Author's Note:

Yup, I totally suck. Instead of working on "Doctor HoO?" like I was supposed to, I got side-tracked with this project. I am really excited to share this ultimate mash-up of what is probably an insane amount of fandoms with you, so here we go! First, though, SPOILER WARNING:

Harry Potter (the book/movie series) – Set during summer after events of book 3, so possible spoilers up to that point.

Artemis Fowl (the book series) – Set after The Atlantis Complex, with Artemis relatively cured of his condition.

Sherlock (the BBC T.V. series) – Not any real spoilers for the show, just wanted to let you all know what adaptation of him this will include.

Yuri! on ICE (the anime) – Set after season 1 (I am hoping that one day, someone will read this and think to themselves, "Oh, maybe season 2 hadn't come out yet". C'mon, Kubo, please make it happen!).

Attack on Titan (the anime) – Set after episode 16.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (could it be…another anime?) – Set after episode 8.

Welcome to Nightvale (the podcast) – Set after episode 27, "First Date".

Aaaand Hetalia (big shocker, it's an anime) – Set anywhere in it, really, although this may contain slight spoilers for episode 4 of the World Series (the episode that is about Lithuania and Poland).

I probably included too many fandoms for anyone with any sanity to read this, but if you are reading this, thanks so much and congratulations on your lack of sanity! Enjoy!

P.S. Any asterisks in this or future chapters indicate a situation that may be confusing for some, so it is explained in the bottom Author's Note. ?

Viktor Nikiforov knew the feeling of the ice by heart. The rush of his skates over the smooth, cold surface was like nothing else in this world. So, when – in the middle of practicing quadruple flips in Ice Castle – he suddenly found himself lying on his back on a soft, warm surface, he knew something was off. This feeling only increased when he sat up to find himself in a blindingly white room, with blank walls, ceilings, and floors that seemed to blend into each other, becoming an indistinguishable mass of solid, uniform whiteness. The only blotches of color were three other people lying scattered around the room. They all looked about as familiar to Viktor as the scenery around him (or lack thereof). All except a black-haired male stumbling into a standing position a few feet away – Viktor assumed at first it was Yuri Katsuki, until the apparent teen turned around and revealed the abundant freckles dotting his face. Definitely not Yuri, then, Viktor thought, disappointed.

Other than Viktor and Not-Yuri, there was also a blond wearing a vibrantly pink dress and a white-haired male with strange purple tattoos covering almost all of his exposed body. Plus, he had a purple third eye, which Viktor was pretty sure blinked at least once while he was staring at it. Probably just my imagination playing tricks on me, Viktor told himself a tad uncertainly.

"Where am I?" the freckled black-haired teenager asked, his voice quavering with thinly-veiled fear.

"I'm not sure," Viktor answered the boy, accompanying his reply with a shrug. For some reason, this simple statement caused the pink-dressed blond to whip his head around so fast, Viktor was afraid he might have gotten whiplash.*

"H-How did y-you g-get here?!" the blond stammered in shock, causing Viktor to tilt his head, confused. This action only seemed to further distress the already-flustered blond, who began rapidly scooching away from Viktor. Huh. Viktor didn't recognize him, but maybe he had met him in a competition before…?

"How do any of us really get anywhere?" the white-haired man spoke, his voice rich and reminiscent of one you might hear a radio host use.

"U-Um, has anyone seen a giant wall? It's really big and very hard to miss," the freckled boy interjected, gesturing around at the surrounding walls.

"Psssh, you're funny," the tattooed man giggled in a high-pitched tone, "Walls don't exist."

"No, believe me, they do," the blond spoke up now, seeming to have forgotten his earlier panic in favor of straight-up ignoring Viktor by turning his back to him and not glancing his way at all.

"They don't," Tattoo (as Viktor had nicknamed the tattooed man) rolled his eyes.

"They do," Freckles said cautiously.

"Last I checked, they do," Viktor added his own two-pence to the conversation.

"Heretics," Tattoo shook his head almost sadly, sighing.

Silence stretched over the four of them, awkward and more like a horribly rough drape from an ancient house than a sheet of pleasantly soft silk.

Finally, Viktor decided to break this uncomfortable silence, "I'm Viktor Nikiforov, by the way. It's a pleasure to be making your acquaintances."

"Marco Bodt, nice to meet you," Freckles introduced himself.

"Cecil Palmer, the pleasure's all mine!" Tattoo replied.

Blondie rolled his eyes and stayed silent for a few moments of intense staring from the other three, until he finally relented and said simply, "Feliks."

"Just Feliks?" Viktor inquired curiously.

"Like, yeah," 'Feliks' nodded.

Silence fell over the four again until it was again interrupted by a voice. However, this one didn't come from any of the people present.

"Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3!" a female voice cried over seemingly invisible speakers, "Heeello, test subjects~! It is wonderful to have you all here today, we are going to have so much fun!"

"Well, we will," a second voice – this time male – added, "You all probably won't."

"Sherlock, don't be such a spoil sport," the female huffed, "Anywho, who's ready for some experimentssss?!"

"Hange, calm down- no, wait- don't-!" a crash and a bang followed, and then silence. Finally, Sherlock's voice returned, "Sorry about that, everyone, Hange was trying to turn on the disco balls, but mistakenly almost launched Russia's nukes. Most likely this is a result of her brain size, which I can honestly say is smaller than a dog's, amazingly."

"Hey! That's mean!" Hange cried, but Sherlock seemed to ignore her.

"Anyway, I'm going to take this opportunity to tell you all a bit about what you have been forcibly brought here to do. This is an experiment on personality traits and how they influence success and teamwork. I typically find these types of experiments repugnant; not for moral reasons, of course, but because humans are so very predictable. However, some of you are not entirely or at all human, so that should at least make this relatively interesting. So, don't disappoint me those of you. You know who you are. Moving on, don't bother trying to figure out where you are or how to escape. This station is completely locked off from the outside world, plus all of you are from alternate dimensions, so it would be entirely impossible to get back anyway. If you survive this, however, you will be returned safely to your rightful homes. Clear?"

"What does he mean 'alternate dimensions'? What's a 'dimension'?" Marco wondered.

"Alternate dimensions are places where people don't live in suffering and pain," Cecil explained to the astonishment and horror of Viktor, Feliks, and Marco.

Before anyone could say anything to correct him, though, Sherlock continued, "Good. All right, this is how it will go-"

"Aww, can't I explain, Sherlock?" Hange's voice interrupted, the pout audible in her tone.

"…Can I say no?"

"Nope!"

"Fine."

"Great!" Hange exclaimed excitedly, "So, test subjects, here's how it goes! There are 6 teams of 4 people who all have certain personality similarities. These 6 teams will compete against each other in what I like to call The Challenges. There are 3 challenges, and the ranking will be based off of how fast your team can complete the challenge. First place is the first to complete the challenge out of the six teams, second is second, and so on and so forth. Each place has a certain amount of points attributed to it, going from 1st place to 6th in descending order. So, 1st place gives you 6 points, 2nd is 5 points, and you probably catch my drift from there on. Then, the scores will be tallied, and the 1st place winner will be announced. That winner gets to pick 2 teams to save from certain doom, and the other 3 are killed. Sounds like fun, right?!"

"For all you ignorant, moral people out there, wondering if you can just not compete to avoid killing anyone – that's not an option. You and your entire team will be murdered if you don't compete," Sherlock added coolly, "And please don't try to throw the competition, because, well, you and your entire team will die, not to mention that would screw up the results. And anyway, don't you want to see your loved ones alive? Because I can guarantee each and every one of you have at least one loved one here today who might die without your aid, so you better save them by winning and rescuing their team. Or, for those who don't believe in love, friends, or family, win because that makes you a better person…somehow."

- Team #1, who are they? -

"What the actual heck, Hange?! Is this some kind of sick joke!?" Levi Ackerman shouted at the blank, unrelenting ceiling. It, of course, did not respond.

After everything they had been through, now she was trying to kill him? Tch, what a great friend.

"Calm down, shouting isn't going to help anything," the only person in this room that Levi actually had any respect for sighed, rubbing her temples. Holly Short was a soldier very similar to himself – so far as Levi had seen in the five minutes they had gotten to know each other.

"Yes, but it can help relieve stress," Plisetsky commented, his strange accent making that one sentence almost impossible to understand for Levi.

"Can we all focus on the situation at hand? That Sherlock guy just told us we have to cause the deaths of people! I am not doing that, consequences be damned!" Elric fumed.

"Well, do you want us all to die then?" Plisetsky snapped, "I don't like it either, but it's not like we have much of a choice!"

"Killing other people, whether they're human or not, is NOT okay!" Elric retorted, standing his ground.

"We're not the ones killing anyone! And I, for one, am wanting to not be one of the ones dying!" Plisetsky took a menacing step forward.

"All right, all right, break it up," Holly stepped between the two, holding each at arm's length, "Now, look, I don't like the idea of killing anyone either, but it doesn't seem like we have much of a choice. Let's just play this out and try to save as many people as possible, okay?"

Both boys grumbled in response, backing away from each other but continuing to glare.

"Team #1, may I just say, your in-fighting is very interesting to watch. I feel like I should get popcorn," Sherlock's voice teased, "I didn't know an ice skater and an alchemist could be so fiery."

"He can see us?! Come down here and fight me yourself, coward!" Elric yelled at the ceiling.

"Ooh, this one's got some fire!" Hange chirped.

"Hange, I swear, if this is some practical joke you and Erwin thought of, it stops now!" Levi growled.

"Aw, but I've already set everything up, Levi! C'mon, it's gonna be fun!" Hange replied. Levi could just imagine her saying this into whatever device could transmit sound like this, a smile plastered onto her face and her eyes lit up with that strange, slightly terrifying light that appeared whenever she was performing or talking about an experiment.

"Look, I know you like experiments, but this is going too far! Tch, I thought you valued life more than your stupid science," Levi said through gritted teeth. He couldn't believe Hange would ever betray him this way, but it seemed like it didn't even faze her. What the heck was wrong with her?!

"Just hush up and listen," Hange crooned, "Now, each group was named for the personality traits its members share-"

"Please note, I did not name any of the teams. They were all her," Sherlock interrupted, "Don't blame me."

"Thanks for that ringing endorsement, Sherlock. Have a little faith, won't ya?" Hange harrumphed, "So, Team #1 is…drumroll please…FIERCE AND SHORT! This group consists of Edward Elric, Holly Short, Yuri Plisetsky, and Levi Ackerman."

The air filled with many loud, colorful exclamations.

- What's hanging, Team #2? -

Ed's here, too? Alphonse Elric thought, That's not good, not at all. Not to mention the fact he's probably going to flip about his team's name…he might even destroy something – or someone – and get himself in trouble with "Hange" and "Sherlock". Erghhhh.

"Um, any complaints if we could, er, possibly choose that group as one of our two to save if we win?" Yuri Katsuki spoke into the silence, shifting uncomfortably, "It's just, uh, one of my close friends was in that last group…if not, that's totally fine, too, I just-"

Toris cut off his rambling, "Y-yeah, yeah, of course. N-no one I know has been announced so far, so there's no one I'd especially want to save instead."

"Only one team has been announced so far, though," Neville commented, then put up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "But I'm not saying we shouldn't do it! I'd be okay with that!"

"My brother was actually in that group, so that would definitely be all right with me, too," Al added.

"O-Okay, great, thanks," Yuri mumbled, his hands playing with the skirt of his weird, sparkly outfit.

"Okay, okay, as interesting as it is to listen to Fierce and Short's many loud and incredibly colorful exclamations of revenge, we have to move on. Next group, Team #2, is…" Sherlock paused for dramatic effect, "A- what? What does this mean, Hange?"

"It means really cute and really dorky at the same time," Hange supplied.

"It's not even a word."

"So?"

A sigh, and then, "Team #2 is…Adorkable. Its members are Yuri Katsuki or Katsuki Yuri, Neville Longbottom, Alphonse Elric, and Toris Laurinaitis. I'll just let that one sink in, shall I?"

"Oh…that's us," Neville stated simply after the announcement was over.

"Adorkable…huh…" Yuri drifted off uncertainly.

"Y-You know, that's not the worst n-name we could have gotten," Toris suggested.

"That's true," Al nodded.

They all lapsed into silence once again, waiting for the next group announcement.

Roughly thirty seconds later, Hange spoke again, "Wow, you guys are popular with some of the other groups! We're getting shouts of 'how could you' and 'they're too cute'! Well done, boys!"

Really? Al wasn't really sure what to think about that – and it looked like no one else really did either -, so he decided to go with feeling flattered.

- A bit before with Team #3 -

"Okay, okay, okay, stop it!" Carlos shouted, pulling the vampire away from the witch. Sorry, pulling Artemis Fowl away from Hermione Granger. I've lived in Nightvale for too long, Carlos realized with a mental smile. That town was strange – really strange –, but it was his home now.

"How dare you insult my credibility?! I will have you know that I have been called by many the best witch of this century!" Hermione fumed.

"Who's many?" Artemis smirked, "Your family?"

"Why do you ask? Does you look to your family for compliments so you can feel like a better person?" Hermione retorted.

"Of course not. The question was directed at you."

"It's basic psychology, Arty. Insults directed at others usually spawn from your own self-hatred."

"Don't call me 'Arty'."

"Guys, shouldn't we be working together?" the blond coconu- Armin Arlert interrupted, only to be ignored by the two.

"Also, don't even try to out-psychology me, Hermione. I wrote many chapters of the books on psychology in my world, so I think I know a thing or two about the subject. That's why I ask you now, why are you dodging my question?" Artemis continued. Armin and Carlos' eyes flitted back and forth, from one to the other, as if they were watching a tennis match of words.

"I am not dodging your question!" Hermione bristled, crossing her arms over her torso.

"Yes, you are. I asked who your 'big' fans are, and you fired back with a lame 'what about you then'. It was pretty pathetic."

"I'll have you know the most powerful wizard of our century told me it multiple times," Hermione responded, lifting her nose slightly in the air.

"That's nice. Any proof?" Artemis fired back.

"Proof? Why do I need proof?"

"How else am I supposed to trust anything you say," it was a statement, not a question.

"That's it! You two are done. I am sick and tired of hearing people complain and moan about every stupid little thing they can think of when important, relevant things are occurring! You are both acting like children! How old are you?!" Armin rounded on Artemis, who returned his glare with a cool stare.

"Are you seriously asking?" Artemis asked after a few beats of silence.

"Yes! How old are you?" Armin interrogated, his tone steely.

"Eighteen, but I don't see how that is-" Artemis was cut off by Armin.

"And you? How old are you?" Armin pivoted toward Hermione, who physically flinched backward a slight bit.

"Fourteen," she answered hesitantly.

"See! You two are both old enough to be mature, responsible people – so act like it," Armin stated, his slightly high voice in stark contrast to his icy words. Artemis looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he wisely decided not to and shut his mouth with a click. Hermione took a deep breath, then nodded silently at Armin, as if confirming she could do what he had "suggested".

Carlos just stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He had never been very great at social interaction – heck, it had taken him forever to realize Cecil actually liked him, despite the many radio announcements he had listened to –, and teenagers were like his ultimate kryptonite. Back in highschool and college, he had just worked all day on his science experiments and not talked to his classmates much, out of either fear or annoyance at their childish behavior; he wasn't exactly sure which.

A loud voice – the female, Hange, if Carlos remembered correctly – over the unseen speakers jolted Carlos out of his kind of depressing reflections on his social life, "Thank you, Teams #3 and #4, for proving that not just Fierce and Short can hate each other's guts! Team #3, you guys are all so intelligent, you can't even work together. And Team #4, you guys are just so dang cocky! It's fascinating and makes for great research, so keep it up-"

"Hange, if they keep it up because you told them to, that would ruin the experiment. Don't you know the first thing about science?" Sherlock said bluntly, and Carlos had to agree with the psychopathic man. Telling your experiment what to do was rather counterproductive.

"Then why did we tell them it was an experiment to begin with if contamination of the specimens' actions is such a big issue?" Hange retaliated.

"They had to know the stakes so we could ensure compliance," Sherlock explained in a weary voice.

"Don't try to out-science me, Know-It-All," Hange huffed.

They're just as bad as Hermione and Artemis, Carlos sighed mentally. What he wouldn't give to be back in Nightvale right now, even if that did mean he might be in danger from one of the almost weekly – no, almost daily – disasters, natural or otherwise, that afflicted the town.

"Anyways," Sherlock sighed, "Team #3 is-"

"You're not even going to ask me to do it? Rude!" Hange spluttered.

"I figured you were too distracted telling test subjects what to do in an experiment," Sherlock said in a mocking tone before continuing as if he had never been cut off, "Team #3 is Braniacs."

Must be our team… Carlos rolled his eyes inwardly.

"Its members are Artemis Fowl, Hermione Granger, Armin Arlert, and…er…Perfect Hair is all it says here," Sherlock continued.

Yup, that'd be us, Carlos thought without particular enthusiasm.

"Yeah, that's that hot scientist I was telling you about! It's a pity he's gay, because he has hair like an angel and teeth like a military cemetery!" Hange squealed.

And this day just keeps getting better, Carlos groaned internally.

"Shut up, Team #6! You don't get to- hey! Don't call me that! That's rude!" Hange cried, making Carlos wonder: what had Team #6 been yelling at her- ohhh, shiitake mushrooms. He wasn't here, too, was he?

- Around the same time with Team #4 -

"My father will hear about this!" the platinum blond that Envy hadn't bothered to learn the name of sniffed haughtily at the ceiling.

"Oh wow, everybody better start running! His father is coming," that John dude remarked sarcastically.

"Is there something you'd like to say to my face, Horse?" Platinum rounded on him, practically fuming.

"I do not look like a horse!" Jeen exclaimed angrily, advancing on Platinum.

"Do you have any popcorn?" Envy hissed to the weird horse-man-thing as he watched the spectacle unfold. At least I have some entertainment in this god-forsaken place. Seriously, is this some kind of mission from Father or what? If so, I am going to kick his-

The weird horse-man-thing interrupted his thoughts, shaking his head and saying, "No, unfortunately."

Envy sighed and turned his attention back to the blonds.

"Do you know who I am?! I am Draco Malfoy. Your puny existence can't even handle mine!" Platinum was shouting.

"Good one!" Envy laughed. Platinum – for Envy had decided to permanently name him that – glanced over at Envy, looking both angry and thankful for the back-up (at least, Envy thought he should be looking that way; in reality, he mostly just looked annoyed at having his monologue interrupted). His face also showed another emotion that might have been concern, possibly caused by Envy's uncontrollable giggling.

"Well, you're really big into yourself, aren't you? So, what 'great' achievements have you done, then, Malfoy? Killed any Titans? Joined the military?" Jawn snarked back, ignoring Envy. Rude, but I guess he'll just have to learn like everyone else why he should pay a lot of attention to me, Envy mused in his mind, his giggling bursting into full-on laughter at the thought.

"No, but I could still kill you if I wanted," Platinum retorted.

Before Jaan could say anything back, the voices from above Envy had been ignoring in preference of watching the fight said his name. Actually, they said everyone's names (at least, Envy thought so – he hadn't been paying attention to anyone's names so far).

"Anyway, you're getting off-topic again, Hange. Team #4 is Cocky, and its members are Jean Kirschtein, Envy, Draco Malfoy, and Foaly," the male voice said.

"What?! No way! I am not cocky!" Jane shook his head adamantly.

"Well, neither am I. These people must be crazy!" Platinum stomped his foot the way Pride sometimes did when he got mad. So cute, Envy crooned sarcastically in his head.

"Yeah, you two are pretty cocky. Me, though? I can't see that," Foaly sighed, shaking his head.

"You guys aren't cocky, you're losers! Cocky people are people who know they're better than everyone else! To know that would be lying to yourself!" Envy laughed loudly in all of their faces.

"Are you saying you're better than us, then?" Jake asked, raising an arrogant eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. The best," Envy rolled his eyes, "You humans are weaklings, plain and simple."

"Hold on, 'you humans'? Are you implying you aren't one?" Platinum asked, arms crossed in front of his body, which made him look even more like the petulant child he is.

"Yeah, I am, and I am proud of it," Envy stated, "I mean, look at horse dude over here – not you, Jeans, the other guy with the literal horse body. Although I gotta say, you play the part of a horse yourself very well."

"Oh, that's it!" Jill tackled him to the floor. They struggled for a moment before Envy shook Jack off, then pinned him to the ground by his hands.

"As entertaining as this is, you guys really need to calm down. We're supposed to work together, remember?" Foaly spoke up.

"I'm…not…working…with this…guy. Not even…if my life…depends on…it," Jeal grunted, his now-free arms trying to pry Envy's hands from around his throat. Foaly knelt down rather hastily and began trying to yank Envy off Jamie, without much success.

"Help me out here, Malfoy!" Foaly beckoned to Platinum, who shrugged and remained where he was.

"Not my problem, centaur," he sneered.

"Come on, we need to work together!" Foaly continued to fail to pull Envy off. Slowly, Jerry's face turned purple.

"Or not! Killing you all now will minimize your suffering!" Envy grinned.

"All right, Cocky, that's enough. You can stop killing each other now," Sherlock stated in an almost bored voice.

No one stopped what they were doing.

"This is your second warning, Cocky. Cease hurting each other," Sherlock repeated, his tone hardening slightly.

"Or what? You'll kill us? I'd rather die than have to spend another minute with these awful humans and that horse thing!" Envy spat at the ceiling.

"Hurtful," Foaly whinnied.

"Plus, I think you'll find me pretty hard to kill," Envy added smugly, knowing he had the voice beat there.

"Ah, at least one of us deserves to be in this cocky group," Platinum remarked while cleaning out his fingernails.

"Like you can talk, Platinum!" Envy scoffed.

James didn't say anything, as he was currently gasping for air under Envy's tight grip, and Foaly was too busy trying to end that situation to comment either.

Sherlock's shrug was almost audible in his voice, "Fine, don't say I didn't warn you. I have methods that can destroy even Homonculi."

Shit.

"Whatever, you'll be more entertaining to torment if you're alive, anyway," Envy said nonchalantly as he finally moved off a spluttering Jacob.

"Ooh, did Sherlock scare you, Mr. Jealousy?" Hange laughed.

These people are even worse than my "family", Envy growled in his head. Outwardly, he just stuck his tongue out and cackled at the ceiling.

- What's happening with Team #5? -

Kevin couldn't understand why the other test subjects Hange and Sherlock were talking about sounded like they were so…on edge. Killing people for a good cause was great! Even if that cause wasn't technically for StrexCorp, its results could still be used to help Strex out, so good for those Hange and Sherlock fellows! Plus, going through deadly challenges for management – in whatever form it chose to take – was just part of life and offered up wonderful opportunities for adventure and meeting new friends. He'd already met a couple of fantastic people during his short time here, and he was set on enslavin- being buddies with them!

"Become one with Mother Russia, da?" the creepy, grey-haired man named Ivan with the maliciously child-like smile asked. What a cool name! And wow, what a creative way to say you want to be friends! Kevin thought excitedly. He'd have to try that one out on all his friends back in beautiful Desert Bluffs.

"Forsooth, where for art my wondrous princess?" that poetic, playful Orion chap chirped. He's like Shakespeare, except Shakespeare was actually an acronym for a covert propaganda scheme by StrexCorp!

Then, there was the silent, slightly unnerving fellow who hadn't actually introduced himself yet. He was all brooding with his tussled black hair and blue-yellow-and-white costume. How mysterious! He's probably a hard worker who doesn't get distracted with things like chatting. He'll be a real great addition to StrexCorp's team of bright, smiling employees!

"Hello there, friend," Kevin smiled at the silent dude. Kevin might have been wrong, but he thought he saw Mr. Mysterious (as Kevin had opted to call him) flinch a bit. Good! Good. Good…he should be scared…of how friendly Kevin was being! It was morbidly, terrifyingly, horribly perky of him!

"What are you guys talking about?" Orion broke in to their "conversation".

"Oh, hi there, friend!" Kevin greeted Orion in usual Desert Bluff's fashion: by licking his face.

"Oh! Uh…hello again…" why does he look so flustered all of a sudden? Kevin wondered. In fact, the mysteriously silent stranger also seemed to have the slightest bit of confusion written on his face. I must have surprised them! Kevin decided.

"I was just about to tell this fine man how useful he could be if he became an employee for StrexCorp," Kevin grinned, "In fact, you'd probably make a great addition as well! You can get started right away. Right now."

"Right, uh, yeah…I'll, uh, have to get back to you on that," Orion said, looking strangely alarmed, "…by the way, why do you have, um, that on yourself?" He gestured to all of Kevin's body, which confused the radio host.

"'That'? Would you mind being a teensy bit more specific please?" Kevin prompted.

"That…um…ugh…fine, I'll just say it! Why is there blood on you!? Did you murder someone?!" Orion practically shouted.

"Oh no, I haven't done that in a little while," Kevin assured, "No, this is just what I usually decorate my clothing with. I feel like it really spices my fashion style up! So does everyone else in Desert Bluffs, too…wait, you don't have any blood or organs on you…does that mean…?" Kevin let out a dramatic gasp of his own, before continuing, "Does that mean you're not from Desert Bluffs?"

"I've never heard of Desert Bluffs," Orion said, sounding almost a little sheepish.

"Oh, that's quite alright. We're a pretty small town," Kevin explained, then added in an ominous whisper, "But you will know of us soon enough. Just remember to believe in a Smiling God."

"What?" Orion asked.

"What? I didn't say anything!" Kevin beamed.

"Ooookay, well, I'm going to go-" Orion was cut off mid-sentence by the speakers blaring to life again.

"Sorry about the delay for the announcement of Group #5, test subjects. You all are just so psychologically fun to watch," Sherlock's voice told them all, "But, anyway, onto Group #5, which is…Weirdly Terrifying? What kind of name is that, Hange?"

"The name I gave them. Do you like it?" she responded proudly.

"No, I don't," Sherlock stated coldly, "Weirdly Terrifying is made up of Ivan Braginsky, Otabek Altin, Orion…Fowl?" Sherlock paused, before continuing, "Yes, we'll go with Fowl. Orion Fowl. Anyway, lastly, it has Kevin. Just…just Kevin. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, having just announced the names Foaly and Envy – two extremely bad names to give your child, by the way –, but I still can't get over the fact no one seems to understand what a last name is here."

"Sherlock, it's their names! Don't insult them!" Hange "hissed", but accidentally did so into the presumably-present microphone so everyone could hear her.

"I'm just stating my opinion: those names are awful. Who names their child Alphonse, anyway? Or Orion? Why not John, Mary, or Rose? Or Sherlock, even?" Sherlock contemplated.

"Sherlock!" Hange scolded.

"As I said, just stating my opinion."

Wow, these people sure are funny. Although they're also very distractible, and that's not a very good method for working. They really should be getting on with the experiment instead of blabbing about inconsequential titles we give to ourselves so we can be distinguished from the masses, many of whom share the same inconsequential title, making the whole process pointless anyway, Kevin thought, shaking his head inwardly in disappointment.

Meanwhile, Orion was frowning, "Did that Sherlock guy just insult my name? Wow…that was rather Artemis-like of him."

"'Artemis-like'?" Kevin inquired, unfamiliar with this term.

"My other personality. Or, rather, my host personality…? I'm not entirely sure how this whole thing works, or how I have a separate body from Artemis all of a sudden, but we're connected in a way," Orion explained "helpfully", "He's a rude man, so I say 'Artemis-like' when I think someone is being mean."

"Ah," Kevin replied, uncertain of how else to respond, "I would call that…well…maybe Cecil-like."

"Cecil?" Orion asked.

"A competitor in radio broadcasting," Kevin said simply, his smile hardening into a sort-of cruel smirk.

"R-Right," Orion nodded a bit shakily. Was it something I said? Kevin thought.

"What is being discussed here?" both Orion and Kevin jumped as the Ivan fellow suddenly appeared between them, smiling in a sickly-sweet manner and waving his hand a bit in 'hello'.

"Oh hi, Ivan!" Kevin licked his face without any sign of surprise from Ivan, "Nothing much, we're just discussing a good friend of mine named Cecil Palmer."

"I thought you just said he was-" Orion began, but Kevin cut him off.

"Doesn't mean I don't want to be friends with him. I want to be friends with everyone, including you, friend," Kevin nudged Orion, winking at him. Orion didn't look especially happy with this gesture, but Kevin didn't stop to ponder why.

"That's a great attitude to be having," Ivan laughed, "I want to be being friends with everyone, too. Not everyone is wanting to be my friend back, but it's okay. I'll make them want to be my friend."

"That's wonderful! You have a very persistent, hardworking spirit – I can tell. I truly appreciate people with that quality. We need more people with that quality," Kevin said, his voice lowering menacingly.

"Would you be liking to be my friend, then?" Ivan asked, extending a hand.

"Of course~! Would you like to become a worker for StrexCorp?" Kevin asked in return.

"Da, if there's good pay," Ivan agreed.

"Oh, there's no pay," Kevin reported, still smiling.

"Great! It's a deal!" Ivan snatched up Kevin's hand and shook it firmly. People skills! Wonderful.

"Hi again, everyone!" Hange chirped over the speakers, "No, I told you, Sherlock, no more announcing for you until you apologize!"

Grumbling could be heard in the background before Sherlock mumbled something that resembled the word "sorry".

"Good, now announce the next grouuup~!" Hange sang, "This one's my favorite."

"Fine. The next – and last – group is #6, and it is named…Hange, what is this?" Sherlock asked, sounding nonplussed.

"Hm?"

"This name. What-"

"What does it mean? Well, ga-"

"No, I know what the word means," Sherlock interrupted, "I'm just- why did you name the group that?"

"It seemed like the most fitting name," Hange said, starting to sound confused as well. Probably because she is confused why Sherlock is confused, Kevin figured.

"But ¼ of them aren't even really like that," Sherlock's tone had drifted to full-on concerned mode at this point.

"Yes, well, it was close enough. I suppose I could have just chosen that Ymir girl or her girlfriend Christa, but I just looove drama!" Hange replied.

Another sigh from Sherlock, "Whatever. I don't know why I even trusted you with choosing the test subjects and organizing the groups. It seemed like a simple enough task, but I suppose I forgot you're incapable of rational thought."

"Hey! That's not nice!"

Sherlock continued as if he couldn't hear her ongoing protests, "Team #6 is…Gay. It contains Cecil Palmer-"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Kevin fell to his knees in despair.

- Team #2 again, huh? -

"- Victor Nikiforov-" as Sherlock announced the second name for Gay, Toris felt an apprehensive shiver go down his spine. He had a bad feeling about this group for some reason. Next to him, Yuri let out a long, pained groan and put his head in his hands. Before Toris could ask what was wrong (although he had a pretty good idea already), all his suspicions and nightmares were confirmed by the third name.

"- Feliks Lukasiewicz-" Sherlock continued.

No…

- Team #4 -

"- and Marco Bodt," Sherlock finished.

"What?" Jean stared blankly at the emotionless bleached ceiling, unable to register what he had just heard.

"Do you know him?" Foaly asked curiously.

"I- um- sorry," Jean blinked rapidly, trying to dispel his mind-emptying confusion. He must have just heard Sherlock wrong or something.

"I don't know," he responded dumbly after a few more seconds of stunned silence. Dangit, Jean, get it together, he berated himself mentally.

"'Don't know'? How do you not know if you know someone?" Foaly joked.

"I just- er…mind your own business!" Jean snapped, a little more harshly than he had intended, causing the horse-person-thing to flinch backward in surprise.

"Touchy, touchy," Foaly muttered, but Jean ignored him in favor of tuning back into what the speakers were saying, hoping they would disprove what his ears had heard.

"Hange, didn't you tell me Marco-?" Sherlock was asking.

"Yes, yes, he did, but I felt it'd be kind of exciting to bring him back!" Hange responded cheerfully. Shit. Well, apparently Jean now had the option of saving his dead best friend, just so long as his group won a set of possibly – probably, knowing Hange – deadly challenges, all against other teams that held some of his friends. Well, one of his friends. Still, the situation was very confusing and intensely unpleasant…no, horrible. Jean had thought his life couldn't get any worse in the Survey Corps, but now he knew it could…and it had.

- A look into the mind of the one and only, the great…Sherlock! -

"Well, anyway, all the players are on the board now," Sherlock announced, his voice cool and menacing, "The game is-"

"The show's gotta go all over the place or something!" Hange cried, cutting Sherlock off.

"Hange, what does that even mean?!" Sherlock snapped. It wasn't just his voice that snapped either; his sanity did as well (if you assume he ever had some to begin with). He was done with Hange and her annoying excitement. Plus, he had given her the simple task of finding people and putting them into groups based on personality traits. He had been expecting traits like "brave", "kind", or "comedic sidekick", and instead ended up with groups such as "gay" and "cocky". What did "gay" even mean? "Gay" wasn't an adjective, unless you meant "happy", and that Marco guy didn't seem very happy.

None of it made any sense, but Sherlock had – barely, but surely – put up with it. Now, though…now, Hange had interrupted him in the middle of a dramatic one-liner, and that would not stand!

"What do you mean, Sherlock?" Hange asked, and Sherlock swiveled to look at her, practically fuming (although his face remained emotionless and calm).

"I mean, what does 'the show's gotta go all over the place or something' even mean? No one – no one – says that," Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth.

"To be honest, I don't know what it means either. It just kind of popped into my head! Funny how things do that, don't you think?" Hange smiled at him, and Sherlock had to resist the urge to strangle her. He succeeded. Barely.

A shout from one of the groups – the gay one, if Sherlock remembered correctly – caught Sherlock's attention momentarily as he heard that Cecil guy chanting up at the ceiling. He seemed to be saying, "All hail!" over and over again.

Sherlock groaned, reality finally hitting him. He was stuck in this awful experiment (partially because of he had nothing better to do, and partly because of a soul-destroying legal document he had been tricked into signing) with a bunch of crazy, other-dimensional people, and it really felt like he was the one being tested right now. Stupid Hange, stupid test subjects, stupid everyone. At least, when he went home after all of this was over, he could relax and unwind with a good ol' game of Shoot the Smiley Face.

"Fine, whatever, I don't care anymore. Let's just…let's just begin, shall we? After all, the game is-"

Author's Note:

*Viktor's resemblance both in voice and features to Russia causes Poland/Feliks to think that Viktor is Russia. This is why he reacts so badly to Viktor.

Eyyy, you made it through! This my longest (posted) fanfiction chapter ever (more than 6,300 words, not counting the A/N)! I know that's not a ton, but I'm getting there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this, and I will post another chapter of this and of "Doctor HoO?" soon! Until next time, dear readers, until next time.

P.S. For anyone who cares, here is a list of all the pairings that will be mentioned/implied/explored within this fic:

- Carlos x Cecil (THEY ARE JUST TOO DARN CUTE)

- Yuri x Viktor (read above note on Carlos x Cecil)

- Holly x Artemis (not as a fully established relationship, so much as brief mentions of romantic inclinations towards the other; also, one-sided Holly x Orion because Orion)

- Lithuania x Poland (they're-they're just so adorable together…)

- Jean x Marco (because these guys are just so cute, and I apparently can't have enough gay ships)

P.P.S. This A/N is already so goshdarn long, but I just wanted to add that anyone who can guess what T.V. show the "the show's gotta go all over the place or something" quote is from gets a cookie and never-ending soul-rending pain. ?