Sneaking His Way into the Multiverse (RWBY Jaune, WC-lite mechanics)

[LazyAutumnMoon]

A group of four hiked up a tree root large enough to accommodate two-way car traffic. It was one of the traversable routes mapped out by past Hunters of the Guild, and led all the way to the top of the ancient tree that was more akin to a mountain.

Near the head of the party, Jaune turned over his shoulder—his third time in the last minute—to take in the view. How high were they, now? A thousand feet? More?

His spot offered a spectacular vantage point. There was the forest below, rolling on and on. It gave way to deserts, canyons, then the crags and cliffs of a volcanic land beyond, with crystals the size of buildings rising from the rocks. To his left, far in the horizon and near the sea, he saw a forest of corals, the remnants of an ocean floor in aeons past, exposed aboveground as the seas receded. The reef was yet alive, an explosion of colors in every shade of the rainbow.

Logy had pointed out Astera for him. It's a settlement along the coast. Not that far, but still at a distance where he had difficulties telling the details. There's something like a boat sitting on a rock? Oddly-shaped, was all he could say for sure about Astera.

If he focused, he could spy the tiny, tiny forms of monsters roaming amidst the disparate biomes. They must tower over a man in person, to be visible from here. Some flew in the sky, some raced along the ground. Far away from his adventure, they clashed, and hunted, and lived. What a world he had stumbled upon.

"Hey, hey, whatcha thinking about?"

He turned back to the path. Escha crouched there, the steep incline putting her at eye height. The cat—or felyne, rather, as they were known here—tilted her head in curiosity.

"Just looking," he said. "Everything here is new to me. It's—"

"Amazing? Pretty? Stupendous?"

"Heh. All of that, I think."

Escha broke out in a beaming smile.

A cooing noise arose behind him, choked off midway with a fake cough. Tattletale drew level with the group a moment later, clearing her throat and refusing to meet his eyes.

She had been quite taken by the fluffy furball that talks.

"Quit dilly-dallying, Jaune. We have a timetable to keep."

"Yeah, but, you know…" He added a hop to his next step and rocketed forward, clearing a few yards in one stride. Turning on the heels of his boots, he took a bow, calling back to her, "I think I'm okay on that front."

The slowpoke flipped him off. He smiled and waved at her.

Past her, down in the forest, he caught a flash of sickly green among the greens. The Deviljho, still on its eternal rampage to seek sustenance. Linca and Reyfer should be engaging it right about now, harrying the monster to weaken it while waiting for a sign of their success up here.

That rather depended on them locating the Rathalos, and once more he checked the Olfactory Sensor. The signal strengthened as he pointed the tracker above them, confirming they had a while longer to go before reaching its hiding place. It wouldn't be at the very top, Logy had speculated. The scent of the former apex monster still lingered there, proclaiming for every would-be claimant to the throne that the king of the jungle died in that place. No, they'd be cautious. Staying lower until they developed the strength and arrogance to consider themselves unbeatable.

The first to catch up to him was Escha, who clamored for another look at the screen of the tracking tool. He wasn't sure if she understood what all the data presented on it meant, but he let her see anyway, the felyne meowing in wonder as she directed him to move the device this way and that.

How he recognized it was 'wonder' and not, say, a random meow spoke to the expressiveness of the felyne species. They're… well, they're not pets. Felynes were a sentient people. People who, yes, happened to enjoy scritches. They also liked the same foods that humans ate, slept in houses (though what constituted a house differed in their mind), and even took jobs to get paid. Escha referred to herself as a Palico with the pride that someone would say they were a Huntsman or Huntress.

She enjoyed flying, too, and latched onto his back the next time he rocket-stepped, afterward jumping off to land on a thinner tree root running parallel to the path at waist height. As they waited for the others, she pelted him with questions about anything and everything that she could think of on the wider universe.

"How big do the big monsters get?"

"Massive, sometimes." The Grimm Dragon came to mind. "Although there aren't always monsters at all." Escha blinked in surprise at that, as did Logy who had just joined them. "Some places I've been to have them. Some didn't."

"Places?" Escha asked, confused at first. Then, her eyes opened wide, and she stretched her body to lean closer. "You mean, you've been to more than your world and this one!?"

Jaune replayed their conversations since ascending the tree. "Huh. I guess I never told you. But yeah, my method lets me go to multiple universes. I've visited, what, seven or eight worlds in total now? Hey, Tattletale," he addressed the approaching girl while rechecking his mental count, "how many worlds have we been to?"

"Discounting that one that we spent, like, five minutes inside? Nine for you, eight for me," she answered while gamely waving for them to resume the journey, nevermind her heavy breaths.

"Weird. I counted eight for myself. My world, yours, Dunwall, Undead Burg, bunny cave, Steelport, Academy City, and here. What's missing?"

For a person half a head shorter than him, Tattletale somehow managed to look down her nose at Jaune. The corner of her mouth quirked upward with a hint of satisfaction. "Our apartment is in its own universe."

"That's the one!" he exclaimed, smacking a palm to his forehead. "I keep forgetting since we haven't stepped a single foot outside the room. One of these days, we really need to figure out that teleporter."

"Maybe. I see us affording a new base of operation before that becomes a necessity, so it doesn't matter much to me."

More like she's miffed that all her attempts at getting it to work were stymied and she never wanted to look at the contraption again, but Jaune wasn't going to tell her that.

"Nine worlds…" muttered Escha, still stuck on that bit of news. From her tone, she couldn't believe it.

Meanwhile, Logy focused on the other part of Jaune's revelations. "So monsters aren't common elsewhere. How about that." He wore a thoughtful expression on his face as he strolled along the path, one that had Tattletale raising an eyebrow. Neither chose to comment further, however.

They found their target, as Logy surmised, about three quarters of the way to the top, in a hollow that was better described as a cavern considering they could fit a house, a yard, and a thousand garden gnomes in here—which would be kind of creepy now that he was picturing it in his head. Analogies were hard.

Hiding behind the corner, they peeked inside to see a half-built nest tucked into the depths of the space. The sleeping form of the Rathalos laid atop it.

Escha ducked low to the ground, as if it would make her less noticeable. With utmost seriousness, she warned them, "Be vewy, vewy quiet."

Tattletale nearly woke the monster up then and there by breaking into laughter, clamping both hands over her mouth in the nick of time. She shook with the force of her mirth, eyes closed and face turning a shade of red.

Everyone stared at her.

After a beat, Escha asked, "Why is she laughing?" She looked to Jaune for an answer, and he spread his hands in helpless silence. Nothing had seemed amiss insofar as he recalled, so he could not even begin to guess.

"W-W—" Tattletale struggled to speak, and managed to force the words out in a rush. "We're hunting Wathalos!" She then fell into another fit of muffled snickering.

But they were, though…

Shaking his head, Jaune said, "Okay, Tattletale. You stay here and… and try to snap out of whatever it is that's setting you off. We're going to get closer to the Wa- Rathalos."

Doubling over in renewed laughter, all Tattletale could do was acknowledge him with a thumbs-up, the other hand pointing to the pouch where she kept her phone. Call me.

"Got it," he said.

Once again, the phone hung off of his neck, the soft giggles of his partner filtering through it as he advanced alongside Escha and Logy further into the hollow. They moved with care, avoiding the bones of past meals to reach a better vantage point where they could study the monster.

"Thing's in pretty bad shape," Jaune said.

The Rathalos breathed in laboured gasps, and blood covered the once pristine scales. Gouges littered the body of the monster, ripped by the teeth of Deviljho.

He indicated the misshapen bones on a shoulder, muttering low, "One of the wings looks done for after the flight here. A weakpoint?"

"Don't bank on that," came Tattletale's voice through the line. "The wounds all over it, did they stop bleeding?"

Checking, he noted that, for the most part, yes it has. The copious amounts of blood smeared on its body weren't flowing like he would expect, hardening within the many wounds to form—not quite scales—but something tougher than mere wounded flesh.

"I can see the tail from here, and that's the only part yet to staunch. There are scraps of a recently eaten animal. Eating, and sleeping. Is it… healing?"

Logy nodded, too unfamiliar with phones to realize that Tattletale wouldn't see it. "Bioenergy. It's especially strong in the New World. A few days of hunting, and the Rathalos will be right as rain."

"Then it might decide to fly on a bum wing anyway, since that will fix itself with time. Jaune, I want you to focus on the tail."

"Because it's an open wound?"

"Exactly. The damage is too much for it to come back from. Worsen that, and it'd waste the 'bioenergy' on something it can't fix. Chase it, and don't let up."

"You know, it's sleeping. Unmoving. That's the perfect chance to hit hard. I have a—"

She had already read ahead of his thoughts, being the one to assist in organizing his equipment. "Might not be enough. Those scales could mute the impact. Keep it in reserve for a good opportunity, and whittle the monster down. That's the surest method here."

Conceding the point, he drew his sword, while Logy prepared his gunlance. They moved to opposite ends of the Rathalos.

Escha hovered between them, prepared to aid either one. Despite the felyne-sized sword she held, her position as a Palico was geared more towards support for Hunters. According to her proud explanation, Palicoes fought when times called, but they excelled at gathering materials, applying medicines mid-fight, distracting the foe, and a host of other minor roles that allowed the monster Hunters to perform better on a hunt.

What she didn't know, was that Logy informed him on the quiet that the felyne had a penchant for the material gathering part, often to her own detriment, and if Jaune would please keep an eye out for that problem and pull her out of trouble like he did previous, then the Hunter would appreciate it.

At the mouth of the cave, Tattletale waved to him. He signaled back his readiness. She repeated the process with Logy, presumably receiving a similar reply, and proceeded to hold up a hand, fingers splayed. They lowered one by one in a countdown. As the last finger curled, Jaune raised his sword, and chopped at the exposed bone of the tail with all his strength at the same time he heard a shell explode on the snout of the Rathalos.

The monster roused with a roar that shook the cavern, and the fight was on.

Jaune used the opening seconds to the fullest, raining blows on the same spot while the Rathalos was still getting its bearings. The tail swung to the side in a bid to escape the pain, and when that did not work a full-body roll followed to carry the monster out of the nest.

He doggedly chased after the Rathalos as it climbed to its feet. Directly in front of the monster, Logy targeted the head, darting in to slam his lance on the cracked skull, disorienting the Rathalos with each careful swing. Jaune timed his attacks with these moments, shaving the bone thinner slice by slice. The monster had lost much of its control on the tail, and so the clumsy retaliatory sweeps of the limb, along with the wyvern's blind kicks behind it, did almost nothing to hold Jaune at bay.

Thus, soon, his persistence attracted the attention of the Rathalos. Seeing it starting to turn, he dashed in the same direction, sticking to the rear of the monster as it pivoted around. Talons raked thin air, leaving a confused monster to search for its prey. A sharp pain on its tail alerted it, as Logy bashed his gunlance against the damaged bone, cracking it further for Jaune to saw off an additional inch with his blade. With a snarl, the monster twisted his way again, leading with a headbutt.

Logy skipped back, but Jaune caught the full brunt of it. The battering ram of a good two tons met his shield to send him flying to the far wall of the hollow, where he slammed against what felt more akin to concrete than wood, the air blasted out of his lungs.

Gravity peeled him off the wall, and he dropped to the ground.

"Are you alright!?" shouted Tattletale through the phone.

Meh.

The pain was fine, he had experienced worse. Except, woozy, he could only answer with incoherent mumbles, laying there as he tried to get his breath back.

Her state of fright was growing, which he didn't like.

Then, a jar filled with a golden liquid smashed into his face, shattering to splash him with the contents. Drops of it hit his tongue, sending a jolt of energy through him that had Jaune sitting upright with a gasp, inhaling a lungful of air.

"WHOOOO!"

Whatever was in that, it felt like he chugged a pitcher of coffee.

A second jar bonked him on the head, this time covering him in green healing potion, likely intended to heal the bruise that the jar-thrower thought they gave him, not accounting for Aura dampening the blows. He wanted to ask the point of giving a person an extra whack before healing them, but he supposed it was the thought that counts, so he raised a thumbs-up toward the culprit, Escha, receiving one back with her paw in acknowledgment. Bouncing up, he scooped his sword off the ground.

In his absence, the Rathalos had focused on Logy, and Jaune capitalized on the chance to rush back into the fray. An application of [Third Arm] dragged him under the monster and out the opposite side, back in his original spot.

One hit on the tail, and the Rathalos shrieked in anger. The source of its pain just wouldn't leave.

Leathery wings spread wide, taking the Rathalos into the air. Its mouth fell open, gasping with each clumsy flap hampered by misaligned bones and torn wing membranes, but sheer stubborn will got it staying aloft. The ceiling of the hollow was high enough that the monster hovered out of weapon reach. Sparks built between its teeth.

Jaune watched carefully for where the fireball would land, prepping his escape methods.

In an odd maneuver, the Rathalos tucked its head under a wing, facing none among the group.

"Jaune! It's coming for you!"

He grinned. Good to know. "Thanks, Tattletale."

"Yea—don't stop moving!"

He had been in motion when he heard her, rocket-stepping to the side as the Rathalos launched its attack. Not quite understanding the why of it, he nevertheless heeded the warning to keep the triggers pressed, zooming across the ground. It was a good thing he did, because the Rathalos had not spat a fireball, but a long stream of flames that criss-crossed after him.

Light taps against the cavern floor adjusted the trajectory of his rocket boots, letting him escape from the path of the flames time and again, yet the sensation of heat remained on his back. In rage, the Rathalos pushed beyond its normal limits, scorching its own throat, weathering the explosive shells Logy shot from below, all to kill him. Smoke and fire began to drift throughout the space, weighing on their breath, obscuring their sight, wood catching alight.

A boomerang smacked the monster on the nose with a thwack, making it flinch. The beam of destruction, thankfully, cut out.

"Hey, red and angry! Pick on someone your own size!" shouted Escha, four paws extended wide to make herself look as big as possible. Mighty meows resounded to intimidate her foe.

Despite the situation, Jaune had to bark a laugh at her boast, and as the Rathalos sluggishly banked around to roast the felyne, he zipped on by to scoop her up and take them both out of harm's way. A fireball landed behind them.

"Thanks for the save," he said, getting a happy nod from the Palico in return. Then, he addressed his phone, "Tattletale, how long is that thing going to stay up there?"

"Forever. It learned that the ground isn't safe."

"Where's Logy with the flashpod, then?"

"He threw one but the Rathalos barely noticed. This smoke is lessening the impact of it."

A modern explosive appeared in his hand. "A flashbang should take care of that."

"And risks wrecking all of you guys' vision. Drag it outside instead," she suggested.

He considered it. Flying monster in the open air, fighting with a cliff on one side? "Nah. Let me think—I got an idea." The flashbang vanished, replaced by a smoke grenade. Activating it, he tossed the explosive over a shoulder, severing line of sight with the Rathalos.

"Am I going to like this idea?"

"Heh. What a silly question."

Answer's obviously no.

Letting the Palico down, he raced out of the smoke. The Rathalos hadn't detected him yet, head swiveling in vain to peer through hazy darkness. Perfect.

What use was waiting, giving it free license to rain fire on them all? If he cannot make it come to him, then he just has to go to it.

A rocket-step propelled him high into the air. Belatedly, he noticed the weight on one of his legs and glanced down to find Escha had followed him, clinging to his knee. She waved a paw.

Grinning, he allowed her mischief, and aimed a hand at the Rathalos. The tattoo on the back of it shimmered. A shadowy limb burst forth. It slapped the Rathalos across the eyes as the monster turned in his direction, latching on and blinding it long enough for him to soar forward.

His boots stomped on the monster's snout, and he used the momentum to walk on, striding over the head before the Rathalos could react. Escha jumped off him to scamper ahead, racing along its back, while he landed to sit at the base of the neck, gripping the spiky scales as the Rathalos began to thrash about.

"Jaune, what the hell are you doing!?" Tattletale yelled, her voice shrill with panic.

"Yeehaw! Call me Cowboy Jaune from now on!"

"Idiot! Idiooot!"

Or that. Either would fit, really. Hahaha!

Seriously, what was in that drink Escha gave him? He wanted more.

The hovering flight of the Rathalos, already shaky, was thrown further off-balance by his presence. Drifting to one side, it beat its wings at a frantic pace to compensate, head twisting to try and bite Jaune's legs. An admirable stretch of the neck that must have strained its muscles to the utmost placed its mouth at an angle to blast a shallow wave of fire, forcing him to duck.

Once the attack ended, Jaune gave a firm shove that pushed him away from the Rathalos. Freed, it did not waste a second, flying clear. Or it tried, at least. Jaune threw [Third Arm] out to snag it by the lower back now, putting him again on the Rathalos to a truly hateful yowl from his ornery mount.

Fed up, the Rathalos banked hard to face the nearest cavern wall. Jaune gained a clearer idea of its plan as the monster accelerated on a direct course for the surface of the ancient, half-petrified wood. Twisting in the air, it aimed to take the collision on its back.

Yeah, no. Getting squished between the two wasn't his idea of a good time.

"Escha! To me!" The felyne scrambled onto him, and Jaune leapt high just before impact.

The tree hollow shook as the Rathalos crashed into the wall, hurting nothing but itself. Talons scrabbled on the wood, finding purchase and a moment for the Rathalos to recover, after which it launched off in flight once more.

If a wyvern could cry, this one might have. Jaune and Escha touched down on the limply-hanging tail, and grabbed tight. The Rathalos gave a violent shake to dislodge them, failing to its extreme frustration.

Jaune accepted a mallet from the Palico, pulled out of a pouch that almost made him suspect dimensional shenanigans with how much she can fit into it. (That, or good organizational skills, which still counted as magic to him in any case.)

Gripping with his legs, he wound back an arm, then swung down with his full strength to strike the chisel Escha had propped into the broken tail section. A sharp crack rang across the cavern, followed by an ear-splitting shriek. The Rathalos went berserk.

The monster veered, and rolled, and flipped in midair, accepting to wreck the muscles and bones of the maimed wing in the process just so that it may rid itself of the two unwanted passengers. Fire spewed every which way in the hope of clipping them.

[Third Arm] granted Jaune leverage to stay in place and raise the mallet. Escha wasn't needed anymore, the chisel lodged deep in the crevice formed between the bone. It drove an inch further as he smashed the chisel handle with another strong blow.

The keening wail did not sound like it came from a beast at the top of the food chain. No, in this moment, the Rathalos recognized the truth. It was prey.

A whimper followed the third blow. Defiance, after the fourth, with one last ditch effort to bash them against the tree. Resignation at the fifth, it cannot feel sensations in the tail any longer.

The sixth time that the hammer fell, it gave a cry of loss. The tail snapped, held together by flesh and skin that tore with every movement the monster made, dragged down by the sheer weight. Hot blood poured freely from the wound, no stemming or scabbing this time to alleviate the damage, worsened when Jaune carved into it with his sword.

Escha clambered over him as the tail at last severed from the Rathalos. The sudden absence of the weight, and with exhaustion taking hold after the rampage, led to the monster following after the lost limb in a crashing fall.

Jaune jumped from its back, carrying Escha, slowing his descent on each step with light activations of his boots until they landed nearby.

"Good job, you two!" Logy praised as he regrouped with them. "Come on, it's almost over!"

Almost? Shouldn't it be done?

The Rathalos disabused him of that delusion, slowly climbing to its feet. One wing laid crumpled against its body, damaged beyond use, and a thick line of blood trailed behind the monster. The leg broken by the Deviljho had the bones poking through the skin, but one would not think it mattered with how the Rathalos stomped forward.

"How hardy are these things?" Jaune cried, brandishing his weapons.

This time, the Rathalos abandoned flight. Forsook fire. It charged, relying on pure simple mass. If it could not defeat them by everything else, then it still had this.

The cavern shook with the force of its footfalls. It began slow, laborious, growing faster as it picked up momentum. In the end, a car, a truck, a damn train sped towards the party.

"Uhhh, Tattletale? Plan?"

"Run. Duh."

"Logy?"

"I agree. Run."

"Escha?"

"Are you kidding? Run!"

Jaune spun to the side as the party scattered, swiping his sword along the Rathalos in passing, cutting a shallow scratch.

The Rathalos ran on, crashing into the cavern wall. It had been ready for that, angling to take the impact on a shoulder. One leg kicked off the wall, the entire frame of the monster turning to face them. One stomp, two stomps, three stomps, it was gunning to run them over, as many times as it took. Jaune, especially.

"Alright, I've done this before." It's playing matador. He managed to do that against faster opponents. This was no problem.

The Rathalos made another unsuccessful pass. Jaune scored another meaningless attack.

"These guys are so annoying."

The incredible vitality of this world's monsters necessitated a strategy of striking a weakpoint over and over again, breaking one's way in. Strength, his strength rather, wasn't enough. Precision mattered. Perseverance mattered. Keeping the thing pinned so they could shank it in the soft parts mattered.

"Head or tail, Jaune. Anywhere else is too thick to pierce right now."

"If I could get it to stay still, sure."

On the third charge, he jumped straight up. The Rathalos, sensing a chance, reared its head after him.

A shade from getting eaten, Jaune triggered a rocket blast to flip past the monster. He landed right behind it and, spinning, shoved his sword into the tail stump. Accompanying the bestial shriek, blood spurted from the aggravated wound.

It fell far short of a killing blow. There's nothing important there. The monster would fall in time, but not now.

The Rathalos kept moving, yanking Jaune along until he managed to withdraw Crocea Mors. For a moment, it turned its head to look back at him, and he entertained the hope that he had angered it to the point of engaging him in a direct battle. But no, the monster was committed to its course. It reached the wall, and returned for a fourth pass.

Was it even thinking anymore? Or was it betting on him tiring out first?

Letting slip a sigh, Jaune once more got ready to dodge.

Logy threw a wrench in his plan, planting himself in front of the Rathalos with his shield raised high.

"Logy! What are you doing?" he yelled.

"Steady on," the Hunter said. "I've got a plan."

Jaune skipped to the side, then skipped back, torn between moving out of danger and staying to support his teammate. "And this plan is?" He stumbled as Logy tossed the gunlance to him, and he juggled it alongside his sword and shield, ultimately vanishing the latter pair so he could hold the lance with both hands.

The weapon looked like a mishmash of a giant revolver and a jousting lance. It would fit right in with Beacon if not for the animal skin and bone parts meshed among the metal.

"It's simple. I'll make the fella stay in place. You beat it to death."

"I have many questions."

"Ha! It's too late for that. Here we go!"

Finding its targets stationary at last, the Rathalos opened its jaw wide, and pushed itself to speed up.

Jaune rolled aside. He was the only one who did. Logy didn't move, not even at the last second. Teeth met shield, and the Hunter wedged the thing straight inside the mouth of the Rathalos, his feet carving two grooves as he was pushed backward.

The grooves deepened, then caught, digging no further. One would think that would result in Logy being squashed flat by the massive frame of the monster, yet he held firm, knees bending under the force but refusing to buckle.

"You're kidding me," Jaune said, not quite believing it.

The Rathalos was the one to lose momentum, grinding to a halt. It strove to overpower the Hunter, pressing down with all its weight.

Logy turned, and cheerily called over, "Your turn!"

Right. This wasn't the time to gawk.

"Head or tail, huh?" He cast his gaze between two choices.

He first thought to aim for an eye, or the open mouth. The furious push and pull between Logy and the Rathalos prevented a clear shot. The tail was a death of inches, an arduous bloodletting that would require who knew how long. Tattletale interrupted before he could decide.

"Wait, Jaune, what's that spot on its back?"

Jaune blinked, and flicked his eyes up.

There, near the base of the neck, was a spot devoid of scales, revealing the pink flesh beneath.

It was where Escha harvested the scales in their first encounter with the monster. Her light touch had left little trauma there, and so avoided activating the hardening process that would toughen the affected area.

"I think you've got a winner."

"Yeah. I do, too."

An easy rocket–step dropped him onto the monster's back. It noticed, and attempted to dislodge the shield so it could go after him. Logy put a stop to that by jamming the shield further, locking it between the sharp teeth.

Lifting the lance high, Jaune pointed the tip at the unprotected flesh, and stabbed downward as hard as he could. The bone of the Anjanath, honed to an edge, parted the flesh to slide a few inches deep, provoking a roar from the Rathalos.

Jaune furrowed his brow. The attack hadn't been all that impressive, and he was now considering the idea of swapping to Crocea Mors. The lack of the lance's weight meant he wouldn't achieve the same penetrating power, but the speed of his lighter sword—

"Pull the trigger!" Logy shouted from below.

Checking the handle of the gunlance, he located the item in question. It resembled one that would be found on a regular gun. Reversing his grip to hold the weapon the proper way, he obliged Logy's request.

Boom!

With just a light click, a gunlance shell slammed into the Rathalos, right next to the lance tip, striking flesh that had been softened by the first stab. The resulting explosion pushed the lance out.

The Rathalos bucked, nearly throwing Jaune off. Lassoing with [Third Arm] maintained his balance, and he drove the lance into the wound a second time, deeper now. Something clicked as the gun barrel pressed tight against the Rathalos.

Logy called up, "Hit the catch next to the trigger, and pull again! Fullburst!"

Boomboomboomboomboom!

This time, the trigger depressed flat against the handle, and a section of the gun barrel unlocked to unleash the remaining shells in one fell swoop, the explosions combining to blast the gunlance out of the wound. It flew past Jaune, and he strained to keep the lance in his grip while a vibration worked its way up the weapon, up his arm, and thrummed through his whole body. He was standing horizontal, almost, hanging on to the Rathalos like a rappelling mountaineer as it reared back.

Logy, dangling off his shield that was still inside the wyvern's mouth, smashed a flashpod directly into one of its eyes to overwhelm the senses of the Rathalos, blanking out its mind.

During that opening, Jaune stabbed the lance back in the wound, and Logy roared his next order.

"The catch on the other side! Wyrmstake cannon!"

A smaller tube extended, just below the long gun barrel. A sharpened spike rested at the tip, resembling a bayonet. It shot out in a drilling motion, spinning round and round to dig into the Rathalos before setting off in—BOOM!—yet another explosion, this one shattering the layer of bones weakened by the fullburst barrage.

The Rathalos slipped to the ground, on one knee, then the other.

"Brace the lance! Lever at the top!"

Searching for the best stance to do that, he adjusted his grip on the handle, tucking it under his arm. Finding the switch, he thumbed it.

From within the lance there came the sound of fluids racing from one end to the other. It had to be some kind of fuel, because an igniter near the tip of the gun barrel lit a flame. In a flash, Jaune experienced a vision of what would soon follow, and his heart fluttered in anticipation.

"Wyvernfire!"

The Anjanath, long dead, yet breathed again as a jet of flames shot out of the gunlance and straight into the Rathalos, powerful as anything it ever sent at Jaune. White-hot, the intense force was such that it launched the gunlance like a rocket in the opposite direction, taking Jaune with it. He flew in an arc, landing yards away from the Rathalos that was now cooking from the inside.

Lying on the ground, Jaune stared at the cavern ceiling and muttered to himself.

"Oh please, oh please… let me do that again."

Stubbornly, terrifyingly, the Rathalos hadn't died then and there. Crawling, it turned to level a baleful glare at him. Jaune sat up as the monster opened its mouth, seeing the last spark of fire flickering within.

"Yoooou... are entirely too much trouble."

Answering the challenge, Jaune summoned a loaded weapon to hand, grunting as the weight settled on one shoulder. He aimed it directly at the mouth of the Rathalos.

But then, the monster reached the limits of its strength. With a final roar, the Rathalos sank down, expiring where it lay.

He took his finger off the trigger. Suspicious eyes studied the monster for one last trick. Finding none, he relaxed and fell flat on his back.

"Alright, guys. Let's get that Deviljho."

Outside, a signal flare screeched into the sky, lighting up in fireworks to alert their colleagues of their successful hunt.

-o-​

A lone tree grew by the coast, and Jaune sat beneath its shade. Nowhere as big as the ancient tree at the center of the jungle, it was mighty in its own right with the trunk wider than he was tall, and perfect for him to rest against while enjoying the seabreeze blown in from the ocean at his back. Next to him lay a pile of assorted knick-knacks, objects from his Pocket he judged would be unnecessary during the next hour and thus removed to make space for things that were. On his other side, Tattletale huffed and puffed, wiped out by the return trek down from the Rathalos nest.

"Have you ever seen anything like it?"

He was referring to the stampede before them, with creatures big and small rushing out of the jungle in a chaotic scramble. Dinosaurs lumbered in packs that split in halves to run along the coast. Monkey-like lizards scampered underfoot, or clung to larger beasts. Above, colorful tropical birds flew in one great flock.

"Nope…" the tired girl replied in a soft voice. Her eyes were shut, head tilted back. "Means that… it's close…"

He could have figured that out for himself. Unless there was a third big monster hanging around the area, it had to be the Deviljho responsible for the mass exodus. Linca and Reyfer were supposed to lead it here to the rendezvous point.

The first faces he recognized weren't them, though. Logy, accompanied by Escha, exited the jungle from a different direction, making a beeline for them. Escha went ahead, zipping across the ground to climb onto Tattletale's lap, where she offered the girl a jar of golden liquid with both hands.

A small smile tugged at Tattletale's lips, and she accepted the jar with a muttered thanks. As she sipped at the energy medicine, her hand rose to brush through the soft fur of the felyne, eliciting a contented purr; Escha wasn't shy about it, pressing her head into the hand.

Somewhat rejuvenated, Tattletale greeted Logy as he neared, "Got what you needed?"

Logy nodded. "The treetop camp still had a supply of sleep herbs. Took a bit to find the parashrooms, but I fashioned a couple of tranq bombs out of them." He showed them two pink orbs composed of what looked like wadded-up clay. "These will harden in a few minutes, then one good throw can crack them open."

"So that's what they look like… You sure this is enough for a monster?" Jaune asked.

"Two tends to be the amount that affects most species. Any more and it could mess them up when they inhale the fumes, which is a problem if it's a monster we decide to relocate instead of slay."

Tattletale held her chin, studying the bombs. "Things can't be that simple, or the monster hunting gig would end pretty quick. The toxin in those bombs isn't that strong, is it? And really only works when the target is somewhat worn down."

"Exactly," Logy said. "Toss these at the Deviljho now and it wouldn't do a thing. If it's already half-unconscious? Knocks the fella right out for our retrieval crews to move."

That still sounded dead useful to Jaune. A method to shorten battles, to retreat from danger, or, say, to put a dragon in a position for him to strike a decisive blow? Color him intrigued.

"This could have been useful when we fought the Rathalos," he remarked.

Logy pulled a face. "No way, nuh-uh. Guild regulations are clear on that, and I agree with them. Overuse of these when they were first invented bit us in the butt. They're best for the ones we want to capture and nothing else. If we're slaying a monster, we do it right. They have the same reasons to live as we do."

"The responsible slaying of monsters, huh?" Jaune said, musing on the concept. On Remnant, that involved massive firepower, the bigger the better, until the Grimm population of an area hit zero. Although, he had to admit that this universe didn't face the same sort of foes. Monsters here weren't evil, from what he had seen. Vicious, pissed off, and gluttonous, but not evil. And so, for all the tricks and traps that Hunters employed, they gave the monsters a chance to fight for their lives.

Jaune wasn't as sure about that last part, because seeing the trees collapsing in the distance was hitting every alarm button. His instincts screamed at him to either run, or kill whatever was the cause of that.

He jumped to his feet, and recapped, "Step one: Tire it out. Step two: put it to sleep. Got it."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Tattletale chirped, peppier now with the super-coffee she just drank. Brushing off her outfit, she got up and moved to the stretch of sand set further down the coastline, where she had planted the camouflage cloak. Ducking to the other side of it, she vanished in a blink, with her next words coming from his phone. "Good luck, Jaune."

"Easy-peasy," he said, psyching himself up.

His preparations were simpler. They didn't want the Deviljho near the tree, and the knot of vines strung on the branches, just yet. It was a contingency to keep in the back pocket. The area in front of it featured mostly flat ground, with a few outcroppings. That would be their battlefield, and he advanced into the center of the space. The others joined him there, and not a moment too soon.

Their missing members sprinted into the open, arms and legs pumping.

A distance behind them, the Deviljho barreled out of the dense foliage in all its green T-Rex glory. With spittle flying and each step leaving a groove in the dirt, it mounted a charge that none dared stop.

The Hunters have left their mark on it, however. The Deviljho breathed in heavy gasps as it ran, stomach starved of food and growling, with some of the exterior teeth broken, presumably due to Linca smacking it with her hammer. The scorch marks, mud splatters, and unrepentant grins on the two Hunters' faces spoke of a wild time fending off their target. Neither carried worse than superficial wounds, and seemed in fighting shape.

"We dropped a dang cliff on it!" Reyfer boasted upon reaching them.

Logy raised a thumb. "Nice!"

Yet despite that, Devijho survived. Jaune once again marveled at monster physiology. Frankly, this one might be beyond them. Good thing they didn't have to kill it.

And if it could survive a rockslide…

The Hunters drew their weapons, and they along with Jaune fanned out in a loose half-circle, dividing the monster's attention. The tactic was doubly effective on the ever-ravenous Deviljho, now rocked by indecision on which prey to eat first. It'd get to them all, of course, that was never a doubt in its mind, but the choice of appetizer could set the tone for the whole meal.

Lucky Boy Jaune received that honor. He would have liked to attribute that to a magnetic charisma or dashing good looks, except he had the sneaking suspicion it was more because he dressed in a flashy white and red poncho, the colors blaring his presence.

The Deviljho unhinged its jaw, the mouth opening impossibly wide, head lowering until its chin scraped the ground at the perfect height to scoop him in.

"Might want to move there, just saying."

"Yeah, yeah, I will." He summoned a long metal tube, propping it on a shoulder. It was what he would have used on the Rathalos, but never got the chance. "After this. Bets on it surviving a rocket launcher?"

The responsible slaying of monsters called for the most super ethical of weapons.

"...Where are you putting the shot?" Tattletale was game.

Taking a knee, he aimed the rocket launcher. At this distance, and with how big the monster was, he couldn't miss. And there was only one target he could go for, as it blocked the bulk of the Deviljho from sight.

Observing from her hiding place, Tattletale figured out his intentions. "Ah. Dead as a sandwich, then. Bet."

Jaune pulled the trigger. A line of smoke trailed the rocket as it shot straight down the gullet of Deviljho.

The monster jerked its head, swallowing on instinct.

BOOM!

The explosion rocked the Deviljho, sending it stumbling. Its belly distended with the force of the blast, bulging in an almost cartoon fashion. A slip, and the monster struck the ground with a slam that raised tremors below their feet. It laid on its side, twitching, with a column of roiling smoke rising from the open mouth.

In that moment, Jaune became the envy of all the Hunters as they stared at the rocket launcher.

"Sooo, did I win the bet—I didn't!? It's still alive! Holy crap!" Tattletale gasped in realization. "They're a species that eats everything, even trees and dirt. To digest that… The stomach is probably the toughest organ in a Deviljho!"

"Pretty much what I thought," Jaune said. "The thing shrugged off a rockslide."

She scoffed. "There's no way you predicted it would live through this."

He didn't. In truth, he was also hoping with all his might that it dies when he pulled the trigger, capture be damned. Because if it lived, then it was going to be pissed. At him.

The Deviljho rolled onto its stomach. Scarlet eyes locked on Jaune, and the monster growled through its teeth.

A change came over the Deviljho as it laid there. The smoke pouring from its mouth took on a new consistency, thicker and scattering ominous sparks. With a tearing sound, the scaly hide on the back and shoulders of the monster split apart in long seams, the muscles beneath swelling to bulge through the gaps. The exposed flesh pulsed with a red glow, slowly spreading to the head of the monster—at which point Jaune recognized what was happening.

The Deviljho had gotten really, really angry. And that gave it a power-up.

"I might have made a mistake."

Logy laughed good-naturedly. "Don't say that! You did great! Fella may act tough, but that did hurt it badly. See how it's trembling?"

"That's not rage?" Hope sprang in his chest.

Then the other man killed it.

"It's not all rage. There's damage being done inside, where we can't see." Logy pointed with his lance. "So, new plan, everybody. No need to defend yourselves, there's nothing on Deviljho's mind except Jaune. Just focus on attacking."

"And what about me?" Jaune whimpered asked in a calm and collected manner, very much holding out doubts on this strategy.

"You, my friend, will be putting your strange abilities to use, and—"

"Run, Jaune, run!"

"What she said."

Jaune looked at the monster bracing one leg under itself, then the other, before pushing off the ground. The whole time, its gaze refused to stray from him. The red glow had reached the eyes, and the monster growled hoarsely through a scorched throat.

"Oh, joy."

The growl ramped up into a roar, screamed to the sky, as the Deviljho broke into a new charge. Long strides carried it on top of them in a matter of seconds. The head reared, jaw spread wide to let Jaune count the rows and rows of sharp fangs.

"My, what big—"

The head slammed down, crushing the spot he just vacated. Rock and dirt flew high in a spray, some hitting Jaune as he floated in the air.

He tried to calm his breathing, a hand over his thundering heart. "Fast, aren't you?"

A red eye flicked in his direction.

Jaune cleared another hundred yards at a sickening speed, because oh wow can that thing stretch! The monster was standing vertical on tip-toes, the massive jaw clamped shut way past Jaune's previous position, which would be somewhere around the height of the stomach now. Legs tucked into his chest, he looked down, gulping in apprehension at how close that had been.

Then, he put out a hand and summoned the boulder in his Pocket. The size of a person, and many times denser, it immediately dropped, bashing the Deviljho right on the nose to make it go cross-eyed.

His other hand took a picture with his scroll.

Heh. Throwing out most of his stuff to free up room was so worth it.

"Jaune, twenty seconds," Tattletale warned.

Already? Time really flies on rocket boots. Shutting off the power, he fell after the Deviljho. Near the ground, he began rocket-stepping to slow down, angling to land beside his rock while the Deviljho was still shaking off the hit to the face. A tap and it returned to his Pocket, primed for a second run should the opportunity arise.

Meeting the eyes of the Hunters hard at work chipping away at the ankles, he saluted them before escaping ahead of the monster. They went ignored by the Deviljho as it pursued him with single-minded focus, especially since they stayed in place rather than joining the chase.

Logy, in particular, had turned toward the beach and was signaling at Tattletale. A few moments after that, her voice spoke to Jaune from the phone, relaying what the Hunter said.

"Circle around, and come back to them. Do your best to stay low to the ground so their attacks can reach the head. Stunning the monster will make it easier for the tranq bombs to take effect." She continued the explanation as he followed the instruction and banked to the left. "Basically, we want to scramble those brain signals hard before adding the toxin to the mix."

"You make it sound so simple," he said, half-jesting.

The other half was pure adrenaline giving him a case of motor-mouth, because his route allowed the monster to cut on an angle to intercept him, which it did, and he was coming into range. He watched the teeth.

He should have watched the tail.

The shape of the Deviljho lent it an impression that was easy to underestimate. Long, fat, and green…honestly, it looked like a pickle. One would think it clumsy, and lazy. The way it pivoted on the balls of its feet was anything but, resembling the graceful movement of a dance more than anything.

A dancing pickle.

The tail whipped through the air, a solid block covering the height of a double-decker bus at its thickest, and almost as tall as Jaune at the thinnest.

Launching [Third Arm] to pull him, Jaune ducked low in a slide. Not low enough. The tail cracked him on the chin.

Momentum continued to carry him forward. He hit the ground, bounced, hit it again, bounced again. Unable to tell up from down, his attempt at recovery via rockets scraped his face on the earth for a good length, eating dirt the whole way.

Salvation came in the form of abs with him smacking face-first into Linca, who had missed the catch. Rock hard, they were still softer than the monster bones she wore as armor, so he was quite grateful for that.

"Owwww…" he said in thanks.

It was the best he could manage at the moment.

"You did good, Jaune!" Logy praised, slapping him on the back with the others quick to pile on. "You did good!"

"Owwww…" ("Glad to hear it!")

An energy shot from Escha got him standing in time to meet the Deviljho. He waved for the Hunters to split to either side, leaving him alone in the lane. Shadowy wisps wrapped around his hand, and he tapped his heels impatiently, stamping light scorch marks below.

He was beginning to get a grasp on the monster. The speed it can bring to bear meant he shouldn't move early, lest it adjust for the maneuver. Put a lot of distance between them, also a mistake. For the Deviljho, its size was a weapon, and the sweeping blow reflected that. Leave space, and it filled the space.

Evade, but keep within a tight area. That was the key.

The chin of the monster hit the ground, driving a wide groove as the mouth stretched wide.

[Third Arm] extended out. Not to the full extent it could be. Not even half. A long hop's length. A tug, and he turned on his heels to watch the Deviljho brush past, smiling as he listened to the sound of explosive shells and Linca's hammer cracking the monster on the chin—revenge by proxy, he considered it. A step back avoided the wider bulk of the body.

The monster dug its talons down to bleed away the momentum, swinging around. To help it locate him, Jaune brought out one of the few firearms he kept on him—there weren't many that still had bullets—and popped off a couple of rounds, the loud noise attracting its attention.

It didn't rush this time, needing two strides to close the distance. The head reared, a familiar tell. Jaune backstepped as the ground exploded before him, one hand raised over his eyes to ward off the spray of debris, then skipped behind Linca to give her room to slap her hammer on the chin again.

Reyfer got his own licks in, eliminating an eye with his bowgun projectiles to elicit a screech. The Deviljho almost lost interest in Jaune at that point, averted with him peppering the other eye with gunfire. The threat of total blindness refocused it real quick, and Jaune had to dodge another chin slam.

A number of exterior teeth were knocked loose with that attack. Jaune wondered if the monster realized.

Linca broke a couple more, and Jaune sticking around to bait the Deviljho soon made him her favorite person in the world as she went to town with her hammer. The massive chin became pockmarked with craters under her hand, faults forming through repeated strikes.

A cheer went up among the party as they witnessed the first of those faults shattering to reveal a softer meat beneath the hard outer carapace.

By this point, the Deviljho hated all of them, not just Jaune. With multiple annoyances scurrying underfoot, it chose to attack every single one at once. Corded muscles flexed as the monster squatted, then leapt upward.

"Scatter!" Jaune and Logy both shouted.

Reyfer was already safely outside range. A sprinting Logy scooped Escha into his arms in passing. Linca dove clear.

Jaune slipped below the now falling Deviljho, dropped his rock there, and blasted his rockets at full power to escape the area.

The Deviljho came down, and one foot landed right on the boulder. Its weight drove the rock into the ground, but not before the monster slipped on the unexpected impediment. Instead of two feet, the entire frame of the Deviljho landed on its side, kicking up an earthquake that had everyone stumbling.

When they regained their footing, it was still lying down. Identical grins grew on their faces.

Jaune pointed at the monster. "Charge!"

The Hunters gladly obliged, rushing in from every direction to unleash their most devastating attacks. To Jaune's eternal jealousy, Logy got the chance to pull off the full breadth of gunlance functions, drilling into the broken gap. A massive bowgun bolt struck the same spot, exploding to widen the wound, helping to prepare it for the third Hunter of the party.

Linca, caught on the opposite end of the monster, ran up an incline with her hammer wound back. Taking a jump, she threw the heavy weapon forward, and followed the momentum to spin round and round in a tight revolution that repeatedly smashed the hammer all along the length of the Deviljho, carrying her ever closer to her target.

From the phone, Jaune heard Tattletale groaning through a headache. She's an odd girl, smart yet sometimes confused by the simplest of concepts.

The final hammer blow slapped the Deviljho in the cratered chin, and with a sudden jerk, the monster relaxed in a boneless stupor.

Red, glowing muscles faded in color, shrinking to fit within the skin.

They had stunned it.

Reyfer called over, "Logy, toss the—"

"Way ahead of you!" The pellets were already in his hand, and the Hunter pitched them at the Deviljho, They shattered against the snout, releasing puffs of pink smoke that the monster inhaled in one breath.

Nobody moved, or made a sound. Six sets of eyes stared hard at the monster, waiting for a reaction.

Just as they began to let their guards down…

It twitched.

"Uh-oh," Logy said, utterly failing to convey the trouble they were in.

With laborious effort, the Deviljho rolled to its feet. It swayed like a drunken sailor, but remained upright. The working eye rolled in their socket, bleary and lost, taking a long time to find the party. Though once it did, it never left them for a second. A rumbling growl rose from its throat, matching the one in the stomach. Hate did not spur it on this time. It was ravenous.

"You didn't exhaust it enough," Tattletale explained, rather unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I think we got that," Jaune said. "What now?"

Logy answered, "Heh heh. That's why we have backup plans. Lead it to the tree!"

They retreated in a disorganized mob, sure in the knowledge that their foe would pursue the snacks on legs that it saw them as. There was little grace in the mighty footfalls now, the Deviljho too groggy to stay on a straight course.

Reaching the tree, they ran beneath the outstretched branches, guiding the monster so that it would travel through the same spot. Jaune rocket-stepped to draw level with the foliage, among the criss-crossing network of vines. Many had been cut free beforehand, with just the two key tree branches that Tattletale identified left intact to support the arrangement.

As the Deviljho passed under him, he swung his sword to sever these last connections. The cords of thick, hardy vines fell onto the Deviljho, and in the subsequent struggle tangled hopelessly around it. Once more, it crashed to the ground.

"Good!" Logy said as Jaune landed beside the Hunters. "Alright, everyone." He cast his gaze across the party, meeting their eyes one by one. "This is it. The finish. Either we exhaust it, and the tranq bomb toxins take effect, or we slay the Deviljho for good. Whichever course it shall be, none could deny that this was our greatest hunt to date!"

Linca, Reyfer, Escha, and Jaune raised their weapons to the sky, and roared their approval.

"Now, let's get that Deviljho!"

No sooner as he said it, a tranquilizer dart flashed by the group, zipping straight into the monster's nostril, causing it to sneeze a glob of mucus. A second dart joined the first. Then another. All were shot with unerring accuracy despite the target twisting and turning in a wrestling bout with the vines.

By themselves, they would do little to a creature of that size. Combined with the toxin already wrecking havoc inside, the flagging strength, and the many blows to the face… they did just enough to push the monster over the edge of unconsciousness.

The red eye blinked. It blinked again, slower. The third time the eyelid fell shut, it did not open.

Slowly, the head lowered to rest on a layer of vines. The Deviljho ceased to struggle.

Snores soon arose.

The people standing over the sleeping monster turned their heads in the same direction. Their gazes landed on a stretch of sand along the coast, where a girl posed with hips cocked and a crossbow held aloft. Smiling sweetly, she greeted them with a wave, wiggling her fingers.

Tattletale stole their kill!

-o-​

The wooden gates opened, allowing passage to the procession.

First through were the lumbering dinosaurs used as beasts of burden, dragging behind them a cart the length of a cargo truck. The Rathalos rested upon the cart, and sunlight cast a rippling shimmer on the red scales to draw the eye.

A second cart trailed the first, and if the last one attracted attention, then this one commanded it. A monster never seen in the New World. A species thought to exist only across the sea. Known as "World Eaters' for their all-devouring hunger, a Deviljho crossed the gates. Alive.

Among the onlookers, a researcher dropped the stacks of thesis papers in her arms, and salivated. A gluttonous Hunter looked at the puny bird drumstick he was eating, then at the legs of the Deviljho, and did the same.

After them came the heroes of the hour. Monster Hunters, and two strangers. A rousing cheer greeted their arrival, and that was how Jaune got his first look at Astera.

More outpost than settlement, Astera was built for function. Built as shelter and defense in one. Beyond all that, it was built—

"Are those ships?"

Logy laughed, and turned around to spread his arms wide.

"Welcome, you two, to Astera! Where ships are houses!"

He hadn't been kidding. The people of Astera ascribed to the idea that anything can serve a second purpose. The multi-level outpost stretched its way up a waterfall, and comprised dozens of ships recycled after completing their voyage to these lands. Hulls and sails formed freestanding roofs to provide shade for the port, in one case with an entire clipper turned upside-down to be raised aloft by ship masts. The floors were made of deck planks, as were the bridges crisscrossing the inlet. Ships rammed into rocks became buildings, move-in ready, stacking one on top of another to create a residential district.

Above the settlement, resting on separate rock spires, there balanced two halves of a ship prevented from collapsing solely by the support beams connecting them.

Tattletale shook her head at the haphazard construction. "It's a madhouse…"

So she judged. That wasn't the impression that Jaune received as he followed Logy and the others through the shipyard, turning every which way to take in the sights. The individual parts may seem messy and chaotic, the many voices and meows merging in a rowdy din, but everyone moved with purpose, whether human or felyne. Running, in cases. Always off to somewhere, a destination on their mind. A thousand different stories, tied to one unified goal.

And that was the Guild. The Research Commision of the New World.

Here, the city never slept. Never stopped advancing.

Reyfer the gunner soon split off from the party to go report their findings, heading to a corner of the outpost where a grizzled old man that looked like he bench-pressed people for fun stood at the head of a table strewn with maps and notes. That old man met Jaune's gaze across the distance, before glancing to Tattletale, keen eyes scrutinizing what did not belong amidst the tableau that was Astera. He then broke into laughter, giving the pair an approving nod.

Jaune got the feeling that this was a man who would very much enjoy hearing about the impending Rath species influx.

Directed onto a platform lift, he marveled at the water-wheel pulley system that carried them to one of the overhead bridges. There was a rough simplicity to it that hid the ingenuity of the Astera locals.

As they stepped off it, Linca bade leave, adjusting the sack of modern firearms on her shoulder while pointing toward the entrance to a nearby building. An orange glow, and heat, emanated from the open doors.

"I will go put in the equipment orders now. That way, they can rush it for when you leave tomorrow." The Hunters had voiced their full confidence that the guns—especially the rocket launcher—and remaining bullets Jaune was leaving behind for them would be more than sufficiently interesting to the smiths to wrangle them that favor. "Final call, you are definitely fine with the shares?"

Jaune nodded. "We can't stick around for the days it would take for the Deviljho to be studied, so it only makes sense you get the parts from it. And I should ask you the same question. The Rathalos—"

"Is one of the many to come," she finished for him, with Logy and Escha humming in agreement. "We will soon be up to our ears in Rathalos gear. The Deviljho is… rare. Very rare. The bones would make for a wonderful hammer." The hammer enthusiast pumped her fists in anticipation.

Faced with her eagerness, he could only chuckle. "Fair enough."

Both sides were getting the best of it, so what was there to complain about?

Well…

After Linca left, Jaune turned to Logy. "I still think it's best we leave now. That portal gets finicky once our reason to be in a world is over."

Logy would have none of it.

"You earned those monster parts, and you earned your rest for the day. That's what a hunt is. If your portal is so smart like you said then it'd know that."

Tattletale facepalmed. "And I told you that's not how it works! A sophisticated program doesn't equate sentience, or understanding!"

The mad shrugged his shoulders. "The portal is in the mosswine grove, right? The retrieval squads are spreading the news around now. Our people going into the forest tonight will check on it. If oddities spring up like you warn us, we'll tell you right away. Otherwise, why worry?"

It wasn't the first time they had this argument, or the fifth. The Hunters had insisted on celebrating. Once they learned that the portal in Dunwall took time to spread, and had started to revert the moment the two of them left that universe, no dire warnings would persuade them from this course.

"Just…" Jaune gave up. "Just don't touch it."

"We're a careful lot, didn't ya know? Now, come on! You need to experience a real meal!"

That was another point of contention between them. The locals had been aghast upon hearing what Jaune considered a proper-sized dinner, let alone Tattletale and her tiny portions. Linca even cried tears of sympathy for the pair.

Jaune would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted. Forget dino nuggies, he could eat dragon meat!

Or, well, wyvern. Whatever. Those counted. If anyone has a problem with it, they can make their objections known, like with his title (proven twice more on this most glorious day!) of dragonslayer.

Heading in the opposite direction of the forge, they arrived at the bustling canteen. Set on an overlook, it allowed a stellar view of the outpost and surrounding lands. That wasn't what caught Jaune's eye.

Cats.

Felyne chefs cooked food in cat-shaped rock ovens carved from the cliff decorated with cat art. One among the chefs stood out, and not for the deference that the others gave him. The brawny felyne had muscles on his muscles, bulging beneath the fur.

He took one look at Jaune and Tattletale, and balked.

"Who starved these children!?"

Logy waved his arms in denial. "Nobody did!"

"You lie," the felyne hissed. Slamming his oversized knife on a cutting board, he pointed at Jaune. "He's scrawny." The word carried the sort of horror-struck grief that one used with phrases like 'It's too late for him' and 'what monster would do this.'

Quietly, Jaune flexed his arm, poking at a bicep to check his physique. He wasn't scrawny… was he?

Tattletale gave him an odd look.

"And he wouldn't be, if you fed him, Meowscular Chef," Logy countered. "That's why we're here after our hunt, so that they can bulk up like you're always saying." He leaned over the stone counter, lowering his voice. "Get this. They've never eaten wyvern."

Meowscular Chef (and that has to be a nickname, right?) gasped.

"That girl thinks tomatoes are 'kind of gross.'"

Meowscular Chef fainted into the arms of his assistants.

"Oh, and they said two chicken eggs is enough protein for the day."

That was the final straw. Even the other felynes in the kitchen looked offended. They roared (meowed) a warcry alongside Meowscular Chef, who began shouting orders to his subordinates, screaming about how Jaune and Tattletale were in desperate need of 'gains.'

Logy smiled evilly as he led them to a free table, nabbing two extra seats for their absent members in the process. "My friends, we are eating good tonight! After hearing that, I doubt Meowscular Chef is gonna let any of us leave before the fifth course."

"...Tell me you're joking," replied Tattletale. There's a slight quaver to her voice to suggest she might already know the answer.

Escha, climbing into the seat next to her, lightly patted the girl on the arm and shook her head.

Tattletale paled, while Jaune pounded a fist on the table's stone surface, signaling his acceptance of the challenge.

The open-air canteen was giving him a front row seat to the chefs at work, and his stomach growled at the scene. Slabs of meat heavier than him were being sliced into inches-thick strips, or tenderized into patties. Fire blazed in the rock ovens, and the hearty aroma of grilling fish wafted over the air. Golden grains of fried rice danced merrily in a giant wok.

In no time at all, a feast laid before the party, one that Jaune doubted they could finish, and that's counting Reyfer and Linca who had rejoined them at the table. Then he saw the chefs start on the second course.

Oh, boy.

His first taste of dragon meat, Jaune fell in love. The steak measured thick as his arm, yet was so tender after cooking that it tore with the lightest of bites. It didn't taste like any animal he had ever eaten, boasting a natural spicy tang that paired well with the flagon of honey mead they gave him. Veggies made their way into every dish, so crisp and fresh were they that he could imagine his body swelling with energy for each stalk of carrot or lettuce leaf consumed.

…Exactly like that, in fact. Eating the food didn't weigh on his stomach, didn't bloat him. Rather, it made him feel like he could run a marathon real quick before returning to continue the meal. The flavors seemed to almost sharpen the more he ate, the vividness of the ingredients striking differently on his tongue than minutes earlier.

Tattletale stared as he blazed through the dishes to advance to the second course. When she managed to push herself to the second course, he was on the third. She, and Escha, threw in the towel there. He went for fourths.

The Hunters were on their sixth. Yeah, even he had to take a step back and say 'enough' there.

It was around that point, sitting there snacking on morsels, chatting to the Hunters while listening with half an ear to Escha pestering Tattletale for stories of other worlds, that the thought struck him.

Today was his first true hunt.

No life-threatening ambush that forced him to fight. No complicated mess that he had to untangle. He found news of a monster causing trouble, and gathered a team to chase after it. Bringing it down, he got paid. After a hard day's work, the world became a little safer because of him. It was the life he signed up for.

But what he remembered, what he treasured were the unhurried, lighthearted times. The stroll through the woods, learning of the local fauna and flora. Chatting with Logy and Escha as they climbed a tree that was more akin to a mountain. Taking in the views.

It clashed with the lessons taught at Beacon. There, they pushed the value of speed and expediency, the need to focus on the battle before all else. In time, he would have learned to shut down his thoughts, good or ill, until a Grimm was dead. Nothing mattered but that a Huntsman completed his hunt without delay. The people of Remnant depended on it, each and every day.

Living was for when the job was done.

Here, always, the Hunters lived. Even as they hunted, they lived.

He envied them. Envied that the world did not wish for them to die. That, for all that they struggled, they could exist in harmony with nature. That they laughed because they wanted to, not because they had to. It seemed to him a fairer world.

Perhaps that was why he had let these guys convince him to stay the night.

Pushing a smile to his face, he snatched up a dino drumstick, and took a great big bite of it as he rejoined the revelry, joking with the Hunters and recounting to them tales of his adventures.

Tomorrow was another day. In this moment, as the sun set over Astera, Jaune chose to fool himself for a little while longer.

And dreamt that this was the life he was meant to live.

-o-​

The next morning, Jaune walked out of the forge, having donned his latest set of equipment.

Coming to a stop in front of Tattletale, he spun in place to let her see it from all angles, before spreading his arms. "So? How's it look?"

Tattletale leaned closer, chin in hand, to scan him up and down for a good long while. Afterwards, she rendered her judgement.

"Very samurai. Very…" Her eyes darted to the side, and she waffled for a bit before looking back at him. "Very Japan," she decided.

Jaune beamed. "You like it, then?"

The smile faded somewhat when she refused to answer that question.

Well, he loved it, and that's what mattered. Blended of Rathalos scales and metal plates lined with the wing membrane, wearing it reduced the roiling heat of the forge to a warm breeze for all of him except the exposed face. He was also quite pleased with how the tests of the defensive properties turned out. A heavy sword blow deflected off his arm with barely a scratch to his Aura, whereas before a bigger chunk would have been lost.

Nobody could say the armor set was subtle, of course. The red and black scales rippled in the light, covering him from head to toe—no footwear, as he requested, but the smiths crafted an outer layer that could be attached to his rocket boots. Sharp spikes were placed in strategic places to enable unarmed strikes. A half-visor hid his eyes. Overall, it combined to lend an aggressive image. This armor was forged for battle, not games.

And not for strolling down a modern city street. People in Vale understood a Huntsman's need for a few bits of armor, sure. A few. Manufactured from normal materials. With a giant lizard making up the majority of the outfit, they would be giving him side-eyes the whole time.

"This would probably have to be kept in the Pocket, huh?"

Tattletale nodded. "I'd recommend it. Staying under the radar has worked in our favor so far. Is it hard to put on?"

"Not at all," Jaune denied. "If I hurry, two minutes tops? The armorsmiths added a bunch of little ways they showed me to help speed things up."

"Two minutes? That's pretty good. Unless it's a threat coming out of left field, you can wear regular clothes to blend in and change over when you think you'd need to fight…" Trailing off, she studied him again. "Hey, can you…"

"What?"

"Let's say the armor is in your Pocket. Can you pull it out and have it appear on your body? Instead of in your hand?"

Jaune went to answer, paused, and thought it over.

"I don't know?" was his conclusion. "I've never tried." From the beginning, using his hand just seemed more intuitive.

"Do, then. It could turn two minutes into two seconds," she advised, a pleased smile growing as he nodded. "Now, where's your shiny new whacking stick? I want to see!" Snickering, she made a show of peeking here and there, knowing damn well where it was.

They appeared from thin air. Taking her advice to heart, he had visualized the shield coming to hand with the strap around his forearm, and the result suggested Tattletale may have struck on an interesting idea that very much warranted further exploration.

Similar to Crocea Mors, it was what's referred to as a heater shield, leading Jaune to wonder if perhaps its maker had a sense of humor. A sense of irony, too, seeing as it incorporated parts from the back of the Rathalos, specifically the section just behind the spot he pulverized. Scales colored in red and black traced the shape of the spine, the raised ridge serving to deflect blows to either side.

A heat-resistant heater shield, protecting with materials that couldn't protect its last owner.

It tanked a barrage of explosive shells earlier, though, so he won't complain. The smiths knew their craft.

In his other hand, he held what Tattletale mockingly called his 'whacking stick,' and he hated how apt a term it was. The gunlance was, in essence, exactly that. A big stick that he can deploy in situations where a small stick won't cut it.

He had inquired about an upgrade to Crocea Mors at first. The blacksmith had taken one look at the blade and bopped him on the head with a pair of tongs for asking silly questions. It wasn't possible to smelt metal and Rathalos bone together in a continuous whole. A sword of monster parts would constitute an entirely different sword than Crocea Mors. In the end, a thin strip of Rathalos scales, shaved from the outermost surface layer, wrapped around the handle for a better grip, and that was the furthest extent of changes there.

New fabrication was a simpler matter. Reflecting a sort of Hunter philosophy, the bulk of the lance came from the tail he cut; his achievement, now finding purpose as his weapon. Thicker and shorter than a jousting lance, the part above the handle was divided into two sections.

A lower gun cylinder half, reinforced with the Rathalos materials—cinched with metal supports—to handle the exhaust heat arising from the various incendiary functions contained within, from the explosive shells, to the wyrmstake cannon, to the wyvernfire.

A less complicated and primarily-metal upper half, serving both as a blunt instrument and a casing for the gun barrel, which was hidden under the sole monster part put into it, a lance tip shaped from the main tail spike that blended in with the dark metal.

The weight and balance would take getting used to. Still, it can swing hard, stab well, and go boom. What's not to like?


Red Rook
Universe: Monster Hunter
A lance. It's also a gun.
Long, thick, and hard. With this in hand, one may roar with the might of Rathalos.
Disclaimer: Not intended for use with one's Flame Atronachs.


"Wowee, look who's a proper Hunter now!" called a voice.

Jaune and Tattletale turned to see three monster Hunters stepping off the platform lift near the forge. Logy was the first to reach them, and he observed Jaune's Rathalos gear with approval, the gunlance in particular.

"Metal tip? Nice. I prefer bone, myself, but the Anjanath is better for that. Theirs are denser."

With the expert present, Jaune fell into discussion with the man on the intricacies of the weapon, comparing gunlances.

The gunlance was more finicky than, for example, a hammer. It required taking apart from time to time for maintenance, the way a gun would. Combat-wise, the gunlance and shield combo shared certain principles at the base level with his current sword and shield style, but the disparity in sizes meant he would need to accommodate fighting at a different speed, along with a host of other changes. Logy had a hundred such tips to impart, and Jaune eagerly memorized them.

Soon, though, he had to ask. "Soooo… what's with the barrel?"

Set between Reyfer and Linca, who had carried it all the way up here, it was bursting with plants, fruits, cured meats, potion jars, bug cages, ammunition shells, and various odds and ends.

Logy skipped back next to his teammates, and the trio flourished their hands at the barrel.

"It's our gift for you two!"

"Ain't we awesome?"

"I included my personal stock of Dodogama jerky. It is delicious."

Tattletale narrowed her eyes at the theatrics.

"They're hiding something."

Logy clasped a hand over his heart, wounded. "What? How silly!"

"Wait wait wait," Jaune interrupted, pointing at the barrel. "Where did you get these from?"

"Bought'em, obviously," Reyfer answered. "We weren't about to scrounge them up all in a morning, but the quartermaster stores are always a sure bet for picking things up on short notice."

"Felyne fur…" Tattletale muttered.

Logy said quickly. "Escha helped with it."

Whatever mystery Tattletale was stuck on this time, Jaune didn't know. He was more concerned with the fact that these three spent their money on so much stuff. It couldn't have been cheap.

"I can't take this. I mean, it's necessary supplies that you can use for yourself!"

"That so? You want to give it back?" said Logy. "And what if we say we'll throw it in the harbor first thing? That sounds like a fun idea, don't you think, Linca?"

Linca nodded with a dead serious expression.

"I…" Jaune paused, searching their eyes. He sighed. "Seriously, guys?"

"Just accept it, Jaune. We thought this over already." A slight smile flashed across Logy's face. "This is a decision everyone agreed would be good."

Reyfer turned to Logy. "I don't know, on second gander, his weak noodly arms might not be able to lift the barrel. Maybe we should get 'im a cart."

Jaune snorted at the joke. Wiping the beginning of a teardrop from his eyes, he affected a playful tone. "Yeah? Did you forget about my magic trick, Reyfer?" He placed a hand on the barrel.

And as the barrel vanished, he did, indeed, see them panicking as they recalled he had the ability to pull his possessions into his Pocket.

"What the—" Jaune stared at the cat that had appeared where the barrel once stood. A felyne, to be specific. "Escha? Why were you in the barrel!?"

"Ehehe…" Escha rubbed her ear with a paw, nervous.

Jaune whipped his head to the three Hunters. "Did you guys know about this?"

"They did," Tattletale confirmed before they could.

The story spilled out from there.

Escha had asked for their help last night, after Jaune and Tattletale went to bed, and the group concocted this plan. Since they intended to put together a parting gift anyway, why not store it all in a barrel? Then rig a false bottom for Escha to hide inside? That way, she could come along through the portal, and go explore other universes!

"I told you that I still don't know if the portal is anything but a one-way trip!" Jaune scolded them.

They didn't get it. Or they did, and didn't care. To the cat, the risk of leaving forever would be worth it for the chance of a lifetime.

Her friends? They were cheering her on, telling her to follow her dream.

"Look, Jaune. Even if she isn't here, we'll know she's doing okay out there, and that's enough for us," Logy explained, pointing to the sky and what lay beyond.

Jaune retorted, "There's a thousand things that could kill us, kill her, during our travels!"

"Are you going to let it happen without a fight?" Linca asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well… no."

"Then we don't see a reason to worry," Logy said. "Like you told me before, there's not always monsters out there, and I want Escha to experience that kind of place. It's her curiosity that led her to the New World, and now it's leading her to her next destination, with you. And someday, Escha will find her way home, where she'd tell us all about her adventures. This isn't farewell."

These guys…

They were too carefree, too hopeful. Too good.

Appealing to their emotions was impossible, when the strength of their hearts were already guiding their actions.

So, Jaune cheated and turned to Tattletale for help. Her logic would win the day.

Before Tattletale's sharp tongue could cut down the foolish, kind Hunters, Escha leapt upon the girl to hug her around the neck.

"Please, please, please, please, please!" the cat pleaded. "I loved your stories, and I want to hear more about everything! About Aladdin! And Robin Hood! And Sherlock Holmes!"

Pressing close, she let Tattletale feel her fluffy, fluffy white fur, and the soft rumble of her purr.

Tattletale scoffed at the blatant and, frankly, amateurish attempt to sway her mind. Rolling her eyes, she turned Escha around so she could hug the felyne into her chest, the head tucked under her chin.

Then, she looked at Jaune with a slight grimace of embarrassment and defeat.

"...I'm okay with it."

Jaune slapped a hand over his face.

"Alright. Guess that's that. I give up. Escha can come with us."

A cheer went up among the monster Hunters, and he had to smile at just how honest and happy it was. Lifting his head, he continued to speak.

"The rest of you, get over here. I've got a present for all of you, too. A little thing called Aura."

He grinned, as did the Hunters.

"Those monsters won't know what hit 'em."

Universe: Monster Hunter. Location: Ancient Forest.
Event: Rathalos Hunt.
Loot: Red Rook gunlance, Rathalos armor, healing herbs, antidote herbs, sleep herbs, blue mushroom, mandragora mushrooms, might seeds, adamant seeds, flashbugs, thunderbugs, godbugs, bitterbugs, bees, healing potions, energy drinks, antidotes, various potion recipes, food ingredients, whetstones, gunlance spare parts, explosive shells, shell recipes, Meowscular Chef-approved gains, mosswines (x4).

~Ting-a-ling~ Escha the Palico has joined the party!​

---

Author's Notes: After writing this, I kind of want to replay MHW now.
.

Lisa—Jaune, chase that bone!
Jaune—Woof! Woof, woof, woof!
.

Chekhov's abs.
.

The felicitous furry feline finds friendship in the flippant and felonious fox.
.

Of the Monster Hunter weapons:

Longsword—too different a style, for the same result of a sword
Dual blades—ditto, and he dislikes dual-wielders beside.
Greatsword, Insect Glaive, Hunting Horn, Light Bow Gun, Bow, Switchaxe—I'm just not familiar with them.
Hammer—a good option, but the best moves—spin to win!—relied too much on MH logic to translate well.
Heavy Bow Gun—clashes with Jaune's method of fighting.

Then there's the weapons with shields!

Sword and Shield—Redundant. He already has a set.
Charge Blade—We can do a sweet, sweet upgrade for Crocea Mors, but how do those phials even work, lorewise? Is it ripping monster lifeforce out of the flesh it cuts? Would that work on non-monsters? Many questions, few answers.
Lance—Similar in that swing, swing, block lifestyle; different enough that it doesn't replace Crocea Mors. A wonderful choice… were it not for the gunlance with its mechashift aesthetic.
Gunlance—A lance. It's also a gun.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

With a tap, Jaune sent the four mosswines from the apartment. They're in a better place now, off to wherever sold things go.

…Okay, in all honesty, he expected the piggies to end up in a restaurant kitchen somewhere. Not one of the five-star ones, either; they fetched a pretty low price in the Marketplace. Mosswines may be delicious from what the Hunters said, but that probably translated to nothing special in the wider universes, what with food able to grant immortality or give your fist the destructive strength of a ship cannon. It wasn't even rare like wyvern meat, nor as tasty. Selling the lot got him two hundred Points.

To Jaune, it was the cherry on top of a fruitful trip.

New protective armor, an extra weapon to expand his repertoire, a whole host of useful materials that can multiply, and now this? Life was good.

Passing by the dining table, he tossed the Company scroll onto the surface. It landed near Lisa who paid it little attention. The girl was engrossed in her laptop, flipping from one website to another at blistering speed in an attempt to stuff her brain full of knowledge, all in the admirable goal of someday exploiting them to strike it rich.

Lisa did not aspire to be an academic. She aspired to own the academy.

If she didn't die starving first, of course.

Pausing in his steps, he said, "Eat your breakfast, Lisa. It's getting cold."

The reminder snapped her out of her fugue. "Oh, oops." She stabbed at the plate of chicken salad with a fork. "I got to a really interesting part and—wait a second, salads are supposed to be cold." She glared at him.

"And your plate's supposed to be empty. Come on, don't you want more gains?" He flexed his arms as emphasis.

The food that Logy and the others included in their gift was another boon he won't soon forget. Chock-full of nutrients and 'bioenergy,' it practically reshaped Jaune and Lisa after each meal, with the incremental changes stacking up over the course of three days already matching what they'd see after a couple weeks of physical exercise and good dieting. Combine that with the daily training, and Lisa was advancing in leaps and bounds in terms of fitness—she's reached forty push-ups in a row now! Meanwhile, the weight of the gunlance grew lighter in his hand by the day.

Shame that nobody in this apartment ever learned how to prepare a live pig for cooking. The mosswines might have earned themselves a spot here otherwise, and ended up in his stomach instead of someone else's. (He assumed this was the highest aspiration of edible food everywhere.)

Lisa stared at him posing for a good, long while. Then, mumbling half-hearted protests, she pulled the plate closer and got to work devouring the oversized portion. Jaune considered it a victory.

With the uphill job that was turning Lisa into a warrior handled for the moment, he moved on, filling a bucket with water from the sink before navigating through the growing piles of supplies towards the window. The newest member of their team was there, frolicking among the haphazard garden of glass jars that had overtaken the area, each hosting a medicinal plant or mushroom. She held a cup between her paws, and was using it to carefully water the garden.

"Escha, here's some more."

The felyne turned to look up at him, beaming. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome." He placed the bucket next to another that was almost empty, then squatted down to put himself at her height. "Anything I can do to help?"

She nodded. "The bugs need to drink, too. Can you please pour a little bit in the terra… terra…"

"Terrarium?"

"That!"

"Sure thing," he said. Grabbing the near-empty bucket, he scooted over to the insect cage that they repurposed from a blue delivery box. It would have been more than enough for normal bugs, but was a little small for the collection of fist-sized beetles now calling it home, especially after Escha added a bunch of random knick-knacks she pulled from the cabinets to clutter up the terrarium.

Beetles, like people, couldn't just live in a blank room of four walls and a ceiling. Nor could they thrive in this cramped a space.

Still, they had food, shelter, and—he tipped the bucket to soak a corner of the box with moisture—water. Serviceable conditions, if not ideal.

That done, Jaune sat down on the floor, where he began asking Escha for tips on the best ways to take care of the different plants and bugs. Gardening was a hobby right up until it could mix into a potion to save his life; he'd rather the specimens didn't die. And while the cat might have an uncertain grasp on bigger human words, it had no bearing on the fact that she was an expert on a wide range of subjects related to her work as a Palico, horticulture among them. He learned quite a lot by just listening to her.

More than that, he wanted to keep Escha company.

It had hit the felyne in the middle of her first night here, what it meant to be a universe away from home. He had woken up the next morning with a mass of white fur snoozing atop his face.

She's been doing better since then, courtesy of the treasure trove that was the apartment. Everything fascinated her, from the kitchen appliances, to the clothes they wore, to Jaune's scroll and the music on it. By the end of the second day, wonder had won out over homesickness.

Oh, and—

Whirr, whirr, whirr.

Escha's eyes flew wide open. She peeked behind him, head turning to follow the cleaning robot that had once again taken to zooming around the room. They've yet to figure out its schedule, with the robot activating at what seemed like random intervals, but Escha wasn't concerned about that.

The cup she held was handed off to Jaune so that she could drop on all four paws. Slinking past him, she hopped up the nearby couch, padding along the backrest over to the other end. There, she crouched in wait with an intense focus as the unsuspecting robot carried on its business, unaware.

After a few minutes, it passed by her vantage point, well within range. Escha pounced.

The poor robot stood no chance.

Unable to resist, Jaune raised his scroll and snapped a picture of the aftermath. If the device were to ever run out of storage space, it would be because of that ball of fur curled atop the cleaning robot. Checking the picture, and seeing how content Escha looked lying on her favorite perch, he had to smile.

Yes, wonder had won out over homesickness, and their new companion would be okay. Slowly but surely, life settled into a new routine, with three where there were once two.

Which made this a good time to shake things up.

"Escha?"

Pointy ears twitched. The cat poked her head up. "That's me!"

"Ready to go traveling?" he asked.

The happy meow said it all.

-o-


Universe: KonoSuba: God's Blessing on This Wonderful World! Location: City of Axel
Event: Emergency Cabbage Harvest​

Axel, a city by the river.

Sensibly surrounded by tall walls to keep the dangers outside, its people lived peaceful lives so far as Jaune could see. With bright-colored roofs and a thousand smiles, this place was, dare he say, idyllic. A wonderful destination for Escha's first foray into the many worlds out there.

"God, we are so in the boonies," Tattletale groaned.

He looked around again, wondering if she had seen something he didn't. They were standing on the corner of a bustling shopping street, with one colorful storefront after the next putting on attention-grabbing displays. Two long lines of carts and carriages traveled on the road, with the pedestrians crisscrossing it as they pleased. "What are you talking about? Sure, it's not what I'd call a city-city, but this is solidly in the upper range of a settlement. Hell, it reminds me of my hometown."

"Yup, the boonies."

"Oi."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "No power lines. No vehicles more advanced than a carriage." She stamped her foot twice on the cobblestone. Her cloak swished with the motion. "No asphalt. We're at least 150 years behind modern times."

When put like that, he supposed she had a point. His home, at least, featured some of the amenities common in Vale, if a little dated in comparison to the capital. Axel resembled one of those old-timey, pre-Great War paintings where all the ladies wore dresses at a picnic.

A girl with silver hair passed by him, and their eyes met. She gave him a wink, continuing on her way.

Well, maybe not dresses.

"I guess it's summer here." Shorts and a crop top? That seemed pretty modern to him. And those pretty eyes…

Tattletale snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Focus! We're not here to mess around."

"Uh, no, we're here to do exactly that," he retorted. "That's the whole goal of this trip, so we could ease Escha into things." Jaune paused. "Although, I gotta say we made a good pick." He waved a hand at the normal, everyday scenes. "The cabbage harvest part was already a clue, but Axel looks even less dangerous than I expected."

"There are people carrying weapons, so it can't be completely safe," Tattletale pointed out.

He nodded in agreement. "True. You know what it reminds me of? Fantasy video games."

"How so?"

He indicated a quartet on the other side of the street. "The ones that are armed tend to move in groups. In teams. That blondie at the front? He's carrying a sword. Guy behind him, sword and shield. Next guy, a bow. The girl bringing up the rear—"

"A staff," she murmured.

"With an orb at the end," he added. "A magic staff. And they're the classic party line-up for going on a quest."

Tattletale was nodding now. "I can sorta see that. It's like one of those tabletop games, and would explain the weird fashion sense."

"Practical, you mean?"

Shorts, crop tops, leather pants, capes, miniskirts, bare-chested with spiky metal shoulder pads. These were just some of the types of clothing that came into popularity due to the advent of Huntsmen and Huntresses in the decades following the Great War. Whether for freedom of movement or hardiness or whatever else, each style had its merits. Presumably, their local analogues sparked the same developments in this world.

"Weird," she insisted. "The clothes don't match this level of civilization. But, anyway, if there's magical goods here, then Axel might hold more promise than we thought. How about this, you go with Escha as planned to harvest cabbages, and I'll investigate."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You're not using this as an excuse to skip menial work, are you?"

"No way," she answered quickly. Suspiciously so.

"Uh-huh. Well, I'm against it, in any case. Today is about helping Escha settle in. She'd want you there." He struck with a low blow.

The confident smirk suggested Tattletale had a ready argument waiting in the wing. A flash of white rushing between the legs of the passing pedestrians stopped her.

Escha appeared from the crowd, back from her carefree jaunt—ahem, her very serious scouting trip of their immediate surroundings. Running on all fours, missing her pouches and armor pieces, she was in her disguised form at the moment. Nobody who took note of the big, long-haired cat would suspect her of being a big, long-haired cat that talks.

She screeched to a halt before them, looking proud with a grilled fish on a skewer clamped between her teeth that she held up for Jaune.

"Hey, hey, look what I got! Want some?"

"Thanks, Escha. Don't mind if I do." Leaning down, he accepted the skewer and bit off a mouthful. "Oh! It's delicious!"

"Isn't it?" gushed the Palico, forgetting that she was supposed to play the part of a cat that did nothing but meow. "I was just in front of the stall to smell the yummy fish, but the fisher lady let me have this one!" The entire time Escha spoke, her gaze had not strayed from the skewer, mouth watering.

As an experiment, Jaune moved the fish to the left. Her eyes went left. He moved it to the right. She followed with rapt attention.

He took a second bite, then passed the skewer down to her. "Want the rest? I'm still full from breakfast."

Escha didn't need much prompting, seizing the fish with both paws—another slipup they would have to work on. After offering it to Tattletale, who shook her head no, she happily dug into the snack.

Above her head, Jaune noticed Tattletale biting her lips in indecision, and he said in a low voice, "Oh, come on. Don't."

"She'd agree to it," was the blithe reply. Or so she tried to play it off as. Tattletale wasn't doing her usual grin.

"It's her first day."

"...I hate you."

"Heh. Don't look so glum. A few hours work will get us paid in local money, and we can go browse the stores. I'll bet they can be convinced to accept gold, too."

The proposal mollified her somewhat, and Jaune rode the momentum to wave down a passerby. The middle-aged man in rough working clothes was wary of them at first, but his face cleared up as he listened to their inquiry on the location of the cabbage harvesting activities.

"You'll be wanting the adventurer's guild. Take a turn at the next intersection, and it'd be near the end of the street. Look for that tower." The man pointed to a tall watchtower covered in—Jaune squinted his eyes—gramophone speakers?

While he would like to get the story behind that design choice, another tidbit took precedence. "Adventurer's guild? Not the farmer's association or something?"

"Oh no, this is best left to that lot. It's too dangerous!"

He looked at the man oddly.

"What?" the man asked.

Reluctant to out their group for what seemed to be common knowledge, he said, "No, it's nothing. Thanks for the help." The moment the man left, he turned to Tattletale. "Something's up with the cabbages. Or that guy."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe they're zombie vegetables. We'll find out the specifics at the guild."

The adventurer's guild (and didn't that just make one feel giddy hearing it? Like a video game!) was a grand building, eye-catching in the peculiar way that government buildings were. Stately, was the word people often used. Big and officious, to intimidate as much as impress.

That perception changed once they walked inside. The main lobby might have conducted very important business in the past, but it looked as if someone had decided that a restaurant made more money, with tables stacked in rows and waitresses moving between them. Despite the morning hours, there were adventurers deep in their cups, or ordering a feast to celebrate completion of a late-night job. A bulletin board drew a good half of the visitors. Occasionally, a team would snatch a slip of paper off of it, before rushing out of the building on their quest.

"It's like the Astera canteen!" Escha squealed.

"Did that cat just talk? Hey, Aqua, cats in this world can talk. Wouldn't that make a cooler pet than your rabbit?"

"Don't be silly, Kazuma. It was probably that girl and you misheard. Also, Sir Bunny D. Fluffy is the strongest member of the party after me. Show him some respect."

"Excuse me!? My Explosion—"

"Ahhhh don't start chanting here!"

The attention their trio garnered lasted only a brief few seconds before it was lost in the general commotion. Adventurers, similar to Hunters, seemed a boisterous lot quick to gravitate towards new entertainment. Jaune capitalized on it to hurry his companions along.

The back wall was taken up by a reception counter, and judging by the forms being signed and clinking coins exchanging hands, the people in uniform stationed there were the guild staff. Deeming it their best bet to gain information, their party joined one of the briskly-moving queues. Soon, they stood in front of an employee.

"Jaune, why did you pick this line?"

"Because it's the closest?"

"Uh-huh. It wasn't because of the pretty lady?"

"Course not."

The wavy-haired employee coughed into a fist to draw their gazes, before giving them a gentle smile. "Welcome to the adventurer's guild. My name is Luna, a guild receptionist. How may I help you today?"

"Good morning~." Tattletale seized the lead, leaning forward to put her elbows on the counter. "We would like to request more information on the cabbage harvest. Do you know if there are still openings available?"

Luna blinked blankly for a moment, before her gaze drifted to something behind the counter. She began to frown.

Tattletale broke the silence, speaking quickly, "Because, you see, my friend and I thought that this was the prime harvest season for it. So I figured, hey, why not check in and maybe pick up a job?" She hesitated a beat, suddenly looking down at her feet, nervous. "I-I wasn't wrong about it, was I? It should be this month. I could have sworn it was. P-Please don't tell me we traveled all this way for nothing!"

Jaune resisted the urge to applaud her act—or maybe gag. If he didn't know any better, he would believe her to be a shy, innocent girl from the countryside in great distress.

The receptionist hurried to reassure her. "Oh no, sweetie, you weren't wrong!" The budding suspicion faded from her face, replaced by a far kinder expression. "My apologies, I was simply astounded by the coincidence. We do indeed have a request to help hunt down the cabbages."

There's the strange connotation again. Hunt down?

"In fact," Luna said with a soft chuckle, "you could not have come at a more opportune time. The guild is preparing to make the announcement within the hour for our adventurers." She caught Jaune's wince. "Am I right in that you two have yet to register as members?"

Tattletale nodded her head, in a surprising move opting for the truth. "We can do that here, can't we? Unless it's too late?"

"Not at all, miss. I can help you with the process. Now, I must note that there is a registration fee of 1,000 Eris for each person."

What currency was 'Eris'? Were they cards like Lien? Paper? Gold?

Tattletale's innocent act didn't work this time despite her doubling down on the 'poor girl traveling a long distance' story. Luna's polite demeanor remained firm, if sympathetic. The fee was a sticking point. An IOU won't cut it.

Jaune interceded, fishing a gold coin from his Pocket that he held out to Tattletale. "Hey, there's this coin we found in the…" His mind raced for a good excuse. "The ruins near our village. Is it worth anything?"

Tattletale beamed at him. She snatched the coin and slapped it on the counter, looking expectantly at the receptionist.

"A coin from the ruins?" Luna reached for it with their permission, holding the coin up to the light—what source powered the light fixtures, Jaune couldn't tell, and he chalked it down to magic. "Hmmm. I don't believe I have ever seen this design. It looks like gold, and an almost comparable size to a ten-thousand Eris coin, but we will have to appraise it to confirm, if that is acceptable?"

"It is," said Jaune.

Luna waved down a coworker, who took the coin before removing to another room. During that time, she chatted with them on the responsibilities of an adventurer—protecting the town and surrounding area, responding to threats, basically everything a Huntsman did—which boded well as it suggested a measure of confidence that they weren't trying to swindle her with the coin.

And they're not. They may be lying through their teeth about everything else, but that coin? 'Tis gold, thank you.

That matched the verdict Luna's coworker gave, upon his return. The purity was a tad lower than the local currency, meaning they got back a small stack of eight coins, each worth 1,000 Eris. Jaune submitted three of the coins to Luna, pocketing the rest.

"Wonderful!" the receptionist exclaimed as she retrieved three rectangular sheets—each was a bit bigger than a person's hand—stored below the counter, passing one to Jaune, one to Tattletale, and one to the person standing next in line. "Then let me be the first to welcome you to the adventurer's guild. These are your adventurer cards. Please fill them out now, then tap the bottom left corner. Once set, a card is linked by magic to its owner, and will be very important in your line of work as it allows you to choose a job class—"

Interrupting, Jaune said, "Hang on a second?" Turning, he plucked the card from the very confused person behind their group, then bent down to pick up Escha and placed her on the counter.

With solemn dignity, Escha accepted her adventurer card.

"Sorry," Jaune said, dipping his head in apology to the receptionist, "but this is our third member, not that guy. Please, go on."

Luna's smile, so kind and gentle this whole time, twitched.

"This is a cat."

Jaune looked at her in blank incomprehension.

"Cats cannot become adventurers," the receptionist explained, enunciating each word slowly and clearly for his benefit. "Leaving aside the sheer absurdity of the idea, for the underlying magic of our adventurer cards to work in the first place, it requires the subject"— *ding!* —"to be sentieeent?"

A long lull ensued, filled with choking noises as the receptionist stared at the completed card held between Escha's paws. It dragged on to the point where Jaune started to worry this was a medical emergency. But then, her expression smoothed out to a picture perfect smile.

"Then let me be the first to welcome you to the adventurer's guild. These are your adventurer cards. Please fill them out now, then tap the bottom left corner. Once set…"

A perturbed Tattletale murmured under her breath, "Why is she repeating herself?"

"I think I broke her," Jaune said.

"...allows you to choose a job class. Note your level located near your p-portrait."

They weren't portraits, really, just silhouettes in the likeness of a card's owner. Escha's card depicted the shape of a cat.

"The level corresponds to the amount of Experience Points, the fragments of the soul which exist in every living thing that you will absorb, whether it comes from foes you kill or creatures you cook and eat. That number is displayed next to your level. As you accumulate Experience Points, you will grow stronger, a phenomenon known as leveling up. This grants you skill points which can be used to learn new skills, depending on your stats."

Soooo, video game logic that was realized through magic. Got it. Wild and unbelievable, but got it.

"Jaune, you're turning red. Are you okay?" Tattletale asked in concern.

"If she's serious and everything is true, defeating monsters can grant us Experience Points."

"Yeah?"

"I killed a Rathalos, a damn dragon, right before I got this card. So it doesn't count."

What was this feeling in his chest, the desire to scream and scream and never stop?

"Oof. Tough luck."

"Um." The receptionist raised a hand. "I don't quite understand, but why not try to look on the bright side? You might have missed out on the Experience Points from a, ah, a 'dragon.' That's one enemy. There are many more foes to slay out in the world. From now on, you will only get stronger."

That… okay, that did make him feel a little better.

Things didn't work out. What's new? Story of his life. If he was going to wallow in regrets, he'd be here all night. The best way to change that was by taking a step forward.

"You know what, you're right." His back straightened. "I just have to think of all the dragons I'm beating up in the future."

Luna giggled. "Yes, 'dragons.' I wholeheartedly wish you luck in the endeavor, but remember to pace yourself, okay? Don't take risks. And before everything else, you should pick a job class. Your many adventures can come after that. Here, allow me to help."

For new members, a box on the right side could be tapped on to generate a list of jobs fitting their parameters. It even included a scroll down function, proving that magic was carrying the technology hard in this world, emulating functions Jaune swore shouldn't have occurred to people yet.

Assisting him, the receptionist analyzed his stats with a practiced eye. "High strength and Vitality, average in dexterity and agility. That would open up most of the warrior branches—I can definitely see it~." She raked her gaze over him. "Although, how strange. You should have enough magic to qualify for the Paladin job but the option isn't here."

His neglect of Outsider worship was probably responsible for that.

"Still, that leaves you with quite a few options. Fighter, barbarian, shieldmaster, huntsman, crossbow—"

He slapped both hands on the counter. "Huntsman."

"A-Are you certain? That job, while it could be taken, benefits the most from agility, with vitality and strength in minor roles."

"Huntsman," he repeated, determined gaze rooting the receptionist in place.

With what looked like an anguished expression on her face, she confirmed the selection. A shaking hand returned his adventurer card to him. He paid it no mind, a fluttering giddiness welling up within him upon reading the new job title emblazoned below his portrait, which now sported a pointy cap decorated with a feather.


Job: Huntsman
Skill Points: 2
Current Skill List
[Sense Rabbit]
[Set Bait Trap]
Available Skills
[Marksmanship]


…Something's wrong.

These weren't the skills associated with heroically killing terrible beasties and saving townsfolk. Why?

The answer, when he asked it aloud, came from Tattletale. There was a Huntsman, and then there was a huntsman. One protected the world from the rising darkness, keeping the ravening hordes of monsters at bay. The other was a man who hunts. Like, for food.

Sighing, Jaune purchased Marksmanship, and stowed the card away in his Pocket. At the very least, he now had improved aim.

Up next was Tattletale.

"You have high intelligence," began Luna.

Tattletale puffed up in pride.

"But middling to low on everything else. Especially magic. I'm sorry, I don't think you can cast spells at all."

"...I didn't want to, anyway…"

It seemed Magical Girl Lisa shall never see the light of day.

Once they moved on to the job list, Jaune peeked over her shoulder to see what options she could pick, as was surprised by the shining border that ringed the entry at the top of the list. It denoted a rare job according to the receptionist, to stoke his envy.


Job: Politician
Current Skill List
[Set Bait Trap (Verbal)]


Tattletale scratched her head. "The heck? No. Why is that even on there?"

It fits you to a tee, Jaune refrained from saying aloud, as they checked the next choice.


Job: Scammer
Current Skill List
[Hidden Smirk]
[Grab Attention]


"Oh, fuck you," she spat venomously at the card. By now, the receptionist was eying her with great suspicion.

In the end, she chose the job of Scholar. It had no combat applications. However, the starting skill claimed to increase her reading speed, with Luna mentioning that future options include better memory retention and delaying sleep to burn the midnight candle for days at a time. Subtle skills that complemented her core strengths.

It just… It didn't wow anybody, which Jaune thought might have been something she was hoping for. More than once, he caught her sneaking looks at his card, comparing it to hers. Having one's capabilities quantified into numbers was turning out to be a sobering experience for the girl. She owned two stats higher than his, intelligence and dexterity, the second one winning by only a couple of points. All in all, she wasn't that special.

He would have to cheer her up in some way later.

It was with trepidation that the receptionist picked up the last adventurer card. All of them put their heads together for that one, the curiosity too strong to ignore.


Job: Cat
Current Skill List
[Feline Battlecry]
[Feline Climbing]


"Seriously?" shouted the receptionist, her composure gone, as the people closest to them craned their neck to catch a peek. Someone gasped.

"Kazuma! Kazuma! If we get an adventurer card for Baron Bunny D. Fluffy, we can level up—"

"We are not helping that apocalyptic murderbeast become even more broken! And you two! Do you think the Adventurer's guild is some kind of joke?"

That seemed to have been directed at their party in particular, so Jaune turned around, as did Tattletale and Escha. The receptionist, meanwhile, had brightened upon seeing someone else voicing the thoughts she could not. Her face quickly fell as she recognized who it was.

The boy there couldn't be any older than Jaune, and unless he had a baby-face, must be younger by a year or two. Dressed in hardy garb suited for the outdoors, he wore a sword on his hip. Arrayed behind him stood a group of girls, his adventuring party at a guess. A witch, a knight, and a drunk.

Though, the knight was fidgeting, and stayed at a remove. Maybe she wasn't part of the team?

"Who are you?" Jaune asked.

"Hmph!" The boy flicked his cape. His voice, a deep baritone, declared, "I am Satou Kazuma, an adventurer. And as your senior, let me give you some advice."

One of his party members, a girl with blue hair and a half-empty wine bottle, piped up, "But Kazuma, we finished our first quest yesterday—"

"Ahhh, don't tell them that!" The panicking Kazuma, voice reverting to a higher pitch, slapped his hands over the girl's mouth. "It counts! It totally counts!"

As the pair struggled back and forth, Jaune leaned down near Tattletale's ear. "What's his problem with us?"

"Oh, it's not much of a mystery." Tattletale flashed her teeth. Less smile, more cat that scented prey. "This insecure boy saw a chance to throw his weight around now that he isn't the newest face around here, and couldn't resist."

The boy, Kazuma, spun back to them. "That's not true!" The red glow to his face said different. "I was just—"

"Jealous?" Tattletale suggested. "Oh ho! Right in one. You've been paying a lot of attention to us. To me?" She struck a pose, cocking her hip. "Hmmmm. Not quite. Why, I'm offended, mister Satou Kazuma."

Kazuma spluttered excuses, but unfortunately for him, Tattletale was having fun.

She tapped her chin with a finger. "I suppose it's more accurate to say you're jealous of Jaune, with me as one of the reasons. I wonder what the others are?" She gave an exaggerated look between Jaune and Kazuma, calling on everyone to wonder.

The suppressed laughter and snorts that soon arose within the crowd suggested that people were reaching the conclusions she wanted them to make.

The difference in stature. The way each boy stood. The face.

For a moment, Kazuma looked like he wanted to cry. That led Jaune to realize that things were getting nasty, fast, and he moved to rein Tattletale back. They didn't need to put anyone down to assert dominance.

But then, the other boy recovered to display a sly grin.

"A man is measured by the company he keeps," declared Kazuma.

Silence.

Then, clamoring.

A wave of murmurs washed over the onlookers as they considered this sentiment. Many found that they agreed with it. The tide began to shift the other way, because people were no longer judging the two boys on their own, but on the quality of their respective adventuring groups. The equipment, the numbers, the human-to-cat ratio. The faces.

The knight raised her hand. "Kazuma, does that mean I am now—"

"Yep," Kazuma said without even glancing at her, so he missed the look of pure joy on the knight's face as she scooted closer, cutting the distance between her and the rest of the party members down to zero.

Oi! Dirty! Recruiting mid-battle to pad the numbers was unfair!

And, yes, it was a battle to Jaune now. Being the better person took a backseat once his pride got dragged into the matter.

"This isn't my full team," he said, thinking of the NPR of JNPR, who definitely counted if they were talking about teammates.

Kazuma made a show of scanning their surroundings. "Oh? Where are they, then?"

"Around." In another universe. Frozen in time. Still counted.

The other boy smirked, conveying all that needed be said. 'Around' was not 'present,' and maybe not 'exists' either. Proof, or get out.

Jaune debated the merits of pulling out his scroll. A photo of him with his team would settle it in a decisive manner. He could just say the device was magic.

Tattletale seized his sleeve the moment his hand twitched towards his pocket. "Jaune, no."

"But he's—"

"No," she insisted. "Look, I think this has really gotten away from us all, and we should calm down. Alright?"

What could he do, in the face of that gentle smile? Taking a deep breath, Jaune released the tension in his shoulders, and with a clearer head, he started to understand how silly he had been to become so riled up. They'd be here a day. Any clout he attained would vanish with tomorrow.

She patted him on the arm. "It's no good to get caught in someone else's pace. Besides, a team isn't about numbers."

"Yeah… wait. I think numbers might be in the literal definition of the word. Like, you need more than one person to make a team."

Kazuma chimed in, "He's got a point."

"Okay, you know what?" Tattletale whirled on Kazuma, the mask of gentleness slipping off her face. "I tried to be diplomatic, but having more people doesn't amount to squat. There, I said it."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," she shot back. "A proper team depends on the effectiveness of its members. Shove a bunch of clueless idiots together, and all you'd have is a mob, right?" She addressed this to the onlookers, sweeping her gaze around the room.

Behind her, Jaune muttered, "Whatever happened to calming down?"

"And don't forget," Kazuma hissed out of the corner of his mouth. "She had a huge part to play in how things ended up here before she tried to sell herself as the peacemaker."

"Making us look bad in comparison."

"How underhanded of her."

Tattletale ignored them. "The point is, it's skill that matters most. Everything else is small stuff if you have good people." She nodded sagely.

That struck a chord with the crowd, and Jaune could get why. As professionals who made a living batting monsters beyond the city walls, they must have learned that very same lesson through experience. There were things out there for which no fancy swords or simple force of numbers can match.

"So you're saying we need to prove our skills?" he said.

Tattletale balked. "What? No. Why would you even think that? I said it to settle your stupid argument."

"I dunno, the man's on to something," said Kazuma. "This does call for a match."

Jaune nodded. "Exactly. And there happens to be a special event today, isn't there?"

"The cabbages have been sighted on the horizon! They're flying straight for us! Everyone, it's time to harvest cabbages!"

The announcement cut through the hubbub, amplified to be heard far and wide beyond the building. In its wake, a cheer erupted from every adventurer except for four.

Jaune, Tattletale, Escha, and Kazuma, who were just plain confused.

"The cabbages are doing what?" Escha asked with her head tilted to the side.

"I knew that cat could talk!"

-o-​

In this world, cabbages fly.

Every year, at the moment they ripened, cabbages would take flight to avoid being eaten, entire fields of the vegetables journeying across the land in a great migration. They attacked anyone and anything that dared to stop them, necessitating evacuations of the townsfolk while the adventurers put on their farmer hats (armor) and farmer tools (big, big swords). As harvest season came, the curtains rose on a glorious battle of eat or be eaten.

And they have eyes, sort of.

Jaune still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Although, these cabbages were delicious. After he smacked one too hard with his sword and it burst into a bunch of cabbage leaves, he was poking around to find if they had a brain or another creature inside, and that turned into a taste test when the search turned up nothing of note. He has never regretted it since then. Crisp and fresh, the leaf boasted a sweetness that compared to fruits, the tinge of bitterness towards the end adding a counterbalance to complete the experience.

"Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Aaaand, twenty-four!"

He dispelled [Third Arm] and batted the last cabbage into the sack, tightening the string to prevent his harvest from escaping. With so many together, they were reaching the critical mass required to lift him in the air, and the sack floated behind him as he hurried back to the guild's command post for a drop-off. A familiar face greeted him.

"T-Thank you for your contribution!" said Luna, the receptionist. She never quite recovered from their earlier encounter, and Jaune suspected he had a part to play in the empty bottles poorly hidden behind her. "Let's see here. One, two, three… twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two in total."

Say what? Jaune looked down at the trussed-up cabbages. Counting one by one, the number he arrived at was twenty-two, as Luna determined. Quickly, he checked how many heads of cabbages he had hidden in his Pocket. Fifteen additional specimens, stowed away to be absconded with, due to their Experience Point-rich deliciousness. That number had remained the same for a while, meaning he didn't shove some more inside the Pocket by mistake. Was he just bad at math?

"Coming through," said a voice behind him. Kazuma pushed past a second later, a sack over his back and two cabbages tucked under his arm which he offered to Luna. "Can you get these two first?"

As the receptionist did so, the other boy turned to Jaune and stuck out his tongue, while his hand made a strange wiggling motion.

On Jaune's next trip, he discovered the significance of it.

"Steal!"

The word would have been lost in the general commotion, had not for a sudden lull in the cabbage swarm at this part of the field. Jaune turned his head to see Kazuma with a cabbage held in his hands. The other boy had a deer in headlights look as he stared back.

With deliberate slowness, Jaune opened the sack to tally up his harvest.

There were some missing.

"Cheateeer!" Jaune shouted, pointing at Kazuma.

Kazuma avoided his gaze, looking to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about. We never set rules on what skills are and aren't allowed. The only condition is whoever gets the most cabbages, wins." He raised the prize secured in his grasp. "Which will be me."

"That's how it's going to be, huh? I'll make a note of that." The rocket boots might see use, in that case. Screw holding back. "Oh, by the way. Where's your party?"

"Around."

Past him, Jaune saw one of them clear on the other side of the field, running from cabbages whilst crying. Another stood motionless as cabbages took turns outright dive-bombing her from the sky. The last laid flat on her face near Luna, magic spent after letting loose a giant explosion which wiped out a bunch of random monsters that tried to poach the harvest, and made Jaune fear for his life.

"Ha. So much for your vaunted team, 'Satou Kazuma the senior adventurer.'"

"You're alone, too! Where's your team, you blonde bastard?"

"It's Jaune Arc. And they're hard at work, same as me. Because we all contribute to the success of the party, and—"

"Not working together."

"—not working toge-ack!" That was close. He almost fell for the masterful manipulation! "I mean, the situation doesn't require us to be in one place. We stationed ourselves where we each would do the most good."

"Jaune, Jaune, heeeelp!"

They turned in the direction of the cry. A small sack, presumably filled with cabbages, drifted along a few yards off the ground. A fluffy mass of white fur dangled from it, front paws gripping tight and little feet wiggling to no avail.

Below her, Tattletale hopped up and down, too short to reach the felyne.

"...We're working out a few kinks."

"Glad I'm not the only one," Kazuma whispered to himself, not quiet enough. Before Jaune could hurry off to rescue Escha, the other boy stretched out his hand. "Steal."

A cabbage appeared, and without it adding to the buoyancy alongside its brethren, the sack started to lower, soon putting Escha back on solid ground. She looked their way, and waved her arms while shouting her thanks.

Kazuma noticed Jaune's glance. "What?"

"That's such a broken skill." Jaune cracked a grin. "But thanks for the help."

The other boy shrugged. "I like cats," he said simply.

"Funny. Same here." He cocked his head. "Then again, I like most kinds of animals. The only ones I can't deal with are rabbits."/"Rabbits."

By heretofore unknown instincts, they fist-bumped. Because fuck rabbits.

" So you're going to give that cabbage back, right?" Jaune asked.

Kazuma responded by scooting away a step. Jaune followed suit, putting them side by side again.

"Right?" He repeated.

"This is a finder's fee."

"It's theft. You literally said 'steal' as you stole it."

They grappled for the vegetable. Jaune's strength won out, earning him a cabbage that he stored in his bag. Afterward, they both returned to the conversation, as if nothing happened.

Kazuma said, "Why do you hate rabbits, anyway?"

"I was ambushed by one that tried to tear my throat out," Jaune revealed.

"What a coincidence. Me too, except it's been almost every day."

"Does this place have an infestation of killer rabbits or something? Asking for a friend."

Kazuma shook his head. "Just the one, owned by my useless party member. She said she bought it off a glowy screen in a pub bathroom stall that wasn't there the next morning."

"That sounds…"

"I know. She was definitely drunk. But the murderbeast is here now, and for weeks it's been trying to escape and kill everyone, including her. So far, nobody believes me when I warn them about it. I'm the Boy Who Cried Rabbit."

"Hey, quick question. Which party member is it, the one with the rabbit?" Jaune asked while pressing a hand to his temple.

"She has long blue hair, with this weird-looking loop at the top. Her name's Aqua, and she—"

Jaune cut him off. "How big is the rabbit?"

"Normal size? Why?"

"It'd fit in a cage about this big, then?" He mimed the dimensions.

"Yeeees?"

"I guess that explains why my [Sense Rabbit] skill is pinging like crazy."

Kazuma looked where Jaune directed, and spotted his teammate running towards him. He began to hyperventilate. Wide, bulging eyes filled with terror zoomed in on the pet cage she was holding.

"No. Nononono. Not now."

"Kazuma!" the girl shouted. "Kazuma, I have an amazing idea!"

The boy waved his arms wildly. "Aqua! Listen to me carefully! Put that cage on the ground!"

Her eyes lit up. "I knew you'd get it!" To Kazuma's relief, Aqua stopped and followed his order to set the cage down. "Rabbits are the natural predators of cabbages, aren't they? Viscount Bunny D. Fluffy will have these stupid things running scared in no time!" She then unhooked the latch keeping the door shut.

"Did I say to let it out!?" Kazuma wailed.

From the depths of the cage, it crawled. One furry limb extended out of the darkness, the other following soon after. The head came next. A twitching nose snuffled, as if scenting blood in the air. Long ears flopped, menacingly. With a mighty hop, the foul beast leapt a full body's length to escape its prison, landing on the grass, a spot of white amidst the green.

The rabbit looked at them—at him. In those eyes, the vicious streak was clear for all to see.

And that's when Jaune knew.

"No. No, it can't be! I defeated you! You're supposed to be gone forever!"

Yet the Beast of Caerbannog was here. Here, all along.

"Welp, it's loose. We are all going to die," Kazuma said in a matter-of-fact tone.

It was that, the resignation, which awoke Jaune from his stupor. Gritting his teeth, he banished the terror in his heart to a small, distant corner, and strode forward.

"Not if I have something to say about it," he declared, surer than he had ever been.

From one moment to the next, Jaune stood bedecked in a suit of blazing red armor. One hand held a shield that could ward off the fires of wyverns. The other wielded a formidable gunlance to slay the greatest monsters in the land. His boots left scorch marks with each step.

He wasn't the same person he was back then.

"Kazuma, run. I'll deal with this beast."

Beneath a cabbage-dotted sky, man and rabbit dueled once more for their lives.

-o-​

As the portal closed, Lisa arched to stretch her body, making a long, satisfied groan with her arms reaching for the ceiling. Escha, following on her heels, copied the motion.

"Man, that was more fun than I thought!" the girl said. "Who knew an honest day's work could be so exciting?"

Jaune, back slumped, marched by her. "Oh, I'm sure it was fun for you. You didn't have to face this little fellow here." He plonked the cage down on the table. It didn't stay still, but rattled violently. A gesture of his hand, and a box materialized next to it, filled with odds and ends that they bought in Axel—a couple flasks of healing potions, an enchanted set of pillows that stays cool all through the night, dumb bells heavier than they looked, and such like. Magical goods in Axel were just too expensive to get anything with oomph. On the other side of the cage, another gesture summoned a pile of stolen cabbages.

Universe: KonoSuba: God's Blessing on This Wonderful World! Location: City of Axel
Event: Emergency Cabbage Harvest
Loot: Cabbages! (x26), adventurer cards, Evercool Pillow, healing potions (x2), exercise equipment, daily goods, food ingredients, Beast of Caerbannog (Earl Bunny D. Fluffy)​

Dropping into a chair, he fished out the Company scroll, opening it to the inventory screen. A swipe down landed him on an entry he never thought to see again. And with a tap of his finger, there hopefully won't be a third time. The cage stopped moving.

Now that the rabbit was a long ways off and couldn't hurt her, Lisa skipped over to the table, plucking a few cabbage leaves to munch on. She shared them with Escha. "It went a lot better this round, right? Should have been no sweat… Mmmm, this is so gooood!" She held her cheek, humming in enjoyment.

No arguments there. The cabbages counted among the grand prizes they obtained from the trip. His [Sense Rabbit] pinged right up until he sold the bunny, which was proof enough that the adventurer cards were still active on this side of the portal.

That meant they could level up. And what do you know, the cabbages contained a bunch of Experience Points in their leafy deliciousness.

Sure, his Huntsman job didn't wow. For now, that was. Maybe in the future, it will wow. They shall find out.

"Have we had a world this easy?" Lisa continued. "Heck, I still don't feel tired yet. We should go for another one to hit a new record. Two worlds in one day."

Drawn by her energetic mood, he made a show of navigating to the portal app. "Well, since you're so gung-ho for it…"

"Ah no, no, no!" she jokingly cried, leaning around Escha to make half-hearted attempts at snatching away the scroll, with Jaune holding her back with his longer arm.

But then, he happened to catch what was written on the screen.

A portal swirled to life on the wall.

"Jaune! What the fuck?"

Thumb pressed to the screen, he turned to her, "I… Sorry, Lisa, but I had to. This world, it's… it's there."

Lisa grabbed the scroll. This time, he let her; it was no time for jokes. Springing up from his seat, Jaune rushed around the room, tossing supplies into his Pocket. In twenty seconds flat, he was standing in front of the portal.

"Wait. Jaune, wait."

"What's there to wait for? Lisa, we have to go!"

The scene on the other side started to come into focus. Brick walls. Strewn trash. A dark alleyway. The scent of salt in the air.

"Because this can't be right! What's written here, it's already—"

The portal flared to signal that the process had completed.

What lay beyond was a city by the sea. Perhaps it was only appropriate for there to be a light rain.

Hello again, Brockton Bay.

Universe: Worm. Location: Brockton Bay.
Event: ABB Bombings.


-o-​

The girl with silver hair appeared in a place she did not recognize.

"Whoa… Where am I?"

A young man with dark eyes answered her. No one could say since when he was there.

"Welcome to the theater. Are you here for the show?"

"Theater? No, um, I wanted to poke my head through the portal thingy for a second. I-I just thought those three were interesting, I didn't mean to sneak in, ahaha."

The girl scratched her cheek, right above a faint scar.

The young man did not seem put out by the admission.

"My, you would fit right in, then. The world can wait, don't you think? Stay a while, mister…"

"Ahaha… my name is Eris, but I go by Chris in this form… and I'm actually a girl."

---

Author's Notes: I figured, the cat didn't deserve what Jaune got.

Although, the cat still got what Jaune got.

.
An artist on Tumblr made cover art for this story on a whim. Unfortunately, I don't have an account there, so in the hope that they read this, I'll ask here.
Jauneglazer, do you mind if I display your work as the cover for this story?

.
Making edits to this tomorrow. If you spy a typo before then, let me know?

Then gonna go write Yakuza Arc for a bit.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

The moment his boots hit concrete, Jaune was off like a shot. Out of habit, he shut down [Blank] before recalling the warning given way back when, and turned it on again. His steps never slowed.

A flare of light behind him indicated that Tattletale had come through the portal. She was shouting after him about something or other, but that can wait. He needed to see. To know.

The alley grew brighter and brighter as he neared the main street. Memories stirred, details he hadn't even realized stuck with him the first time around—a long vertical crack on the wall, the narrow section of sky that was visible, the scents of a critter (or two, or a dozen) that died and got shoved in a corner. Then he reached the end, where the alley opened up to a wide view of the city, and everything returned in unmistakable clarity.

He had stood in this exact spot before. The skyline, the signs on the buildings, the empty field—the street was familiar to a painful degree.

Well, familiar if it was 99% less wet, but he supposed that counted as an acceptable change. Anyway, this was Brockton Bay, dreary rain and all, no doubt about it.

"I'm back," he declared.

"No, you're not!" came a shout from behind him.

Tattletale skidded to a stop, huffing and puffing from her sprint down the length of the alley. She didn't look happy with him, which was fair. He rather sprung this on her at zero notice.

"Hey, my bad about—"

Her finger was in his face to cut him off.

"I was trying to tell you, but you wouldn't listen!" She stomped her foot in frustration. "The whole thing with the ABB bombing the city happened weeks prior to Leviathan attacking!"

It took him a lot longer than it should to comprehend the meaning of her words. Yes, he had been hopping through different universes, encountering magic and superheroes and whatnot, but time travel had to be a step too far, right? Because it's absurd. The idea that he was now here before he was first here created so many paradoxes that he probably shouldn't even be alive according to some of the sci-fi movies he watched. And… And…

It would mean she wasn't here, and he didn't want that.

"Maybe they're coming back for a second round?" he suggested, though his heart was already sinking.

Tattletale seemed about to berate him more, but hesitated as her eyes searched his face. With [Blank] active, she couldn't use her power on him. She still read him like a book, nevertheless, and when she spoke again, much of the anger in her voice was absent. "You won't find what you're looking for, Jaune."

He did not let slip a sad whine. Lies and slanders.

Retracting her hand, Tattletale ran it through her hair, scowling as she pondered the situation. "There's two possibilities I think are likeliest. One, we're in the past of my universe, which creates so many paradoxes that I probably shouldn't even be alive according to some of the sci-fi movies I watched." Huh. Great minds think alike. "Or, two, this is a parallel universe to my own with a temporal difference. I'm leaning toward the second theory since that fits with what we know of the portal app. Its function is to take us to other places, not as a time machine."

Jaune opened his mouth to raise an objection, any objection, but the words wouldn't come out. No matter how much he wished to call her wrong, there existed an odd incongruity within his surroundings that made sense only in the context of the theories she raised, wild as they were.

See, the city looked in better shape than on his previous visit, yet it also looked old and worn.

Grime encrusted the windows of the building next to him, while the paint on the storefront located one door down peeled in a manner requiring many seasons to effect. Overhead, the street lights flickered yellow, their aging bulbs in need of replacement. Were this a Brockton Bay in the days after Leviathan, with broken windows mended and paint freshly applied over facades damaged by flooding, would these details not appear brand new?

Little by little, he discovered more evidence of his error, until he could no longer believe this to be the world he sought. Enthusiasm drained away to leave hollow disappointment, and Jaune slumped his shoulders.

"Alright, we can go home now," he said, voice flat. "I'll just… curl up in my bed for a few days, if that's fine." Could Escha make bootleg alcohol out of the plants or mushrooms in her garden? He'd ask her. Drowning his sorrows sounded pretty nice at the moment.

Past Tattletale, he spotted said felyne scampering out of the alley. She, perhaps, deserved an apology most of all. He dropped this on her without explaining a single thing about this world and its significance. Yet, here she was, following him to provide support for his endeavors. He appreciated it.

Escha padded over to the party, turning her nose this way and that the entire time, sniffing the air. "This place smells weird," she said.

At a guess, that'd be the scent of a city. The smog of Fire and Combustion Dust burning, or whatever fuel-equivalent people use here to power their houses and cars. It was rather noticeable in the absence of a torrential downpour, and a bit more acrid than one would get with Dust.

"Yeah, it's not great," Jaune said. "Good thing is, you won't have to suffer it for long. I think we're ready to go home." Loot? Who cared about that?

Tattletale skipped back half a step, spreading her arms wide to block the alley in a theatrical display. "Now, hold on, you two. Let's not be hasty. Brockton Bay is full of opportunities for those who know where to look." She pointed at herself. "Which is me, by the way. The girl from the pseudo-future."

Okay, so maybe he did care about loot under his broody moping, because hearing that perked him right up.

"You mean, stuff we can sell? You know where we can find some?"

She listed them on her fingers. "Off the top of my head, my old boss hid caches of gear—including tinkertech rifles—around his territory, and there's a pair of villains we can raid. As for the big prize, during the ABB bombings spree, one tinker manufactured a ton of bombs with exotic effects."

Jaune winced.

Right. There's that, too. Once again, he visited a Brockton Bay embroiled in crisis, and departing meant leaving them to deal with it themselves. "How bad does it get?"

"Bad, bad. Some of the things she made were downright vile to be on the wrong end of. The ABB launched attacks throughout the city targeting major population areas, and people were scared out of their minds never knowing if their neighborhood or their kids' schools would be next."

Escha's eyes grew wide. "W-What?" She searched Tattletale's face for signs of a lie. Finding none, she shivered and peered at their surroundings with newfound trepidation, a lost expression on her face.

Jaune shared a glance with Tattletale, both of them arriving at the same conclusion. The world of Monster Hunter was the last place that'd encounter individuals like this 'tinker,' who from the sound of it seemed a real piece of work. Her methods reminded him of what occurred (was occurring?) at the Vytal festival, where the White Fang/robot assault on the event caused such terror that it attracted Grimm by the thousands to cover the sky. He hesitated to throw himself into that hell again, let alone an unprepared Escha.

So, he pointed to the depths of the alleyway, asking an unspoken question. Ditch?

Tattletale held up one finger. Wait. She turned and knelt down, drawing level with Escha. Reaching out, she started scratching the felyne under her chin to soothe her. "Don't worry, hon. That bi—awful woman won't get as far as she managed back then." She flashed a grin, and not a kind one. It had bite. "She did a real number on me the first time around, and I never quite gave her the payback she deserves for that."

Jaune, standing to the side, hummed in understanding. His partner held a grudge. "We're robbing her blind of her bombs before she can harm people with them. Aren't we?"

Escha nodded rapidly in agreement with that plan, tapping Tattletale on the arm and pointing at Jaune, eager to stop a monster in the making.

"Something like that," Tattletale replied coyly. "I can't promise the mess hasn't already kicked off, but over the course of the week this happened, I entered a few of her workshops. Depending on how early we arrive, they could still be stocked and ripe for the taking."

Jaune said, "I'm not certain that'd be enough. I distinctly remember you describing how tinkers can invent things out of scraps and garbage."

"Oh, don't you worry about that. There are people I can think of who will readily pay a handsome price for the chance to kick Bakuda's teeth in." Tattletale leveled an intense look at him, rooting him in place. "I can't leave here yet, Jaune. In this universe, history will remember Bakuda as a footnote, while we make bank off her back and put an end to her bombing spree."

That nasty glint in her eyes, why did he find it charming?

The heroic undertones, perhaps. She was going to do good, her way.

She missed his glance, too caught up in her musings. "And why stop there? How many people would get a chance like this? The PRT, the E88, Coil… I know so many juicy secrets! Every password yet to be changed, every piece of blackmail still in play, info I had but was too cautious to use—not to mention the biggest news of all." She was on a roll, a dozen plans swirling within that head of hers. "Heheheh, I'm going to turn this little corner of the world upside-down~."

Which, of course, was when the world decided to object.

A hole in space tore open without a sound. It formed the shape of a rectangle, almost like a door, that hung in midair behind the kneeling Tattletale right in her blind spot. A room could be seen on the other side, a darkened office illuminated only by the glow of a computer screen.

A woman stood in front of the—and it can't be anything else—portal, dressed in a black suit and black tie; on her head rested a fedora. Wordlessly, she reached out with a gloved hand, fingers brushing the fabric of the camouflage cloak Tattletale wore in so delicate a motion that it passed beneath the girl's notice. The hand began to close in a grip.

Off to the side, Jaune looked from the woman who hadn't even bothered to glance his way, to the arm that was extending past him, to Tattletale. Then, he smacked the arm harshly to put a stop to that nonsense.

You would have thought he shot the woman with how she reared back, her startled cry alerting Tattletale. The girl whirled around just in time to see the woman hitting the edge of an office desk and flipping over it, landing on the floor out of sight with a crash. The portal shut down.

"Who the heck was that!?" Tattletale yelped. She then proceeded to answer her own question, mind racing a mile a minute. "Abductor, about to grab me. No mask, no motif, powers don't belong to any of the Brockton Bay gangs—an outside party. Hired by Coil? Did she mistake me for my local counterpart—"

Jaune grabbed Tattletale mid-sentence, yanking her behind him as he kicked the spot she used to occupy, his heel meeting a grasping hand. A sharp crack, and he watched the woman in the fedora escape back into the new portal, cradling her arm with an expression of pain that didn't quite match her body language, far too muted for the utter panic conveyed by her scrambling to get away.

Peace and quiet returned to the deserted street, barring Tattletale babbling a string of conjectures—interspersed with swears—as she gripped onto the back of his poncho. On his part, Jaune kept his head on a swivel, not letting his guard down. He summoned Crocea Mors, wielded in one hand while leaving the other free in case he needed to move Tattletale again. Below, Escha darted back and forth, ready to pounce the moment she saw the enemy.

"Not Coil, not PRT, not Yangban, not—"

"Not important! Tattletale, stay alert!"

"I am!" she protested.

The woman appearing from the portal behind her begged to differ. Set half a block of distance back, she made no attempt to capture Tattletale this time. In her hand, a nondescript gun.

She pulled the trigger—the round slammed into Jaune who had put himself in the path of the bullet.

The woman's eyes widened a fraction, and she fired off more rounds as Jaune activated rockets to boost his sprint across the ground. The barrage was erratic at first, the bullets following a haphazard pattern that missed as much as they hit, which seemed to surprise the woman more than anyone else. But then, something shifted, and the shots began to strike him dead center.

Her eyes… they weren't looking directly at him, instead tracing the line the bullets traveled through.

As he got close, he heard her mutter under her breath.

A portal materialized between them and sheer heat roiled from the other side, forcing Jaune to slam his heels against the ground, screeching to a halt at the edge of the boundary. Ahead, all he saw was red. The woman had connected to a volcano.

"Oh come on, lady. How is that fair!?"

He didn't get an answer. The portal collapsed to show nobody there. Jaune spun around to see another portal near where Tattletale stood, out of which the woman strode.

Almost absentmindedly, she scooped her hand under a leaping Escha, pivoting to toss the yowling felyne aside before continuing to advance on Tattletale. She neatly dodged the sleep dart the girl fired from her wristbow.

Tattletale didn't bother with reloading, instead adopting a fighting stance. Her training spanned a few weeks, but that was long enough for Jaune to drill into her the basics. She snapped out a punch—thumb outside the fist! So proud!—aimed at the woman's face.

Her technique needed work still. It didn't matter much. As he taught her, Aura would both protect her hand from harm and enhance the blow to shatter teeth.

If it landed. Somehow, the woman was never there, slipping through the punches and kicks with uncanny ease until she stood almost flush against Tattletale, gun jammed under her ribs.

The gun barked, and Tattletale fell with a cry.

For a moment, the woman in the fedora made to leave. She then performed a sort of full body stutter, blinking in befuddlement. Her gaze lowered to Tattletale, alive and encased in an apple-green glow.

Enduring the pain, the girl stuck out her tongue.

That struck a nerve. The woman furrowed her brow, on the surface appearing mildly annoyed, which for her might translate to utter exasperation. Her gun rose again.

A shadowy hand closed on the gun, pulling it from her grip. Turning, she gasped in surprise. Reflected in her eyes, a blade growing ever larger to fill her vision.

A portal opened, granting access to a windowless, pitch-dark room different from the previous office, and the woman threw herself into it, clothes blending in with the shadows to obscure her from his sight. Undeterred, Jaune shoved his sword through in pursuit. He felt the slightest of resistance, a shink as steel pierced flesh, and hastily withdrew Crocea Mors as the portal shut down.

In the ensuing quiet, he studied the blood coating the tip of the sword for a bit, then shook his head. "Damn. I don't think I managed to get her for good. Sorry, Tattletale, she might only be half dead."

"That's…That's fine," came Tattletale's blithe reply from below, hiding fairly well her frayed nerves. "Not killing people is good."

The poor dear must be in shock. Jaune sighed in sympathy.

"Anyway, don't worry, Jaune. I doubt she'll be a problem for much longer."

The complete certainty in her voice prompted him to ask, "How do you know?"

"Because I figured it out!" she declared, sitting bolt upright. Escha was there a moment later, fussing over her. "The reason she was after me. How she anticipated me and Escha, but not you. She's a precog. A Thinker."

"Like you?"

Escha tugged on his pant leg, calling for a healing potion despite Tattletale suffering no actual injury. He passed her one, seeing no harm in doing so, and the cat proceeded to demand Tattletale drink it.

Between sips, the girl explained, "Precogs belong to a different classification, such that there are. They… in basic terms, they simulate the future. Think, Jaune. What was I doing just before that woman appeared?"

He opened his mouth to reply. She talked right over him, never expecting a response to the rhetorical question.

"I was planning to change events, and that must have set her off!" She slapped the ground. "She probably doesn't want us to stop Bakuda. That, or screw over Coil's operations. Or humiliate the PRT—"

"Didn't you say that's the hero organization?"

"Irrelevant." He very much wanted to disagree, but she had already moved on. "Whatever the case, she'll keep getting in our way, unless we have a counter for her power. Which we do."

He mulled on it. "If she's a Thinker, [Blank] should work?"

"Exactly. Gimme the phone."

He rummaged through his pocket, and passed the scroll to her. "Can you even buy a copy for yourself?"

"No."

He waited, then said, "Come on, you'll have to give me a little more than that."

"I'm taking a workaround." She fell quiet, focused on navigating through the scroll. The Marketplace app opened, and she began typing.

Messing up, she cursed and tried again.

She typed.

She cursed.

She typed.

She cursed.

She typed.

"This stupid search bar! What idiot designed this!?"

It took her a while longer to sift through the nigh-infinite catalog of goods, with Tattletale looking about ready to throw the scroll by the end, but she found the entry she wanted.

"Talent sharing?" Jaune asked, peering over her shoulder at the screen.

"It's a repeatable purchase, and each time you buy it, you can copy one of your store-purchased powers over to your, ah, your allies."

Jaune gawked. "What the—that sounds perfect, Tattletale! Quick, grab it before she comes back." He watched as she tapped a button, then selected [Blank] on the next screen. The confirmation box popped up along with the cost. A glance, and he pulled a face. "Erk!"

"Yeeeah, you kinda see why I haven't bothered with it. The efficiency isn't great."

A bit of an understatement, that. The price was four times the cost of the original power—a flat multiplier, as he understood it. On this occasion, it totaled 1600 Points.

Then again, it sounded extortionate (and was) but if he had two additional members to their party, he would break even. From there, it became more efficient as the number increased. Talent Sharing benefited large teams—encouraged it, in fact. Food for thought.

In this particular case, needs must when the crazy portal lady tries to ambush you.

"Buy it," he said, and Tattletale wasted no time in confirming the purchase. A soft ding emanated from the scroll. Beyond that, there was no indication of anything happening.

Yet, he knew it had worked, because Tattletale was showing a downright vindictive smile.

"I really hope she's thinking about me right now~."

And she activated her second superpower, as high as it could go.

-o-​

Half an hour and a newspaper later, the party of three strolled along a street lined by dilapidated shop after dilapidated shop. With bars on windows and doors shut tight, the mood was far from welcoming, and only the occasional noise behind thick curtains indicated whether a store was still doing business this time of night.

Not that Jaune expected them to receive many, or any, customers. The street was devoid of people.

"Is the villain meeting we're looking for really on this road?" he asked, fiddling with a simple domino mask that they picked up from the same convenience store souvenir corner he bought his Poncho.

Stole. Whatever. He repaid it a few times over tonight with a gold coin left on the counter. Somewhere out there, a convenience store owner can sleep well knowing his wares just made his parallel universe self a lot of money.

By his side, Tattletale nodded. "You wouldn't think it, huh? Consider the street we're on to be natural camouflage. The heroes and cops hardly ever patrol this part of town, which makes the location ideal for the villains to have their big moot. Everybody gets to dress up in their Sunday best and strut their stuff without people giving them side-eyes."

…Were they attending a beauty contest?

You know, that wasn't too far off, the more he thought about it. The meeting had rules for what one could wear and not wear that appeared to depend entirely on aesthetics. Tattletale stated with confidence that Crocea Mors was allowed because it looked like a pretty prop, Meanwhile, his big, long gunlance was a no-go due to it being too intimidating, nevermind that the people in the room possessed superpowers to make them twice as dangerous as any weapon he deigned to carry. Themes were important, so he had a white mask to go with the ambulance motif of his poncho—he drew the line at Tattletale's suggestion of spray painting his sword and shield to match. The masks themselves constituted a form of good manners, meaning Escha wore one of her own, sized for children.

Or maybe that last one was just Tattletale playing a prank. He couldn't tell from the sweet, innocent smile she kept giving him whenever he asked.

Anywho, the whole purpose of looking good for the crowd seemed to revolve around maintaining or increasing a faction's reputation. In short, the supervillains had an informal scoring system that they unironically participated in, which was doing no favors to the beauty contest analogy.

All in all, the life of a supervillain was a strange phenomenon, crossing crimes with theatrics.

His musings ground to a halt as Tattletale held out a hand, indicating that they've arrived at their destination. Before them stood a hovel that could be called a building if one were feeling generous. A sign over the doors proclaimed the name of the establishment, Somer's Rock. What business or clientele it catered to, the store gave not a hint, and without forewarning he would have never pegged it for a bar.

"Welcome to Somer's Rock," Tattletale declared grandly. "Seedy pub by day, seedy villain cape meetup spot by night. Sometimes."

"It looks ready to collapse," he remarked.

Tattletale waggled her hand, "Ehhh, fifty-fifty shot in the next year. Termites got into the supports. And on that happy note, let's head inside."

How about no, he wanted to say. Structural integrity aside, a den of dastardly villains awaited within, dozens against their three. Not just petty thieves like Tattletale, either, but the whole gamut of drug lords and mass murderers and worse, all empowered with various abilities. Including slavers.

What would they do after seeing his pretty face?

Tattletale had been adamant, however, ever since she checked the date printed on the newspaper. In her original timeline, the villains of Brockton Bay brokered a truce here, and marched in force the next day to comb the city for Bakuda, because even hardened criminals could not abide the bomber's reign of destruction. It would be war in the street, and chaos in the neighborhoods that their party intended to visit.

They could either become known entities, or get attacked once someone caught them skulking around. And no better place and time existed to announce themselves than Somer's Rock tonight.

He suggested burning down the bar. Tattletale said no.

As he pushed open the doors, every head turned his way, and Jaune got his first look at the colorful cast of villains calling this city home. There were a good two dozen or so of them scattered among the tables and booths of the run-down pub, orienting on one large table where a discussion seemed to be ongoing, at least before the interruption. Under the dim lights, he must admit that they did their profession proud. Wolf masks and skull helmets, metal armor and monstrous shapes, the occupants of the room exuded a menacing air, coiled like springs from the moment he took a step inside. He recognized the signs—the flexing of hands, the shifting of body balance—for the prelude to violence they were. The villains had been unprepared for his entrance, and they enjoyed it not one bit.

Before anyone could speak, Tattletale strutted into the room, causing the villains to all perform a double-take. Multiple cricks could be heard as people snapped their heads around toward one of the booths set along the wall. There, an identical girl in purple sat with mouth agape.

Tattletale waved to Tattletale. Tattletale stared at Tattletale. In the midst of this surreal scene, a fluffy white cat walking on two legs almost went beneath notice.

Almost, but not quite.

"Ohmigosh, she's wearing a little mask…" a soft voice murmured in awe, audible only due to the near total silence that had overtaken the pub.

Upon hearing that voice, Jaune lost his breath. He recognized it. Recognized her.

Her. Her. Her.

She sat in a booth clear on the opposite side of the room to where everybody was looking, partly blocked from view by a strange gorilla creature in a vest squatting on the floor. The flickering overhead bulbs cast the costume she wore in a much darker shade, the red nearly black.

She was unmistakable.

Jaune bounded across the room in three strides, the steps more akin to leaps as rockets propelled him faster and further than a normal man can hope to imitate. In his wake, noise broke out at the tables he passed by, people rising from their seats. Questions flew after him, demanding to know who he was and what he was doing. As he landed before the booth, the gorilla-thing slapped its long claws over his chest in warning.

It didn't matter. None of them, or any of the other villains, mattered, because she was here in front of him. His friend. The girl he made a promise to. Her.

He reached across the table, taking her hands in his. Completely over the moon, a grin stretched wide on his face, he shouted her name.

"Sundancer!"

…

…

"...Who are you?"

A daze struck him and the world fell away beneath his feet, Jaune stumbling. Unable to come up with a response, he just stared at Sundancer, his jaw flapping open and shut.

Somewhere within the fog of his mind, a little voice of reason whispered a reminder. He stood in a different Worm universe, remember? There were two Tattletales present in the same place, remember? Jaune slowly flushed as he realized that, oh, this Sundancer wasn't his Sundancer.

They were so alike, it hurts. The delicate curve of her face, the slight tilt as she peered up at the taller him, each small detail painted a memory. Who could blame him for the teardrops pooling at the corner of his eyes.

Sundancer looked down to their joined hands, then up at him again. "Um…"

Right about that point, it registered to him just how long he had been standing there, gazing moonstruck at her. Hastily, he released her hands and backed up from the table.

Coughing into a fist, he said, "Sorry, wrong person."

"Bullshit!" accused a villain in a top hat seated at the central table. He had twisted in his chair, one elbow on the backrest, to scowl at Jaune. "You shouted her name to the whole room! What, is there another Sundancer running around town we don't know about?" An odd moment passed where his eyes—widening with terror—flickered to Sundancer, the girl furiously shaking her head in reply. That calmed him some, and he said to Jaune, "I don't remember ever seeing you before. How do you know her?"

Jaune spouted the first excuse that came to him, "It's a common name where I came from!" Then, because every good excuse was improved by connecting it to a string of excuses, he continued, "Coincidences happen! And maybe there is another one of her—look at them!" He gestured at the Tattletales. "What is this, an interrogation?"

Yeees. Turn it back on the questioner. That always worked.

The top-hatted villain tilted his head, sneering. "Might be. You did barge into a rather important meeting without announcing yourself." He swept a hand to indicate the other people at the table, who did not seem to appreciate how thoroughly Jaune had destroyed the serious atmosphere they had going. "Read the mood, friendo."

A very good point, and Jaune raised his hands in a placating motion.

"Okay, look, I'll get to that, and what I have to say will be worth it, I promise. Just…give me a second?" he said, before turning back to Sundancer.

In truth, he had no idea of where to go from here, or how to salvage the situation. This was Sundancer, but not Sundancer, and now she's staring at him like he had three heads. Should he say something? Maybe he could explain?

Grasping at straws, he ended up with: "So, hey, are you doing anything later?"

"Aaalright, casanova." Tattletale appeared at his side, snagging his arm. "Let me stop you right there."

"But—"

She shushed him. "Entertaining as this is, it's not what we're here for. Come along."

She tugged him away from the booth with an insistent grip, and after a moment of hesitation, Jaune relented, somewhat grateful for the chance to exit the hole he had dug for himself.

Of course, that didn't prevent him from throwing glances over his shoulder the whole way. It took Sundancer's teammates little time since his departure to pounce on her, pelting a barrage of questions. His heart melted seeing her fidgeting under the attention.

The gorilla, surprisingly, had quite a feminine voice.

"Mar-Sundancer! Who is this guy? Did you…"

"I-I don't…"

The rest of the conversation faded into the general din of the room. Tattletale had wanted to make an entrance, and he supposed they did. Whispers flung back and forth between the various groups, with hurried offers being made for information that nobody there truly had. The people at the central table feigned a stoic demeanor, except not even they were immune to the sudden development, doing their subtle best to communicate with allies. Everything took a decided frantic pace as Tattletale led Jaune and Escha to said table, which was apparently a big deal in the view of the villains in attendance.

Not one person stopped them. Not yet. The general consensus, as Jaune gauged it, was to wait for another group to put their necks out and test the waters. Because if their party thought they deserved a seat at the table, then that could very well mean they knew something others did not. The villains had a reputation to uphold; they weren't willing to look like fools.

The peace shattered once Jaune pulled out chairs near the top-hatted villain to sit down.

"Oh, so now you're all fine and dandy with handing out the fucking seats?" snarled a man at a booth. He had stood up, fists clenched and glaring, flanked by two others. As a group, the three villains shared the themes of bad teeth and stained costumes. "Why do those nobodies get the invite when I didn't, huh? They sure as shit don't hold any territory."

"Skidmark and his Merchants, a small-time gang," Tattletale murmured in his ear. "Drug peddlers with superpowers."

That's the guy? 'Strips of momentum that can stack until they toss a person to the horizon' Skidmark? Wooow.

Accelerator might just kill this guy for giving vector-control abilities a bad reputation.

"What do we do?" he asked, palm resting on the hilt of his sword. Hint, hint.

"Easy there. I got this." She raised her voice. "I guess if my friends and I are not welcome, then we can walk out the door with all the information we have on Bakuda."

And sure enough, with the magic word spoken, somebody else cut in almost at once.

"There we go, Skidmark. Do you have anything of value to bring forward? Hm? And at least they would not stain the seats after sitting in them. Skid. Mark." The villain at the head of the table, fully armored and donning a crown of blades, stressed the other man's name with distaste, drawing chuckles throughout the room. The mockery held an edge that the Merchants heard loud and clear. Muttering curses, they affected disinterest to save face, sliding back into their booth.

Meanwhile, Jaune was thinking hard. Something was familiar about the crowned villain and the way only half of him was visible above the table's edge, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"That there is Kaiser. He's—" Tattletale cut off her words as the now-named Kaiser turned to them. The man swept a hand at two chairs that were closer to his end of the table.

"We've already started, but you are welcome to join us," he said in a rather polite, charming voice. "I expect your presence shall be… enlightening."

Before Jaune could respond, Tattletale answered, "Thanks ever so much!" And she took the seat she was already at, far away from Kaiser. Jaune glanced at her, receiving a subtle side-eye.

Got it. Not a nice guy.

Casually, he placed a palm on the hilt of his sword. Hint, hint.

The side-eye became a pointed glare until he retracted his hand.

A semblance of normality reasserted upon Somer's Rock as Jaune sat down, insofar that a group which included a gorilla in a vest, a neon orange man, a snake-themed man talking to thin air, and a human lightbulb could be normal.

Then Escha, after pondering between her choices, jumped onto Tattletale's lap where she could bask in scritches. Activity ground to halt again as the villains were reminded of their third member.

Kaiser stared for a bit, before clearing his throat.

"Is that a cat?"

"She's a Case 53," Tattletale gave their prepared answer.

According to her, a Case 53 was the designation that tended to be used for 'monstrous' capes. The gorilla thing over by Sundancer might count as one, and compared to that person, Jaune somewhat saw Tattletale's point about how a cat would be downright mundane.

To emphasize further, she pointed at Escha's face. "See? Mask."

"...Of course," said Kaiser, sounding like he still had many questions.

A waitress emerged from behind the bar, where a pair of men—twins—were working, coming around the table to place a notepad and pen in front of their party. Tattletale quickly wrote down an order for her (tea, black) and for Escha (milk), then passed the pen to him. He followed her lead, writing down 'beer.'

Throughout the process, the villains observed the three of them, scrutinizing each loop and stroke of the pen they made. The following minute waiting for their drinks was likewise an uncomfortable, awkward, and just plain weird experience Jaune never wish to relive. Soon, though, he had his beer, which he sipped from while wondering if someone would comment on the snake-themed villain to his left who continued to insist on doing his own thing.

But then, that was one among the many elephants in the room.

The woman in a welder's mask sitting opposite Tattletale stared at the cat in her lap. Next to the woman, a man in biker leather and a skull-painted motorcycle helmet was alternating his gaze between the snake-themed man, Tattletale, and Tattletale. The Tattletale by the booth was still focused on the Tattletale over here, except now she seemed to be suffering a splitting headache—and oh wow was that Skitter next to her? The one in the top hat won't stop giving Jaune looks of suspicion, with glances over to the Tattletales. Kaiser sat in silence with finger steepled; the people at his back emoted enough for his share, most of them also looking at Tattletale.

Hmmm. Call him crazy, but someone in this entire mess stood out from the rest.

And she reveled in it.

"Turn that frown upside-down, Kaiser. You really need to learn how to roll with things. As for you, Faultline, I'll thank you to cease your fascination with my kitty."

That was directed toward the woman in the welder's mask, who snapped her head up. Tattletale made eye contact, and grinned before moving on.

"Nice evening, isn't it, Trickster? Hope the Travelers had a smooth trip in from Boston."

The top-hatted villain parsed her words, searching for a trick. Finding none only worsen his worry.

"Coil… Bahahahahaha!"

The snake-themed villain gave no reply. Or rather, no reply to anybody present.

"...I suggest we establish a truce. Not just everyone here, but between ourselves and the law…"

Tattletale nudged Jaune. "Give him a poke for me?"

Jaune obliged her, tapping Coil on the arm, and when nothing happened he changed it to a light shove.

That woke him. With a yelp, Coil jerked in his seat so hard that the chair tipped onto the two rear legs, the villain windmilling his arm to keep balance until Jaune caught the chair and helped to plant it firmly back on the floor.

The mask Coil wore had no eye-holes, yet Jaune did not miss the dumbfounded stare leveled at him. Frantically scanning his surroundings as if he had never been in a pub before, the villain's gaze ended at the snickering girl next to Jaune, whose laughter was mirrored by her local counterpart over in the booth, the two sharing the same pitch and cadence in uncanny synchronicity.

"Tattletale," Coil growled.

"Coil," Tattletale growled back playfully, throwing the man off. "Man, what a time to experience a Thinker misfire. Can you quit it? We're busy people and can't waste our night waiting for you."

"I—" He noticed the level of attention on him, how the many villains were unamused by his episode, and he shifted his posture to present a calmer image. It didn't save his waning credibility. "Excuse my lapse, everyone. It has been a trying day, as we all know."

Tattletale nodded in false sympathy. "Then it's a good thing for you that I'm here to hand Bakuda over on a silver platter." The atmosphere of the pub sharpened. At last, they were cutting to the quick of the matter. "Buuut that's no reason to be impolite." Ignoring the sudden hostility directed at her, Tattletale turned to the last person at the table. "Hi, Grue!"

"Tattletale, what the fuck!?" Grue, in the skull helmet, blurted out, composure cracking under the one-two(-three-four-five-six) combo of surprises rearing their heads one after the other. "What did you— How are you—" He waved his arms wildly, trying to convey a dozen questions through body language since words have failed him.

Poor guy would never survive the multiverse.

Tattletale jerked a thumb over her shoulder at her twin. "Oh, you mean her? Yeah, I can't believe you didn't realize it, Grue. Aren't we teammates? She's a clone or something."

"The hell!?" the local Tattletale squawked. She whirled on the person next to her. "No, Skitter, don't just believe her!"

"Shouldn't she?" Tattletale asked, turning around in her seat. "If you were the original, you would have had Thinker powers, meaning you would have said I was the clone instead of sitting there twiddling your thumbs." Tattletale waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever. Quiet in the peanut gallery, please. If you're not at the table, clearly you're not important."

Local Tattletale launched out of the booth, but found herself held around the waist by Skitter, who had latched on to keep her from charging at her twin. The two struggled back and forth, egged on by a boy in a ruffled shirt sitting with them.

Jaune took a long draught of his beer.

Ahhhh. Nice and cold.

Should he be reining in Tattletale right now? Probably.

…He drank his beer.

In his defense, she seemed to be done, anyway, and he trusted her to have a handle on matters. Super-intuition meant she could read the mood of those around them, and knew how far to push the joke without turning the room on their party. At the moment, they held the card of 'information on Bakuda.' It's valuable, thus allowing some leeway, but they were approaching the time to get serious.

Drinking her tea, Tattletale studied her fellow villains with more care. "Huh. Some are missing. That's different," she idly murmured. Nobody understood what she was on about except for Jaune and (maybe) Escha. People present at the meeting in her timeline were absent today.

"Who is?" he asked.

"You wouldn't know them. Some affiliated, some independents. Sucks for Rune, she missed out. You're, like, her dreamboat."

"Because I'm pretty?"

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, that. Plus the little nazi bought into the hype hard, and you're the blondest blond that ever blonded."

Chair legs scraped on the wooden floor as Jaune leaned over to look Tattletale in the eye. "Wait, wait, back up a bit. The nazis are here?" He caught the glances around the room and where they were directed. He jabbed a finger at one end of the table, at Kaiser. "That's these guys? They're nazis? Why are we working with them?"

There was an intake of breath, and Tattletale hurried to speak. Kaiser got there first.

"Is there a problem?" he asked. His voice sounded charming, but Jaune was no longer fooled. The man, and the people behind him, could only be the E88.

"Uh, duh. You're literally demon worshipers!"

Confused faces all around, at least those that could be seen. Jaune didn't understand why. What he said wasn't crazy! An arcade machine in Japan told him so!

Over in her booth, Skitter was heard muttering, "I don't think you know what 'literally' means..."

A gradual silence overtook the pub, tense and ready to snap. People looked at each other, watching for who might chime in. Kaiser's capes were all glaring at Jaune. Tattletale had her face in her hands.

Then, just as the tension began to ebb, Grue couldn't resist the urge to say, "But is he that far off the mark, though?"

A woman glowing pure white scoffed. Kaiser, meanwhile, chuckled as if he heard a great joke.

"I know not what rumors are flying about, but I assure you that you have an entirely wrong impression of us."

Trickster joined in on the conversation. "I dunno. Killing millions does kinda give that blood ritual feel." He mock-shivered, flashing a smirk as the boy in the ruffled shirt piled on.

"Although I think if they were trying to call up Cthulhu or something, then you can still claim they had a purpose. Instead of, well, that."

An E88 cape wearing a gas mask pushed forward. He slammed a fist on the table. "Do not dare to impugn the actions taken by the fatherland. Historically, the troubles of Germany draws a direct line—"

"To them getting whooped the first time around! Then the Nazis came around for seconds—"

"Fighting for the people oppressed between the heavy hand of the foreigners and the hidden hand of the Jews! We had no—"

"What's this 'we' business? Most of you are Americans—"

"The Aryan cause transcends borders—"

"What, you're saying it immigrated over here? Listen to yourself—"

From there, the argument exploded, growing faster than a wildfire to embroil everybody with an opinion. The E88 were shouting, Skitter was shouting, The Travelers were shouting. It reached a volume where people couldn't even hear themselves speak, and were more so adding their voices to a preferred side so that it can drown out the other.

Strangely enough, Kaiser attempted to steer things back on track for a while before becoming a part of the screaming match, at which point a switch flipped and the man went all in, threatening to take his capes and leaving if anyone dared to raise another objection. That didn't go over well, fanning the flames further since everyone else took the declaration as an attempt to assert dominance, and reacted with ultimatums of their own.

Sitting in the middle of the mess he instigated, Jaune scratched his cheek.

"Oops?"

On one side, Tattletale patted him on the shoulder. "All according to plan."

Jaune could not help but notice the stiffness to her grin.

On his other side, Tattletale sneered. "That's a lie! I can tell you're panicking that the E88 are bailing on us!"

"Oh? You sure sound confident for someone without powers, faker."

"You are literally copying me I know what my face looks like!"

An utterly forgotten Jaune sipped at his beer as the two identical girls spat insults at each other.

His eyes panned over the various ongoings of the pub, catching Sundancer's gaze by chance. She had been sneaking glances at him.

He gave an uncertain wave of his hand.

Sundancer looked away.

---

Author's notes: Sundanceeeer!
.

Who's that lady in the fedora?
Probably nobody important.
.

Villains—We're here to put aside our differences and work together, no distractions.
Jaune—*drops political topic on the table*