Metal screeches and sparks fly between the clashing of their weapons, neither of them losing their will and returning fire with twice the ferocity of the other. Since their brief conversation earlier, Anzi and Hachigo were having a death match, spilling the other's blood with bruises marking their face and arms and some swelling on the spot where the blood trickled. During the battle, they both shed their previous armor and were wearing nothing but the outfits they knew best: their octoling soldier armor that allowed for better speed and mobility but at the cost of their defenses weakening with so much skin exposed. As a consequence of that vulnerability, their fight got more intense. Hachigo's dual daggers were destroyed in the process after crossing blows with Anzi's scythe, but it wasn't without a price, as Anzi found her body slashed a dozen times during the exchange. After that, Hachigo decided to bring out her gun while she had Anzi down, but the Grand Elite seemed to ascend to a new level in response. And now, they stare down the other breathing ragged with their concentration also taking a toll. For Hachigo, she was able to stay in this fight because of the experience she had in facing opponents far stronger than Anzi and in much dire situations, at once even saving the entire coast of Inkopolis as one of her feats, and for Anzi, her dormant abilities and drive were reawakened after so long that her body felt lighter the longer this exchange went. Hachigo analyzes her opponent, noting the spots she applied the most damage which were her scratched up abdomen and arms, and the big swell just below right eye near the cheek and an open cut on her nose. Anzi also assessed the condition of her opponent, noting the open cut across her for forehead and the several bruises covering her body. Hachigo holds up her wrist and unwraps the plasma whip, using her free hand to grab the small device on her back. As she brings it to front holding it like a handle, a purple light appears in the form of a shield; Anzi winds her Scythe and plants one foot forward. Hachigo braces herself, enduring a cutting gust that slashes at her skin and clothing, even putting marks on her breast plate and boots. Next thing she knows, the figure before her is gone, then comes a black shadow and several spinning slashes. A lucky thing she brought out her shield, as not only does she survive the flurry, but Anzi follows up with a vertical slam that bounces Hachigo into rolling away. Completing the roll to land on her feet, Hachigo switched from her whip to the gun and emptied the clip, shooting several times to keep Anzi away. The Grand Elite drags her scythe on the floor for a moment and creates sparks, then jumping and hopping along the air using her scythe as a wheel to close the distance before propelling towards Hachigo, blocking the bullets on the way there. Hachigo twirls her gun back to her hip and brings out her whip, ready for a close encounter. Anzi opens up with a dozen ferocious swings, Hachigo parries them by whipping at her with the same speed. Her snakelike plasma whip is used again to try and grab her, but Anzi brings down her scythe with a slam and cuts off the path. The tiles below Hachigo rumble followed by a crack, wind bursting from under the cracked tiles. Hachigo's luckily foresaw her move and escaped damage in time, in response bringing out her gun yet again and firing more shots that are easily deflected with the twirl of the scythe. The two once again stare each other down, both showing signs of fatigue from the sweat forming to their pulsating hands, arms, and legs that were asked to do so much in the form of power swings and holding up the shield.

Anzi raises her chin to take in some air, "The next time..."

"...Will be the last." Hachigo finished with her chin lowered, showing her glare.

The next time they clash, it'll decide the victor. A test of might, of experience, and quickness, the Grand Elite Anzi and Agent 8 would settle it once and for all. Also occurring in the room a little ways off is the third and final fight that involved Sky and Jonah taking on Weiden of the Grand Elites. "Hiyaaa!" Jonah bellows, bringing his fist down with a slam and quaking the trail to Weiden; the Grand Elite isn't fazed by the feeble attempt of Jonah, and instead kept his guard on the bright blue eyed girl rushing at him with a spear. Sky looks possessed with that familiar glow, performing a trio of thrusts and lunges followed by a spin and pull of her gun in his blind spot, shooting for his face that he so narrowly avoids thanks to the precision of his reflexes; a moment later and he would've been done for. Jonah tags in for Sky as she takes the rear, and here comes the monstrous power of the captain. No longer could he bully the captain like he did earlier with the intensity he carried now. He only had one arm, but his strength and concentration allowed him to turn that lone arm into a weapon equal of a sword. Jonah starts swinging wildly, flailing his only arm like a whip and charging at Weiden, who's stuck to defending against such a rush; sure enough, the only thoughts Weiden had were of amazement, impressed at how different the situation became with just the words of a young girl being enough to ignite a fire in Jonah that he'd only recall in memories of the distant past. The reckless before him fighting with such intensity resembled the legendary warrior he fought alongside way back then. Weiden smirks with gratitude that he could see this irreplaceable sight once again and feel such a chill like he did when he was younger: nothing riled him up like fighting the strongest of opponents. From Anzi to May, and even the late great Nali and Hatu. This fight against a one armed Jonah and rookie inkling were surely up there in his all time greatest fights.

"Keep going!" he shouts with glee, a glittering shine in his pupils with thirst for more. In response he shifts the grip on his hilt to a one arm and changes his posture with that imposing glare of his locking on the duo.

May and Han were also still in battle. After closing the distance and finally going to melee combat, May dominated the bout by having him scrambling on defense; he couldn't muster an offense while forced to survive her onslaught of attacks. Combining his substitution techniques and keeping afloat with crafty usage of his kunai and shuriken, he's finally forced to use his dagger the moment she finds an opening; she reveals her sword at that moment. Han's instincts ran rampant, sensing the threatening glare she gave and understanding that this was her forte. Unable to run away this time around, Han surprises her and powers through, pushing her off. May's surprised at the sudden change in his attitude since she assumed that his ninja tactics implied he didn't want to fight straightforward, but it didn't matter to her anyhow, as she'd end this fight soon enough and join the other one with Anzi-interested in taking Anzi's place in fighting Hachigo. Han could read her so clearly and felt disappointed in how he poorly he fought. There was a reason he was chosen to fight May, why everyone entrusted him with that goal. If he fell here and placed that burden on Hachigo, it'd all come crumbling down: the efforts of the others fighting in the palace, of the resistance outside fighting, of those on the surface. With a yell and raising of his arm, Han swore on his pride as a Hayama that he'd defeat her. May heard this and snapped out of her distraction watching the other fight, interested in seeing how much weight the man's words carried.

Outside of the palace, the battles were ongoing as well among the sea of resistance and octarian forces clashing like the roaring waves of the sea against a rocky shoreline. The fight between the team of Roujou and Ayumi versus Darwin continues as the ninja duo continue to have him on the ropes. It's a confusing sight for the octoling as they overwhelm him with their teamwork, using several styles and techniques to keep him reeling and dealing some damage in close quarter combat. Darwin holds his own against them but he can't find that opening he needs to turn the fight around, finding it difficult when their chemistry worked exceedingly well. One after the other in quick succession, Roujou and Ayumi took turns dishing out attacks, blinding him, then attacking, constantly on the move to avoid him targeting one more than the other. Darwin tried to rely on repetition, but with the constant failures in connecting his strikes it more so resembled insanity. A good spot for the two ninja, they started to get comfortable with the flow of the fight and after such a display of dominance, wondered if Denise would even be needed, preferring to let her worry about aiding the others who fell in battle nearby. Little do they know that Darwin was waiting patiently for an opportunity to arrive with his morning star. Slowly but surely, the sharpness of the ninja's attacks dulled in response to their lax attitudes stemming from inexperience. They took their foot off the gas pedal and were on cruise control instead, which gave Darwin enough time to plan a counterattack. Eating the same attacks that once had him reeling, Darwin's morning star soon found speed and then strength, growing wild with each swing its master did. He could read their movements now and predict them like a pattern, his stray swings were finding small targets and connecting and in turn slowing them down. Roujou and Ayumi were looking worn down by the second, the constant movement and attacks were taking a toll on their bodies as they experienced their toughest test ever in a battle not only against Darwin, but against their fatigue. As ninja, they were trained to stay in the shadows, and avoid combat as much as possible, but with every fight they're getting into pushing them to their limits increasingly, the more they are seeing the consequences of abandoning that principle. They weren't built for endurance and despite doing their best to conceal that information, Darwin picked up on it and used it to his benefit. Darwin capitalizes off the pair and unleashes a chain of attacks, going after every part of the body until they're bruised and all in quick succession. Darwin tests their resolve and flips the switch dialing another level of speed, smacking them in the face, body, and spirit with his morning star. The ninja duo don't falter however, continuing to throw attacks from left and right, and shifting to a zone style of attack rather than up close. It wasn't enough to put them back in the fight though, as Darwin lands a monstrous dual strike that knocks them out instantly. Both of them crash to the ground, incapacitated. They might've lost but they did weaken him greatly.

"That rush of adrenaline is gone, huh?" he mumbles, barely able to form a sentence with how tired he is. His eyes half open and his mouth extended to take in as much air as he can, he wheezes while looking at the unconscious pair. "I still need to command the rest...I can't risk failing before her majesty!" The war is still raging on around him, he desperately wanted to give orders, but he can't will his body. Just then, a deadly scent alarms him that wakes him up from his fatigue. Entering from stage right comes the main healer of the resistance, also known as the 5th Leg. Carrying a devastating aura around her, Darwin felt his skin crawl as she slowly approaches him with a sinister aura masked by a heavenly glow.

Denise flashes an angelic smile, "Oh my, looks like I was a little late." she said in a light tone. Darwin keeps silent, watching her carefully. After a few seconds, he felt a terrible pain in his neck and collapsed, his body twitching furiously with foam at the mouth. Denise walks over with radiance, "Looks like I didn't even have to get serious. Those two brave young souls did all the work." she giggled, pulling out the tiny needle sunken deep in his neck. "You see, this little thing here is highly concentrated poison-though it's not very lethal unless you hit a certain part of the body. I'm still researching it, but I've deduced that when it makes contact with the body, the best place to use it for murder is the upper half, more specifically the head and neck; Darwin's neck began swelling purple, his head turning purple and red, struggling to breathe in the process while doing so. His eyes were wide open as if begging for mercy, wildly digging into the ground. "Looks like you have a few seconds left." her eyes narrow; "Suffer." her tone changed, the smile disappearing and nothing but a cold vengeful glare remaining. As the 5th Leg of the resistance, her power wasn't as notable compared to the upper Legs, but there was a reason she held a position in the top half. As a medical professional, she knew a great detail about drugs and poison and worked to make serums and potions to assist the resistance. She hated to kill to and to see violence, but in the case of Darwin and the Royal Guardsmen, she'd do anything to remove them.

The struggling ended immediately, but the twitching didn't. His head swelled so badly he looked like an overgrown fruit, and his mouth had so much foam it looked like he ate soap. In his final moments, his only thoughts were on how she was able to pierce him with the needle in the first place. It couldn't have been any time soon, since he would've seen her but what about during the fight? He didn't see her at all. Searching through every moment up to this point, he remembered at the very beginning that she was with them. It felt like forever ago with how the fight went but he remembered that she was present just before running off to assist others. Was it at that time? He'd never find out, as he died just before reaching the answer. Denise looks over at the two ninjas who fought hard and lightly taps them on the cheek, reminding them that though the battle is over, the war is still going. As she helps the pair to their feet to continue their mission, around that same time somewhere else were her comrades battling just as hard. A battle between the team of Sigmund and Faye against Finn, the pair are locked in a brisk exchange with the skilled duelist. His robust movements of the body are so light yet precise that though they were powerful strikes, there was enough accuracy to feel like a cannon at full power. Sigmund and Faye worked well in rotating their positions and keeping a manageable distance, careful not to let the complete extension of his body work in his favor if they were in a closer range. Finn however used his experience to his advantage and reminded them why he was a skilled dual wielder. A powerful twirl and deflection of their counterattacks, Finn's legs generated the same power as his arms, cutting through the through the air like his spear. Sigmund notices the shift in his demeanor and takes command of defense, preferring Faye to support him in a blind spot. Finn's heels dig in and then lift with ferocity serving a vicious swing that aims for Sigmund's head. Whether it was his skill in battle or the amazing reflexes and senses he possessed, he instantly went in for a block with his forearms and avoided the dangers of a head shot. It was all in an instant but he maneuvered his second spearhead tucked under his body and sliced him in the abdomen, at an area so small and sensitive that Sigmund had to recoil; with a spin involving the two spears, Finn wacks him on the back of the neck and top of the head and does a high kick to the chest-sending him crashing on his back. Sigmund's body twitches for a moment until he stiffens, from the waist down he's paralyzed. An effective move, Sigmund realized what happened and immediately forced his body into action, rolling himself over onto his belly and using his chin to try and drag himself. Unfortunately, just as he forced his body into a workable position, he's frozen-the effects of his paralysis proving to strong. Finn turns his attention to the surprised Faye, and targets her now that the rhythmic pattern of their attack has been interrupted severely. Faye isn't fazed by the sudden turn of events, but she's wary of Finn's resurgence as he goes to work in utilizing the most out of his dual spear style; even though he could handle two people at once with this style, it was most effective against a single opponent, especially one who didn't use a sword. The desperate grunts of Faye fending him off, the growing laughter of a mad Finn finally lashing out after being on the ropes the entire fight, Sigmund's stomach felt sick with the torture of watching Faye fight alone. His legs felt like cinder blocks, a rush of blood goes to his head with a pulsating sensation. He wriggles and wriggles with a savage look trying to break free, but all it does is offer entertainment for Finn, who jokes about his futile efforts while dishing a dozen flurries at Faye. Sigmund grinds his teeth together, counting down the seconds until the paralysis wears off. From what Finn hinted, he gauged that the stun effect should last a couple of minutes. Each second felt like an agonizing hour with the way the fight was turning, praying the next two minutes are instant and allow him to aid Faye in time. Finn looked over with arrogance, wondering how Sigmund must feel being helpless in such a critical moment. A battle between absolute offensive and pure defense, Finn can feel the moment approaching where he'll pierce her defenses, and likewise did Faye believe she could hold out long enough for Sigmund to come back and join her; in this fight, it was important that they worked as a team rather than individuals.

Not here! Her mind shouts with desperation, planting her feet and guiding away the lunging spears that he twirled around like props. I still have something I must tell him! Finn times the drop of his spear after the high throw and launches it with the one in his hand, sending it flying with an immense force right past Faye with warning; he's coming in for the kill at any moment. Faye looks over at the brutal eyes of Sigmund that desperately scream to her to stay alive, to keep focused and endure, believing in her more the most.

It all started when they first met in the resistance as members of the 8 Legs. They were both within the resistance for a little bit but had never met due to their posts being on opposite sides of the country, but when they were named as Jonah's elite force, their lives changed forever. Always at odds with each other, they bickered and quarreled like an old married couple. Sigmund was childish in her eyes with a profound level of immaturity that kept him from being an otherwise handsome guy, and in Sigmund's view, Faye was too uptight and stern to ever be looked at as desirable. Despite that, they had the best chemistry within the entire resistance with an affinity for the other so strong that even Captain Jonah poked fun at their relationship and often joked that they must've been lovers in a past life. Every single time, Sigmund would brush it off as the captain just teasing him but for Faye, those words started to ring some truth. She often wondered how it was that although they were always at odds, they still stuck together? Whenever she asked Sigmund about it, he'd tense up and change the subject which only made her more suspicious. In that time, she stopped seeing him as less of a comrade and more as a man, noticing that under that exterior laid more than meets the eye. The more she talked with him and learned about his past and his ambitions, the more she fell. What sealed the deal for her affection wasn't his unmatched strength and naive approach to things that she thought to be cute-though she'd never say it to his face, but rather, the insecurities he possessed that he used as fuel as motivation. One night when they were on a mission, he opened up about his faults as a member of the 8 Legs. He was jealous of everyone: of Porter and Veronica's closeness with Jonah, of Hatu's poker face and alpha presence, Denise's ability to smile no matter what, and of Felix and Abraham's aptitude in their fields despite being the youngest members of the group. His goal was to become a reliable member to the group, and though Denise assured him that he's an irreplaceable member, he went further. He wanted to become an unbreakable weapon, one with unmatched offense and defense, one that could be used as the first option and take care of anything. He wanted to become someone that others could look up to, he wanted to become a legend and forever have his name engraved in history. His tone, his demeanor, it all was so bright it left her blind. It was the first time she was ever left speechless by him, and it was at that moment that she knew she wanted to fight to help him reach his goal, to support him in any way she could while at the same time grow to find her own purpose as well.

Every day was an adventure after that, even when under the notion that at any moment they could lose their lives in battle. She enjoyed life more than ever when she spent time with Sigmund, appreciating their dynamic more and more and even giving him a pet name, though he was very opposed to it and often got abrasive when she used it playfully. What started as just a faint feeling bloomed into something greater, and every day she wanted to confess her feelings. But with war looming and their attention turned to the future, the more of an inconvenience it seemed to bring up something like that. Up to today, she's had much to wrestle with from the anxiety of war to mourning the loss of her comrades that she buried those feelings until this very moment. The reality of life and death apparent after what she's witnessed, regret grew in her heart and mind like a cancer grows. Her movements grow slower, her senses dull, and occupied with wrestling her emotions. In an instant, she gasps after hearing name called by Sigmund in a pained scream. She looked over at him instantly and thought something happened to him, but upon seeing how pale he looked with terror, her skin crawls and she remembers Finn-darting her attention ahead, but he isn't there. She felt a cold sensation in her stomach, like ice was churning rapidly. Her eyes lower, and seeing a spearhead emerging from her belly along with drops of blood dripping to the floor, she realized. Impaled from behind by one of Finn's spearheads, her head felt light, and her body off balance. Finn caught her slipping and did a swim around to make the critical hit after finally breaching her defenses, and doing so all in a matter of seconds. Faye's in disbelief at how she allowed this to happen, though little did she know that Finn could've gone for a more lethal strike. He chose to strike her there because he could see the life in her eyes in those brief seconds, the eyes of a girl who was in love, who had someone she wanted live and fight for. It almost pained him to rob her of that life, almost, that is. Sigmund snarls like a wild beast with veins covering his face and his eyes bloodshot, his voice cracking terribly as vows to kill Finn the moment he's free; His face drops the moment he watches Faye fall to the ground with little resistance with a puddle forming around her open wound.

His eyes are full of sorrow staring at the girl's lifeless body, "I was only carrying out the orders of her majesty. Perhaps in another life, your wishes will come true." he utters, flicking the blood off his spearhead and turning his sights to Sigmund, who shouted for him to get away from her with a crazed look. In a few seconds, the rabid octoling would have a chance to score his revenge. All he can see is red, the image of despair when Faye realized she lost replaying in his mind over and over. His legs have feeling again, his arms have power once more, and his voice bellows a cry for war with a murderous glare. Finally released, Sigmund goes berserk and rushes at Finn, throwing caution to the wind as he swiftly avoids the thunderous lunges of Finn and strikes him straight to the gut, a punch so powerful emanating his rage that Finn coughed up blood immediately; Almost dropping both his spears simultaneously, he tanks the punch and drags his body away from further damage. Sigmund isn't so merciful though, as he once again closes the gap and throws a right elbow to his chin, followed by a left palm strike to the chest and a dozen punches, he ends the chain with a leg sweep and grab one of his spears during mid fall and stabs him in the same spot he impaled Faye, and with more power, wedging the spear so deeply in him that is goes through his torso and plants him in the ground. They exchange glares, the wild irises of Sigmund swirling in a rage as it met the painful irises of Finn. Sigmund sprints to Faye's side and holds her up, doing his best to keep her conscious. Her hands are trembling and her voice is shaken as well, but through it all, she's trying hard to be brave much like him whenever he was nervous.

"I-I'm fine, Sig. Really, I am." she assured him with a pained look, doing her best to smile for him, but he knew different from the growing blood staining her clothes.

Tears begin falling down his face, "Not here. Not here! NOT AGAIN!" he screams, already blaming himself for Hatu and Abraham's death. He felt that if he'd been stronger, he'd have been able to assist them and possibly prevent their deaths, though even so it'd have been impossible given the circumstances.

"I'm touched you're finally looking at me." Faye giggles, wincing in pain but trying her best to lighten up the mood; "Don't worry about me. Finish off the enemy."

"You matter more!" he shouts.

Faye blushed heavily, almost wanting to laugh at how sincere he was. Staring at him with all the light left in her irises, she brings her hand to his face and wipes away his tears, "I love you, idiot."

He gently holds her hand close to his face and wept and rocking, his voice cracking as he struggle to breathe. "A thousand times. I'll tell you every morning, and every night. I'll never leave your side, Faye. So please, stay with me! It'll be fine, okay? Denise will come here and heal you-it'll be fine." he looks around at the sea of battle and tries to find her; "Denise! DENISE!" he screams desperately at the top of his lungs, his heart growing anxious as he felt the warmth in Faye's body depart, and the light in his eyes fading as watches her smiling expression weaken. "Please, no…"

"Sig…" she whispers, barely able to keep her eyes open and much less speak.

"Don't speak! Save your strength. We'll make it through this, okay? We're members of the 8 Legs! We're comrades! We're Friends! We're-"

"I love you." she whispers with the last of her breath, at peace that she finally told him how she felt, and knew that he reciprocated.

"No…no no no no no no no!" Sigmund shakes his head, bringing her in close for a hug. He felt rage, he felt despair, he felt sadness, but he didn't know which one to select. Wiping away his tears, he stands up and prepares to call the doctor's name again, "Deni-"a pair of spearheads pierce his torso from behind.

Brought down to his hands, he looks behind to see an exhausted Finn use the last of his strength in removing those spears and throwing them at him. His mind carries no thoughts, body moving on its own. Arching his back, he give a piercing scream pulling out both spears from his back and leaking puddles of blood immediately. There's no turning back for him any longer. A sharp red gaze burning in his sockets, nothing but a radiant flare remains. He rises to his feet, his body straightened like a stone pillar, one step stomping forward with a march. The sounds of battle become hazy, his vision impaired, the piercing pain gone as nothing but a strange and hollow chill spread. The body laid on the floor was already on its last will, the man before him nothing more than a half-dead corpse awaiting death. Towering over the defeated man as the grim reaper, Sigmund's savage eyes locked on him with murderous intent. The one responsible for Faye's death, and for his eventual demise...the least he can do is make him suffer a pain worse than the sweet death he seeks from bleeding out. Grabbing him and sitting him up, Sigmund stabs him repeatedly before piercing the man his neck and head simultaneously. Sigmund can only see red while channeling all the strength left in his body into arms, letting out a final cry before ripping the man's head and neck apart. As blood spatters, staining the ground and his legs alike, he drops the spears with the disconnected pieces and goes blank. Unable to do anything else, all the strength leaves his body. The glow of his skin absent and the light in his eyes gone. A drop to the floor and Sigmund meets his end.

Elsewhere, the team of Porter, Veronica, and Pastelle continue battle against Gnarby. The power of the dual wielder is ferocious as he kept all three of them at bay for most of the fight thus far, but it was apparent that neither side was showing all their cards yet. Pastelle kept to the rear and went in for hits, only attempting to do so a few intervals and usually after small openings created by one of the previous two. Porter and Veronica weren't doing all the much better either as they too struggled to land enough hits on the man who managed to turn his pair of swords into a beast of an offensive weapon and simultaneously a sturdy makeshift shield. If it wasn't enough that Gnarby had the upper hand in the fight so far, he was also on the talkative side with plenty of things to say to them throughout the fight. Some were meant to make them lose their temper and get sloppy on their attacks, while others were specifically aimed at breaking the mentality of Pastelle. In any case, this fight proved challenging in all meaning. At the moment the trio are gathered together deciding on their next attack while Gnarby continues his sword dance, keen on swaying the momentum in their favor.

"He's so full of himself." Veronica growls, irritated by the fight thus far.

Porter nods his head, "It isn't like he's untouchable, but the way he moves with those swords are nothing but red flags. We're too big of targets for his swings, and if one of us goes that will only worsen the situation."

Pastelle holds up a finger, "I can move in closer-"

"NO!" the pair deny in sync, disapproving of the young one risking her life.

"Pastelle, you need to keep your distance of him. Sure, you are a smaller target but he's swift with his movements. If you foolishly take the front, you'll be killed immediately."

"And he knows it too, that's why he's toying with us. He knows that he can handle two people of our caliber with ease and also account for a wild card like you. He thinks he has us beat."

Veronica smirks, "I can't wait to knock him off his high horse."

A brief moment passes of Gnarby's continuous taunting before he's met by a thunderous pressure from Veronica, who came in speeding from overhead like a bullet; at first he was going to do a simple double block but when he noticed only Pastelle remained, his demeanor changed expeditiously and his senses sharpened, careful of his blind spot. As expected, Porter came at him from the rear in addition and the battle was back on with his blocking Veronica overhead with one sword and Porter from behind with the other, stretching his body in an uncomfortable angle. In comes Pastelle like a speeding bullet with her dagger, not a voice or cry uttered as she flew under his radar; if it wasn't for his instincts screaming for him to retreat he would've taken fatal damage. A moment of weakness, Gnarby realized the trio stepped up their game if they were on the same page now. Porter and Veronica don't back down this time and show more aggression, quick on the follow up and invading his personal space; Gnarby's defenses are tested as his sword went from sharp to blunt in the span of a few minutes, unable to counter with a power swing with how quickly they're throwing attacks at him. Like planned, Pastelle keeps her distance and watches with patience for her moment to go in for the kill. She listens to the sounds of battle and uses that as her guide for keeping track, finding it reassuring to hear the struggling Gnarby followed by the energetic Porter and Veronica doubling down. Gnarby's swords moved like his arms, wildly covering quite a range and deadly on the swing. He did hops and double steps to keep the advantage on his side while the others worried about being struck. Though he has two powerful opponents before him, he targets the youngest instead. Porter and Veronica read his mind though, and block him off, continuing their aggressive push and challenging him to step up his speed all while Pastelle makes sure to hold up her end and steer clear of trouble, although she's struggling to keep up with them and their constant movement. Again and again, it's 2-on-1. Porter and Veronica hack away at him, and he returns with wide slashes that could immobilize them instantly. Their plan was to keep him contained and smother him, whereas he already spotted how to crumble their formation. This time taking the lead, Gnarby comes at them strongly leading with his left shoulder and unleashes a monstrous gust, following up with a strike so powerful in felt like the ground beneath it cracked off the near miss. Everything is a blur for all involved, the environment swirling to the increase of speed, sound no longer existing, and only the thoughts and movements becoming the bridge. Gnarby's sword is in position to get driven into Porter's shoulder, but at the last minute his eyes wander to Pastelle, who has her defenses down for the first time. Veronica tracks him and desperately sprints to cover Pastelle, realizing what the enemy was planning. With all his might, Gnarby threw his sword with enough spin for it to curl with remarkable speed; only a few seconds to react. Pastelle only noticed he was missing a sword when she saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye, followed by the splash of blood covering her and a body crashing to the ground. It takes half a second for the pair to react with shock, but Gnarby was glad his plan worked: he brought down their numbers and shattered their guard in one shot.

"Veronica!" Porter screamed, rushing at Gnarby in a fit of rage; Pastelle rushes over to the injured Veronica and slid to her side, examining the injury from the blade. The look of horor on her face told the whole story for Veronica, who knew that the pain she felt was too intense for even her toughness.

"From such a throw…" Pastelle muttered in disbelief, biting her lips unsure of what to do. Inexperienced when it came to first aid, even she could tell the sword struck her in a vital spot, and that there was a likelihood Veronica would die from the trauma of blood loss. The stain of blood spreads rapidly, and there's nothing she can do to stop it. Desperately trying to control the damage, she tears off the sleeves of her shirt and attempts to stop the bleeding, but that wasn't enough. Next she pulled out Hatu's dagger. "...!" with determination, she slits her hand and pours it on the gash, pleading with Veronica to stay with her the moment she catches the light in her eyes diminishing along with her resistance to death. "Please, not again." she whimpers, breaking down.

"Life hasn't treated you kind, huh?" Veronica winces, doing her best to flash a weak smile; "I apologize if I came off as mean to you in the beginning. I have nothing against you, nor your people."

"Please, Veronica don't talk!"

"My time is up. That's just the way it is." She looks up to the sky of artificial light, nothing more than a replica of the real thing; "All of us in the resistance knew, especially the 8 Legs. We all knew that at the end of this road, we'd probably meet an end like this-it's how we got this far to begin with." she looks over to Porter fighting Gnarby with everything he has and then returns to the teary eyed child; "The future is in your hands now. The same way Hatu trusts your friend, I trust you. We didn't know each other for long, nor did I make the effort to accept your kindness. But I am glad that you possess that. The world needs more of you kids, Octaria too. Defeat the queen, and rebuild this country."

"But-"

"You've got the strength to do it."

"How am I supposed to beat that guy?"

"You're fearless. The reason why Porter and I protected you in this fight is because we knew it wasn't us who would beat that man, but you. Look at the weapon in your hand, look at how your size is in comparison to him. Without any distractions, without any dead weight, you can take him. Now, hold out your hand..." Doing as she requests, Pastelle holds out her hand and watches her gently rests her hand on top, "Live."

It was only four letters, but the astronomical impact it had on her brought her to the edge. Her finals words spoken, Veronica died immediately, her last words serving as motivation for Pastelle. In that moment of defeat did she remembered the loss she experienced prior with her little brother, the loss Sky felt for someone she'd only just met, and now the death of Veronica. What made their deaths so tragic was the connections made while alive, and even in the case with Veronica, it was through action rather than words. Pastelle knew Veronica took the attack for her, sacrificing her body so that she could have a second chance at life. In no way would she allow her actions to be in vain. Meanwhile, Porter and Gnarby were still dueling, although it was more of Porter unleashing his rage with plenty of power but a decrease in accuracy, Gnarby nearly lands a deciding strike on the falling Porter. Except for one surprise.

"Huh?"

"Wha-"

Pastelle arrived at the last second and blocked his strike, struggling to overpower him. Porter's quick on the reaction and returns with a wide swing of his own, forcing Gnarby to take a few steps back and recover. "Thanks! I'll make sure the opportunity is made!" Porter said with a reignited fury, now having a clear mind to carry out his objective. He couldn't beat the likes of Gnarby as is, not when he already lost a comrade and had to protect another. What mattered most at a time like this was to focus on his mission, not what comes after. To live and fight another day? Not this group. With his resolve strengthened with no fear of death, Porter's speed and accuracy are back to a high level of concern for Gnarby, as all that sword swinging has him fatigued. He's still able to hold his own and block and dodge, but to even attempt a swing proved unlikely. Porter continues to invade his personal space, landing more and more hits, following after the retreating Gnarby like a homing missile; little did he know what Gnarby was attempting. Pastelle was mindful to keep her distance but still track their movements and wait for her moment to strike, but without another body there to protect her, she was fair game for a surprise attack. As Gnarby's body dipped and shifted momentum to a sudden sprint out of nowhere, Porter realized what he was up to; unlike before, Pastelle was ready for him though. Staring down death in the face as he swings wide with his two swords, Pastelle's fearless eyes lock on him, ready to use her dagger. But before she could take him on, she's blinded by blood once again-this time, Porter's.

"There…! Go for it!" Porter yells as the swords sink into his body, grabbing the arms of Gnarby for the trap. "Finish him!"

A light shines in her eye as the crucial moment presented itself in the worst way possible, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity. Diving for his nape, she slices him-but not clean and deep enough, followed by another few slices at his ankle and back. The pain is immense but he's still got enough strength to kick Porter off and go for Pastelle; Porter stumbles, but catches himself, looking over to Veronica and limping in her direction. Pastelle analyzes Gnarby, confident that she can beat him now that he's immobilized by his slit ankles. Gnarby's arrogance grows stronger now that he's killed one and put the other on death's doormat with only a squirt left in his way, but the moment he attempts to take a step, an immense pain courses through his body, and in a millisecond that sly grin was wiped away. At a grave realization that he cannot move without severely injuring himself he lifts his head with fear looming and a cold sweat, understanding what Pastelle was looking for by going for his ankles. He's met by a cold, grim stare from a girl who looked like she abandoned her morals, at least for this moment precisely. He could feel the heat her hatred gave off, and could see in her dead irises and the dagger she holds that she'll be in his face soon enough. No words can save him, and he can't run away to defend himself. For the first time in his life, he's understanding the true terror of helplessness. Pastelle walked, then began running, changing her grip to one more suited for stabbing. It felt like thunder struck as she jumped into the air and dove at him with an electric glint in her eyes and her fangs bared, screaming at the top of her lungs before piercing his chest; he drops his swords in shock. She quickly pulls out the dagger from his chest and rams it into his leg, then his gut, and repeatedly she rotates her target, doing with such precision and swiftness that Gnarby doesn't have time wail for each strike as another is delivered with greater power. Almost about to fall over from the trauma, Pastelle grabs him by the shirt before he falls and brings him in close, her dagger piercing his chest and leaving the dagger there; he staggers away flinching, knowing that if he pulls it out he'll bleed out instantly and die. Just missing the vital spot, she did so on purpose. She looks over to his two swords and grabs them, doing a couple swings that slice at the back of his knees and drop him bring them to his neck in an "X" position, ready for execution. Her hateful eyes watching him as he begs for mercy, she's savoring his moment of remorse. As an agent of the Squidbeak Splatoon, she knew how to kill, and because of that, Gnarby sensed that if he didn't beg for his life, it's forfeit-she'd actually kill him. Before he can utter a word, his upper lip twitched to a growl and she sliced his head off cleanly. Executed with his own weapons, Gnarby was brought down; the resistance were successful in taking down the three commanders of the second wave, which meant they turn take momentum and drive the finishing blow to the queen. Looking up high with a mixture of relief and melancholy, she looks over to the two bodies lying over hand in hand. Walking over to them holding back her tears, she felt a little bit of happiness to see that at least in his final moments, Porter died smiling beside his comrade. Both sides learn of the deaths for most of the 8 Legs, and the commanding trio alike, but the reactions are different. For the resistance members who witnessed their deaths but couldn't do anything to get in the fight, the felt unnerved at the loss of leadership, opposite of them were the octarians who knew the greater purpose was to serve the queen, and though it hurt to lose valuable commanders, they wouldn't allow their deaths to hinder their united resolve to serve the queen. For those who just emerged from battle, and were doing their best to keep the resistance going-Denise, Roujou, Ayumi, and Pastelle, they all knew now wasn't the time lose composure, instead trying their hardest to maintain morale. The octarians are getting stronger by the second now, launching counterattack and waves of strikes on the wounded hearts of the enemy. Despite their efforts, the resistance didn't have the same flare with their leader away and most of their other commanders gone in battle.

"Don't give up!" a familiar voice calls over the communicators of the remaining members, which prompts Felix back at the sanctuary to question them. He responds, "Here on the orders of Princess Magenta, I'm Aaron of the Elites unit."

Pastelle's face brightened hearing the voice of a friend after all this time underground. To hear someone she knew and trusted, a wave a relief covered her the moment he announced they had reinforcements. Thanks to their victory on the surface and in Ravia, the devices disrupting the connection were gone, which opened the way for them to sneak in. Reinforcements weren't actually in the form of more infantry, but rather as a spark to rejuvenate their side after losing their trusted commanders. After hearing that their own princess still remembered them and sent in help she could rely on, they all caught a second wind and came back with a roaring voice, now finding their purpose once more with this reminder: they're fighting for the sake of their nation, to put someone they cherish and respect on the throne, and in the hearts and minds of them all as they lift their weapons and bring the fight, they knew who that person was. As Aaron arrives with the rest of the Elites, who are all equipped for battle, they locate Pastelle immediately after she told them her whereabouts. Joining up with them, she met up with Denise and the ninja along the way and they all came together, coordinating a plan for the attack. With the toughest opponents out of the way, they all agreed the key point was to swarm the palace and assist Sky and Jonah.

In the throne room…

The battle between May and Han continues, the two transitioning between close combat to the range battle seen so far. May is in control with the way she's able to blend her attacks and mobility, using the arrows as an extension of herself and finding ways to appear everywhere at once with how rapid she fires. Han is on the receiving end of the attacks and much like before, he's dodging with all might but unlike before, he isn't running. Instead, he's analyzing her as she attacks him, putting down his guard at the very last second before evading. He watched her eyes and tracked her movements, careful to observe every little thing from her no matter how minute. From how she instantly reached in her quiver for an arrow to her consistency with favoring the distant range rather than close quarters with her sword, Han absorbed every detail. Like he intended to when he swore on his name, Han flipped the switch and returned to the fiery spirit he showed earlier just before May sent an army of arrows to tip the scales in her favor. In that moment, May sensed the change in his aura and braced herself knowing the fight from here on will be unlike anything she faced against him so far. Where he relied on evasion and zoning in the beginning, Han switched up his style completely and went on the aggressive approach, performing chain moves and using his kunai and shuriken as a distraction, letting their flashy use work to his benefit as he brought out a new type of speed to compete with her all-around talent. May dodges with ease, but she can't perform a counterattack with how quick he's moving. The scene from earlier where she was running him into a corner now seemed to look quite the opposite as he looks to be in control. That doesn't worry her though as she sticks to what works for her and continues letting her arrows find their mark, but Han's moving faster than before and predicting the trajectory of the arrows with such precision that it felt as if she'd been rendered useless with her greatest strength, still that isn't enough to make her panic, switching to her blade as he nears. Han throws a smokescreen to conceal his presence, but May's keen eyes spot where he's looking to run, and just as he's about to make his escape to the right he's met by her cold steel. Han doesn't flinch though, instead guiding the sword away from his body and striking her just below the chest; May felt the wind knock out of her and instinctively retreats holding where she got hit. That woke her up, a fierceness in her glare as she saw his actions as a form of disrespect. Han breathes in, then out-vanishing like the wind as a log replaces him. May holds up her sword and blocks a set of kunai that bounce off the steel, then twisting her body around with a power swing, creating a line sparks as she clashes with the twin stars of Han. The ninja pushes her off, and brings the heat with a flurry of strikes with the shuriken. May grows impatient as his strikes continue to frustrate her, finding that although he isn't striking with the same power as hers, his quickness and accuracy more than made up for it; if this lasts any longer, she might very well slip up and give him a chance at victory. Before that happens, she'll beat him. She times his strikes and parries one, breaking his rhythm instantly.

Finally able to go back on the attack after being cornered left and right, May unleashes everything in her repertoire. The elusive ninja still has the better of her in his speed, but she's back to controlling the tempo as she succeeded in creating space. Her moment of relief is cut short however, as once again comes rushing in close. Fed up of this constant nuisance he posed in attempting to rush her from up close she swings hard with her bow to send him jump back, then dialing up her pace and pulling a few arrows from her quiver. May's arrows cut through the air like knives, only to be sliced in half by Han's kunai that he wields like daggers before throwing them at her. She does a counterclockwise run around him, doing a skip and jump, then firing another trio of arrows; Han substitutes them and dodges them easily, closing the space between them. A light shines in her eye and in a blink, she delivers a thunderous blow with her sword. A powerful blast of wind is given off, and she believes she got him right where she wanted, but looking at her bow, she saw a shuriken blocking where her sword should've struck and noticed that he was only using two fingers to hold up the ninja star. Stuck in a lock, May breaks away and alternates to her arrows, which he deflects with a bottle that blows a smokescreen. Surrounding the immediate area in a mist of black, he is everywhere and yet nowhere.

"When we fight in close range, you become reliant on that sword. However, you're not well versed in the blade like you lead on. From far, you switch to your signature bow. Whenever I apply pressure to you like this, you create space and go back to your trusty arrows. Take that away, and force you to fight with that sword and you're vulnerable!" he shouts under the cover of smoke.

As if seeing right through her, a cold drop of sweat runs down her face with an obvious expression that told him he was on the mark. From what he deduced from those several exchanges, and then from prior, he figured her out and had a plan on how to stop her, to flip the script and take the advantage. With such accurate deductions, the tone of the fight shifted from Han simply surviving May to the tables turning with him seemingly with the advantage. He's quick on the break from the smokescreen and goes on the attack, aggressively pounding away at her sword challenging her to prove him wrong. Her pride tested by some ninja, May bites back and stiffens her shoulders with a roaring swing. Several strikes are deflected as everything May does just can't find her target, fatigue playing a role in her sloppy form with the sharpness in her cutting motions looking rather dull from having to apply such tension to her forearms and wrists. Noticing that she's open for a clean strike, Han reveals a shuriken and throws it at her exposed wrist. A throw that finds its mark, it proves effective in prohibiting her from making any more swings and slashes as she drops her sword, stunned that he targeted her wrist with that throw. Prying the shuriken out of her wrist, she starts bleeding with an immediate numbness and no strength left in her hand to grip the blade; all that she has left is her bow, and she can't move her hand. Han warns her to surrender if she values her life, but her composure is gone now that she's been reduced and humiliated before her queen. An echoed cry of madness followed by a lack of care for one's safety, May ignored the pain her wrist and gripped her bow, taking out an arrow and sprinting toward him. She catapults herself towards him by slamming her sturdy bow to the ground and then fires a shot in mid flight, teleporting right behind him with her arrow nocked and ready to release; the moment she does so she'll feel such an intense pain that she might not even remain conscious from the trauma, but she doesn't care as long as she wins. Right behind the ninja and ready to unload, Han vanishes-replaced by the same loathsome squid doll. She doesn't have enough time to think and only reacts off her instincts, turning around quickly and unleashing her arrow. The stinging sensation spreads immediately, and to her dismay, her mark is empty. Absolutely stunned by his disappearance to the point that she couldn't feel the pain, a flash of light crosses her eyes before she blacks out; behind her holding his hand up in a karate chop pose is Han, who struck her on the nape. She crashes to the floor, but Han is sure to check her pulse and breathes a sigh of relief knowing that she's fine. His sights turning to the others, he hopes they can wrap up in the say way he could.

One fight down, two to go. Hachigo and Anzi are locked in a synchronized moment as their attacks collide simultaneously, their bodies worn down from the mental strain of this fight. Like a game of draughts, every move thrown isn't without a purpose-neither side being careless about making one too many. They were even in every sense. Hachigo had her arsenal that'd been worn down, but luckily the weapons left in her disposal were her craftiest and most reliable whereas Anzi's skill with the scythe was nothing short of spectacular, making the heavy object seem weightless with the way she handled it thanks to her athleticism.

Anzi catches her breath, "Haven't had enough yet?"

"You're still breathing, aren't you?" Hachigo responds.

"Got jokes I see. Even this late into the fight and you're still like this, I shouldn't expect anything less of someone who was once considered to be our best."

"Your obsession with history will work against you once you gain another perspective."

There's a break, both sides are calmed.

"Why did you choose them? Betraying us and siding with the inklings, was it truly worth it? You're one of us-a soldier at that. You belong with us, not them."

"Strange that you're attempting this so late, why the change of heart?"

Anzi couldn't tell her it was because of a fellow Grand Elite's death that she began to ponder on the concept of coexistence, adopting those ideals and simply looking for an outlet to practice them. From her eyes, the experience of Hachigo was enough material for her to come to a decision. She always believed in serving the royals, protecting the land, and disposing of anyone who poses a threat. But after the death of Sahie, she thought more from an objective view and noticed that indeed, the situation didn't look as great as she initially thought. The people she swore to protect were suffering, the queen she swore to serve was acting reckless, and most of all, the enemies working against her seemed to have a just cause. Not once did she think or even wonder of possibly betraying her, but she was curious about the other side. How did the octolings on the surface feel? Did they resent their homeland? Did they miss it? Were they proud of their roots or did they despise them? Were they assimilated into the inkling culture and forgot everything or were the traditions kept alive? And for those who willfully "escaped" from Octaria, how did they feel about their decision? It's all written on her face and is the only reason why she's calmed down. A genuine curiosity for what laid outside of her realm of thoughts, Anzi looked similar to a lost child who was willing to accept the truth. Hachigo's face softened, understanding what the warrior must've thought. After all, they came from the same background and in Hachigo's eyes, Anzi's current position was somewhat of a "what if" scenario in the case that she stayed; she would've been in her shoes.

"You must have many questions but I'll only answer with this: I left because I wanted a life on the surface. I wanted to enjoy the things they had, to feel the sea breeze lull me to a state of tranquility beyond dream. I wanted to see what it was they had they so desperately had to confine, keeping it from our grasps. I wanted to apologize to DJ Octavio so badly for my desertion, to my friend who I left behind. I had a change of heart in a critical moment and I felt it in my chest, that it was a leap of faith I needed to take. As for everything else you want answered, I can only offer this..." she assumes her battle stance again, switching back to her plasma whip; "You'll have to beat me for it."

Anzi's shoulders jump as she suppresses her laugh, unable to hide the scorn and disbelief behind her thoughtful words. "Incredible to think an octoling could feel such a way." She too readies her scythe; "I'll make your death painless."

They clash for the final time, no longer filled with rage and instead a battle of regrets. They understood the other so well that violence no longer felt like the answer, that killing the other over someone's orders or for politics was nothing short of asinine. They wanted to continue their talk and share knowledge, discuss their curiosities and become friends, but in this case, surely it could never happen. As they wear uncomfortable expressions trading blows, they could the look of the other and feel remorse about harming them. Queen Octavio hadn't been paying attention for a while, but she noticed something off with Anzi's attitude during the fight and was quick to remind her who her opponent was, commanding her to kill this instant. Of course she didn't want to, but what choice was there? She dedicated her life to this cause, and to betray it now was nothing short of a disservice to herself for all those years, to all those people she killed in the name of following her duty. To turn away from that now, she couldn't possibly do it. With a broken heart and loss of resolve, Anzi abandoned her feelings and went at Hachigo; the agent understood her thoughts clearly and accepted her decision. Whip versus Scythe, it's a careful fight as Anzi focuses on closing the gap while Hachigo tries to buy time in hopes that it'll change her for the better, but Anzi's determination proves victorious as she uses her power swings to her advantage and hone in. That's when Hachigo makes the switch and brings out her gun, firing a shot at the leaping octoling and nearly taking her shoulder, just grazing it by how quickly she leaned her body. On the landing, Hachigo has her gun pointed at her as if giving her a last chance to decide her fate. Anzi resorts to the only option allowed…

"I'll come at you with everything I have." she declared, only getting a lowering of the gun from Hachigo as a response which meant that as a show of respect, Hachigo would entertain for one last chance. With everything on the line, they'll settle it here.

Time halts. Sound becomes nonexistent. The brisk wind brushing against their faces as the only exception. Their steps match their heartbeats their mouths open, breaking the silence with their roars-two alphas deciding the fight here with this final duel. Anzi's scythe winds all the way back, matching the intense burning gaze of its master-all her strength put into this moment as a storm brewed behind her. On the other end, the cool gaze of Hachigo carries a wave behind her as her head dove, her gun clutched in her hand ready to finish her with a shot from up close. Like a two freight trains on a collision course, both of them saw everything through frame by frame, their lives flashing before their eyes. As soldiers brainwashed by DJ Octavio to fight his battles, their very different paths unfolding as they neared: Hachigo's betrayal and escape to the surface and Anzi's loyalty to Candice, Hachigo's adventures as Agent 8 and Anzi's ascension to Grand Elite, The reminder of the Great Turf Wars that followed and the many comrades they lost during that hell. All of it came together in these final moments between two stars colliding producing a blinding flash, followed by a loud and terrible sound of a dozen slashes cutting skin and a gunshot. They passed one another with their backs facing the other, both wounded from the attack. Hachigo wears plenty more slashes and cuts on her skin, blood leaking from some. Anzi wears bullet shaped hole right above her waist in the area she brushed against Hachigo. Their knees buckling and their breath ragged, both of them turned around and looked at the other, blood and sweat staining the queen's tiles.

"That is my answer..." Hachigo huffed and puffed, grimacing while holding her arm.

Anzi laughed in utter confusion, "A song…?" her tone lightened with revelation, crashing to the floor with her blood spilled.

The victor of this duel is Hachigo, but before she does anything else, she limps over to her defeated opponent and turns her over. Taking out some gauze she kept for such a situation, she kneels beside the enemy and tends to her wounds. "I'll take you there, so don't die on me."

Once again, the tandem of Sky and Jonah show persistence in bringing the fight to Weiden, reducing his saber to nothing more than a defensive too as they combined Jonah's raw power with Sky's speed. His head and body weaving in time, he protects himself with his sword against Midnight Sky's spear, batting away her follow-up swing in midair. Another rotation occurs with Jonah swapping in packing a punch, striking Weiden right in the gut. Weiden tanks the strike and brings his arms up high for a swing, ready to execute Jonah. Sky rushes in immediately with a few thrusts to throw him off, saving him in the process. Weiden doesn't back off for long, instead turning his focus to taking down Sky and her spear, noticing that although she moved decent with the weapon, she was far from experienced. He was aware that was Hatu's weapon and pieced together what was happening, laughing at the notion that because she had his weapon she'd magically have some sort of power up. Her Midnight ability was imposing, but other than that it didn't do much. He found her to be fortunate she had Jonah on her side to drag away some of the attention. All he needed to do was beat her first and disposing of Jonah would be swift, but the same way he thought so, they did too.

"You won't be doing anything to her!" Jonah shouts, protecting her with his arm; "She's the light of this operation, and I'll be damned to let another die on my watch again."

Weiden sneered, "Again? Oh, you mean that boy who got slaughtered earlier?" Jonah breathes heavy, his body trembling with rage at the remembrance of Abraham's death; it was his sacrifice that they even got this far. "Speaking of the dead, how many people died for your cause? Must be tiring to have all these souls die for your ideals." Jonah's teeth were grinding against each other so tightly his gums bleed; a spear flies past him and into Weiden who brought his blade up like a shield. As his sword comes down, to his surprise it is gone. A blue blur is right next to him, feeling the effects of a kick to the kidney that ruptures him internally. Following that kick still with both her feet off the ground, Sky twists her body after the kick to bring more force on the swing on the spear. It's a miss. Weiden ducked and rolled forward to avoid her head slicing attempt, and recovering from that near brush with death, he's met by the fist of Jonah that knocks him to the ground. He rebounds off that and instinctively avoids a strike from behind by Sky, making sure both of them are in his sights. Confirming their positions, he takes it to another gear and matches the speed of Sky, dueling her with his sword. Sky holds her own, kicking it up a notch by once again going into Midnight mode, having struggled to maintain it in this situation. Jonah steps in and covers for her, deciding to do what he can with the handicap. Weiden's speed transfers from his legs to his arms and once again he challenges Jonah, with speedy swings rather than the power one done prior. The chemistry of the two works perfectly as Jonah takes the brunt of the attacks, letting Sky focus on building pressure by darting around faster than Weiden can follow. The Grand Elite had trouble maintaining focus with a blue blur constantly in his peripheral along with an opponent who hit like a freight train with a rocket, wary of the plan they're scheming. The way they moved, the tenacity shown in their extra efforts, it was clear to him that they must've been planning something. Jonah's always in his face now, moving his lone arm so fast it cuts the air like a knife-creating whiffing sound while narrowly missing his target. The pressure nearby from Sky was frightening too with the way she continues to feint every time, as if teasing the swordsman to bite; he was aware that the last thing he should do is throw out an unnecessary attack.

Midnight Sky unleashes all her energy into her legs and becomes too fast for him to track, chaining together a combo of strike. With a spin, she wacks him right under the arm, then jamming him straight in the abdomen so hard he vomits, lifting him with the blunt end of the spear and twisting it further until blood spurts out. Her eyes are crisp and cold like the glow of her hair, slamming him on the ground and leaving him to writhe in pain. To kill him was too sweet of an escape that she wouldn't allow, instead preferring him to suffer unspeakable pain. With Weiden unable to continue, Sky's knees buckles and she falls, that sequence draining more out of her than she would've liked. Jonah limps to her side and helps her up, applauding her for being able to bring him down without killing him. With every Grand Elite falling to defeat despite putting all their hearts to fighting for their queen, Candice decided now was the best time to use her last resort with situation presented. Even though they emerged as the victors, the team of Jonah, Sky, Hachigo and Han were exhausted and in no position to fight yet another battle. Candice Octavio laughs maniacally watching them struggle to stand, giving a look of avarice. "I always get what I want: If I want to be queen, I become queen." she said looking over at DJ Octavio with her tongue out like a snake; "If I want somebody dead, I have their head taken." a glance to her fallen Grand Elites wipes the look of her face; "If I want to carry out my revenge, I will do so! Nobody and I repeat, nobody, will get in my way. If I have to destroy this place, then I'll do just that!"

A sudden rumble occurs as the throne room shakes erratically; Charles is pleading with her to reconsider her actions for the safety of the country, but his queen is too far gone with greed. The rumbling continues, followed by a rhythmic tempo and the ascension of her throne to the ceiling of the throne room. A cold sweat falls down DJ Octavio's face as he recognizes the design of the behemoth of a mech his wife sits in, resembling closely to the Octobot King he had, instead of his turntables for producing wasabi beats sat a control panel likely for shooting several missiles. The monstrosity of a mech towering them, the queen called it the Octobot Queen Mk.I, a massive mech possessing tons of capabilities. Without another moment wasted, DJ Octavio ordered everyone to escape after giving them a summary of what the mech was capable of, citing that it was the weapon he used when he fought against Maya and Luna respectively. Behind them is Charles who also cared about his life and wouldn't like to lose it, together they escape the collapsing throne room carrying the unconscious bodies of their opponents, refusing to leave them behind to get crushed under the rubble their prized queen created. Wasabi beats are blasted like a theme song while destroying the palace, the mech so large it could be seen from outside the palace, the resistance knew their next objective was to tail that mech, likely finding everyone there; on their end, they just about extinguished the last of the octarian forces. A race to bring the commotion to the end, all the key players gather for one final fight.