and clapped her hands once.

"Oh yeah, is everyone OK besides Mask Man here? Did anyone see where Wolf went? He can fly like me so maybe he was going somewhere else."

[Shark a' Pult]

"I'm fine... I think. But..."

Crawling forward from some parts of wreckage that followed him into the protective cage, Kalen climbed to his feet to try and get a good look around. He had to shield his eyes though, because after coming from the airship interior and the dreary sky, the gleam of the silver and gold city was too much for him at first. It took some getting adjusted to, and he didn't even notice the citizens yet. This sudden visual assault caused him to withdraw back a bit, clearly too much for such a rapid transition.

"...where are we? This isn't like any place I've ever seen, or heard of. We were in the ship, but now... what's wrong with the sky?"

Looking far above, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The last he had seen of the outside, the snowy skies, was entirely dissimilar to this. He couldn't understand what he was seeing, but certainly he couldn't fathom that it might actually be a roof above them. As far as he could tell, he was looking at some strange phenomena which caused the sky to be totally white, possibly related to all the smoke the buildings were putting out? And those buildings, he had never seen such things before, to be able to build so tall... all of these new sights and experiences, and the shepherd boy couldn't help but feel a little frightened.

Whatever the case, he didn't yet seem to notice the metal bar of scrap that was sticking out of his left flank, staining his jacket there red.

[Hitotsumami]

Darkness.

Metal scraping metal.

The shrill sound of a crash.

Samuel stood in front of a giant wolf. No, he'd compare it more to a monster, for no vicious wolf in this world could bear its fangs to the creature before him. It smiled down at Samuel. Its claws were outstretched, one on each of his sides. Before he could yell out to stop it, they slammed against him, crushing him. It lifted him up into the air, then dropped him into a wrecked, dismantled figure.

"My name is Fenrir," said the giant wolf. "The ancient weapon of rage. Why do you still not accept that we are now bound?"

"We are not together," muttered Wolf. His voice was crackling, like fresh firewood thrown into a raging inferno. "Leave me alone!"

"You'll die without me. Just like always. You can do nothing by yourself."

"I'd rather die than rely on you. Last time I let you have control, I almost lost all of my companions."

"And you'll lose them again if you deny me."

"No! I can make it on my own! I don't need your power."

The wolf chuckled like a deep rumbling thunder. "Then lets see what you got!"

---

A sudden whirring noise began whizzing from inside the scrapped heap of a body which was Wolf. One of his cracked lensed eyes began to glow a soft red.

Systems check... Consciousness restored.

Well, that was a start. His vision, however, was still very blurry. He was, after all, relying on only one eye. Wolf attempted to move his legs, to stand, but to his horror, he felt no response.

Systems unresponsive. Front legs, unresponsive. Missing.

Wolf's single red lens tilted to see his lower half. To his horror, both of his legs were completely gone.

Left arm. Missing. Right arm. Missing from the elbow joint down.

Wolf looked again at his arms. It was just as his systems said. His left arm was completely gone, like his legs, and what was left of his right arm was useless.

Torso. Heavily damaged. Head. Fair shape. The brain has been protected from impact.

Damn it, cursed Wolf, though is mouth did not open and no sound escaped his lips. As far as he could tell, he was completely destroyed. But it wouldn't stay this way. There was still one more thing the systems had to check.

Regeneration capabilities. Possible. Booting up now.

That was a relief at least, thought not much of one. He may be able to reform his body, but in no good time. He tried to look around again, but he couldn't tell where he was or what was going on. The last thing he remembered was that his rocket boots went haywire and he shot himself into Victoria. After that... nothing. Where was Kusu? Where was the rest of the crew? Were they safe?

Then he saw a claw come from above. Even if Wolf wanted to stop it, he wouldn't be able to, not in his current condition. It would end up picking him up and dragging him away.

Unless he relied on it... He but he did not.

[Kyubey]

A small coughing sound came from the rubble, before Lynwood stood up, her legs shaking as she tried to get herself upright. She coughed again, her hand raised up to her mouth. To her, it wasn't surprising she would be so disoriented right after surviving an airship crash. It was amazing she could even stand up at all. Aside from a few natural bruises, outwardly she seemed to be unharmed. More importantly, she had to make sure everyone else was safe. After a quick look around in between coughs, it seemed to be the case. Perhaps. For some reason, she was finding it rather hard to focus on any one thing. Her mind felt... clouded. She wasn't sure why right away, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant sensation.

"Yes... I am okay," was all she managed to get out, before she was suddenly stricken by a severe coughing fit, much worse than the one before.

Right away, this didn't strike her as being too out of the ordinary. The crash would have kicked up a lot of dust, and she must have inhaled quite a bit of it. But why did it feel like there was still so much of it in the air, and why was it preventing her ability to think straight?

It took her a few moments to realize it wasn't just dust she was breathing in. There was something else in the air. Something strange and foreign to her. Something that her body was completely unused to. And it was possibly killing her.

Her throat felt dry by this point, and the hacking coughs only became worse and more frequent. She reached out with her right hand, trying to find something to steady herself on, for she felt as though she was about to fall over at any moment. Her voice sounded terrible, as if each cough was tearing it up just a little bit more. The coughs were intermixed with helpless gasps for air, and at times she made a noise like she wanted to say something to the others, but was unable to.

To anyone paying attention to her, it would be clear that there was something very wrong with her.

[Mise™]

"That was a huge fucking disappointment." The ship didn't quite live up to the high standards of prince Karalisk as it couldn't take some minor abuse and got broken so easily. His Highness was buried under a few tons of rubble as the cockpit had been hidden deep within the ship and once it collapsed a lot fell on to Karalisk's shoulders. The prince didn't lie there for too long though as he used his strength to push all the garbage on top of him away and soon found himself on a street of the capitalist wonderland of Victoria, land of gold and pollution.

Karalisk was covered in bruises, scalds and other kinds of wounds; which meant that he looked about the same he usually did at this time of the day. At least His Highness had placed a wig on his head to cover his sudden baldness; the wig didn't look very different from how the prince's hair had looked earlier today. The prince still lacked eyebrows though.

"Well this place looks like fucking ass... Who would have fucking guessed?" Karalisk spoke as he looked around and lit one of his signature cigars. The prince was now sitting on top of the remains of the airship he had arrived here a moment ago.

"*cough*"

[Kuro]

"Just what...agh...I am starting to regret all of this. Is everyone - Kalen!"

The half-spider easily threw the rubble off of herself and skittered over to the shepherd, somehow noticing the metal bar sticking out of him before he did. She looked to the boy in surprise, her eyes darting between his calm face and his wound. "H-how...how are you...never mind. I, uh, p-please hold, uh, still, Kalen, please." She grasped the metal bar with one hand. "This m-might..." She looked away, trying to think of a word that wouldn't be so bad. "...sting."

She pulled the bar out of his flank in one swift, fluid motion and threw it to the side. Fortunately, she was too busy being distracted by Kalen's health to see the hundreds of eyes gazing at her and the others. The appearance of the spidergirl had not actually gotten much of a reaction out of the crowd, nothing more than a few murmurs and questions sharing the words Lust and Envy. At the moment, the crowd seemed to be content with just looking at the new sight from a safe distance, pointing and talking amongst themselves, some light laughter heard in the mass of curious spectators. Kusu's announcement of her "Metallic Falcon" identity generated more laughter, as would any decent circus act.

Jackal looked around, still unnoticed by the Victorians. After all, he was more or less hiding around the rubble and behind the pirates, his mask and clothes covered in soot. Despite the crash, things were coming along rather well. It would be rather rubbish for him to come back to his people as some filthy thing that came crawling out of a crashed ship, so it was for the best that they had not yet spotted him. Oh, the blind fools, too distracted by some child and spidery novelty to pay attention to who was undoubtedly the most important person in the group. Oh, what little childre -

He turned to the sound of coughing. No, not coughing, hacking, horrible hacking. What in the world was that? His eyes widened behind his mask at the sight of Lynwood about to fall over. He came to her side and acted as a support, steadying her as she kept coughing and coughing. "Lynwood? What's wrong? Why are you - What's wrong with you? Are you, are you..." He looked at her, confused in every way behind the deformed smile on his mask. What was happening?! This wasn't part of the plan, this wasn't ever expected! They weren't supposed to show any sort of pain for several hours! She shouldn't have been having such an adverse reaction to the city's air, what, had she never been in a city before?!

Ah, she was going to die, she was going to die, an entire asset was going to disappear, Lynwood was going to disappear, what was this?! Still holding up Lynwood, his eyes darted back and forth across the rubble, looking for one of the gas masks he had brought for the trip. Oh, of course it wasn't there, of course one wouldn't just pop up in front of him. Oh, what to do, what to do?!

Lynwood would immediately be able to take in a breath of fresh air. Something cold and hard was on her face, something that suddenly changed the air she was breathing. There was something hidden inside the mask itself, something that was getting rid of all of the contaminants and foreign materials. Lynwood's breathing was no longer impaired, although her sight was a little limited, especially with someone rubbing a handkerchief all over the thing on her face.

"There there...just dirtying up the mask a bit more so that no one can notice it, no one can tell its one of the pearly-white Victorian faces. Just don't say a word, don't clean a bit", Jackal whispered. He stepped back and admired his work, having turned the mask almost completely gray and black, hiding its deformed features. Lynwood would not be able to look at Jackal's own face though; he did an admirable job of hiding it behind his gloved hands,revealing only bits of pale skin and the emerald eyes peeking through the gaps of his fingers. "Oh, good, good...Now then, while they're distracted..." He looked down to hide his face and began to tear at his clothes, although he appeared to be careful about it and took care to not damage his gloves. In fact, by the time he finished, while he was now only wearing tatters of his purple coat, and had dirtied up the rest of his clothes, he had not done any damage to the clothes underneath; none of his skin showed still besides the bits of his face, which he now covered up with his hands again. He hid behind the other pirates again, whispering to Kusu.

"Do not tell them of my identity, I must remain a secret until the right time. Most likely, they will send someone to take us to the - Oh, there they are now."

---

"...a beauty...a real...yes...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The burst of laughter, which had sounded as if it had come from multiple people, was one of the first things Wolf would hear after an indeterminate amount of time spent in darkness and silence; when he had been brought into the vehicle, some sort of metal mask devoid of any holes or visors had been clamped onto his face, giving him nothing to see during the transportation. After the laughter, there were the sounds of doors opening and closing, of metal feet stepping across metal floors. The sounds of machines working in the background, whirring and clicking and clanking. Another burst of laughter, the same melody of voices as before. More doors opening and closing, the machines growing louder and louder, until one final set of doors closed. And then, an angelic choir spoke.

"Yes, yes, this is it! Ah ha, ha ha ha, HA HA HA HA! Oh, they were probably going to take you to Pride, weren't they, so he could show it off to Slythe? Maybe put it in Greed's collection, maybe give you to the others for whatever inane reason? Ha ha! Oh, don't worry, you're safe with me. Well...perhaps not safe. Ah ha, ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha!"

The heavenly quality of its many voices conflicted with its words. Wolf still couldn't hear a thing, but he could definitely hear the multitude of machines all around him: the clicking, the whirring, the clanking and the clacking. So many of them, all working at once, the choir of voices speaking amongst them.

"Perhaps formal greetings are necessary. I am Lust, Executive of the Department of Resource Development. You have no idea what that means, do you? No, nothing as fancy or clear-cut as Envy's Department of Scientific Advancement, nothing so prestigious, of course not. According to the Board, my talents are better suited not in the art of theories and blueprints, but in this. Oh, wait. You cannot even see what 'this' is. At the moment, you do not need to see anything. First, you will have the honor of speaking to me some moments more. I am going to ask you some questions, Fenrir, or whatever it is that you call yourself now."

A nostalgic, perhaps wistful sigh. "Oh, look at you. So outdated. So old. It has been quite the while since I have remembered anything without...without..."

There was a turning of a valve and a hiss of gas. Lust laughed again, all of his voices laughing with him in pure bliss.

---

It was quite odd, when one thought about it, that the sky was such a flawless white when so much smog and smoke both black and white were pouring into the air at an endless rate. While matters of crashed ships and curious Victorians occurred on the ground, small machines flew through the air, only about two meters wide and a meter or so tall. They looked like an assortment of large fans
and pipes flying through the air, propelled by the steam coming out of the pipes. The pollution that came out of the buildings and machines of the city rose into the sky at a continuous rate, but they did not go too far before being sucked in by the pipes of the machines. As the pollutants were sucked into one pipe of a machine, something came out of another pipe to replace it. What came out of that pipe was significantly better, but nowhere near the quality of fresh air, indeed, it was still full of poisons. But it was colorless unlike the black smog, so it looked better, which was really all that mattered to the Victorians. The skies were such a flawless white not just because of such "filtration", but because the city was surrounded by white walls of almost incomprehensible size, which were being cleaned every second by different machines, each of them too small to be noticed from a distance.

The Victorians cared little about this, as long as their city looked perfect. Many of these Victorians were watching the spectacle that had crashed into their land, and oddly enough, that crowd began to part. Something was coming through.

It was eight feet tall and floated several inches above the ground, not a single part of his feet ever touching the golden road. It was a white smoke shooting out of his shoes that propelled him ever so gently into the air, and this same smoke began to spread across the floor, covering it in a sort of mist as a sign of his presence. He wore the white suit and golden accessories of those the Victorians knew so well, his chest wrapped in golden tendrils that formed two, long vertical bars on his back, rising far above his head. On his head was a white, smooth mask that would have been featureless were it not for the black symbol on it, which resembled a pair of crossed swords. Four orbs with pipes on them floated around him, also kept in the air through white smoke, steam occasionally hissing and shooting from their pipes as they did nothing but linger about the figure of gold and white.

He came close to the group, stopping only a few feet away from the Metallic Falcon. He looked at them with his blank gaze, his head moving ever so slightly as he analyzed the intruders. Jackal tried to stay in the back of the crowd, away from his sight.

The figure raised a finger and pointed it in the direction of the man in exquisite tatters. A blue light shone for just a moment before a beam of light shot out.

"Ack!"

The laser hit the golden ground in front of Jackal, making him jump out of surprise and take his hands off of his face. It took him a moment to realize what he had done, but before he could put his hands back to his face, a choir spoke.

"Don't."

Jackal stared at him, his hands inches away from his face. Slowly, rigidly, he put them to his sides, although the discomfort was shown all over him. His face was long and pale, bags under his large eyes of an emerald color, his lips ashen and his brow covered in sweat that was still forming. His lone nose and high cheekbones gave him a regal look, but the expression on his face was that of trepidation, of caution rather than fear.

"Greetings, Jackal." It sounded as if everyone in the crowd gasped at that moment, a lot of them even putting their hands to their mouths in surprise. This lasted for a few moments before they all burst out into laughter. Cackling was a better word for it; it was not a merry sound of joy but a cacophony of cruel shrieks and sharp noises. The result of a crowd of people doing this at once resulted in something that sounded not unlike nails on a chalkboard. It was loud, and only got louder and louder by the second. Fingers were pointed and Jackal's name was repeated over and over again between gasps for air and breaks in laughter. Even the floating figure gave a chuckle.

"Jackal. I should be given an award for being able to say your name with a straight face. Speaking of faces, it seems as if you are missing one. How humiliating. Was it lost in your crash? We already know that you are incompetent, Jackal; you had no need to prove it even further to us with this disaster. A disaster that only a mind such as yours could have come up with, I admit. Not everyone has such a talent for failure as you do."

The cackling grew louder, with Jackal's expression growing all the more worried. This was not part of the plan. This was not part of the plan. This was not part of the plan!

"Oh, Jackal...what pathetic things have you brought with you? Introduce yourselves properly, mortals. You have stumbled upon a land of the gods. I am Wrath. What are you?"

[CJ]

Standing on top of the rubble, Kusu wiped a bit of drool off of her face when she noticed Silver helping Kalen. She grinned ecstatically at the cheering and laughing, thinking the crowd was laughing with them. She even assumed Lynwood was alright and Jackal was just merely trying to throw the people a surprise party.

But then Jackal took off his mask and put it on Lynwood she realized something was off. Mr. Dark might have been able to sense fear in her, thinking perhaps Jackal was trying to hurt her. When she saw Lynwood recover though, she sighed in relief. Her face turned cold as she tried to analyze the situation.

"This isn't fun," she muttered. "This is bullying."

Stretching her wings, she looked up at the new mysterious figure. She assumed Jackal was feeling embarrassed as he was the only one of his kind without a mask. She took a piece of flower patterned cloth from her bag and began to tear it with her talons.

"Gods, eh? Well, Christmas Wreath, I've been called a god before too. Let me tell you, it's not all it's hyped up to me. Stick to aspiring to be a young maiden. That's the best anyone can do."

Sliding down the wreckage, she approached Jackal. In her open talon hybrid hand was two large pieces of cloth, one with holes to wrap around his head to cover his eyes and a larger piece to fully cover his nose and mouth. It was a cheap gift given out of pity and thanks.

"This was accident was not Mask Jack Man's fault. It was my responsibility. You should direct your laughter to me and no one else."

Glancing at Kara, she didn't know what to think. He was the one who caused their distress but she figured lecturing or attacking him wouldn't do any good for the current situation. She merely stuck her tongue out at him.

"Metallic Falcon, Phantom Pirate Roger, Snake Anderson... they call me a lot of things. All you need to know is that I'm Kusu R. Kidd, Captain of the Feather Pirates."

Her wings twitched. The captain seemed eager to get on Wrath's level. The metal mask on her face rippled to stay in its shape.

[Shark a' Pult]

Kalen's focus was drawn to Lynwood coughing her lungs up, but whereupon she was helped out by Jackal, he could rest easy if only for a moment. This chance at peace however was shattered by a sharp, sudden pain. Feeling as though a splinter had been pulled out, Kalen fell to his hands and knees with a yelp, because the splinter was the size of his arm.

"EEEAAAGH! Silver, what did you do to m-"

He didn't catch sight of the bloody pipe that had been ripped out, but his chance to understand what had happened went missed. The arrival of Wrath and the hideous laughter of the crowd aptly drew his attention. Although he had intended to try and properly patch himself up after Silver put a big hole in him, he felt that now was not the time given the circumstances, though he did shift in place so that the was at least sitting down. Taking the chance, he gingerly took off the captain's coat he'd made, and used it to tie a simple knot around himself to at least stem the bleeding for awhile; the best he could do in this situation, under scrutiny. An arm across a propped up knee and clothes soaked in blood, he looked rather defeated. Speaking after Kusu, he wasn't nearly as emphatic. Maybe it was the crash that got to him, maybe it was all these people laughing at them, or maybe it was something else.

"Kalen... my name's Kalen. I thought I was a captain, but I'm just a shepherd. Only... I don't have a staff and I can't find my flock..."

Although he wasn't sure why, he suddenly felt rather homesick, and clutched onto his arm for support.

[Kyubey]

As Jackal rushed to her aid, Lynwood looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. She wanted to speak, but her hacking prevented her from doing so. She understood that he wanted to help, and she knew she needed it, but how could she be helped, when the air itself seemed to be her foe?

She shuddered as Jackal put the mask on her, flinching at the touch of the cold, uncaring metal. But soon after, the coughing calmed down and then stopped entirely, and Lynwood took several deep gasps for air. Behind the mask her eyes widened with surprise, amazed at what had just happened. She was still a little dazed from her hacking fit, but she no longer had any reason to fear for her life. Wearing such a mask wasn't exactly something she wanted, but in those circumstances, she accepted it gladly.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, her voice ragged and pained, yet uplifting.

At first, on top of her relief at being able to take in what seemed to be fresh air, Lynwood felt several times more grateful when she saw Jackal tearing at his clothes, and she realized that, in giving her protection against the poisonous air of Victoria, he had deprived himself of his own mask. Though earlier she had made it something of a goal to get Jackal to remove the mask voluntarily, she now felt bad for making him relinquish something important to him. The masks clearly held a great deal of value in his culture for him to be wearing it even outside of Victoria, so giving it to her must have been hard for him. She could understand why Jackal would want to conceal his face so badly. She very well knew the feeling of needing to keep something hidden away that most people shared openly.

But what time she had to dwell on that was cut short, when a large metallic monstrosity with many voices appeared before her and the others. It did seem strange and frightening to her, particularly because she still held onto her dislike of machinery, but given all that she had seen recently, she was able to subdue her unease. The multitude of voices with which Wrath spoke gave another dimension to its intimidating nature, and reminded Lynwood of some sort of vengeful god or spirit, but, like everything else about it and the country it came from, it was probably the work of mere human hands. What was most disturbing to her was not the voices of Wrath, but the wicked cackling of the Victorians as they laughed cruelly at Jackal.

"This is bullying."

"Indeed it is," Lynwood replied, her mask facing Kusu before turning to the throngs of masked onlookers. "Stop this!" she said to them, "Have you forgotten that this man you're laughing at is one of you?" The mask on her face betrayed no emotions, but her right hand was making a fist and trembling slightly. That these people would so openly mock one of their own was incomprehensible and unforgivable to the Urdian. Though Lynwood did disagree with much of what Jackal had to say, they did share a moment of friendship, and now she possibly owed him her life. She felt as though she couldn't just stand by as his own people cackled at him.

When Wrath asked for their names, Lynwood noticed how quick her crewmates were to reveal their identities. Then again, it wasn't as though they had no reason to. After all, Wrath did give his name before asking, so if nothing else, responding in turn was simply the most decent thing to do.

"I am Lynwood, a hunter in the service of the Feather Pirates."

Normally in times like these, it was not uncommon for Lynwood to also identify herself as last of the Urdians, but for whatever reason, this time she left out that detail.

[Hitotsumami]

Wolf, if he was a regular person, wouldn't be able to hear anything this strange fellow in front of him was saying if he had been a regular person. Even as a cyborg, he had some issues making out the man's words. The actual words came through his processed mines in jitters, and he barely caught the first and last of sentences.

However, even if he couldn't make out the odd voice, or voices, he definitely got the point.

Fenrir!? Wolf throught in his mind. He couldn't believe it. What connection did Victoria have with Fenrir, the ancient weapon inside him? It was just like on the Poneglyph that Hito read to him. This city definitely held clues to his true self.

Let me talk to him, said a deep, growling voice deep inside Wolf's head.

What do you know about this city? Wolf shot back.

Shut up, and let me talk to him.

I won't let you have control anymore. Not after that time...

Listen! I promise I won't go berserk. I just want to talk, that's all.

But my systems haven't fully repaired. You wouldn't be able to even if you wanted.

Oh yeah? Is that some kind of challenge? Then watch this.

Instantly after, Wolf's head would seem to twist and contort at painful looking angles, almost twisting a full 360 degrees before snapping back into place. Two front panels on Wolf's face opened up, revealing a metal skeletal form underneath. His eyes began to glow red.

"Hello," said Fenrir. A deep chuckle resonated form the hole in the center of Wolf's face. Behind the echo was the sound of metal scraping metal. "I would say it was a pleasure to be back in Victoria, but that would be nothing but a lie. This city has never given me anything. Just taken away. But, perhaps I'm wrong."

The circular hole in Wolf's face suddenly cracked, small pieces of metal falling to the ground. The rough outline of a wicked smile made completely out of sharp, cracking metal was now on his face.

"Perhaps it's good that I'm back. Now I can finally destroy this cursed city, once and for all."

In Wolf's mind, Wolf was yelling at Fenrir to go back, to give him control again. He didn't want anything to happen. Not again. But he couldn't see or feel. He could only hear Fenrir's voice as if a distant echo.

He was alone and powerless in the darkness.

[Mise™]

"*couch*"

Prince Karalisk ignored Wrath who asked around who everyone was. There was no point in answering such stupid questions; everyone should know the great prince of Coryphaeus, he was the only good thing is this sad little world, after all. Only people who wouldn't know such a great man would be idiots.

Other than smoking his cigar His Highness did absolutely nothing.

"*cough*"

[Kuro]

"This isn't fun. This is bullying."

As the Victorians continued to laugh, Wrath scoffed and listened as the child tried to explain everything. He made no protest to her giving the Victorian next to her a new mask. Jackal could only stare at the gift for a bit, his initial expression that of disdain and confusion. The last thing anyone would have seen before he covered his mouth however was a grateful, yet rather sad and pained smile. Mr. Dark saw it, but said nothing. At the moment, he wanted to know more about his surroundings, namely the Victorians around them. He wanted to study their reactions to everything before he made any decisions. He saw Silver apologizing to Kalen about the pain from taking the debris out of him, and while Wrath may have paid little attention to the words of a lowly shepherd, Mr. Dark noticed his change in tone. His entire change in manner. He also noticed that Silver chose not to introduce herself, instead staying silent.

When Lynwood yelled at the crowd, something that the boogeyman attributed to her the close and bonded nature of the people of her culture, the Victorian's reactions were mixed. Some laughed even harder, but now Mr. Dark could hear something else: Hisses and words of scorn directed at she who would say what she had. Wrath himself spoke with irritation in each of his many voices, as if reprimanding an unruly child.

"Insolent whelp! You know nothing and you would judge us, those who are higher than you in every aspect of this world and beyond. I can only assume that Jackal told you naught of his reputation in this divine realm."

Jackal glared at the Executive, keeping a steady gaze on him, cautious as he attempted to stand his ground.

"The Victorian next to you is undeserving of the name. He is undeserving of any praise or respect. Time and time again, he has proven that he is truly the most incompetent embarrassment to ever be spawned from these lands. Did you really think that this was his first ever attempt to rise to power?"

Jackal slowly took a single step back. At the same time, Mr. Dark took a step towards the man of floral cloth while listening to the new developments Wrath was revealing.

"Such attempts from him are many in number, each one memorable in just how badly they failed. It would be a waste of my valuable time to detail such disasters to a savage such as you. Perhaps Jackal can tell you himself later."

Jackal was trying to stand strong, but his body was trembling. Because of how near Lynwood was to him, she would be able to see something in his eyes if she happened to look. In them, Mr. Dark saw sorrow, pain, and most of all, a cold fury.

"It is unfortunate for you all that the first Victorian you met, the one that you allied yourselves with, is the most useless and inept of us all. Then again, he was the only Victorian to have ever been exiled from this place, so there is no helping it."

While Wrath's voice was serious in tone, the Victorians laughed again. It was when the child told her name that the laughter began to fade. The volume became quieter. It wasn't that they had laughed themselves out, there was no joy or merriment as their chuckles and ha's became sparse. After half a minute of such change, silence fell. Behind their grinning, roaring, or weeping masks, the Victorians stopped making any movement or noise. As Mr. Dark's eyes swept the crowd, he noticed something.

They were tense. They all were, Wrath included, and it showed in his voices.

"...You are Kusu R. Kidd?"

Mr. Dark searched the figure for any particular body language. Oddly enough, there was none. He just floated in place.

"...The destroyer of Regala. The leader of the Phantom Hawks."

A shift of something in his peripheral. Mr. Dark looked to the side and saw some of the Victorians shuffle uncomfortably. Something was going to happen.

"And you have allied yourself...with Jackal."

It was a surprise to Mr. Dark as to who spoke first, and with both confidence and a cruel glee in its voice, a glee not very different from the one in the previous laughter.

"Yes. Yes they have."

And with that, there was a sudden burst of clicks.

Hidden blades, as wide as an arm and as long as a dagger, sprung out from their arms and extended beyond their fists. In a loud flurry of movement, all of the Victorians had extended their hands towards the Feather Pirates and pointed their daggers at them. A large number of the crowd flew into the air, smoke shooting out at a burst and then a steady rate to keep them in the air. They weren't close enough to reach any of the pirates, but they could easily fly towards them. Mr. Dark knew that one, two, not even twenty psychotic businessmen with a knife were a problem for the pirates, but there were at least 150 of them, from his count. Not only that, but the metal orbs that had been floating around Wrath were now glowing blue, their lights growing brighter and brighter. If they were the same as the light that had shot out from Wrath's finger, then this would be even more difficult. He looked at the Victorians again and wondered if any of the other pirates could see what he saw; behind their masks, there was a hunger, clear and present in their movements. Their knives were out, ready to cut and tear and slit, most of their wielders moving in place impatiently in their eagerness to murder.

Jackal himself had not taken out any blade, and stood in place with much more confidence than before. Even with the mask on, one could just sense the smirk on his face. "And here I thought that I was of not threat. Thank you for showing mre otherwise, my fellow Victorians. It has been a long time since any of you have feared me as you should." His "fellow Victorians" said nothing, each of them still ready to attack. He looked at Wrath, who had done nothing in response to the Victorians arming themselves, and spoke. "Despite this little show, I think it's clear that regardless of all of your power and might and anger...you can't kill me, can you, Wrath?"

The Executive clenched his fists and tried to keep the anger in his voices, but his fury was overflowing. "You have no power, Jackal. You are nothing more than a joke."

Jackal laughed, his unsettling cackle extremely similar to that of his brethren for obvious reasons, as he took a few steps forward. Mr. Dark could tell from his tone that he was taking a great pleasure in this. "Oh? A joke? Then what are these people, hm? The punchline? Please. Slythe would never let you kill them...and you know it, don't you?"

A multitude of snarls came from the Executive, who floated closer to the group, the cloud of smoke coming from his feet following him. "I could destroy you at any moment."

"But you won't."

Wrath paused. There was only contempt as the faceless Executive and florally-clothed Jackal stared at each other. There was still fear in Jackal's eyes, but there was not nearly as much fear as there was a satisfied joy.

With a flick of his hand, the metal orbs stopped glowing. The Victorians hesitated, but eventually put away their weapons with disappointed groans and sighs mixed in with anger at the newcomers. Another flick of the hand, and one of the metal orbs flew towards Jackal and smashed into the side of his face at an impressive speed. The blow knocked Jackal to the floor with a pained yelp, his hands coming up to hold his hurt face. "Puny insect. You would dare to challenge me." He snarled again before looking at the rest of the pirates. "...You will stay with Jackal, but you are going to wherever I lead you."

Blood was starting to seep through and change the color of the floral cloth. Mr. Dark knelt to his side and looked under the mask to see what kind of damage there was. Judging from the teeth now on the ground, it was clear that Jackal would not be talking at the moment, so the boogeyman turned towards Wrath. "I am Mr. Dark of the Feather Pirates. Where are you taking us?"

"What place else? Armada Tower, of course. You all will have the incredible blessing to meet Slythe Arkady, future master of the world." The orbs glowed blue again and they alternated pointing at the various crewmembers. "Do you have any protest?"

---

Lust wouldn't be able to see any change in Wolf's face, since it was encased in metal. Giggles of women, men, and children sounded as Fenrir spoke. There was a sound of clicking and maybe even a whistle. There was a carefree joy in Lust's voices.

"Ah, Fenrir, as pleasant as always. Eh heh heh, heh. HA HA HA! AH HA, HA HA HA HA!" Another turn of a valve, the sound of hissing. A sigh of relief. "Ahhhhhh...A bit too tight, there, I think. Oh, you are quite full of yourself, are you not? Oh, Fenrir, your memory is even more riddled than mine, and I have been filling mine up with...ah ha, ah ha ha ha. Yes. It sounds as if you have quite the destructive intention, as expected. In but a moment, I shall...yes..."

And then nothing.

For both Wolf and Fenrir, completely nothing. No sound, no feeling, not even thought. Just nothing.

And then the sight began to come back into place. A blur of sights, a blur of gray and silver. A splotch of white on one side, floating above the floor, his back turned. A splotch of red and gold on the left, watching the figure in white. The vision was still blurry and the sounds were just starting to be heard, though only in snippets.

"...oh such a waste...ah ha ha...laughable in every way..."

Laughter.

"Completely...this is truly...oh...?"

The white blob shifted in his vision, touches of gold now starting to be visible.

"Well well well...as woken up."

The white figure came closer and now Wolf's vision was focusing. It was a small room, the walls gray and covered in valves and scientific instruments, all of them sharp. A tray of various machinery could be seen and near it was the figure of white, red, and gold. There was something large in front of him, something that he was blocking Wolf's line of sight to. A light shone in Wolf's eyes and Lust's mask could be clearly seen; a black symbol resembling a hand was on his otherwise faceless head. A tube protruded from each cheek and were both connected to the tubes on his back, each with a valve on top. He turned one and a hiss could be heard, along with a short fit of diverse laughter from the his faceless head.

"I had to deactivate you for the sake of the operation. Does it surprise you? Is it unthinkable that for all of your power, all of your ancient knowledge and high esteem in which you hold yourself, how in spite of all of that, we are able to shut you down in an instant? Ha! You're not even an inconvenience. Eh heh, ah ha, AH HA HA HA!"

There was another laugh, one completely different from the voices of Lust. The other person in the room turned, a shining crown on his head, a red vest and purple ascot under a white coat with flame patterns on the edges, and sleek, black shoes to finish it. What might have been most noticeable was the golden mask on his face.

"How glorious it is to see you again, Fenrir! It has been so long, hasn't it? Oh, the screams you made, the cries we heard. Why, it feels as if it was only yesterday that you working for us, in your own special way." A chuckle. There was a grandiousity to his voice and gestures, a flair for the dramatic. A familiarly sadistic glee. "Oh yes, Fenrir, I remember you so well; of course, that is not a surprise, as it is I we speak of. The real question is..."

He walked closer, his shining, silver eyes piercing into the robot's own behind the flawless golden mask. Now that Slythe was closer, Wolf could see what had been behind him.

It was the remains of Wolf's body. The chest, the stumps of the arms and legs, everything. The chest had been cut open, all of the machinery inside plain for Wolf to see. Parts from it had been taken out and put onto the tray. Everything was on or near the vertical operating table his body was strapped to.

Everything except the head.

"Do you remember me?"

[CJ]

"No, that's not it," Kusu muttered, glancing at Lynwood in hopes she, at least, didn't believe him. When would people ever stop mentioning Regala and the Phantom Hawks? Never, she supposed. She didn't feel like she had a connection with them anymore, especially Kara nearby.

Then there was Kalen. Kusu never thought much of his want to be captain. She assumed that she'd always have rein over the group, never listening to anyone but her first mate, Mr. Dark. But now she wondered if she was really suitable for the job. Maybe she should let Kalen be captain and go search for her lost friends.

Deep in her core, she realized she missed her old crew, even if she could never place a name to that sad woman's face.

Like the man who orchestrated Regala's destruction, this Wrath and the people around them would like nothing more than violence. She jumped forward when Jackal was struck. She was starting to regret falling asleep through his speech before. It seemed he was just as treacherous as the people around them. But perhaps he could be beneficial as an ally.

"Hey! He's no bug!" Kusu shouted, licking her mouth. "Don't do that again or I will show what it truly means to be the insect you speak of."

Her metal mask rippled, as if corresponding directly to her emotions. She stopped herself from doing anything though when she gulped and stood straight.

"Look, I don't want to hurt anyone so we'll follow you," she complied. "But if you have to make sure our big friend knows where we are. He fell away from us when we crashed. If you find Wolf, tell him where we went."

Kusu's face was incredibly stern. Of course, this could have been just the contrast between her and the masks around her.

[Hitotsumami]

As Fenrir looked behind him and saw all of Wolf's body parts taken apart, a deep, metallic chuckle resonated from the hole in the middle of his face.

"Wolf is truly a weakling!" he shouted. "It is a shame the World Government placed me within this pathetic body."

Looking back at the man with the golden mask, he said, "I am afraid I do not remember you, masked man! You see, I do not spend time remembering those weaker than I. Hahhaha."

Deep within Wolf's mind, Wolf was locked away. His legs were bound in chains. A thick metal band was around his neck, holding him in place. He could only hear the distant echo of Fenrir's voice, and he knew it wasn't good. He had to regain control, and quickly.

Regeneration Capabilities, booting up almost complete. 95%

The mechanical voice could only be heard in Wolf's mind. Wolf gasped and struggled with the chains. If he couldn't break free, then Wolf's body would heal itself, and then Fenrir would be able to use it as he pleased. This time, the consequences might be even worse than upon the Hyperion...