Now, normally the Nevada assassins would have simply turned tail and fled to the shadows to assess the situation. But special times called for special measures. The weak alliance with the ShadowLight mercenaries offered a… unique opportunity. After commanding the builders to vacate the area and call an evac, Sierra, Lucas, and Zeratul set off with Justin on a mutual manhunt.
They had been walking for a while when the group came upon a white expanse, littered with white cubes and rectangular prisms. The blocks were strange, formed of a matte black material and of sizes varying from child's letter blocks to mansions. All had some kind of black label on them, such as "Politically Incorrect".
"Lucas? Report."
"I think they are some kind of portal gate. They resonate with a frequency similar to that of a Khaydarin crystal." Hmmm. That changed everything. Before long, the group came to one of the blocks, one marked "/b/".
"We don't go there. Ever." Remarked Justin.
This piqued Lucas's curiosity. "Why's that?"
"We. DON'T. Go in there." The mercenary repeated sternly.
Of course, one does not say this to one with the maturity of a fifteen year old child. "But why?" Lucas prodded. At this, Shade looked quite flustered. He took a calming breath, and cast his gaze about the assembled party with a grim face.
"That box is known by some as the random zone. That box," pause for effect, very good, "is home to some of the worst depravity, hostility, and abusiveness that terrestrial humans can muster. THAT BOX," he paused again, visibly shaking from the powerful scarlet rage blooming inside him, his arm dropping beside him and clenching into a fist; "IS WHERE THE SCUM OF THE EARTH GO FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES! And I swear, I SWEAR, if any of us goes into that hellhole, if you return, you will not be the same. A calming breath. "So don't go in there, okay?" And the mercenary spun on his heels and marched off into the distance.
As Lucas and Sierra caught up to him, the assassin noticed someone standing in front of the /b/ block. It seemed to be a teenage boy, sapphire blue hair and same color eyes on a pale body dressed in white cargo shorts and a dark blue t-shirt. From the familiar tug of his mind, it was the Author.
[Morning, Sierra.]
[Morning, Author.] Came the psychic reply.
[You know, I went there once. Shade is quite right on what he says. Although there was-]
[Author!] Sierra cut him off. [There is no need for this! Vacate my sight. I have work to do.] And with that, the Ascendant Conduit turned and followed his companions to the area they were at. When he found them, they were in front of another white box.
"Gentlemen, I present to you," the warlord Justin swept his arms around in a grand gesture, "the team-based combat-scenario randomizer. You can just call it the Combat Randomizer.' He pushed on a section, opening u a door in the base. He swept them like an usher. "Please, after you."
Inside the building, there were four doors that Lucas identified as some kind of portal or dimensional gate. They were, from right to left, Offence, Defense, Random, Spectator. Offence was orange, Defense was cyan, Spectator was grey, and Random was brown.
Justin apparently had a plan prepared. "I know Psych well enough to figure that this will be the most likely place he will be. However, that is as far as my knowledge goes. As such, we will have to search for him manually. He never spectates, so that leaves two options: offence and defense. We'll split up to cover more ground."
As this was being said, Sierra imperceptibly shifted in bearing. Now that he had someone else in charge for once in a long time, it was also someone whom he had a particular grudge match with when it came to strategy. But the assassin would let that slide, for now.
Shade continued. "Seven, you and Zeratul will take defense. Lucas and I will go offence. Now because this activity has rules, you will actually have to contribute to your team's objective. So, each of our groups has two goals: first, help your team. Follow orders, cooperate, and work together to help achieve victory." One could almost hear the added 'and all that stuff' from Lucas. "Second, look for Psych. Because he is immediately recognizable, you won't have to pour all of your energy into it. Just look out for him."
He took a deep breath. "Now, let me tell you something about this activity. Any and all special abilities you have out there will be overwritten once you join. Zeratul can't cloak or blink, Lucas can't do Palkia stuff, I can't use my shadow powers, and Seven can't do the bullshit that Ascendant grants him. You will also lose access to your weaponry. These sacrifices will be replaced by randomly selected powers and equipment from all across the multiverse. You can end up with any combination. And by any, I mean ANY combination. Think of it as armory roulette."
The mercenary turned towards the Offence door. He stopped and turned, "Oh, and two other things: if you die in there, you will be revived within five to thirty seconds at the "Spawn Room". That's why these matches take so long. And each team consists of twenty members. Expect crazy crap to go down." And at that, he left Zeratul and Sierra Seven both somewhat confused as to the nature of this place. As they entered the area, Sierra was immediately assailed by any sensations. The first being that his aura energies seemed unusually distant; the second was that he missed the weight of the custom gun and sword on his hip and the throwing knives in the sleeves of the coat.
At first glance, it seemed like a motley crew. An Australian in one corner pissing in a jar, two little Zebesian pirates, a heavy muscle-bound giant, three 40k Orks, one angelic looking being, about six humanoid creatures of varying sizes, Lucian from Runeterra, and three normal humans. Seeing a cabinet across the back wall, Sierra reached inside to find three cubes laid out on a shelf. After taking hold of them, they turned into an axe, a device called a 'medigun', and the energy glaive thrower of the Daeelam Adepts. After shouldering the pack that came with the medigun, one of the Orks approached him along with the heavy man.
"Oi! Oiz sayz you'se gonna give me somma dem healins' wit dat der medidakka. Oight?" came the gruff question from the Ork.
"I will do what I can where I can, Ork. And if 'where' is with you, then very well." The Ork seemed pleased although confused by his answer. Looking back, Zeratul had received an Xcom Plasma Sniper and some kind of pistol, along with a stick grenade for a melee weapon. Fate just isn't nice sometimes.
And as the gate opened to what seemed to be a control point defense, Sierra set his sights on the long haul healing this smelly Ork. Off on his lonesome, Zeratul settled into a niche in a Cliffside of the canyon, his hooved Protoss feet really helping his decent. Lo and behold, but who would show his face but Justin Shade. Taking the smart approach and hiding behind cover. Little did he know he was in the DT's sights…