Leon dashed back, crouched, whip wound tight around his arm. He was bleeding from his lip and above his eye, blood running into his red overcoat, and lost amid its hue. Dai Funka planted his foot and lunged, a palm thrust outward to flatten Leon's pretty face. Leon gauged his window, and sidestepped the harite, unfurling his whip, lashing it about Dai Funka's arm, and cinching it tight. In the same movement, he stepped behind the huge sumo wrestler's back, strained with the stretch mark pattern of the erupting volcano, and looped his coils about Dai Funka's chest and waist.

"Gotcha!" Leon chuckled.

Grabbing a handhold of the improvised hogtie, Leon sprang up with his powerful thighs and fell backward. The Great Eruption's feet lifted off the mat, to his shock and brief horror, and his head was driven into the ground by a devastating suplex. Stars exploded into his eyes as he tumbled over in a sprawl, topknot coming loose and dangling obstructive bangs in his eyes. The whip came away from him as Leon twisted and planted a hook kick in Dai Funka's face. Unrelenting, Leon lashed his whip out of the wrestling ring and hooked a standby folding chair, yanking it into his grasp. Holding the steel legs in his powerful grip, Leon smacked the chair upside Dai Funka's head. He saw the shock ripple through the sumo's face as his nose squished in.

Blood spurting from his nose and gums, Dai Funka tackled Leon with his shoulder.

"Is this really staged at this point? Jesus." Freyja whistled.

Cuppy took notes on the potential combat applications of chairs.

"Completely unrelenting." Richie gaped.

He saw a flash of the Lion Tamer rammed through from behind with a spear of molded stygian darkness, heard his vow to stuff his guys back in should they fall out. To put the body through this much punishment for the entertainment of others…

Richie smiled. "You're actually a nice guy, aren't you, Valentine?"

The battle seemed to drag on forever, well beyond the stated time slot.

At a critical point, Leon found himself on his back, dazed, and his eyes opened to see the massive man standing atop the ropes, bulk framed in shadow by the spotlight at his back.

When in Rome…

Dai Funka jumped high over Leon, and descended ass-first like a gift-wrapped pyroclastic bomb. Leon felt the shadow of that massive posterior widening over him.

"Oh shit." Leon grit his teeth and kicked an iron leg straight up to intercept the meteor.

Dai Funka landed with the full brunt of his ample weight focused into his ass, which was driven into Leon's clog. The pointed toes of the wooden shoe went up to the heel into the rikishi's rectum. Meanwhile, the fall of five hundred plus pounds, primarily on the toes, made Leon's leg buckle.

Simultaneously, both titans massively regretted their decisions.

"MY ASS!"

"MY LEG!"

"My eyes." Freyja blinked, sticking her tongue out.

Richie and Cuppy clutched their asses, hissing. A hail of horrified gasps and groans similarly echoed across the stadium, and parents covered their children's eyes.

Leon and Dai Funka spent some time rolling around, writhing in agony before managing to recollect themselves.

"You put your foot in my ass!" Dai Funka boomed, clutching his violated backside.

"You damn near broke my knee!" Leon retorted.

"You put. Your foot. IN MY ASS!!!" Dai Funka countered.

"Gonna have to burn that shoe." Leon frowned. "On the plus side, won't have to get your prostate checked again for a while."

A few moments passed in awkward silence.

"...uh, gentlemen?" the announcer dipped back down from his ring-rope.

"What the hell do you want?" they grumbled in unison.

"You're, you know, in the middle of a match?" he sweat.

"Oh. Right." Leon scratched the back of his head.

"We apologize." Leon and Dai Funka both said, addressing the crowd and bowing.

Then they continued throwing hands.

…

It was well into the night when the duel finally came to a close, and most of the audience had tapped out first and gone to bed, leaving the odd few dozen scattered here and there.

Leon and Dai Funka were both covered in cuts and bruises, with swollen faces.

"give… it… up…" Leon pant, sweat pouring like a waterfall from his face. His majestic golden locks were matted and strawberry-blond with blood.

"like… hell…" Dai Funka clutched his side as though suffering an appendicitis. "I… have way more… calories… left to burn…" he took a moment to pant. "your tank… must be… running low…"

They both stared each other down, and lunged. Leon wrapped his whip around his fist, and Dai Funka thrust out his open palm. Leon's thorny punch and Dai Funka's harite both struck at the same time, landing full on in the face. The clashing titans swayed, swayed - and toppled.

The announcer lowered himself down into the arena and nudged either fighter with his foot. "We have, uh, a double knockout. This match is over, remaining ladies and gentlemen! It's a draw!"

"Wait, do it again, I blinked." Cuppy said.

-

The trio departed the stands, tired and fulfilled.

"Ok, I admit it. I had fun." Freyja said, tossing the last piece of popcorn in her mouth, and sucking the butter from her fingers.

Richie had a child-like smile on his face, verging on blush. "Hell of a duel. My spirit is lifted, and my life is complete. Have me buried at sea, ok guys, thanks."

Freyja rolled her eyes, smirking. "Drama queen."

Cuppy hesitated at the stairs.

"Cup?" Freyja looked back.

"Let's go meet them." Cuppy smiled.

"What?" Richie looked back.

"You know the rose guy, right? He's your friend." Cuppy said.

"In this timeline he's just the Lion Tamer." Richie scratched his head. "And you can't just walk up to celebrities and go 'put 'er there!' They have handlers for that."

"Looks unguarded to me." Cuppy pointed down.

Leon and Dai Funka were both still out cold. The announcer must have either gone home or passed out himself. It would be morning in a few hours already.

"Come on." Cuppy started down toward the arena.

"Cuppy, no!" Richie went after him.

"You don't need backstage passes to greet a friend." Cuppy said stubbornly, dropping down into the ring.

"Sure. Why not." Freyja shrugged. "Keep the 'I do what I want' train rolling, I guess, balls to the wall."

"Hiya!" Cuppy stood before the unconscious Leon, waving.

Richie slipped in between the ropes. "Cup, give it a rest!"

Sparta's massive paws slammed down onto the mat from above, bouncing Cuppy a few inches off his feet. The mighty lion stood between Cuppy and Leon, and unleashed a massive roar in Cuppy's face.

Cuppy tilted his head as Richie cringed and Freyja yawned.

"cup, pull out, pull out, you fucking idiot!" Richie said through his teeth.

"Kitty!" Cuppy said happily.

He hugged Sparta around the neck and buried his face in the lion's proud mane. "So warm!"

Sparta snarled and sniffed the stringy moppet, trying to determine the manner and extent of its daft cognition. Ultimately, it picked him up by the hood and thrashed about violently, shaking Cuppy about.

"Whee!" Cuppy cheered as Richie tore at his hair.

Cuppy had learned nothing from the 'weird dog' incident. The 'dog' in question had been a bear cub. Richie, naturally, bore the brunt of the mama bear's emphatic disapproval. Having Freyja on hand was always handy for such occasions.

"Can it, Sparta." Leon grumbled, sitting up and clutching his head. "Hell of a hangover, I could use some coffee and a hot shower."

Dai Funka twitched a little on the ground, then lifted his head. "Seconded."

Leon looked up, surveyed the situation, and grit his teeth. "Sparta! Down, boy! Drop it! You don't know where that's been."

Sparta plopped down on his muscular quads and nonchalantly let his jaws fall open, spilling Cuppy on his noggin.

"We talked about this." Leon grumbled, scratching the back of his head. He walked over to Dai Funka and nudged him with his foot. "Looks like I regained consciousness first, so that makes me the winner."

"Nonsense!" Dai Funka protested.

As if forgetting they were there, Leon looked about the trio of teens in his wrestling ring. "Autograph pigeons, surely. How brazen, take a number!" Leon waved them on.

"You guys can take a beating." Richie said, flummoxed.

"Of course. The show must, as always, go on. I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't take some licks in the name of performance art. Now scram!" Leon said.

"Aww, don't be like that, Mr Valentine!" Freyja adopted a breathy voice. "We just wanted to party with the stars! Can't you find it in your heart to have some food and drink with us?" she fluttered her eyelashes.

Leon's eyes visibly fell to Freyja's generous chest, bouncing back and forth between them and her pretty face.

"Well, I can't disappoint my fans." Leon smiled.

…

The five of them went backstage into Leon's personal dressing room and lounge, a cozy room with cream-colored walls offset by burnt ochre wood trim, and covered in classical portraits chronicling circus history. More than a few portraits were of Leon himself at various ages throughout his life. One saw him tending the elephants, giggling as a calf draped its trunk around him curiously.

Leon sank into his red leather sofa and popped a champagne cork, pouring himself a tall glass with a fancy stem.

"Enjoy the show?" he asked.

"Did we!" Cuppy nodded.

"Did they?" Dai Funka turned to Leon.

"Turn of phrase. They liked it." Leon explained, smirking.

A tiny proud smile came over Dai Funka's face.

"I saw all your matches growing up." Richie said to Dai Funka, beaming. "What brought you to Station Bay?"

"This fool." Dai Funka pointed to Leon.

Cuppy sat on a Persian rug on the floor, playing patty cake with Sparta. Freyja surveyed the portraits. Some of them dated beyond Leon's time, yet the men in frame looked nigh-identical.

"How old are you?" Freyja asked.

"Twenty. You'd be forgiven for mistaking me for my father and grandfather in their prime. Kinga and Zenon Valentine, past patriarchs of the Valentine Family. This here is a marker for the next in the line of succession." Leon held up his coiled thorn whip. "It's very precious to me, as is Sparta over there."

"That's sweet." Freyja smiled.

Leon poured them all glasses.

"My grape juice is burping." Cuppy examined his glass curiously.

Richie took a sip and grimaced. "I'll be glad when that's finished." he muttered to himself.

Dai Funka heard a timer go off, and stomped over to a huge stew pot left on the stove. He lifted the lid, and a delicious, savory smell wafted through the air. "Soup's on." he said.

He poured everyone a generous bowl. It was a steaming concoction of golden-clear broth, thick ropey udon noodles, bok choy, chicken, meatballs, star-patterned mushrooms, and who knew what else.

"What do you call this?" Cuppy blew on his spoon.

"Chankonabe." Richie answered before Dai Funka could.

"That's right. Sumo stew, very hearty." Dai Funka nodded. "Cures what ails you."

"Unless what ails you is diabetes." Leon quipped.

Dai Funka revoked Leon's bowl.

"Hey!" Leon whined.

"No soup for you." Dai Funka grunted.

Richie burnt his mouth taking a spoonful.

"Careful, it's nearly boiling." Dai Funka said.

"Warn me first next time!" Richie balked.

Leon raised an eyebrow as he and Dai Funka both watched Freyja wolf down her chow. Her face was buried in the bowl, making munching and slurping sounds. They watched in amazement as the broth level steadily and rapidly lowered. Freyja tilted her head back and poured the remaining contents of the bowl down her gullet, then clunked the empty bowl down on the table.

"Seconds please!" she asked sweetly.

"Well, glad someone appreciates my cooking." the sumo wrestler chuckled.

"So what really brought you back here? You didn't come just for autographs, I can see that much." Leon said.

"Uh, well, it's kind of hard to explain." Richie said.

"Try me." Leon said.

Richie, after a pause, withdrew the ornate rose-patterned knife Leon had gifted him in Tide Town.

Leon's eyes widened. "What…"

Hastily, he unlocked his vanity mirror drawer and withdrew the same knife. "May I?" he asked.

Richie nodded and forfeited the dagger.

Leon compared them side by side on his desk. "My dagger was custom-made, and has a high silver content, it's the only of its kind. The details of its composition were never made public knowledge, how do you have an exact replica?"

"Well, that's the thing. It's not a replica. It's the same knife, to the letter." Richie scratched his head. "It was a parting gift."

"Who gave it to you?" Leon asked.

"You did." Richie said.

Leon stared a moment, bewildered. He thought this boy felt familiar, but they had never met before, so how could that be? Was that really why he had been so willing to humor their brazen request?

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"Far out, huh?" Freyja said in between gulping down her current bowl of stew. A pile of empty bowls was stacking up beside her.

"It gets weirder." Richie sighed. "Show 'em, Cup."

"Roger." Cuppy rummaged through his backpack and withdrew his slingshot. The room was silent, staring, waiting to see the point.

"Not your toys, dingbat, your string thing." Richie sighed.

"Oh." Cuppy nodded.

He sprouted fine surgical threads from his fingertips and flourished them. They painlessly embedded themselves in Leon's and Dai Funka's bodies, to their startled, deer-in-the-headlights astonishment.

"What the-" Leon said, unnerved.

"Trust him." Richie said.

The threads hooked themselves through the frayed patches of skin, torn muscle fibers, and cracked bones, looping around the edges of all wounds internal and external, and then drew tight.

"With all the protein in that stew, I have plenty of ligament fuel to repair your bodies. There, should be good as new." Cuppy chirped.

"I'll be damned." Dai Funka looked at his palm, flexing his fingers and testing his grip strength. "The pain and fatigue are gone."

"Hell of a magic trick." Leon said. "How did you do that?"

Cuppy nodded to his backpack, and Cuppet popped out.

"What the bloody fuck is that?!?" Leon yelped, terrified, his champagne glass shattering on the floor.

Cuppet plopped onto the ground and danced a little jig.

"No strings on him." Cuppy said. "This is my twin brother."

"The pair of them are from some other world, we think." Richie said. "Like the version of you I met. So is whoever created these guys." Richie lifted his arms, and his Azure dragon tattoos reluctantly lifted from his arms, whiskers trailing.

"Seiryu…" Dai Funka was awestruck, and fell on his knees, bowing.

"What exactly are you guys?" Leon asked.

"In the grand scheme of things, we're not sure. Marked, in a way. You might be too, I'm not sure yet." Freyja said.

"Marked? Marked by who? Why?" Leon said.

"Wish we could answer that." Richie said. "It's a really long story."

Leon examined his mended body, and looked at the clock - 6:00 AM. "We've got time."

After a pause, the dragons opened their mouths, and spoke aloud for the first time in Richie's memory.

…

"That's insane." Leon stood at his mirror, holding his chin in contemplative thought.

"To be clear," Dai Funka said, "this Institute business is classified on penalty of death… and you just told us everything?" the rikishi stared at Cuppy.

"Uh huh." Cuppy nodded cheerfully.

"Well we're definitely marked now, you jerk." Dai Funka grumbled.

"Not necessarily." Holly said, looking through Leon's photo album. She cooed at his baby pictures. "I doubt the Director has eyes in your dressing room. Nevertheless, you should keep this knowledge to yourselves."

Richie looked to and from Holly rapidly. "Ok, something's off about this headcount."

"Adds up to me." Chikita said, chugging a champagne bottle.

"How did they get here?" Freyja blinked.

"How else?" Holly said.

"Guess your first Backyards session was a success, then." Richie mused.

Dai Funka looked through the twin doors of the open oak cabinet, and saw that the interior just kept going forever through miles of humid jungle. He felt the warm moisture emanating out of it, heard the calls of tropical birds and the roaring of river rapids, and smelled the perfume of blooming rainforest flowers. Then the image faded away like a dying dream, or a clearing mirage.

"I didn't just see that." Dai Funka rubbed his eyes out. "We must both still be unconscious."

"Makes perfect sense to me." Leon shrugged. His eyes panned across Freyja, Holly, and Chikita. He swept back his golden mane and flashed a perfect smile. "Ladies, your providential mystique is matched only by your beauty. Surely you are angels sent down from Heaven, for that can be the only explanation."

He delicately took Freyja's hand, kneeling, and planted a gentle kiss on it.

"Heaven? Well, actually I - yeah, sure, let's go with that." Freyja said, blushing a bit.

"Make yourselves amenable to the famed Valentine Hospitality. My home is your home, and I am at your service." he gave each of them a rose in turn.

Holly pushed her glasses up, examining the flower in detail. "Charming."

"Forgive me for being so forward, I just feel so overwhelmed by the divinity of your visit. A trio of goddesses traveling across time and space, oh what good fortune that our paths should cross. It can only be fate. Tell me, madam, do you believe in soul mates?" Leon asked Holly as he passed around a tray of hors d'oeuvres.

"Well, I'm a scientist, so" Holly fumbled, flustered. Leon took a cherry into his mouth, and a few moments later, revealed the stem tied into a heart-shaped knot.

"Yes." Holly nodded, blushing.

Chikita tilted her head as she brought her pipe to her lips. Leon knelt before her and flashed an engraved lighter. He bowed like a regal servant as he gave Chikita a light, then looked up at her and ran his fingers through her blue hair. "These strands, so exotic, they must be kissed by the snow's blessing."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Chikita grinned.

"Shall winter and spring meet? Might I warm you?" Leon said, leaning back. His undershirt came untucked, exposing a rock-hard midriff of sculpted muscle.

"You might." Chikita squeaked.

Richie and Dai Funka stared with bemused, unimpressed expressions.

"Goddammit, Leon." they said in unison, then curiously eyed each other over having shared the same sentiment out loud at the same time.

"Hey! What about our snacks?" Cuppy complained, the tray emptied.

"Yours are on the counter." Leon waved them away, irritably.

Richie helped himself to a shrimp cocktail.

"That's a thirty dollar gratuity fee, by the way." Leon added.

"You're charging us?!" Richie growled.

"Girls, perhaps I can interest you in free front row tickets to tomorrow's show? My rotund friend there will be joining my family and I tomorrow evening for the Valentine Family Circus extravaganza! I'm sure that with your eyes on me, it will be my finest performance yet."

"Sure." Freyja said.

"Pick a card, any card." Leon fanned out a deck of playing cards from his sleeve, then at once retracted them into the cuff. Then he withdrew three tickets from his sleeve.

"Thanks." Freyja said, taking the tickets. She gave the other two to Richie and Cuppy.

Leon looked crushed, as did Holly and Chikita.

"You guys have work to do." Freyja hurriedly shoved Holly and Chikita back into the cabinet, over their protests.

-

"How long are you going to mope in the corner?" Holly asked Chikita as the former put coffee on to brew.

"Shut up! Leave me alone!" Chikita snapped, eyes moist. "It's not fair! Dammit! Dammit!"

-

"So you're a dragon hybrid, the boy is some kind of marionette warlock, Freyja my dear is a hellspawn shapeshifter, the cute girl with the glasses is an ancient alien turned men in black double agent, and the snow angel is an assassin from feudal Japan, do I have that all summed up about right?" Leon asked.

"Pretty much." Richie nodded.

"And these fissures, these, wandering corridors, you called them? They're on again off again warp zones into this big parapsychological free for all called the Backyards, which somehow acts as a no man's land between the shores of distant worlds, alternate timelines, and universes with altered fundamental laws of nature for all we know, like negative mass or some such?"

"You're two for two." Freyja said.

"Ding ding." Cuppy chuckled.

"And the fog?" Dai Funka asked.

"Holly thinks it's an unrefined form of the Backyards trying to breach the surface of our world. Different planes of reality violently trying to overtake each other, like clashing continental plates trying to force one to subduct. The fog particles are something that can't decide between being wholesale matter, or energy. They're singularities, mini big bangs."

"That much raw information condensed into a pocket of fog, it's no wonder man and machine alike are overloaded." Leon held his chin.

He was getting excited. Now here was a stage worthy of him! Interdimensional pilgrimage, a peppy little romp through space and time! Oh, how romantic!

"We seem to be able to stand it a bit better than others, but it's still really disorienting. Like the fog gets inside your head and clogs it. The air feels thick like quicksand in your soul." Freyja grimaced.

"But these corridors, the true path into the Backyards, they have no such eroding effect?" Dai Funka checked.

"No. But that doesn't make them safe. It's a whole thing, really. In the Backyards, whatever you dream up, good or bad, is in the flesh, and your emotions become reality. If you go in nervous, the yard reshapes itself to reflect your insecurities or fears. It can confront you with truths you don't want to know or remember. It can consume you." Richie said. "And I'm not just talking about that dumb alligator." he shuddered, still feeling the phantom blows from the cultist's trio of assassins.

"Why are you telling us all of this?" Leon asked.

"Instinct. We were friends, more or less, I think, and even if you aren't the same Leon who helped me in Tide Town, you're still Leon. I don't think it's a coincidence that everything lined up like it did for me to meet you like this. You're an entertainer, a people pleaser through and through, so I trust you with the burden I'm about to share."

"Go on?" Leon leaned forward.

"The Backyards aren't the only travel network between worlds. An endless Void embodying the negative emotions of all souls ever spans out beneath us, expanding forever. Think of it as the Jungian shadow of God's psyche. Everything the light touches has a shadow, and there are cold, hungry, squirming things that swim in that Void. You called them shades." Richie told Leon. "At the time, your alternate self speculated that they were the vengeful wills of the unborn, of things that failed to exist. Canceled paths evolution could have taken, wiped from the cosmic drawing board to start over. But the stains survived."

"And they're pissed off." Freyja said.

"I've seen what they can do. If given the chance, the shades will rip the soul right from your flesh and bones. They only had freedom to incarnate physical bodies in Tide Town because of its closeness to the Void, but that doesn't mean they won't keep trying to claw their way up, higher and higher. Every dream someone has is a lifeline in the endless murk they swim through, a promising shaft of light to breach through. They feed on you in dreams and hallucinations, siphoning your life, your memories, your emotions, even your will to go on." Richie shuddered, feeling cold just describing it.

"They're sick of not being real. They'll kill to be born." Cuppy nodded grimly.

"And you think they might claw their way into Station Bay?" Leon asked.

"I think they already have." Richie said.

"The sewers have become a reservoir of shade juice. Black Rain." Freyja said. "Like the ether fog, it plays hell on my senses in particular. I feel it chill me every time I pass over sewer junctions where the Black Rain flows in high concentration. The eeriness and inherent darkness of sewer systems further thins the line between this world and the boundless Void. The more Black Rain seeps through, the more shades will proliferate. And the more they proliferate,"

"The more the Void will encroach onto the city. Swallowing it. And beyond." Richie said.

"And the ferals who stumble in through the fog and corridors are just glorified livestock, to generate more fear and then be consumed by shades when they've fulfilled their roles?" Dai Funka asked.

"We think so. They seek the Black Rain to draw on its power, to evolve. But the only ones who'll get to evolve in the end are the shades themselves." Freyja said.

"Then this Mason chap is playing right into their hands, attacking the visible enemy while the subtle one undermines the very foundations of reality. That's a lot to just drop on a guy, you know that?" Leon balked.

"Do I ever." Richie revisited the time when their roles had been reversed. "Trust me, the other you would have appreciated the forewarning."

"And if I and some of my associates ended up falling through the realms into this Tide Town, then the implication is that this timeline could go the same direction. That this world could be destroyed." Leon said, then popped another champagne cork.

"I wasn't there, though?" Dai Funka asked.

"No. It's possible you weren't acquainted in that timeline." Richie said.

"Or that you drifted into different worlds." Cuppy added.

"Though, it's also possible you just died." Richie said solemnly.

Dai Funka looked down, a masterwork of existential terror written across his pudgy face.

"Kokumo is a member of Interpol." Leon said suddenly.

"What?" Richie gaped.

"Since we're just dropping classified truth bombs anyway." Leon chuckled dryly. "She contacted me sometime back to warn me that I was being stalked by some real bad motherfuckers. One of them said hi a few nights ago."

-

"Who was that creep?" Leon demanded of Kokumo over the phone.

"Based on your description, I have a pretty good guess. His name is Keke, he's a Bolivian national suspected in connection with a bloody Tinku festival incident a few years ago. He's a terrorist."

"A terrorist? What does a terrorist want with me? I'm an entertainer!" Leon argued.

"Keke is part of an international crime syndicate with its fingers deeply entrenched in the criminal underworld, and hiding behind various fronts across the globe. One of these suspected companies is subject to investigation by our intelligence agency." Kokumo said.

"What company?" Leon asked.

"I could tell you, but then I'd literally have to kill you. They're called -"

"Never mind, then!" Leon snapped.

"Anyway, this syndicate does a little bit of everything. Drug trade, heavy arms dealing, assassinations, provoking proxy wars and enabling other terrorist operations, the works. A handful of well-known martial artists and prize fighters have disappeared under mysterious circumstances, with assassins who look suspiciously like them being connected to several crime scenes after the fact. It seems the organization is recruiting fighters as hired muscle, by bribe, coercion, or force." Kokumo said.

"And I'm on their wishlist?" Leon asked.

"You might be." Kokumo had said. "If Keke tried to bring you in though, I'd say that clears everything up."

"Man, it sucks to be so popular." Leon had whined.

-

"You guys said that your world collapsed into the Void because the shades had some kind of arrangement with a certain psychopath." Richie thought hard. "Hmm. Do the names Moses and Shinsei mean anything to you?"

Leon blinked.

"Those were both names of competitors in a fighting tournament I attended some time ago."

"A tournament?" Richie asked.

"I'm surprised you hadn't heard of it. It was called Dragon's Dominion, and it took place on a remote island in international waters. I lost to Moses, while Shinsei went on to win the tournament. He just dropped off the earth sometime after that. Why?" Leon said.

"In Tide Town, you mentioned that you had arrived with Moses, but that he peeled off sometime after that. You also told me that if I wanted to find out more about my dragons, that I should find this Shinsei guy." Richie said.

"Good luck. Nobody's been able to find him. Didn't even claim his prize money." Leon shrugged, stumped.

Freyja furrowed her brow. "Several of you attended the same tournament, and wound up in the same world after your home was consumed by shades. If that Keke guy was an attack dog for the syndicate Kokumo warned you about, does that mean other contestants could have targets on their backs too? Moses? Shinsei?" Freyja asked.

"I've seen a lot of big tough guys in my life. No one came close to Shinsei. If I were some crimelord and I wanted to impose a face-heel turn on a fighter to take care of my enemies, Shinsei would be the cream of the crop." Leon whistled.

"He was that dangerous?" Cuppy asked, curious, as though listening to a fairy tale.

"Let me put it this way. Neither Dai Funka or I would stand a chance in a 1v1 with the guy." Leon nodded emphatically.

"Who organized that tournament?" Freyja asked.

"The island was under the ownership of the Cultivator Corporation." Dai Funka said.

"And did anything happen to any of the other fighters there?" Freyja said.

"So that's why I lost contact with…" Leon bit his nail.

"I think we found the front of their operations. Kokumo must have sniffed dirt on Cultivator." Freyja smacked her fist into her open palm.

"Corporation…" Richie's eyes widened.

-

Ella stepped forward. "Corporation assassins… your mad cult has enough sway to use Cultivator Corp assets just to track down a poor single mother and her son?" she growled.

"Our reach extends far beyond the limits you can go to protect the boy. Though, your love and devotion to your child is to be commended, it's impressive that you forced our community to go to such lengths to liberate the dragon from this earth."

Ella smirked. "Good, then I can take you out, plus three other evil pieces of shit in one shot."

-

"Was there a swordsman at that tournament?" Richie asked.

"Yes, there was." Leon nodded grimly.

Richie sat at Leon's computer.

"Fayette Archambault, champion Olympic fencer, acquitted of serial murder in Paris, France." Freyja read out loud over Richie's shoulder.

"It's him." Richie recognized that aquiline face and silver mane. He grit his teeth, fists balled up and shaking.

"He was one of those punks with the cultist who murdered my mother!" Richie growled.

Dai Funka turned pale.

Richie read more about the tournament, and its roster.

"Rolando Krokodil," he said, looking over the picture. He recognized the Columbian man, even under the heavy, beartrap-like prosthetic jaw he now wore. "and Hiroyuki." he saw the ninja in blue. "That settles it. This Cultivator Corporation is the face of the syndicate, and the ones kidnapping fighters. The ones who tried to kidnap you." Richie pointed to Leon.

"And they helped the man who would have seen you dead." Leon's face fell. "You have my condolences."

"My hitlist can wait." Richie glared at the three digital portraits. "Who runs the Cultivator Corporation?"

"No one's seen him face to face. He goes by the title of Lord Byrus." Leon said.

"There's your co-conspirator." Richie deduced. "The man whose involvement helped plunge your world into the Void."

"The future, potentially." Leon mused.

"So," Freyja said, "Byrus knows your cult leader, and Crocus knows Byrus."

"So Crocus knows my kidnapper. The man who ruined my life." Richie chipped a tooth from grinding them so hard.

"Big deal." Cuppy shrugged. "We were already going to beat them all up anyway." he smiled cheerfully.

Richie hadn't shared his lingering memory of Moses's words to Cuppy yet, about how the right combination of Backyards formed a route to the ailing heart of God, and that whoever reached it first would determine the survival or annihilation of the cosmos. Logically, if people like Luchesi owned their own yards, they would have to be removed from power, both to prevent abuse, and to safeguard the roads to the heart of creation. Prior, he, Holly, and the others had drawn out a rough map of different worlds, whose borders were likened to fences, with gates, overlapping corners, and alley spaces between them. Some trajectory of gates or another formed a route between yards and their 'houses', but figuring out which led where would be like finding a needle in a used needle stack. Worlds would have to be bridged, houses trespassed, angry hillbilly tenants with shotguns pacified. And in all of this, Cuppy innately had the simpleminded wisdom to know that all hostile rivals would have to be taken down.

"You're right, Cup." Richie said. "Our objective is clear. We need to kick the asses of all the bad guys. That means cleansing the Black Rain from the sewer, preventing anything or anyone else from absorbing it, and destroying the Institute."

"Hold the phone," Leon said, "you can't just destroy a government task force."

"Watch me." Richie smirked.

"Cleansing the Black Rain is going to be a problem. Shades secrete it, and it secretes shades. As far as we can tell, the voidlings worm their way between the cracks of reality through dark and foreboding places, and the sewer supplies the requisite atmosphere. Let's not forget shades are strengthened by fear and negativity, and with things so tense in the city in light of the attacks, they're probably pumped up to high hell. It took everything you and Cuppy had just to draw that shit out of the water supply." Freyja said.

"Then we have to cut their nest off from food." Richie said.

"We can try to prevent ferals from fattening up their souls for the harvest, but how do you enforce citywide peace of mind?" Freyja asked.

"Let's sic Holly on that. Maybe she can spike the water supply or something." Richie said.

His dragon's perked up, remembering the anti-negativity drugs Tide Town had dispensed to its soldiers. A pity Richie had elected not to take any, perhaps Cuppy could have extracted the ingredients from Richie's blood or something. If he could get back to Tide Town…

"And the jerks in suits?" Cuppy asked.

"Simple. Guerilla warfare. We master our yards, link them together, and wait for the right corridors to line up with the building. We plan in advance, and hit them hard and fast. Bring the building down, along with their controls for the tracer system." Richie said.

"We could use our combined Backyard as a kind of zoo to round up the ferals, maybe even send them back home." Cuppy said.

"So, TLDR, we drug the whole city to not feel negativity for a while to staunch the flow of Black Rain, we hide the shades' livestock away in the Backyards under lock and key, and then we use a wandering corridor to ambush the Institute and bring them down. Does that sum it all up?" Freyja counted off on her fingers.

"Yep." Richie nodded.

"Then, with those suits and their damn tracers out of our way for good, we spelunk down into the sewer, exterminate the remaining shades, and punch Crocus in the face?" Freyja asked.

"You're two for two." Richie nodded.

"You realize you just casually outlined a conspiracy to commit domestic terrorism of a massive magnitude?" Leon asked.

"Yep." Richie nodded.

"Ok, just checking." Leon scratched his head. "What a day."

"It's ok, we know you won't tell. After all, just knowing about the Institute carries the death penalty." Freyja flashed a pretty smile at Leon.

He sweat. "Can't argue with that. Our lips are sealed."

Dai Funka nodded emphatically.

"So what should we do?" Leon asked.

"The show must go on, right?" Richie said. "Things are going to get heavy. Give Station Bay a few smiles for the road."