Notes: Sorry about the chapter taking so long... just had a lot of delays. Anyway, yes, I have included Hellsing and Outlaw Star on this crazy crossover trip. The other anime/game series shouldn't be too hard to guess, but I'd be surprised if anyone can hit the strangest one I threw in... I dropped a few names and clues to make it a little easier guess. Also featured in this chapter is the first OC. There will be plenty more too, but don't worry, chances are few will survive the difficult struggles ahead...
Again, credits to ReadingWhiz89 for helping me perfect this insanity (beta work). Enjoy the show!
In the nemesis' enthusiasm, a certain hint of precision had slipped from his brilliant mind. His metal servants had performed excellently with superior upgrades to software, telling the golems exactly how and what to hunt, timing with great accuracy, and executing their actions without fail. The error then came from the human side. The great doctor had forgotten to thoroughly inspect his captive before strapping her to the machine.
She had barely enough room to reach into the pocket of her blue vest and subtly grasp the small computing device that had long served her. Luckily, the tool had been upgraded with a high-intensity laser designed for such tight situations. In a quick series of three highly-concentrated blasts (close and powerful enough to singe through small bits of her suit) the captive broke her bonds, and sprung from the doomed seat as a long metal needle slammed into the blood-stained operating chair.
As the escapee dashed for the blade, she heard the electric humanoids' metal flaps retract sharply, followed by a distinct "whir"-like sound. Quickly she grasped the hilt of the artifact, planted her foot against the wall, and with all her strength tore the prize from its resting place.
Compared to the energy of her minor utility, the beams with which the robots were armed appeared terrifying. If not for the arcane powers embedded in the sword, the wielder would have been reduced to a charred corpse. However, this was not the case, as the blade managed to reflect the incoming fire toward the adjacent walls, leaving large holes and fried circuits.
"Oh, what do you expect to do with your father's toy?"
She remained silent under pressure and inched away across the damaged wall, still facing her enemy. The magnitude of the blasts had discharged the squadron's weapons; it would be precious seconds before they could become threats once more. The bald giant snapped his fingers, almost a telepathic signal to the lead machine. It ran out, reaching for the escapee, before having its arm quickly severed, and iron head removed in a flash.
I… I am not this powerful...
Indeed, but I am.
What?
The foreign voice was drowned by the commanding fiend's exclamation.
"Ha! You expect to fight your way out with that?! Do you realize how deep we are in MY city?!"
"Why do you have this?"
The situation seemed to merely amuse the villain. He laughed harshly under his sadistic smirk before replying.
"After I exiled your father, I discovered your petty heirloom. It seemed appropriate to mount that precisely where his sad little zealots could see… just before they learned to serve their new master and realize the futility of resistance."
"Sick…"
"Oh don't worry, princess, it is not nearly as painful as it looks. I could, however, make it FAR more troublesome for your defiant attitude. Perhaps you should submit now-"
"Never!"
A look of impatience flashed across the dictator's face. The wretch and her fellow fighters had done exceptionally well in orchestrating a variety of terrorist acts to halt his progress. It was coming time to deal a fatal blow to the liberation organization, and this would certainly be an excellent time to take action. But then he noticed something, and his twisted smile resurfaced once more.
"Hmm, well no matter. AHEM!"
His small assistant responded accordingly, running to a huge panel to pull a switch just over half his size. A massive shutter flew down, separating the girl from the mad doctor.
"If you do not wish to willingly aid me, then I can find another use for you. An experiment maybe? Yes… that will do nicely."
He paced parallel to the shutter, hands loosely joined behind his back.
"You see, this contraption with which I used to… put your father into a separate reality, if you will, has undergone some adjustments. You may notice that lovely blue emerald embedded in the frame behind you."
Horrified, the trapped heroine turned to face the portal, the mystic invention fused of sorcery and technology, the black void responsible for sealing her family. It looked even more hellish than she recalled.
"Of course, it is what you may guess. With such an unwieldy power source, it is hard to say where exactly it will lead. From a few test runs there is a high probability the material will be sent to a… far-away location. Much farther than this planet—most likely into a vacuum of space. I could be wrong though, as the original machine was not intended to be used in conjunction with the gem. No matter, it will get rid of you. Of course, there is only one disadvantage I can see with the option you chose; unlike the roboticizer, I won't be able to hear you scream."
His victim gritted teeth and clenched her sword as he punched a few keys on his mechanized arm, remotely activating his "experiment".
The actual vacuum was far greater than the dark genius could have anticipated. In an instant, the girl was sucked into the void, followed by several objects lying in the vicinity of the portal. Most of the smaller items in the room at least gravitated toward the device, if not slammed against the iron bars protecting it. Even some of his robotic servants a bit too close the effective radius began to slide toward the grate. It did not take long to enter the deactivation code.
Neither did it take very long to notice the empty socket in the enclosed machine. As soon as the chaos subsided, the look of accomplishment degenerated into that of a sour taste. He walked to his nephew, still clutching the switch in fear of the void. He grasped the collar of his assistant and ripped him from his grasp.
"Snivley, how firmly did you secure the emerald?"
"As tightly as it would go sir!"
"Well apparently that WASN'T ENOUGH!"
Snivley was then tossed aside quite mildly compared to the boss' usual fits. This time it was perhaps eased by the sweet quality of his revenge.
"With the emerald, it is possible she could return should her body not be torn apart by time or space."
"Even without your brilliant machine sir?"
"Unfortunately, yes. One merely needs a mediator for the energy to reverse the portal. Of course that would be assuming that rat would survive and find the gem and means of using it, all of very unlikely probability. Wouldn't you agree?"
"NO WAY! It can't take THAT long to repair this pathetic ship!"
Gene nodded as Aisha shook in fury at their dilemma. The hunt had definitely taken a turn for the worse, and Gene could barely conceal his own frustration over the escaped bounty. Most of the GX3 was severely damaged, but fortunately the rental agency had provided a good few repair bots in case of such hazards. These spider-like mechanisms were programmed to survey damage and equipped with retinal scanners, welding devices, and other such gadgets for recovery. Gene had hesitated in his purchase of these robots (the new technology was a bit pricey, but surprisingly affordable), but now he was more than glad he had done so.
The two were so preoccupied with the ship that they had barely done more than glance at the surrounding desert. The area seemed a bit dead anyway, and the ship's vital indicator had been trashed in the fall. Some of the more base software on the ship was still operating, and did in fact indicate the planet's environment could support life to a certain degree.
"You'll just have to be patient. I can get this bucket-of-bolts off the ground and find some civilized planet, but it will take time. I have no idea how fast these things operate, but if it's anything like the old man said, we may be here for a while."
"Well, perhaps we should go find SOMEONE to help us, numbskull!"
"Out here? In the middle of nowhere? Yeah, sure..."
"I'd rather try than sit in here all day!"
Suffice to say, Aisha was not the type to sit around all day. Neither was Gene, but his willingness to get off the ground drove him to focus. The sooner the ship was back in order the sooner they could get back to the rest of the crew. Perhaps if they were lucky, the enigmatic gate they had passed through would still be operational by the time they could leave.
"Well, I'm not stopping you."
"WHAT?!"
"You heard me, if you want to risk getting eaten by some sand-creature go ahead. It'll make my job quieter."
"Oooooh, you will pay for that Gene! When I get back with a crew to help us lift off, you will be in MY debt. See ya!"
The ctarl-ctarl left in a fury, mumbling as she stalked off into the bleak desert. Meanwhile, Gene walked to the small interior storage room of the GX3, and attempted to activate one of the few repair bots. Under the metal frame, he discovered a small silver switch.
"Well, I'll give it a shot."
He pulled the tiny piece of metal. Almost immediately, uncontrolled, free electric currents sprang from the spider-bot, coming dangerously close to shocking the space traveler. Gene backed away quickly.
"Ah!"
The motor, or whatever powered the metallic creature, began to whir in a manner unlike any sort of machine Gene had heard before. Suddenly the sound died along with the flashy light show, and dark smoke began to emit from the anomaly. A look of distaste struck Gene.
"Crap, this is gonna' be harder than I thought…"
Walking through the desert did little to calm the disorder raging through Grave's mind. His rest was merely a dream to be broken by the dusty disturbed planet. And now that he was awake, he had no reason to act, nothing to protect, nothing to accomplish. His war was over, and his continued existence remained, in his opinion, fruitless.
He blinked, his thought broken by the appearance of a small town on the horizon. It was in his path, and as he came upon it, his first impression was that of order. The scene appeared to be that of a typical western television show he may have watched as a youth. Many wore cowboy hats, carried revolvers on their hips, walked briskly to their destinations, and greeted each other with country accents. Outside a couple saloons, Grave spotted a few card-players.
But something was not quite right. People said little other than "howdy" or the like. Mothers herded children inside in a quick manner, and not out of fear for Grave's intimidating appearance. Despite his slightly outlandish colors, very few seemed surprised by him, something he did not expect. No one even seemed bothered by the massive, puzzling coffin-shaped weapon slung over his shoulder. He found an unarmed gentleman passing by him.
"Hello."
"Hullo chap."
"Could you direct me to the gunsmith in this town, sir?"
The man pointed to a small shop on the corner of the intersecting street.
"Thanks."
"No problem, stranger."
Grave felt as though he had missed some major event. Or perhaps this was the calm before the storm.
The legendary gunman found himself in the dusty interior of the town's jail. His hands bound in chains, he did little other than think of the blue-haired man's intent. Eyeing the bright moons outside the small window of his cell, he allowed the cryptic words to echo in his mind:
'It's a little farewell gift. I'll just leave it here… I'm afraid your life is going to end, today.'
A terrible thought sprang from Vash's most painful of memories.
Is he after the sixty billion double-dollars? No… Is it him?!
The prisoner's heart wrenched and throat dried instantly at the realization. The abnormal sunlight, the crimson stain on the desk, and finally the smell of smoking debris coming from the rubble all resurfaced to haunt the gunman. As the past reminders of the ruined city returned, the door to his dark chamber slowly opened. It seemed the night brought visitors.
"Um, Mr. Vash?"
The insurance agents were received with a demonic visage contradicting everything they had believed about their new friend. Millie stumbled back frightened, bumping into her coworker. Meryl tried to ignore what she had just seen.
"Oh hi, is everything alright here?"
"Oh, it's just you."
Vash had quickly reverted back to the caring soul they knew. Perhaps the monster the girls briefly witnessed was merely a hallucination, or flash of illness from the situation.
"Vash… I'm so sorry about all of this but will you please stay here just for today? We'll come for you tomorrow, I promise."
"That's nice, thank you, but don't go out of your way for me, okay?"
"As far as I know, you're innocent and haven't done anything wrong."
"I need some time to think right now."
He averted his attention to the ground and offered a quaint smile that only faintly concealed his chaotic state. Millie then approached the barrier enclosing Vash with a concerned expression.
"Um… hey Mr. Vash?"
"Yes?"
He kindly turned to Millie.
"Actually… actually it's nothing!"
Laughing nervously she discarded her question. Uncertain what Millie meant to imply, Meryl turned to face her coworker and criticized her odd behavior.
"What does THAT mean Millie?!"
"Actually it means nothing!"
Her hands clasped her head in an uneasy manner. Before Meryl had a chance to embarrass her friend any more a series of loud "thumps" sounded nearby. It did little to disturb Millie, but Meryl took note, as did Vash.
"What? What was that?"
A strangle cocking noise confirmed Vash's fears.
"GET DOWN!"
Grave had not expected the shop to carry the exact ammunition he required, but he was pleasantly surprised. Then again, it may not have been too odd that this Gunsmoke took great care in weapon diversity. Perhaps the wasteland did not encourage people to work together to pool resources, but instead made them fight over what little was there.
It had turned to night rather quickly; perhaps that was just the way of this new world. People still acted with the reserved, yet polite, silence displayed at his arrival. Only now, there appeared to be more people walking about. Maybe night was the time of leisure here.
The newcomer's contemplation was interrupted by the sound of gunfire. The noise was like that of a machine gun, or a similar weapon. Grave walked briskly toward the location where he believed the shots were fired, and spotted smoke coming from a building. He continued to approach cautiously, and saw for a brief moment an armed man spring out, followed by a much larger man in a purple suit and odd cylindrical arm-cannons. The backpack device looked entirely foreign to Grave, but he was almost certain that man had fired the shots earlier.
After mumbling something (Grave barely made out his mouth moving), he ran in pursuit of his prey. He did not wish to play vigilante, but he could not help but be interested in what exactly was unfolding. Grave began to trail the giant, not too concerned whether or not he knew of his presence; he seemed too focused on his target anyway.
The blond-haired man fleeing was armed with a silver revolver, but did not fire back. Instead he seemed to purposely ward people out of his way while avoiding the automatic rounds. Finally, the chase ended as the pursuer stopped in the middle of a street. It was apparent he was sick of running with the giant contraption on his back.
"Still helping others at a time like this? You are weak... if you have any expectations of staying alive you better use them as a shield! And don't worry, it all be over soon anyway."
His target was not in his sights, but he still looked ready to attack. The strange back device rotated, proving Grave's hypothesis that it somehow redirected a new belt of ammo to the cylindrical machine-guns.
"NOW'S THE END OF VASH THE STAMPEDE! You and this town die TOGETHER!"
Now Grave could justify in intervention—the matter now was one of self-defense. In an instant, he showed himself, and three heavy rounds pumped from the Cerberus aimed at the top barrels of the giant's left cylinder. Smoke and sparks came from the partly broken device, and the giant's hell-bent expression was soon wracked with frustration.
"Who the hell are you?!"
He had drawn his cannon to his chest as a shield and means to prevent more disrupted barrels. Grave replied merely with a cold look. Then he took aim and fired once more toward the big man's leg. A splatter of blood stained the ground and the purple suit.
"Grah! Damn you!"
The shot had the opposite effect than what Grave anticipated. The man ignored the painful jolt in his leg and began to charge toward him at an incredible pace, utilizing the broken cannon as a shield from fire. Grave barely caught a glimpse of his angry face before the metal cylinder slammed into him, sending him and his coffin into the nearby building. Taking him for dead, the aggressor took aim, destroying the other structures surrounding him with his fully-operating right arm-cannon, catching several civilians in the crossfire.
Grave could only hear and see part of this from the ruined pile of debris that covered him. There was little he could do now, and thought it best to play dead while he tried to piece together his intentions. Not long after the dust settled, he heard a sinister laugh.
"I did it! I did it! So much for the legendary outlaw! He was nothing! He died like a coward! At last, at last I'm free! Now I can live the way I want to live!"
He continued to laugh, until he was interrupted by gunfire. The bullets hit his helmet directly- if not for that small barrier he would have been dead. Grave could barely make out the silhouette, but believed it was the man he was pursuing earlier. One more shot fired, but the giant dodged it with a massive leap, scaling the building behind him despite the wounded leg- an incredible feat.
Though he was aware the red-coated man was nearby and had returned fire at last, he did not hear him move from his spot. The only sound Grave could make out was the distant shuffling of feet, as though someone was helping an injured person.
"Mr. Vash..." said a soft voice.
The name did not sound common, but he thought he may have seen it on a few posters back in New Oregon. The red-coated man could very well have been an infamous outlaw by the incredible aim, speed, and power of his revolver.
"Stay back!"
Finally Grave could hear his voice distinctly, and noted the alarm in the tone.
"Stay away from me."
Then he heard a slow steady pacing; the gunman seemed to be walking away from the scene. Grave was unsure whether he was leaving to pursue the hunter or flee to find his own strategy for dealing with the man in the purple-suit. What Grave did know was his uncomfortable position had grown far more irritating as lying under the rubble began to stress his superhuman body.
Slowly he began to rise from the landing spot, shards of the former construction pouring from the greater debris above him. Soon, the heavier ruins fell mercifully from his shoulders to the ground, and he heard the gasps of two women who had witnessed his recovery as the dust began to kick about his eyes. Fortunately, his body had not sustained any damage heavy enough to cause a problem. The only signs of trouble could be seen in a couple tears in his elaborate suit, and even those were minor.
"Uh uh… um….. Are you okay mister?"
Grave tipped his hat and gave a slight nod, appreciative of the brunette lady's concern for his health. A bit of dust slid out of the concave region of the cowboy-style hat. He was more interested in the gunman who had just left.
"That man… is he a friend of yours?"
The two hesitated for a minute, most likely still intrigued at his rapid recovery.
"Well… we know Mr. Vash… but he is not quite himself right now."
Despite the surrounding corpses, Milly offered a weak smile wrapped in the same nervous feeling she had earlier. Though uncertain what she meant, Grave replied with his own smile, and his usual soft tone.
"Will you two be okay?"
"We probably should be asking you that question, Mr…"
"Grave."
A strange look crossed Meryl's face before she continued.
"…Grave. How did you survive all that without even a small scratch?"
He could see that the blue-haired woman who spoke to him was not only concerned, but exhausted as well. Grave could see the fresh bruise on her face.
"I am sorry, but I must be going."
And so Grave began to approach the other side of town, carrying his coffin and Cerberus, aware of the two girls who stared as he walked away.
Minutes passed as Grave searched the streets for signs of either combatant earlier. Now that he was involved, he wanted to know what was going on, or maybe even conclude the matter. When he heard machinegun fire behind him, he realized the two had found each other.
This time the rounds sounded different. Turning, he could see that now the purple-suited villain was sporting a massive (almost ridiculously so) machinegun, and firing into the town bank. Then in a brief instant, Grave caught the sight of a massive metal safe-door shooting out from the building. The wheel collided with the gunner, throwing him off balance, and launching the door into the air.
In two more quick flashes while the door was still airborne, Grave saw the gun's metal frame come apart. Soon the reason for this malfunction revealed himself; the red-coated gunman had been riding the wheel.
"You have no more bullets, coward!"
Then Grave learned the reason for the gun's incredible size—it also functioned as a rocket launcher. What happened next, though, was even more astonishing. At the instant the giant fired, this "Vash" as his friends called him, had produced another gun—this one attached to his arm (or more precisely was his arm). In a single shot he neutralized the rocket, and knocked the giant over, causing him to lose both his gun and helmet in the process.
In a twist of events the hunter became the hunted, the prey became the predator, and ultimately the legendary Vash the Stampede finally lost his patience.
"You will pay… You will pay for this!"
"They're dead. People are dead."
The night once illuminated by the gunfire of the combatants was still and deceptive. What Monev once believed to be a weak, simple target approached him in the form of the Diablo. Fear gripped him for the second time that night, but now he lacked the means to slay the demon that approached. His tongue defied his mind's state.
"Who the hell cares?"
His question was answered immediately with a punishing kick to the exposed face. Again the Gale was struck down. The outlaw then quickly thrust his lethal appendage to the eye of his fallen foe.
"You killed all the people! You killed them all!"
The giant merely responded with a weak, guttural whine.
"And you were the one solely responsible for all their deaths… Now you are also going to DIE!"
"Don't kill me! Please don't kill me! I'm sorry… I don't wanna' die!"
It greatly surprised Grave that the red-coated man took mercy on the giant. The Goliath was spared, at least for now, anyway.
Almost suddenly light was restored to the small town; Grave would still have to adjust to the new day/night system of the planet. The rising sun glinted off the metal barrel of the man's integrated weapon as he walked back to the crowd. He stopped to say something briefly to the fallen warrior, then continued to approach the crowd. Passing the girls, he stopped in front of Grave, and raised his head with a smile, radically altering his mood.
"Thank you for trying to help back there. I hope you're okay."
A look of disappointment crossed his face. He had not been able to protect the townspeople. Even his honed skills were not enough to fully stop the chaos that would persist in this new world. But when this man had been able to corner the foe, he had not punished him with more than the sensation of fear. If Grave, or any of his old friends, had had the chance, the assassin would have been executed. Was it safe to allow the bested fighter to walk? Something in the way the purple-suited fiend left the town told Grave he would never return.
"So, are you Vash?"
"Yes," replied a weak voice.
Sweat began to bead on the gunman's forehead. Thinking back, his face did look quite similar to a few flyers he saw as he left the hospital. The man really was an outlaw. Grave held out his hand.
"You can call me Grave. Traveling?"
The sly smile and wink Grave offered was enough to tell Vash he was very aware of his status. He gave a slight nod.
"That's a… strange name mister."
"I am unfamiliar with these parts, and would appreciate it if I could join you on a trip to a bigger city. Meet me in front of the saloon tomorrow morning. I am sure your… friends would feel safer with an extra gun."
Meryl's forehead began to twitch as she turned the strange man, filled with a strange expression between surprise and mild anger.
"Do you mean to imply something Mr. Grave?"
The man carrying the giant… thing on his back gave a slight chuckle before he turned to head back away from the battle scene.
"I will see you tomorrow," he said as he left.
Millie retained a smile through the encounter.
"Well, he seems like a nice person."
"What are you talking about Millie? He has to be after the bounty! I bet that weird thing on his back is some sort of weapon. We can't trust him! Can we Vash? Vash…?"
Vash shook his head.
"When I was fighting Monev, I noticed he was following us around. He had many opportunities to attack me, but did not take them. Unless he is planning to fight me tomorrow…"
"Whaz zat even necessary? You know zat hurts."
His thick German accent marked his frustration, rubbing the spot where he had been shot mere moments before.
The red-clad vampire merely grinned in response to what appeared to be a dog-eared boy. Seras was not entirely comfortable with the company of her former enemy.
"Why did they even send you with us?"
"How should I know?" Schrődinger replied with a shrug.
"Our war is over… for now… we should be more concerned with finding out where we are."
The night seemed to be going quickly. The group hurried through the desert, in search of the nearest town before sunlight came. There they could learn more of their environment and regain their strength. Seras seemed anxious. She had spent some time in sunlight since her transformation, but it had weakened her greatly. And what of this planet's sun? What if even Alucard would struggle under its power?
"Don't think such rot. If anything it will be a mere bother to our kind."
"What?!"
In the long desert trip the old immortal had begun to find pleasure in reading and responding to Seras' thoughts, and in the process confusing the "boy".
"Are you sure of that master? From what we learned weren't there two?"
"Yes, but realize that our potential has grown in our slumber, though we may be hungry now. A couple balls of hot air will do little to stall us.
"Ah, the sun."
The werewolf finally caught on. Then he saw something far away.
"See that? It looks like a hint of civilization."
Alucard paused.
"Yes. It seems we may have a few more bites to drink before the end of the night."
Seras cleared her throat, realizing that from then on there would be no more chilled packs of anonymous medical blood. She would have to feed from human victims, living or dead, guilty or innocent.
"Do not let it bother you police girl. There are ways of letting your meal live."
He gave a small laugh as they approached the town, the dawn breaking with their arrival.
Even they did not detect the stranger observing them from afar in great detail. The purple-robed figure focused to track their movements and sounds. His hands were posed tensely as he meditated, drawing forth the greatest of his arcane potential to both sense presence and mask his own.
The tension left him as they entered the town. Muscles relaxed, and the young-looking man drew a sigh of relief. Then a grin formed between his unique braided locks of long black hair. The grin grew to an open smile as it stretched across his face, and soon he burst into sudden, haunting laughter.
"Wonderful…" he muttered as he twisted his hands to form puzzling yet precise gestures.
A tiny rift ripped in midair before him, tearing at the seams of reality to establish an otherworldly portal. It expanded, and began to form the image of a cruel, cold face with dark messy hair. It began to speak with a piercing expression, demanding respect and authority.
"Give me your report agent."
The voice was deep and sounded even more distorted than usual. The spell-weaver was aware his boss was short on patience.
"The trigger has awoken, and one of the three is here, just like you said. In fact, I feel the second has just arrived as well."
"Good work. But I would recommend keeping your distance from the trigger. Your powers are nothing compared to his. Remember you are merely an amateur right now."
The summoner's eyes narrowed, but in his mind he knew this was true.
"Remember, you have been called here to make sure the operation runs smoothly, not to involve yourself. Only intervene should it save the mission. Also, remember you are only a mercenary; you will have to prove yourself to earn a place in our ranks, Gulukai."
"I understand sir."
"Then proceed with your mission. Contact me again when you feel a progress report is necessary."
The rift closed itself, sewing back the edges of the forsaken realm. Silently, the sorcerer followed the group to town, but dared not take the same path.
Hope you liked it! I'll get to work on Chapter 3 as soon as I can.