Disclaimer: I don't own, nor do I wish or intend to infringe upon the copy-rited materials owned by Disney and the crossover's other franchise, which will remain nameless until it is revealed in the plot of the story. Said plot, however, is mine.

Like I said in my other story, sorry for taking so long putting this up. Other commitments, real life and all. You all know how it is.

Enjoy, and review please.

Chapter 2: Repercussions

After the shockwave passed overhead and the blast of heat dissipated, Drakken slowly picked himself off the ground. His back muscles protested painfully, already strained from his fall from the hover car when the explosion's concussive force lifted him off the pavement and arched his spine in smashing him through the lab doorway. The skin on his back pained him as well, his suit burnt into the flesh in places by the ensuing stream of flame that had followed him out of the lair. His palms and face were scraped and bruised from his landing, his eyes watered from a combination of the acrid smoke that now filled the air and the dirt which was driven under his eyelids during his face plant. And on top of all that, from the extreme pain in his head the doctor judged himself to have a minor concussion as well. But for all his physical injury, it was his emotional anguish that tore at him deepest. Shego had disrespected him, berated him, abandoned him, betrayed him, and attempted to kill him. Alone, any of these actions might have been just a regular occurrence, what made it inescapably different was that all these reactions took place within a few hours of each successive act. Shego had always been content to merely beat him to within an inch of his life, or verbally assault him to the point where his only escape was to regress to the awareness level of a newborn. But no more. The pure cruelty of her words, far different from the usual irritated smart-mouth rebukes, still ate at him, as ravenously as the wildfire consuming the remains of his lair.

Our lair... A particularly distraught neuron amended, sending another throb of painful angst through the blue man's body. That thought lead to another, and soon the burning wreckage of the laboratory took on an almost morbidly appropriate symbolic value, a funeral pyre for his and Shego's relationship, professional or otherwise.

Why? Was all the vocabulary the villain's mind could muster. Was he truly so valueless, so pathetic that years and years of working in close proximity to him could not develop any loyalty, any basic emotional tolerance? Could he be disposed of so trivially, without a second thought, when a new, more attractive opportunity came up? He could understand Shego leaving him. Beneath his arrogant, self-serving veneer existed the same young man that had built robotic dates for his friends in college, someone more sensitive and understanding. The young Drew Lipski had been a giving person, someone who had placed incredible value and belief in the abilities of his friends. Being the load bearing wall of his evil façade, this portion of his psyche knew that Shego could do better than him, that she could do truly incredible things if not anchored by his ineptitude. But he could not reconcile that the closest thing he could pin to a friend would so causally try to kill him. He was shallow, infantile, and had on more than one occasion taken her for granted, but he had cared for her, forgiven her for her nearly constant outbursts of carelessly hurtful comments, and had even saved her (or tried to) whenever she was truly in need of rescuing.

"You're a moron! If it wasn't for all these fruitlessly squandered years I've spent observing, no, living your stupidity, I wouldn't be able to believe that you don't realise how futilely useless you are! I know you can count your IQ on one hand, but doesn't it resonate within the empty confines of your skull that you can't even beat a ditzy teen-aged girl and her half-witted boyfriend?! You're a disgrace to the business. And you know what the worst part is? You're not even evil! Any fool can make himself morally corrupt! It takes a special kind of complete and utter idiot to fail at that, but you pulled it off! You've managed to dedicate the last 20 years of your laughable life to an easily attainable ethical goal, and fall short! I'm done working for someone who'll never amount to anything, except a useless,worthless joke." The re-playing of Shego's tirade made Drakken shudder. At the time, his mind had denied it, even if he was so shocked that he could not voice his disputal. However, for the first time in decades his defensive monologue, that which maintained his masquerade as the emotional equivalent of Teflon, was gone, as if the impact with the ground had knocked it into silence. He knew she was right; that he was destined to remain nothing, as he had began, as he was now. Not since Jim Possible and his other former friends had completed his isolation in college had he felt so alone, had his life seemed so empty and meaningless. A lone tear made its way down his cheek, only to be lost in the caked on blood that was tacked to his face.

Well, it would be a shame to make Shego's first new mission a failure. The miserable villain thought, approaching the flaming rubble still before him. It looks like irony is against me, yet again. He took a deep breath, and prepared to finish what she had started. It was the least he could do for her, after all the years she had wasted with him. Before he could act on those depressed thoughts, however, the rumble of a big block engine shook the ground. Drakken turned, and raised his hand to deflect the glare of the car's headlights. The vehicle quieted, and the glow died as the driver opened the door to step out. The larger man walked towards the blue wreck, cautiously stepping around the smouldering fragments of the building. He gazed out over the scorched earth, then towards the hunched, feeble looking figure before him.

"I turned around as soon as I saw the explosion Drew. What happened? Are you alright?" Edward Lipski asked his cousin, showing concern that he rarely felt comfortable extending, even to his own flesh and blood. But seeing Drakken's agonized features, he could tell that this was not simply another disastrous failed experiment, and blood was thicker than pride.

"I don't think so, Ed. Not this time." Drakken replied, his voice so small that Ed had to strain to hear him over the still licking flames. This shocked the motor head. Whatever worry that the pain on Drakken's face had inspired was increased ten-fold by the uncharacteristically wretched tone of his voice. Ed asked his cousin again.

"What happened? Where's the green babe?" Mentioning Shego drew a violent flinch from the doctor. He turned suddenly, feeling tears welling up in his eyes, and despite his shredded pride, or perhaps because of it, he grasped the few fragments which remained with him. When he had gathered himself again, he spoke.

"Sh-Shego... has... found new employment opportunities. Opportunities, it would seem, that require my... elimination."

"Seriously... I've heard about rough breakups, but this is something else." Ed whispered, stepping forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with his kin, who was looking out over the still expanding sea of flames.

"Yes, Ed. This is something else entirely." Drakken agreed, his head sinking to his chest as he slowly shook it in sorrow. Knowing the blaze would not go unnoticed, Ed fidgeted uncomfortably at his cousin's static pose.

"Umm, cuz, we should get moving. Smokey is going to be on this place like a pack of dogs on a three legged cat."

"Colourful, Ed. But I don't care anymore. Right now, I'd welcome one of the capital sentences I have on my head. Just go. Let me be alone."

"Come on Drew, it's not like this is the first time you've lost a girlfrie..." Ed stopped himself, too late to prevent the new dimension of inadequacy from reaching his cousin. Drakken sighed heavily, and began to again approach the flames. Scrambling, Eddy amended himself. "Wait. Before you go all MCR on me, let me show you how a man deals with this." This drew a sneer from Drakken, but he stopped his self-propelled funeral march.

"If Shego were here, she'd laugh at you for calling me a man."

"But she's not. Usually that's enough to prove to me that the girl's opinion isn't worth jack. But if she has you convinced that you aren't a man, consider this you first lesson in taking back your masculinity." Ed countered. Then he smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Give me one night, and if you're still convinced life isn't worth living tomorrow, I'm sure GJ will still pick you up and put you away."

Drakken stood idle for a moment, considering his relative's offer. He had to admit he was right, Global Justice would be just as inclined to arrest him tomorrow, and truth be told, casting himself to a fiery end wasn't the most comfortable way to go. Ed motioned with his hand, and while he doubted his mind would be changed, Drakken nodded. He looked at the remains of the lair one last time, the charred remnants of his life, and followed his cousin to the car. As the engine roared to life and Ed peeled out, Drakken whispered, so low it was only audible to himself.

"Goodbye Shego." They disappeared over the edge of the horizon as the flash of red and blue announced the arrival of the authorities and news crews.

(-) (-) (-)

Completely ignorant to the life changing emotional drama being played out just a few dozen miles away, Team Possible continued their pursuit of the violently confused man dressed in the exotic-looking armour. Despite the impressive gashes and the strange burns that covered a fair portion of his torso and limbs, the apparent soldier maintained an almost superhuman pace through the thick brush and foliage that extended around Drakken's recently abandoned fortress. He had a lot to be disorientated about, even if he wasn't aware of the particulars, being so hopelessly displaced in both space and time, and becoming so before his brain could conceive the change. He had literally been in one place at one moment, and then instantly appeared in another. The mind simply cannot deal with such a ferocious modification of reality, and will continue on as if it was still in the previous situation in spite of any evidence to the contrary until it can sort out the pseudo-insanity rationally. Unfortunately, rationality could not enter into the equation as this man's state of affairs stood right now. Unbeknownced to the teenaged duo, this insatiable stamina was born out of the absolute and unremitting terror that gripped ever fibre of the poor man's being. The frantic rush of adrenaline that he had emerged from the portal with continued unabated, his mind consumed with one fanatical desire. To put as much distance between himself and that place as biologically, chemically, mechanically, physically, philosophically, intellectually and in any other meaningful and meaningless way possible. That was, until he found either a room with sufficiently wide steel reinforced walls or a suitably large and fast firing weapon, somewhere between a .50 calibre machine gun and a Howitzer, ideally a combination of both. It did not matter, unsurprisingly it did not even compute, that he now found himself so far away spatially that his dash was by all accounts completely irrelevant, nor that chronologically he was now hundreds of years before the source of his fear had even existed. He acted on complete instinct now, and instinct instructed him to flee. Only when he found a place where he felt comfortable would his reasonable mind reassert itself, and could he judge which perceptions were to be believed and which ones were no longer valid. Then, and only then, could his consciousness accept this new reality.

"Wait! Sir, we don't mean you any harm! Please..." Kim was cut off as an unseen branch clipped her face. She had been calling out to him for most of her pursuit, trying in vain to get him to stop his needless flight, but he had yet to have paid her declarations of friendship any heed.

Starting to get sick of this. The young heroin thought venomously, as she ducked under another obscured grouping of twigs. Her hair took a moment longer to follow her head, and managed only to tangle itself amongst the mass of leaves. Unprepared for the sudden onset of pain she had scarcely felt since Ron had gotten over the elementary school inclination to pull hair in a losing play-fight, the relatively unimposing force was enough to pull her off her feet. Rattled, and undeniably frustrated at this pointless expenditure of energy, Kim did not immediately spring back to a running stance, but instead sat herself up, and ran her fingers through her now ruinous locks of flame red hair. However, her make-shift comb became immersed in a thick sticky substance with the first stroke, and she was forced to withdraw. Wiping the sap that was now integrated into her once immaculate swath of hair off her hands, Kim's mood took on a dangerously dark tone. In all of her adventures, not once had her pride and joy been so brutally assaulted, and her concern towards the man immediately transformed into anger.

SO done with this. She fumed as Ron, who was trailing her by a few yards, finally caught up. Sensing the stark contrast in her disposition, he hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder and asked the obvious question.

"What's the matter Kim?" His soothing voice and the calming tactile connection almost immediately cooled the coals of her retribution; such was one of the effects of his essential Ron-ness. However, another crept up out of no-where when he noted the gooey knots that now inhabited Kim's hair, and destroyed the damage control he had just seconds before applied. "What happened to your hair?"

Not even bothering to answer, the young woman stood, shrugging of the now ineffectual physical link.

"This just changed from a rescue into a search and destroy mission." She said, not to anyone in particular, and she took off again after her target at a positively blistering pace. Not that she had not been committed to catching him before, but now it was personal. Left hopelessly behind, even with his new-found skill as a running back, Ron did not even try to match her velocity. Taking up a light run, he could not help but comment to Rufus.

"I don't know what had him so spooked before, but I sure hope he keeps running, 'cause now he really is in trouble."

"Hnk-hnk, Uh huh." Rufus replied, nodding his head solemnly. The rodent felt sorry for the man already.

At her new tempo, even the man's primal run for survival could not overcome the near-perfect physical conditioning of the much younger cheerleader, and Kim began to close the distance between them. She did not speak, and completely ignored the irritating scratching action of the tree branches; the teen was solely focused on catching her prey. The hero was almost in full combat mode right now, and this could truly be a frightening prospect, although it still paled in comparison to the dreadful thing that the soldier was trying to escape. Soon, Kim could see the disturbance against the trees that the man was leaving in his wake. Rapidly his indistinct form began to sharpen, and the grotesque wounds that crisscrossed his back, cut right through the armour that had been unscathed by the explosive fragmentation of Drakken's time machine once again became clear.

What could have done that? Kim thought against her anger. As quickly as it had come, the rage at her disturbed hair-do lost its edge against the obvious trauma suffered by the focus of her wrath, and she suddenly felt very stupid and self-centered for considering her relatively minor problem worth punishing the man. The streaks of crimson lifeblood that was left on everything he came in contact with further ingrained her shame, and she began to slow at the loss of her infuriated drive. In any event, pursuit was no longer a problem, as the run had lead the man into a clearing bordered on both sides by impassable foliage and ahead by a sheer precipice. The soldier at least had enough presence of mind to halt his sprint, and he stood at the very edge, looking down over it to the river that flowed scores of feet below. Glancing back for the first time since the race had begun, he saw the red flair of sap-soaked hair that was slowing its hunt of him.

Kim thought that her quest was finally over, and that faced with the fact that running was no longer an option, her objective would finally be willing to listen to her. She was dead wrong. Still lost in the world that he had emerged from centuries from now and light-years away from here, there was only one choice for the man. He turned back around, and with an enthusiasm that Kim could not understand, dove over the cliff. With scarcely enough time to shout in her shock, Kim accelerated to a speed that doubled the pace she had run at in anger, and whipped her hairdryer-grappling hook from its holster. She reached the edge, took aim faster than she had believed even possible for a Possible, and let the grappler's lead fly. It streaked towards the plummeting form of the strange soldier at a speed that seemed woefully inadequate, but managed to snag him before he made contact with the rocks obviously visible just a few inches under the surface of the water. The line snapped taunt, and the two hundred plus pounds of accelerated mass jolted the heroin forward over the edge, but expecting this she was able to grab the ledge and hold on, much to the protest of her taxed muscles. She looked down in time to see the man's head slam into the cliff face with bone crunching force, his helmet having fallen clear of his head in his insane jump. It was a blessing in disguise, for if he had remained conscious he would have struggled against the bond that now was the only thing separating him from death with the same abandon that he had sprinted away from Drakken's lab. And extraditing himself from the length of the grappler wire coiled around his ankles would have been the best case scenario, the worst being removing Kim's own grip on the ledge, sending both of them plummeting to the rocks below.

Ron, hearing the cry of his high school sweet-heart and best friend, had immediately advanced his jog into a sprint that would have impressed any NFL scouting team, and arrived in time to take hold of the now static line attached to the hair dryer, and allowed Kim to lift herself back onto the ground above. He activated the retraction function on the grappling hook as Kim pulled out her Kimmunicator, and dialled Wade. Not even waiting for the youth's customary greeting, she began issuing orders as soon as his face appeared on the screen.

"Wade, get Global Justice. We need an emergency medical EVAC. NOW!" Slighted, but hearing the urgency in her voice, Wade complied without protest, his fingers racing over his keyboard. He only spoke after the request had been sent and replied to.

"They're on their way Kim. I sent them your homing signal, and they said they should be there in a less than 5 minutes. Is it Ron?" Hearing the clear intonation of worry, the blonde laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

"No, Wade. I'm fine, but thanks for the concern." This response gained a rare look of confusion from the young computer genius on the other end of the line.

"Then who is it?" He asked.

"Long story Wade. I'll explain later. Keep me posted on GJ's progress, please and thank you." Kim replied, a small part of her general demeanour re-asserting itself.

"Will do, Kim." Wade answered, and closed the connection. By now the cable had fully retracted, and Kim helped Ron haul the beaten and still form of the terrified man over the lip of the cliff. They laid him out a few feet away from the edge, and lost to any other action, simply watched the slow shallow exhalations of the unconscious soldier until, right on time, the Global Justice supersonic VTOL aerial ambulance roared overhead. Landing quickly, GJ's paramedics hastily loaded the casualty onto a gurney and lifted off again, leaving the pair of hero's behind to await a more conventional transport chopper. The procedure was done with amazing efficiency, the ground not even warmed by the jet wash between the landing and takeoff.

Finally allowed to feel emotion again, Kim stood for a few seconds lost in thought before collapsing into Ron's unexpecting embrace. Quivering, she explained what tore at her.

"Ron, he saw how shallow the water was. He would have known there was no way he could have lived through that fall. What would make someone do that? I don't understand Ron." The blonde, knowing of only one possible motivation that could force him to play his cards in such a way, a threat to that which he currently held in his arms, could only shake his head in incredulous sorrow.

"I don't know KP. I just don't know. And to be honest, I don't think I'd want to." He tightened his grip on her for a moment, and slowly lowered her with him into a sitting position. There was nothing to do but wait for the helicopter and mull over the disturbing chain of events they had just borne witness to.

(-) (-) (-)

The night manager of an unknown interstate truck stop motel handed the key to a room to the new, somewhat suspicious looking patron. They wore a long green trench coat and a wide brimmed black fedora, which hid their face. The long shinning black locks of hair and voice hinted at femininity, but the coat obscured confirming attributes, and from the tone of the traveller's speech, the man inferred that inquiries would most likely not be appreciated. So he had merely rented her a room, asking no questions. He was used to seedier elements utilizing his establishment anyway. The clawed hand that swiped the key from his waiting grasp grazed his wrist just enough to convey the razor sharpness of its edges, solidifying his silence. The stranger left the motel office without a second glance, heading towards the allotted room. Upon reaching 209, Shego unlocked and opened the door, swiftly stepped in and closed the brittle piece of particle board in one smooth motion. She secured the deadbolt, and turned to survey the suite. She was surprised that the room was only in a slightly revolting state of disrepair, though she dare not venture into the bathroom unless absolutely necessary. The walls were adorned with yellowing wall paper which was peeled in several places, its windows were smoke-stained and the curtains sun bleached; the furniture consisted of a twin bed dressed in a drab fleece comforter and two lumpy pillows, a rickety looking chair and table set, and a small TV sitting atop a worn dresser at the foot of the bed. It was by no means 2 stars, but compared to some of the hovels she had been forced to use in her lifetime, it was almost welcoming. Removing her hat, but not bothering with the coat, Shego let herself fall backwards onto the bed, not shocked to find the mattress hard and uneven.

Them's the breaks, princess. She thought to herself. It'll be worth it to teach that inconsiderate blue tool how well he'd do without me. She sighed heavily. Sometimes he could be so infuriatingly dense that it took a huge shock to his system to bring him back in line. She had never taken it as far as she had tonight, but he deserved what he got.

I just wish I could see the look on his face when he makes it back to what's left of the lair. The villainess thought to herself with a dark smile. She made sure she put enough explosives within the building to completely level it, to illustrate the violence of her mood. And while she had been quite irritated, to put it mildly, she had taken the time to remove his precious doomsday devices, inventions, and coco machine ... she wasn't completely sadistic, nor did she want to have to pay to replace everything. For a moment she felt a pang of guilt for how badly she had criticized him, but it was over-ridden in short order.

Careful girl, you're starting to sound like you actually care what he thinks about you. The raven haired woman chided herself. Growing board of her private musings, Shego grasped the TV remote and turned the display on. It took a moment to warm up, a result of being older than circa 1987 and cheaper than the cable it received, (assuming, of course, it was paid for) but had a decent picture once running. The villainess tapped the 5 digit code for the Villain News Network's secret channel into the remote, and twisted around to stack the soggy pillows so her head would be supported. As she turned back to the screen, only slightly more comfortable, she grinned as she recognized the lead story as her night's handy work. An airborne camera, most likely mounted on a model helicopter or miniature hovercraft, gave a bird's eye view of the carnage below. By now the fire had engulfed part of the surrounding woodlands and still showed no signs of stopping, as firefighters struggled to bring it under control. Maybe I over did it just a little. She laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. However, her look became more serious as the headline re-appeared over the picture.

Dr. Drakken believed dead after lair explosion.

It's just reporters jumping to conclusions for flash. Shego tried to re-assure herself, There's no way he could have made it back to the lair in time to have been in any danger... right? The anchor re-appeared on the screen, his words mocking Shego's attempts at self-assurance.

"If you are just joining us, we are currently bringing you live shots of the aftermath of a massive lair explosion just outside of the tri-city area of Colorado. For unknown reasons, the lab of Dr. Drakken, aka Drew Lipski, detonated earlier tonight, and we have evidence that the once esteemed doctor was within the buildings confines when it was engulfed. As you can see in this video clip, acquired by our sources within the Global Justice Monitoring and Tracking division, Dr. Drakken enters the building moments before it explodes." As described by the host behind the news desk, the clip above his shoulder showed Drakken approaching the building and entering it. The clip played on for a few moments longer before a blinding flash filled the lens and the feed went to static. Shego was now kneeling inches away from the television, as the clip played again, the explosion in slow motion to confirm that nothing escaped from the lab at the last second.

He got out... He has to have gotten out! Even he's not stupid enough to have not noticed the timers. A near hysterical voice in Shego's mind exclaimed. Immediately following it, another voice spoke, this one much quieter but more powerful then the first.

Oh no? Didn't you just finish convincing him just a few hours ago that he was a 'complete and utter idiot'? Maybe he might have possibly noticed it on every other day sometimes, but not after you basically told him he should go jump off a bridge. You should know how extra oblivious he is when he's moapy.

"These are some of the interviews we have managed to obtain from our sister station, CNN, which is on the ground at the scene." The newscaster continued, oblivious to Shego's turmoil, yet crushing her pleas for hope as if it was his goal.

"We now join the officer who first responded to the scene. Constable, was there anyone on or around the premises when you arrived, or evidence that someone had been there?"

"I'm afraid not. I hesitate to make any final statements, but we responded within minutes of the call, and my first sweep of the area revealed no sign of anyone within a distance I would expect a survivor of such an explosion could move to on foot. The patrolling members have found nothing which goes against my initial assessment at this time."

Maybe he's buried under the rubble. He could have survived! The first voice cried, now moving beyond hysterical, grasping at increasingly ridiculous explanations to allow for Drakken's survival.

Not likely princess. The second voice replied. You packed that place with enough Sem-Tec to sink a fleet of battleships. There's no way...

"There's no way anyone could have survived a blast like this," a sidelined fire and explosion analyst with the attending fire department said, completing Shego's sentence. "We will of course attempt to find survivors once the fire is brought under control, but judging from the shock damage I can see from here and the intensity of the heat, it's unlikely we will find anything organic, alive or otherwise, still intact within the former confines of the building. Until just recently, the fire was hot enough to vaporise the water before contact." The final analysis blunted any unspoken response from Shego. She felt as if she had been punched in the gut by a super-heavyweight box.

Well done princess. Hear that? You didn't just kill him, you vaporized him. The cynical side of her went on the offensive.

No... I didn't mean for... how did he make it back?

Maybe you should have given him a little more credit than you did. But then again, he wasn't the only short sighted idiot in the hover car tonight, was he? Maybe it was youwho just gave yourself just a little too much credit. What does it matter though? Isn't this what you wanted? He won't stand in your way anymore, that's for sure. He doesn't even have legs to do the standing anymore.

"No... no no nonono..." Shego moaned, dragging her clawed hand over the television screen while the anchor continued on to a brief bio-pick on Drakken.

"... In recent years, Lipski's once frightening reputation has dwindled to comical levels with his continual inability to overcome teen hero Kim Possible and her sidekick Don Toppable. In increasingly laughable schemes, he has continually depreciated the title of mad scientist..." bzzzzz The man fell silent as Shego drove her fist through the screen. Hearing virtually the same words she had spoken just hours before, her last conversation with him, drove her over the edge as the wave of guilt and sorrow broke over her. She ran to the bathroom she had moments before sworn she would avoid at all costs, throwing herself over the toilet as she vomited. Her vision swam, and between heaves she sobbed.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean for this... Dr. D... no..."

There. I know I have a little explaining to do about the liberties I took with the average-KP storyline here. I'm pretty sure I've strayed from the norm when it comes to life and death on the series, and this is just the beginning. That being said, the equally different character traits you may or may not have noticed (Depending on what other fanfic you've read here is how different you will read this story. There are many fics that have similar dynamics, which I must thank for inspiration, so if you've read them, hopefully this isn't too far past the red-line.) I don't foresee any more suicides in the story, and these ones are only here for specific reasons. Drakken's is to suggest just how effected he was by Shego's 'betrayal.' As I tried to convey, this one is very different from any he had experienced from her in the past. As for the mistry soldier, once we get to the point of understanding just what he's running from, what made him decide to do what he did will become very clear. Ed's character is going to expand past the fairly limited scope portrayed in the series, but since he was not as fully developed as the others, I don't think this isn't too much of a problem. Shego's reaction, I suspect considering what we learn of her relationship with Dr. D in Graduation (although that hasn't occured yet in my time-frame), isn't so far-fetched, but just the same forgive me if I offended your understanding of her character. If you really hated it, you probably should stop reading now. Things are going to get pretty heavy over the next few chapters. This is both where I want to go with the story, and a necessity of integrating KP with the crossover franchise I've selected.