Alongside the metallic wooden walls of the decently lit room is an open rectangular doorway, though to and from where was yet to be discovered. Though approaching it from the other side is a pair of footsteps that progressively louden, or that is until they both abruptly stop nearly concurrently, and pause for several seconds. After the pause only one resumes, this one heavy with every step’s impact pronounced only in greater volume the closer it approaches to the door until finally the sound is trailed by a visual of the golden cyborg’s body entering through the doorway, its knees low to prime itself for an ambush, surveying through an eyeless gaze as its clawed hands remain sharp. Though the determination is made through the straightening of the posture and loosening of the hands as a signal for safety, one further relayed with the raising of one of those hands.
That signal is targeted for the resumption of the second set of footsteps to approach, though now distinguished from the first it lacks the same weight and pronunciation, instead far more mellow and reserved. Appropriately the body that enters through the doorway isn’t one of the same stature nor clad in golden armor, but rather dressed perhaps inappropriate for battle given the far too casual hoodie and exposed skin. That exposure translates to natural anxiety as she glances back and forward through those wide pink irises, her long samely colored hair waving behind her with the turns, but ultimately she follows to the cyborg’s side with a provided nod. The cyborg nods back though still facing forward without requiring forward sight of the gesture, for she chooses to put her focus ahead as does the other woman whose mouth opens in awe of the sight.
This sight is of another majorly open room that takes advantage of the long stretch of space each car has, though from their perspective there are about two stories to the visible room with the second one lacking any additional platforms but instead simply creating more open space. This area isn’t wasted however, not the surface area nor the multiple stories as inhabiting the whole room is a dense grid of what seems to be hovering beds given the metal framing underneath the soft white mattresses, a grid that horizontally covers the majority of the room with every cell built of two beds nearly adjacent only separated by about a foot or so, though between every cell is a separation of several feet as aisles. Furthermore on the vertical axis there are several of these grids stacked in the air elevated about the distance of a bunk bed, towering so high that the top bunks aren’t too far from the ceiling.
The result is a vast though dense array of beds like barracks, with an innumerable count fitting for an army, such as the one fought just previously. There is not an additional presence in the room other than the two intruders who slowly approach forward, for all those who’d slumber in the beds were now elsewhere, perhaps though slumbering too just on the cold floor after the skirmishes. While there are no other inhabitants of the room, the end door is hardly visible at all, at least from the other side.
Still, with a slight turn into one of the aisles given that the center line is taken by one of the grid columns, the two make their way down the room on their searching quest, walking side by side despite the aesthetic disparities between the two given one is hard to identify as human at all while another is one of the most informal appearance.
Glancing from side to side at the various empty beds which appear to be about the size of a Twin, perhaps slightly more but definitely nowhere near a Queen, the pink haired girl known as Kokei sighs softly before observing gently, “I can’t imagine living here for years, sleeping in this giant room crowded with other people. It’s like having roommates but…this is just too much. I mean what if one of them is a snorer, does just nobody sleep then?”
The response is spoken in a voice devoid of human accent but instead spoken with one reminiscent of a synth given its electric accent, the ally known as Dana giggles to that observation and shakes her head with the retort whose friendly demeanor pierces through the cold voice: “Always asking the truly pressing questions I see.”
Confronted with the sly exposure of her oddly placed focus on such mundane and insignificant observations of the lethal pirate army fortress while embarking on a mission of such magnitude it hadn’t been done even by armies of worlds, Kokei just giggles back and admits with a shrug: “I mean yeah but I’m not wrong, and hey everyone has to sleep. Even…these kinds of people probably.”
Nodding her head in acceptance to that excuse, Dana remains focused ahead while absolving, “I know, you’re fine.” Her tone does focus though to be more stern as she reports, “I can’t tell if we’re trailing Medit right, this base has such a convoluted format.”
Facing forward to the distant wall on the other side of the car, that far end visible but the door not being so, Kokei sighs given the more serious discussion following the light banter as her tone too shifts accordingly in the concern she expresses, “I hope we’ve been going the right way…,” which she follows with the mellow attempt of a jest: “Heh, in the movies whenever the characters split up, it never ends well. You’d think people would avoid doing that.” They continue down the aisle as one of the beds of the top layer they’ve passed emits a gentle yet thick dark cloud.
Passing the hovering beds every cell every few seconds with her hands by her side, her stance more casual now for there lacks any imminent threats to be wary of, Dana lowers her head in contemplation for a few moments while Kokei walks beside her, but after coming to a resolution she lifts her head, shakes it, and corrects in assurance: “Hey well we’re not alone though are we? I think we’re doing pretty well following that advice.” Despite her not having a face to emote with, that same angelic expression still perseveres in a situation so dire, visibly lifting her friend’s spirits same as her head as behind them on another topmost bed flashes a single point of blue light like an eye.
Smiling calmly to the reminder, Kokei nods her head as she straightens her posture more confidently in strides, right beside her friend as she accepts back lightly, “True, heh I don’t even want to think of what’d happen if I was just left alone here, I don’t think I’m even going to try imagining it. But it doesn’t matter because I got you, and as long as we’re together we’ll be fine-,” just as the back of her head is grabbed by an exposed hand and her body is driven straight through the floor with a boom.
In the very instant of the grab, Dana’s golden face turns ever so slowly to her ally as the chunks of metal boards are flung into the air amongst a mixture of debris dust but also the smoke of clouds which flash sporadically from yellow electric sparks appearing and vanishing all over the cloud.
The sequence took only a flash of a second, only enough for the turn of the head, but no matter how fast Dana could process the action, she hadn’t even the time to make a physical response before the ground collapsed in front of her and her ally plummeted straight through.
For in the following second, a breach had already been made into the floor right in front of the golden clawed feet, the toes centimeters from the edge which triggers Dana to stumble backwards in shock as the afterimage of the yellow lightning bolt trailing from up above into the hole fades. As all of the debris scatters whether it be on the floor or knocks into Dana’s golden body, that in itself causing no stagger given the armor’s material strength, Dana takes another step forward as her right hand transforms into her conal cannon, the grates opening as she immediately aims her hand down the hole and shouts, “KOKEI!” as she peers through the dissipating smoke.
Down her line of sight through the hole is a window into the lowest floor of the car, for there was still that third unexposed prior, this floor though having its own distinguished purpose as that of a bathroom given that at least the spot fallen is in the middle of a longer path with two rows of hovering stalls on each side, their doors open to reveal hovering white toilet bowls inside. Past the stalls though isn’t directly a wall, as those edges are further away.
In the center of the window though is the most important sight, that being the source of a faint cloud emitting off a woman kneeling down, dressed in long dark gray pants styled as jeans above heels but both beneath a rather relaxed top of a simple stone blue bra though only some of the strap from the back is visible as she has long orange hair covering most of it. At least what can be seen though is that slung around her waist is a belt carrying a tight array of small gems which have their own uniquely colored bodies all of which softly illuminate. She still has her right hand on the back of Kokei’s head though, for the ally’s body has been planted on the floor where a crater lies, the boards slightly cracked as the strike seems to have been rather heavy.
Down in the bathroom, Kokei groans in fatigue to the slam, wincing though given the shielding which absorbed the majority of the kinetic damage she at least lacks any serious injuries as she very well could’ve had several bones fractured by that single attack.
Above her looms the woman who struck her who has a rather athletic shape especially given her age seeming to be perhaps in her thirties if not forties, one hand holding her down as the other is clenched, a strange tattoo on that left arm’s shoulder resembling a trident though with every tip being a circle. Around her waist is that same belt of gems, though around her neck is a small golden necklace with two separate halves of a gem too, one with a pink glow. Beneath it, her stone blue bra has three golden jagged lines on each pad, and above it are fiery orange eyes glaring down on Kokei who’d found herself isolated so quickly after finding assurance in her alliance.
Far above them stands that ally who locks sight on the attacker, quickly aiming her hand cannon down ready to retaliate without question, though that aim is offset same as her entire body when it’s kicked forward by a silver boot that appears out of thin air behind her, resulting in an electric shriek as Kokei pulls her face off the floor to exclaim: “HEY!”
Flung forward by a considerable distance from the sheer strength of the kick, Dana’s golden body is only stopped upon collision with one of the elevated bunk beds, the collision causing it to displace itself and crash into the floor along with her as its own levitation strength was so seamlessly surpassed. As Dana’s body drops to the floor with the bed whose metal frame has been heavily dented, too drops the long black cape with a hexagonal fabric behind the boot which has a black back and sole but a silver front.
Groaning from the surprise attack made on her, as despite her armoring she appears to have suffered pain from the kick, Dana lifts her head up as her conal cannon reverts transformation back into her hand as a reset to reorient and recalibrate given the shifting environment.
Through Dana’s golden-tinted vision, on the other side of the hole that she was just standing by a second ago stands a man dressed in a majorly black suit though one mostly made of a hexagonal fabric composing the jumpsuit of sorts though not tightly compressed as well as the long cape that partially sits on his left arm as it nearly cloaks his body with an oversized collar. The inside of both the cape and collar emit a bright cobalt glow same as the one visible eye that seems to be wearing some sort of goggle given the lights are strips on a black lens, as most of the face is obscured whether it be by the black face mask covering the lower half with two blue rays from the chin up to the top or the spiky blonde hair covering the other eye. On the cape over the left arm is a silver cross insignia, that same silver permeating throughout the suit whether it be the boots, the belt which has divided segments and that same cross though glowing cobalt, or the gauntlets which also have distinctly glowing knuckles as well as a design of a piston in that the elbows of the gauntlets have two rings connected by glowing rods. Down the legs are two jagged streaks of cobalt and on the torso are small glowing dots both below and above the belt like the buttons of a coat, for overall while the suit doesn’t have a mechanical design, it’s very clearly advanced on the technical field.
That technology is even simply displayed as the man simply walks over the hole as the soles of his boots subtly brightens, utilizing an attuned levitation technology that lets him walk across and block the breach using himself as the wall.
Realizing now that it wasn’t only her being ambushed as her ally now has problems of her own, leaving her to fend for herself, Kokei grits her teeth as her pupils flare white and secrete sparks to the edges of her pink irises. Her hair begins to wave as first her fingers begin to spark pink electricity, but after accumulating her strength she manages to utter in an aggressive tone: “Get..off..ME!” timed with a sudden explosion of electricity coming off her whole body, one that thrusts her assailant backwards into the air with the grip on her head ridded.
That thrust slams the attacker through one of the stalls, her body unable to move given the pink sparks as she crashes into one of the bowls which triggers a pained groan, her orange hair flying chaotically.
Above the hole, that groan reaches the man in the armor who stops his march to the intruder so he can turn around and shout in a voice filtered such that it has slight distortions and deepenings that result in an echoey sound, yet his desperate tone prevails: “OH NO MARY, ARE YOU OKAY?!?! DO YOU NEED HELP???”
Groaning with her back against the toilet, the assailant now identified as Mary lifts her head and shouts back both in assurance although tinted in irritation: “I’M FINE BEAGLE, FOCUS ON YOUR OWN GUY!”
After receiving the assurance, the man now identified as Beagle sighs before muttering to himself in a strangely entranced tone, “Man, she’s so cool. I don’t know how she holds her own like that.”
His focus shifts however as that aforementioned opponent rises back to its feet, the minor grunts out of the way as it regains footing, the golden claws closed to fists. That relaxed demeanor thus drops as he takes another step forwards and clenches his own hands, those hands pulsating in their glow.
At least given a few seconds of recovery, Kokei scrambles back to her feet, stumbling backwards and placing her hand on the back of her head to gauge injuries, though her body has been substantially unscathed.
However the same can be said for her opponent who stands back up and aggressively grabs the stall’s edge, using it to pull herself out as she grunts in anger from the retaliation to which Kokei stumbles back again with visible worry on her face.
Above her, while there’s no expression made on the blank plate, the step back though one made into the bed which nearly causes her to stumble if not for her quick recovery functions as expression of anxiety too for Dana, as she takes a deep breath while facing down on her new obstacle while quietly muttering under her breath, “Where did everyone go…?”
Half of that answer lies far off in a different room in a different car of the train, though this car is further divided as it’s not nearly as open as the barracks. All three floors are accessible though, as it’s the placement of the walls causing divisions that in fact carve the room in a perfect cube. On the bottom floor is a square of desks accompanied with an inner split square of hovering office chairs, all of them facing the desks which have holographic screens emitting from them. On the middle floor is a bridge from the edge to the center skeletal platform which has one major long table at the far end, functioning less as a station to work at but instead one for overseeing as that one table functions as a unique desk. Above it though are scattered platforms with single desks, far smaller spaces reserved for individuals as though they’re meant to be secluded from the rest of the room. All these desks have screens, though perhaps the more interesting screens are the ones that cover all the six walls, as enveloping the room are grids of video streams displaying footage from various different rooms, some of them familiar such as the cafeteria and prison, the heaps of bodies still present as they weren’t dropped long ago.
One of those screens by the middle level’s bridge vanish however for a moment, carving out a rectangular gap into a dark hallway that allows for a single person to step inside for the room just moments ago was entirely vacant. This individual however isn’t of the official personnel, as his brown overcoat, black jumpsuit, bald head and majorly senile body identifies him as Ekitai.
Ekitai steps through the entrance, able to walk down the narrow bridge to the center of the cubic room, every step pronounced with an echo although an echo that can’t travel very far. He glances down and then up, able to get a quick observation of the entire security room at once to determine its vacancy, and after doing so he raises his head and begins sweeping around the walls upon being surrounded by the screens. In fact the fissure he just entered through closes up to fully surround him which he notices with a quick glance, but he returns his focus forward to reach the central platform where he steps through the split into the square desk and approaches the chair straight ahead.
Upon reaching it though, he just glances down with a frown, still unsure of his next actions. His demeanor appears alien in that he carries himself absolutely sternly, lacking any sort of visible excitement but instead displaying anxious curiosity. His attitude is oddly reserved, his motions calculated for a man who seemed to not be able to do such a thing.
With every angle of sight leading to the display of the displays, Ekitai grunts to himself and makes another sweeping gaze of the room, hoping to get visuals on the room mattering most to him, or rather a visual of the person.
Watching the countless screens around him, one of the screens noticed is camera footage of the long room substantially occupied by the three dimensional grid of beds as the composition of the barracks, though with the visible floor in the center as well as the two figures in the far distance, one of them in a long black cape with spiky blonde hair approaching another one substantially obscured yet what can be determined is the golden body, which is enough to at least develop a fairly realistic theory.
That theory however isn’t one taken with delight as Ekitai instead frowns at the sight, his teeth grinding against each other in the turmoil of abandoning the other two when they had so boldly made their declarations together to continue the fight. Though he was doing just that, it wasn’t in the way he knew the others had envisioned it, for he himself didn’t believe he’d have ended up switching plans the minute of deployment.
However after shutting his yellow eyes and squeezing out that conflict, he returns his focus back on that same video, though this time with more curiosity in his gaze as he peers more keenly forward, leaning over the table in front of him.
What specifically the man is gazing at is that man in the black cape with the blonde hair, as the more the man squints to get a clear image of the man whose body is distorted with film grain, a curious hum emits from him.
Mouth shut just trying to analyze the frame as his curiosity seems to be grounded in some sort of familiarity, Ekitai’s eyebrows scrunches in wonder, his full attention set on the screen.
Not only on the forward walls are there screens, but even on the ceiling and the walkable floor below, the floor beneath the gaps of the central platform, and while Ekitai just gazes forward, a silhouette steps beneath one of those gaps and places its hand on one of the sheathes bound to both hips.
While Ekitai just examines the footage meticulously, focused primarily on that, his eyes do suddenly expand with an abrupt inhale, and the very next moment he instinctively grabs onto the table to throw his body over it the very instant before a black katana blade slashes through the frame of the floor from beneath it, seamlessly slicing through the metal surface in a path that would’ve easily cut through Ekitai’s torso from right behind him had he not moved so swiftly.
Rolling off of the table onto the other side, Ekitai stumbles back but stops himself as his heels reach the very edge of the platform, one extra step enough to fall. He takes a step forward to ground himself and instinctively reaches into his coat’s inner pocket with clenched teeth and an agitated expression, but before he even can he raises his head up and freezes still, his hand inside his pocket but his arm not moving, for all that moves is his eyes in their expansion and his jaw in its drop.
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A reaction so visceral after having nearly been ambushed, logically keying him to remain on the move, only occurred because in front of him past the table standing on the bridge that he came from is the swordsman in the purple hakama, the four black sheathes on his hips all of them with a hilt inside as he wields no blades despite having used one just seconds ago. He instead just stares forward with his arms crossed over his chest, his one single eye staring straight into Ekitai’s soul as though he was face to face with a ghost.
Perhaps that reaction too is warranted as he just calmly asks in his deep voice, a voice naturally more controlled though still able to express his subtle astoundment: “Huh…I heard Gally but I couldn’t check for sure and figured it was nothing but…damn it really is you huh Ekitai. What a day.”
Caught before he could properly arm himself and now faced in this moment, Ekitai just gazes silently for a few moments in contemplation, ultimately leading a defeated sigh with the lowering of his head and retraction of his hand back out of the coat, though his hand empty as he chose not to grab his weapon.
Instead he just places his arm at his side and confesses in a voice dreary, perhaps for the first time one that truly exercises the mental toll of age in a way he only formerly did that night on Earth 3: “I can’t argue with you there Rezzo, it really has been….”
Perfectly in between the two men on one of the screens to the side is that footage of the barracks room with the blonde man, and without wasting a beat, Ekitai just assumes in that dreary voice, “I take it that’s Beagle in his armor?”
Responding casually despite having just tried to slash the man in half, Rezzo just nods his head and confirms, “I’m surprised you could tell.”
Ekitai responds back with the comment: “I’m surprised he put the armor back on, I thought he abandoned that for good.”
Without a second of thought Rezzo simply explains in a rather stern voice, “Time changes people, you’re a good example. Never thought there’d be a day where you’d be here for our necks alongside Meditat. It’s not even a question of impossibility, it’s just an absurd thought that never crossed my mind.”
His gaze remains straight with no wavering whereas on the other side Ekitai dodges eye contact as he lowers his head and then lifts it back but angled to the side, scratching the side uncomfortably from the awkwardness in the discussion he was immediately roped into. He tries to chuckle, though it’s a strange chuckle in that there’s no true joy emitted from it, none of the former bliss as his trademark, rather it’s purely from awkwardness, from the agony of the conversation being too hard to bare silent.
He does respond though even if not while facing whom he’s speaking to, answering in an attempted remark but one lacking any of the confidence: “I guess when you say it like that, damn it does sound crazy.”
First inhaling heavily, Rezzo releases a deep breath in a sigh before then unfolding his arms and mentioning, “If it was Mary here she probably would give you a lecture and hit you in the head at least five times, but I’m not Mary,” followed by him slowly shifting his hand over to his hip by one of his sheathed hilts which Ekitai immediately identifies on the other side of the table with a subtle stumble and petrified gaze.
In contrast, Rezzo’s expression remains entirely calm, perhaps even callous as a result, as he just raises his head up, a glint in his one green eye as his eyepatch maintains its purple glowing outline over the long scar over the face, and he simply calmly prompts: “So you just need to answer this one question: Are you my enemy?”
In a different section of the train further ahead is a room which also is a subdivision of its full car, but whereas the cubic security room accesses all stories though limiting simply the surface area of the car, this room is instead far more closed off as the room itself isn’t as wide but furthermore it’s delegated to only a single floor. The nature of the room gives reason for this though as it resembles an office given the large wooden table on the far side with a large chair, and along the walls are cabinets, racks, and seats for guests though the room isn’t meant to house much action. On the other side of the room from the desk and chair is a closed door, one that isolates sound from outside with the intention of maintaining peace, a logically desired feature for this room given the likelihood that sensitive work would be done.
Perhaps it is best that it’s vacant of any workers as that door then combusts, or rather it explodes forward with chunks being tossed in the room along with a man whose arms and legs flail helplessly before crashing into the floor. That man has what looks to be a black cape, though given the flailing free sleeves it’s clear it’s in fact a coat, and as he throws himself off the floor he grabs hold of his yellow hat to keep it on his head which perhaps is an odd priority given that he simultaneously dodges the glowing fist of a second man who dashes straight into the room, a man whose full body is covered in his azure suit, wearing a true black cape with an accompanying hood over the white mask, his knuckles reinforced with frosty crystals which he attempts to use to strike the face of his opponent which is exposed to show his terrified glare.
Whereas the pursuer is fully dressed in armor, golden pauldrons and metal boots, the pursued is dressed in a casual red sleeveless vest and sandals under gray shorts. His agility is commendable though as he manages to leap and dodge the punches, leaping back on the office desk while clutching to his hat as the pursuer simply throws punches, yet those punches are made with such speed amplified by the blue bursts propelling his arms, granting him near super speed.
While the runner can make agile bounds, the chaser proves capable in that he dashes through the air such that he reaches the desk in an instant, the punch already thrown which can only be dodged by the runner’s arms that he crosses over his chest, padding the impact but still propelling his body back into the wall– causing the office chair to fall over from collision with the legs– for the pursuer to dash straight into with another punch narrowly avoided as the runner drops to the floor, rolls, and gets back to his feet albeit knocking into the cabinets yet he begins running the other way only for his back to be grabbed by a translucent energy cable being held in the black and white glove of the pursuer who then yanks his arm back, throwing the runner backwards to the pursuer whom he meagerly tries fighting against with a thrown fist but one dodged midair in a blue burst and countered with a kick to the ribcage, firing the runner straight into the other cabinets which are crushed immediately on impact despite their metal composition.
Before the runner could recover, his exposed chest is reached by another cable straight in the center of the scar in the shape of a cross, and to his dismay he’s dragged back into the air and grabbed by the pursuer who projects cables beneath him which orients his face to the ceiling such that he can kick the runner’s abdomen at an angle to throw him directly up just well timed for him to project two cables, one from each hand, onto the corners of the ceiling and propel himself at bullet speed straight into the runner, colliding not only against the surface but through it as the two barrel through not only the wooden surface, but through the several filtration layers of dry walls, through thin vent tubes, strange rubber walls, and back out of the other wooden surface, though this one is on the other side as there’s no other layers but for the great blue sky as in seconds they’ve surfaced, the bright cyan supersun beaming past the few clouds higher than the train.
Now outdoors, the pursuer dashes backwards to separate himself from the runner, creating distance only so he can then project two cables to the runner’s shoulders using his hands, which he then does so he can flip midair and throw his arms down, throwing the runner in a loop that ends with him slamming straight into one of the bronze panels of the train’s roof, but he’s not even given an extra second before the pursuer again pulls his arms back which begins to throw the runner back into the air though the pull is mainly to push himself down so he can grab the shoulders of the runner and personally slam him into the roof, this second slam causing a louder thud and now an audible groan from the supposed captain of the pirate army.
Placing one arm over the captain’s collar, the pursuer finally pins him down as he glares through those parallelogram visors, and upon making eye contact with those visors the captain can only nervously chuckle in his predicament. He turns the other way, wincing before then remarking in a desperate quip, “Heh…you really just…powered through all of them huh…that entire legion…what I’ve been building for years. But it just took you, what, not even an hour? Were they really that weak?”
Keeping his physical hold down on the man, the pursuer projects an azure flame off his shoulder which reaches out past the train’s roof before then suspending and reshaping into a shape familiar to a van pod, and upon full manifestation it is just that, a van with the signature azure shell accompanied with black and white trims, though the van’s back is facing the two. In fact, only a second after being manifested into reality, the back of the van opens to reveal a small passenger space, or rather one reminiscent of a police van given the window to the front and the overall uncomfortable metal benches.
As the van just lingers by the train, the pursuer answers in a voice far from human after all the digital filtration, with a menacing tone to match the cold statement: “They were, but it’s your defeat that’ll dismantle your faction.”
Gradually the van pod begins to drive backwards, pulling towards the train specifically where the two leaders are. Its gentle movements exude only a soft hum, one substantially overpowered by the heavy winds of the high altitude breeze that comes from being on the top of the world, amongst the clouds.
Keeping his sights on the new captive, the pursuer maintains his tenacity as he declares, “You pirates all think you’re safe to do whatever you please because nobody dares trek into this territory, but do you trust your comrades to chase you into our territory when you’re brought in? I don’t need to detain every one of your followers, but you’ll be a solid start. Once you’re onboard, I’ll fetch the team and you’ll get your trip to the Core.”
Clenching his teeth from the sequence of statements all accumulating to a declaration of swift victory, the pirate leader groans as he attempts to push back, though it seems he lacks the strength to do so, or at least enough to overpower the pursuer who upon noticing the resistance simply pulls him up and slams him back into the train to further deplete his strength.
Groaning from the additional slam, all the leader can do is stare off into the sky and mutter exhaustedly, “Damn…I guess I stretched my luck a bit today huh. I knew you were here for that group, I guess I didn’t think this all the way through huh.”
Staring down at him as his body looms right over, the pursuer just maintains his cold glares as he simply agrees, “Guess not,” as the van pod’s back just begins to loom over the edge of the train’s surface.
That’s when all the sudden, the entire floor seems to shake for just a moment, not enough to throw off the pursuer’s hold but enough to raise his attention to the train same as his captive whose eyes widen in horror as the two face down to the front of the train identified by the gap in the halo, though that halo slowly begins to unravel as that front oddly starts moving relatively as it bends away from the end. As it starts to straighten, it also begins to slide forward in the air as slowly yet surely the cars behind it follow like a domino effect.
Watching this sudden movement, the pursuer returns his glare to the captive for questioning before being interrupted by a loud voice through the hole in the roof, one unfamiliar though it’s strangely accented words hint to it being not that of a human but rather a simple artificial intelligence which announces, “Protocols for immediate retreat to Post 10B has been enacted, travel will initiate imminently for the main vehicle.”
At the lowest level, Kokei stands with her back closer to a row of bathroom stalls in cautious retreat from Mary who had slowly begun to march from the stall she crawled out of, having nearly reached the center of the bathroom before stopping as the two of them simply have their heads lifted in curiosity from that same voice’s announcement: “Neighboring personnel are advised to make a prompt return to the vehicle if possible, however all active children vehicles have been alerted with the given destination if individual retreat is necessary.”
Right above that hole in the bathroom’s ceiling is the barracks with the grid of hovering beds, and standing amongst them is Dana clad in her golden armor in a defense stance with raised fists as her body faces Beagle draped in his black suit primed to pounce given his low stance ready to spring, yet they’re both standing frozen as their focus isn’t actually on each other but rather above at that voice explaining, “Automatic sealment procedures have begun, though there will be a window of overridability before air pressure is deemed inappropriate. Open apertures such as windows will be shut, and it is not advised that they are reopened until return to atmosphere.”
Above that level but also in an entirely different car far from those two is the cubic security room where Ekitai stands on the central bridge on the other side from Rezzo whose hand remains by his hip, ready to unsheathe a blade though both of their focuses have pivoted from the ruckus as the footage surrounding them on the walls provides streams of the many rooms, also revealing their change in state as the cafeteria stream exhibits the automatic closing of a handful of windows from the solidification of nanite clouds, though replacements do awaken in the form of holographic projections. At the same time, that voice warns over the invisible speakers, “At least one external breach has been identified in the hull, the interior doors connected to those rooms will have an additional warning lock.”
Past the highest level as this isn’t in a car but instead above one, both Meditat and Gally have been fixated on the hole in the roof that the voice has been coming through, that voice concluding it’s message: “Pressure shielding will be applied once the vehicle has surpassed the threshold, though once entered space only those of authority levels exceeding 5 will be permitted to open external breaches. This concludes the announcement.”
Right after that conclusion, another shake nearly throws the capturer off again, and while he maintains his grip he does notice that the van pod oddly seems to start retracting back, or rather the truth is that the floor he’s on is beginning to move forward.
Noticing the phenomenon, the capturer is first to demand, “What, are you trying to reach reinforcements?”
Though to his surprise, the captive’s face expresses not cunning antics but rather pure shock, his face fixed on the front of the train slowly beginning to slither as he simply murmurs, “What…are they doing…?”
Above him the capturer tilts his head in befuddlement to the pirate leader’s confusion of his own actions, but that pirate leader’s expression only then transitions to dread given his shriveled eyes and dropped jaw upon the horrific realization: “No way…they’re just giving up this territory all because of one person…what kind of stupid call is this…they’re all on the train anyways…who the heck is up there?”
Back in the bathroom, Mary just gazes up at the ceiling with a befuddled face, though after the conclusion of the announcement she lowers her focus back ahead, that perplexion beginning to shift into a discontent anger as her eyes sharpen, silently placing the blame of the announcement on the opponent before her.
Through bleak eyes, the pirate just reflects drearily, “They’re calling a full retreat all because they’re that scared…is that it? We have this whole fortress, this whole army, all this land, and they’re making a stupid move like this without even asking me? They just…decided it on their own? For me? Are they trying to protect me? Is that what I’ve become to them, just fragility who needs to be saved?”
In the barracks, Beagle lowers his head to the floor in assessment of what he just heard, as the news had come so suddenly especially given he couldn’t actually see the movement of the train from the room he’s in. Though a few moments later, he raises his head back up, his single visible goggle flaring bright in a reawakening to his focus.
Facing up, Gally stares straight into those parallelogram visors on the white mask as he continues to contemplate, “From the beginning, Rezzo just escorted me. I know he was trying to protect me…but when has he ever believed that little in me? After everything we’ve done together…but I guess then again I haven’t even put up a fight have I? Captain of the Sea Hats, Emperor of the Stars, King of the Pirates, and all I’ve done is been tossed around like some kind of little sweep mission. They’ve all forgotten who I am…maybe I’ve forgotten who I am…and now they’re just throwing everything away for me. Like they get the final say when my life ends.”
Within the confines of the security cube, Rezzo simply shakes his head to the news, and he plants his foot on the ground, sliding it back as his body lowers. His hand hovers still over one of the hilts, though his stance is already preparing for a strike as though he had already received his answer, his next move already determined even before his specific question could be answered, for it was already resolved.
Wind battles his black hair as his yellow hat just barely manages to cling onto his head, and beneath that hat the man’s eyes sharpen from a gust of determination as he is then the one to declare: “No,” as the scar on his chest suddenly flashes dark gray.
Before even interpreting the following event, Meditat is suddenly thrusted off of Gally’s body, flung backwards nearly off the entire train if not for swiftly projected cables from his hands down to the surface which reels him back standing, though shaken up from the abrupt strike as now the van pod has moved further back.
Far ahead the train begins to straighten, as the first few cars are now in a straight line and the ones behind are visibly moving along the chain as the head drives forward, rising up gradually too though the liftoff isn’t immediate.
But up close rises the man in the yellow hat, picking himself up off the ground and standing on his sandals, his black coat waving in the wind like a cape same as his hair, grabbing the top of his hat to firmly lock it on his head, its rim covering his eyes as his head starts low. Perhaps his clothing is casual, yet the scarlet vest waves majestically all the same as his hands lower to his side before clenching into fists.
In a near whisper only barely audible over the heavy winds he murmurs, “My name is Gally, the captain of the Sea Hats.”
Facing forward, Mary bends her knees and raises her hand up in front of her face in a pose that’d befit a battle stance armed with a knife, though her hand remains empty despite it being open to hold one. Her long orange hair drapes down her shoulders, her samely colored eyes fiery, ready.
Focused on the opponent, Beagle takes one step forward as the sole of his boot begins to emit a brighter light, planted on the floor but priming itself as he leans forward in a stance prepared to run, his fists closed and by his side.
His decision finalized, Rezzo’s green eye flares as he grabs onto one of the hilts of his katana, standing in the center of all the screens feeding him the information he needed to make his choice.
Able to maintain his footing after detaching the cables, Meditat plants one foot back in preparation, as for the first time he doesn’t rush after his target but rather displays caution and judgment. He slightly bends his knees, his cape and hood violently waving in the wind, the light from his eyes emitting their own clouds the same as the streaks across his body all extending from the same source that is the pencil emblem on his chest.
Acknowledging that despite having an ally right above her she was still on her own, Kokei takes a step back and raises both of her hands up, her black pupils flaring white again and secreting arcs, sparks appearing not only off her fingertips but along both of her whole arms.
Now able to judge the choreography of the next move, Dana plants her feet down, lifting both of her fists up as she maintains their form though from her back protrudes two golden tentacles that hang over her shoulder, their tips as barrels which are aimed at the human barrier in front of her.
His word made for him even if it wasn’t what was preferred, Ekitai releases a disappointed sigh in knowing nothing could be done in prevention of the inevitable, thus he reaches back into his overcoat, and this time he draws out his handgun, pulling the hammer back while raising it up to aim in front of his apprehensive gaze.
Standing on his train as it slowly lifts off, the bright blue sky majestic as the flow of his coat and hair, the puffy white clouds behind him both above and below, the man alas raises his head, letting his eyes glimmer as he fixes his glare and declares: “I am the king of the pirates; I say when my life ends!”
Next, the sequence of actions all occur simultaneously.
Mary leaps off the ground as her body secretes a cloud which sparks yellow electricity that accumulates in her hand to form a solid small lightning bolt the scale of a dagger which she swings straight at Kokei who projects swarms of her own pink lightning.
Beagle bounds forth in a blue trail at bullet speeds with one arm arched for a punch, that fist igniting a bright blue light as his spiky hair waves rapidly as Dana does the same, though with both of her hands open as claws, her tentacles firmly aiming forward as they both fire their first golden shot.
Rezzo dashes forth down the bridge as he pulls one of his katanas out for a clean cut aimed for Ekitai who pulls the trigger and fires his first shot that being a yellow one bright as his eyes, the radiating bolt aimed straight for the swordsman who in only a fraction of the second already reaches the table dividing them.
Ultimately, Gally throws himself forward with an enraged roar as his fist flashes gray, his cape dancing in the air same as Meditat’s whose arms ignite great azure flames that barrel forward, bright as the sky they’re rising up to.
Concurrently, the two teams clash.