Flynn pulls back the damp hood of his beaten cloak and shakes his ponytail free as he steps into the smell and noise and torch light of a weathered dive.

It seems some things remain constant even across dimensions and realities.

The place is crowded with raucous patrons with nothing to do but drink while they take shelter from the storm that has been raging all day.

This might be something like a worst nightmare for the staff.

He makes his way carefully to the bar, dodging flailing and stumbling customers as he twists across the floor. He seats himself on a stool and the bartender stonily asks him for his order. Flynn gives him an understanding smile and asks for a beer. The man simply sighs and shrugs, admitting that there isn't really a whole lot he can get angry about. The service industry is just like this sometimes.

Flynn sips quietly as a thousand indistinct conversations wash over him. If he focuses he can pick some things out, the same stuff people in bars talk about the worlds over. Politics, work, relationships, it was actually rather comforting. As time goes on, he feels a continuous pressure, and awareness that someone's eyes are on him. They are probably staring at the anachronistic device that he has strapped to his back. The places he has so far visited in this world still consider a crossbow to be cutting edge weaponry, so his M4 Carbine has a tendency to draw attention.

He turns ever so slightly to get a look.

Well, this is unexpected.

The modern clothing, a dark green coat and grey jeans of obviously industrial manufacture, the subtly curving Japanese style katana at his left side, the twin Glock 19 pistols holstered on his back, and the unmistakable bit of machinery on his left arm all bring forth one inevitable conclusion and about a thousand more questions. The young man rises and makes his way to the empty seat to Flynn's right and sits down.

If he decides to attack, I'm in trouble. In this position, my right side is exposed and he has freedom to maneuver his sword, while if I try to draw mine on the left side, it will be blocked by the counter in front of me, not to mention how much easier it will be for him to get his pistol free than it will be for me to move my rifle into a suitable position.

Flynn turns himself toward the stranger as the young man sets down his mug. The stranger smirks in amusement as he notices Flynn's shift in stance.

He's noticed the man thinks that my position gives me a weapons advantage, so by facing me he can quickly start a grapple if it looks like I'm going for my sword or gun, and with his greater size and mass, he would have the advantage at such close range. I see that the arsenal isn't just for show. Well, considering the position I took, this kind of reaction isn't surprising. I could probably have avoided the whole tense situation if I had sat on his left but...then he would have his sword advantage on me!

The man extends his hand, keeping the other one on the table in easy sight.

"Kazuya" he says.

Flynn meets the offered arm and they shake.

"Flynn."

The first part of their conversation is given over to resolving their situation, which ends with them agreeing that the worlds they come from are parallel versions of each other. Resolving that, they come to trading war stories, getting strange looks from other patrons over their animated conversation in Japanese. Doubtless their conversation, filled with gods and demons, would not be more comforting to them even if it were spoken in the common tongue of this land.

They continue drinking and talking amicably, a slow feeling of foreboding stealing over Flynn as the lightness of the alcohol infuses him.

Two sorcerers getting drunk in a bar, this sounds like the setup to a bad jest, however...there is something ominous here that I cannot quite identify.

"So," Kazuya interrupts the peace, his face now noticeably flush "how do you want to do this?'"

All Flynn has for him is a questioning glance.

"Come on, I know you've been thinking about it from the moment we started talking. Well I've been thinking about it too, so let's just do it already!"

"Wha- that's a bit bold of you, bringing something like that up all of a sudden. I mean, I really do not think it's a good idea."

"Oh come on, don't be a spoil sport, we both clearly need to."

"But...umm, I've never done anything like that before."

"Relax, it will be fine, I've done it plenty of times, so I can guide you."

"Well...since you seem to be enthusiastic about it...ok."

Flynn notices then out of the corner of his eye that one of the young waitresses is staring at them intently with a bright red face. He nudges Kazuya, who turns to the girl with a questioning look.

"Oh, nothing, please continue!" The girl stammers as she bolts back into the kitchen.

"Hm, we're getting odd looks from the others near us as well, could it be that we said the last part of that conversation in the native language?"

"Seems so, still, what's with the looks?"

"I'm not sure, perhaps they misunderstood something."

"What could they possibly have misunderstood?"

"Well, I am not sure exactly but...how do I say this? I sense impure thoughts."

Kazuya merely shrugs before continuing in Japanese.

"Well, whatever. Now we just need to think of terms. A regular sparring match wouldn't really tell us who's stronger; after all, you have the definitive advantage in that you can use demon skills. To begin with, as a human, skill can only take you so far, what lets you go up against demons is magic equipment."

Flynn nods his agreement, adding "I think the best way to settle this is through demons."

"Yeah, but obviously we can't just fight each other, I'm pretty competitive, and we're not looking to draw in any collateral."

"I do not like to lose either. I think the best way to settle this is through alternative use of the demons. We will each use the demon to perform an act, and the most impressive act wins."

"Hah, I'm down!" Kazuya says with a wild grin.

Both demon summoners down the rest of their 7th mug of beer and bring it thudding on to the countertop like a starting pistol.

Flynn takes the initiative, "I think I shall begin by resolving our tab." With a metallic whir, the protective panel on his gauntlet slides back to reveal his COMP menu screen. His fingers move quickly over it and the air becomes charged with power as a presence suddenly stands beside him. It is invisible to all but Kazuya and Flynn, but all the people in the bar find themselves suddenly enraptured by the coins on the tables before them. How had they never noticed that beautiful metallic gleam before?

The scrawny, rat faced demon, Melchom, holds out a large green purse tied around its neck. Flynn reaches deep into it and pulls out a handful of silver coins and leaves them on the table where they whisper promisingly to the bartender. In a sudden breath of air, Melchom is gone and the patrons and employees all blink as if awakening from a trance.

"Not bad," Kazuya states "if you were a banker." He gets up from the table, Flynn following suit, and they both grab their cloaks as they walk into the stormy night.

They splash their way across the cities rain-slick stone streets, Kazuya looking about for inspiration.

"Best try to keep things small; it would hardly do any good for the local powers to get involved over a silly game like this." He thinks out loud. Soon he comes to a sudden halt in front of a market stall, abandoned in the rain. Flynn's questioning gaze follows him as he walks to the stall and sits in front of it, speaking evenly and softly as he beckons to the darkness. Before long, a shadow moves on the darkness as it wanders from the depths of the stall to sniff Kazuya's outstretched hand.

The street dog is thin with long hunger, its deep black fur patched in many places by old scars.

"Poor guy," Kazuya says. He turns then to the comp on his wrist and boots it up. Suddenly the air beside him crackles and a smell like roasting flesh fills the street. The dog yelps in a panic and retreats again to the back of the stall.

"Nisroc." Kazuya commands, and the demon at his side is suddenly gone, transversing the city at the speed of thought for one heartbeat, two, on the third it is back at its masters side holding a fat pheasant carcass. The creature's blade becomes a blur of silver as it rapidly slices and skins the pheasant. When it is done, it holds the prepared pheasant up and lets loose a stream of flame from its mouth, turning the pheasant slowly. A moment after the process began, the demon is gone, leaving a steaming, golden brown pheasant in Kazuya's hands.

"Ow!" Kazuya wraps his hands in his cloak so that he can hold the carcass as he once again coerces the dog out of hiding. When it finally decides to come out, lured by the smell of cooked bird, Kazuya hands the meal over to the dog, who tears into it immediately, half its senses always trained on the environment, waiting for a rival to appear and contest the food.

"Quite the feat," Flynn speaks for the first time since they met the dog.

"Not a bad start," Kazuya agrees, "Your turn…"

"I'm going to wait," Flynn nods to the dog "for him to finish eating."

Kazuya turns, his face twisting in puzzled suspicion.

"Hey, you're not planning on doing something weird to the dog, are you?"

"Do not be concerned, I will not harm it. I am worried about that wound on its side."

Kazuya turns back to the dog, searching with his eyes. Sure enough, he had missed it before, but now he sees the glimmer of blood drying along a long line on the dog's side.

His expression becomes dark as he examines the wound.

"That kind of wound could not have been made by another dog…"

"Yes, this was my thinking as well. It is certainly the mark of a blade."

"Alright then, Mr. Samurai, you're up."

There was a sound like the chord of a far away harp and a soft beating of wings, the darkness of the small market stall seemed to crawl over itself to flee into any available corner and even the dog stopped contentedly chewing on bone and stood at attention before the presence at Flynn's side. A hand of light touched the dog's head and great warmth filled it, a thousand aches, old and new, disappearing in an instant.

"What is your name?" The human with the long hair speaks to him.

"I am called 'Boy' by humans, but my mother named me 'Little Fat One'." The dog responds.

"...I see. Tell me then, Little Fat One, how did you come to be wounded on your side?"

Little Fat One snarls at the unpleasant memory.

"Earlier this night I was searching for food when there was suddenly the smell of human blood and a cry of pain. I ran quickly to the place and found one man attacking another with his metal claw. I yelled loudly at them. The attacker tried scaring me away several times; eventually I left when he slashed at me."

"I see." Flynn turns to Kazuya, who is looking at Little Fat One with a contemplative expression.

"Well, Mr. Samurai, looks like you've discovered a murder."

"It seems that way...would you care to-"

"Sure, why not? I've got nothing else to do tonight."

Flynn turns back to Little Fat One.

"Could you take us to where this happened?"

The strange trio moves through the dark city under cover of night and storm, winding through alleys and paths until they stopped in a dark alley in a particularly disreputable section of the city. The alley already reeks of trash and human refuse.

If there was going to be a murder, it really might as well happen here, Kazuya thought.

"We've got it from here, Fatty. Thanks for your help."

Little Fat One barks at them and disappears into the night. Together, Flynn and Kazuya approach the lump of black, hauled off to the side of the alley and partially submerged in a growing puddle. Flynn bends down and inspects the body, observing the great gashes all over the man's chest and arms. If Flynn had to guess, he would put the man at about thirty. Lastly, Flynn opens the man's mouth and smiles.
"Kazuya, his tongue is still here."

"Hah, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Flynn nods and stands back. In that Alley, the winds of the storm cease to blow, the rains cease to fall. In that alley a shadow moves amongst them, black even against the darkness of the night.

"Nebiros…"

The shadow bends over the corpse and breathes something like air into the mouth of the body. There is a long second of silence, and the dead man opens his eyes.

It rises and stares blankly at the two youths before it.

"I feel cold…"

"What is your name?" One asks.

Name? Right, of course, people have names. What had it been…? It was something like,

"Kurn."

"How did you die, Kurn?"

A flash of silver, a roar of anger, pain and red.

"I...was stabbed."

"Do you know the man who stabbed you?"

Red face, black beard, thick muscle.

"Thar, the tanner."

"Do you know why?"

A hungry look

"He lusted after my wife...my wife. What will she do now that I am gone? The children…"

"Tell us where they live, Kurn. Thar the tanner, and your family."

He tells them. A shadow is beside him, how long had it been there? It must have been there the whole time, but he hadn't noticed it. Something like breath is pulled from his lungs and the body falls back onto the floor. A second later, the shadow is gone and the rains and wind once again run rampant in the alley.

"I consider healing the dog and giving it speech to be two moves, Flynn, so to even it out, I'm going to take this next one too."

"Be my guest."

Thar the tanner wakes to the sound of some idiot pounding at his door. His dream had been of Sera, even though he had been thinking about her right before his nap, it seemed it had not been enough. Rolling over, he tries to return to that place, but the idiot at his door is too insistent. Thar lifts his bulk from his bed, imagining the smashed, pulpy faces of whoever was outside causing such a racket. He walks to the door, cursing the storm as he goes. He would already have Sera right now if it were not for this insane storm. He will have to do something about the nuisance of her children, but that is something he can handle later.

He opened the door to find two strange young men standing in the doorway, staring at him stonily. Red fills him at the sight of these two random fools who had woken him on a night like this. If they don't have a reason short of the bloody death of the giant who holds up the world, he will beat the both of them to death with his bare hands.

"Who the hell are you, what the hell are you doing here?!" He bellows. The shorter of the two, touches some strange vambrace on his arm, whispering something that sounded like "Ose."

Thar stumbles and falls back as a sudden terrible fear grips him. He cries out as he scrambles back away from the two. Wasn't that wrong? He can only see two of them, so why is there this feeling like something is standing beside them? A flash of lightning illuminates his doorway; A figure like a great cat, blazing yellow eyes, the smell of fresh blood. The light recedes and it is again just two boys. Thar opens his mouth to question, to cry out, anything, but what comes out instead is

"Gaawk!"

What is that? That can't be his voice!

"Gaawk! Gaawk!"

What is happening!?

The short one is standing above him now, looking down at him with cold eyes.

"The man you killed had a family, people that counted on him to support them."

The boy seems to be growing larger before Thar's eyes. No, not just the boy, everything around him is getting bigger.

"How do you plan on taking responsibility for your actions, Thar?"

Thar lashes out with his arms at the monster that has taken the guise of a handsome boy, but his arms have become black feathered wings. Thar shrieks and clucks madly, turning to try and look at his body, tripping over his new, yellow legs.

"Gawwk! Gaawk! Gaawk!" He cries as a hand reaches down toward him.

Sera stares at the door.

Where is Kurn? He was supposed to bring food from the market ages ago. All the stalls are surely closed with the weather like this. I just hope he's alright.

Her son and daughter are playing in a corner, but it won't be long before they grow hungry.

Well...it's not like this is the only time they will have to skip a meal. Perhaps it's best if they learn at a young age.

There is a sudden, strange rustling sound from beyond the door.

Could that be him?

She is already throwing the door open as she thinks, but is greeted by nothing but a thick curtain of falling rain.

Wha-

A sudden rustling sound interrupts her train of thought. She looks own to see a burlap sack at the doorstep. Something inside is flailing rather strongly. Sera bends down and carefully unties the sack to reveal a plump, black rooster, tied at the beak, legs and wings. As soon as the rooster sees her, it begins it flailing even more vigorously.

Why is there a rooster…?

She leans out to look around, but there is no one to be seen.

Oh well, people in my position can't go around questioning things.

"Children, are you hungry?" She calls out as she picks the rooster up and walks back into her home, closing the door against the storm.

"That was beautifully done, Summoner." Dionysus congratulates his master's new friend, Kazuya on his justice as the three of them drink a vintage of Dionysus's own creation.

"You would say that, it's exactly the kind of thing you and your family do all the time. What about you Flynn, do you think it was too harsh?"

"No."

"Hm...You know, not all that long ago, I would never have been able to imagine myself doing something like that. Back when I lived in Old Tokyo, before all the insanity that followed."

Kazuya feels Flynn clap him on the back and gives a wry grin.

"Well, shall we get back to it then?"

Flynn drains the rest of his cup and responds with a rather feral grin of his own.

"Let's…"

The next day, the city was abuzz with all the activity suppressed by the torrential rain the night before. The atmosphere is cheery and energized as a whole, and the day looks optimistic for most of the cities denizens, which is why it was such a surprise when the sky ignites in scarlet fire, and the earth splits in two, and a thousand thousand shrieking creatures descend like lightning and rise like billowing smoke, flocking among the populace.

A voice like every bell in the world sounds from all directions as a great bronze man with blazing wings of fire descends into the middle of the city, dwarfing even the tallest towers of the palace.

"I am Sabaddonai! Voice of the Almighty Sun! Hear now mortals, for amongst you lie sinners most foul!"

From the pit in the earth rises a figure of black smoke that speaks with a voice like the anguish of the diseased.

"I am Cthyinga, lieutenant of the Eternal Moon! Know that we two forces who have been in eternal struggle since the time before time have joined now to enact punishment on those who encroach on our authority! There is nowhere to hide yourselves!"

Sabaddonai lifts a great gold scroll and unrolls it.

"Last night, while the storm was raging, a pair of sorcerers committed many acts of magic that infringe on the authority of the spirits of the house of the Almighty Sun. We will now begin a search for these trespassers that they might be punished. Do not resist questioning. The two stand accused of the following acts…"

The legion spirits of light and dark that had assembled went through the city then, accosting, and questioning, and smiting everyone in sight.

"Was it you? Did you see anything? It was you, wasn't it!"

All the time, the glass shattering might of Shaddonai's voice continued to read off the list of grievances.

"Causing a Sparrow to reach full maturity in a moment, transforming a lake into wine…"

Many people fled in terror, some were simply paralyzed by astonishment, the priests all stood around looking at each other in confusion.

"Causing a bolt of lightning from the sky to become solid, moving the city of Sedassa onto a mesa, causing a forest to speak obscenities to all travelling through it…"

This is getting us nowhere. That's what I get for agreeing to work with these Solar types. They have zero subtlety.

Cthyinga thinks as she sighs a pestilence ridden sigh that kills all the crops for miles. She notices then one of her servants flying up to meet her.

"Causing a fire to become cold while still burning, turning all the grains of sand in the great Karakas Desert into gold,"

"My Lady, one of our scouts has discovered what appears to be a healed dimensional rift not far from the city. It seems it closed many hours ago."

they're already gone

Cthyinga stares at the creature with mounting fury. Grabbing it in her great black hand, she crushes it instantly.

This has been a gigantic waste of time…

"Forbidding the telling of lies in the country of Ataslan, turning the mountains of the Beast's Teeth upside down...re-...ahem, rearranging the stars of the constellation of Solaris Victorious to resemble a phallus, causing a temple to age in reverse…"

GODDAMN TOURISTS!