Sasha and the Frogs Chapter 42: S2: Mending Broken Halves, an amphibia fanfic

AN: I am in flying school and am stressed. Wooooooooo

CRITTERS — FAE OF THE UNBEATEN PATHS

Consider this; you are walking alone down a path you've treaded on countless of times. Nothing has changed from your usual routine and for all intents and purposes, the day is just any ordinary day. But then, you see a Critter and from that day forth, the trajectory of your life is drastically altered.

What is a Critter, you ask? A Critter is a tiny, rounded creature, no bigger than a pomelo. It lacks arms and is bipedal with equivalently stubby feet. It can have feathers or fur, one to several eyes, optionally horns, and can exist in a variety of colours. Although very different from one another in terms of appearance, it is undoubtly the same species, living in groups of 8 or above and, from observations and word-of-mouth, they have no pack leader or 'alpha'. Despite their size, Critters are unnaturally light on their feet, allowing them to escape from dangerous predators and traverse all manner of terrain. They are also rarely ever found in the wilderness and their diets and behaviours are mostly unknown.

Yet, despite knowing very little about them, Critters can be found in folk tales and old legends as far as 3,500 years, older than even the oldest city in Amphibia. Possibly even older than any civilization, both still existing or extinct. According to these legends, Critters were creatures of fate akin to fairies, guiding lost souls back to the determined paths or to crossroads of hidden and unexplored possibilities. They only show up when they need to, only witnessed by those they want to be seen by. They may share gifts such as fruits, flowers and nuts, or take items of values from innocent passers-by. All of this, every action taken, centred around the theme of fate.

How is it that such creatures know anything about fate? As ludicrious as it sounds, there are exerpts and testimonies throughout the ages that included Critters in its development, even if small. Curiously, it was said that the First King of Amphibia, the founder of the greatest civilization in the world, was beloved by Critters and it was due to them that this empire was founded. Though, no proof of such exist and records regarding the First King is spotty and unverifiable after years of historical neglect.

Of all the creatures written in this book, Critters are by far the most elusive. Should a band of Critters appear, try to follow them. Who knows where they may lead you? But be warned; not all paths are for the benefit of those treading on them. Fate is a fickle being and intruders especially are treated with extreme prejudice.

— Professor Gloria Shenandoah, excerpt from "Creatures of Amphibia: Tall Tales Edition".

You know what's the best part of going to a hotel? It's not the soft and clean beds or the various pleasurable amenities or even the general atmosphere that intersects the lines between 'fancy' and 'comfortable'. No, the best part of a hotel is breakfast.

For most businesses, hotels offer a buffet-style serving for breakfast. All you can eat, as much as your heart desired, from 6 am to 11 pm. Usually, it's included with your stay but you do have the option of opting out but then again, why would you? The additional cost for hotel breakfasts was negligible at best, all while providing you with a large selection of meals, snacks, drinks and desserts.

Additionally, the meals were often varied and made to cater to a variety of hotel guests and their niche palates. Not into proteins? Have a vegetarian-focused starter. Want something lighter as to not upset your stomach? Cereals and toasted croissants are the way to go. In some larger hotels, there were even 'stations' that focused on specific dish sub-cultures such as eggs, noodles and porridges. Whether or not these were 'balanced' was entirely dependent on what you put on your plate.

Regardless, the cheap, healthy and consistent breakfasts were not something a good hotel guest would so easily disregard.

In the hotel's dining area, the world's most beloved grandpa, Hop Pop Plantar, sat on the first seat. He took a bite of his buttered and jammed sourdough bread, then took a sip of the finest Newtopian tea, extending his pinkie finger, and sighed in bliss. "What a wonderful breakfast we're having, isn't it, Sprig?"

Next to him, his grandson, Sprig Plantar of the second seat, took a sip of his own tea, his pinkie stretched out as well. "Indubitably, ol' Hopadiah. A wonderful breakfast, indeed." He said, taking another sip. "What of you, dear sister?"

Polly Plantar, the third-seat sister, also sipped her cup. Though, she didn't extend her pinkie; she didn't have one. "A wonderful breakfast, I say. Charming too, just like this warm cuppa tea."

Sprig nodded. "Ah yes, the tea. A classic of all breakfasts. I am quite keen on a classic Lilypad Grey."

"I personally am a fan of Chamomilipede." Hop Pop joined, lifting his cup in acknowledgement. "And what of yours, young Polly?"

"It seems mine is, without a doubt, Darjeelingo!"

"Wonderful!" "Fantastic!"

All together, the family of three frogs sipped their cups of teas in a moment of familial bonding.

It was peaceful and it was tranquil. It was pleasent, relaxing, serene and arcadian. Ignore the fact that those descriptors were all synonyms to one another; what's important was that they were enjoying a good warm cup of extracted leaf essence in plain water – leaf juice.

SIP!

SIIIIP!

SIIIIIIIIIIIP!

On the fourth chair, Sasha Waybright, The Angel of Death, was drinking coffee.

"… What the frog are you guys doing?"

"Enjoying breakfast like the local folks, them fancy as they are." Hop Pop replied, swirling his cup.

To prove his point, he wagged his pinkie finger. Do note that Sasha's own pinkie remained curled on the cup, like a plebian.

Sasha frowned deeply. "Oh my frog, can you guys stop? I'm feeling second-hand embarrassment just by watch this."

"Why would you say that, oh dearest dear sister that I dear oh so dearly?" Sprig asked, stretching his finger further.

"Indeed! Why wouldth thou have spokeneth as such?" Polly also questioned. Unable to stretch any finger, she opted to stretching her arms apart.

The frogs continued to stretch themselves ever further, reaching and perhaps even surpassing their limits. But why, you ask? Because it's fancy, that's why.

Look, they're farm frogs having lived humbly for most of their lives, now able to experience the greater privilege of the upper class through the power of freebies and war-starting black credit cards. It's the same as giving refined Belgian chocolates to the poverty-stricken cocoa farmers of Brazil. You shouldn't judge them.

Sasha, being a privileged Californian girl, cringed judgementally. "Great, I'm the only one that's normal in this family. What a way to start the day. I'm actually glad I'm not following you guys."

Sprig gasped. "You're not?!"

"Yeah, we had a meeting last night, remember?"

PU-RU, PU-RU, PU-RU, PU-RUUUU~

A quick flashback to exactly last night. Specifically, the final hour before bedtime.

During Sasha's stay with the Plantars, she discovered that the frogs had synchronised sleeping times. Not including afternoon and evening naps, they all roughly went to bed at the same time. Sasha didn't know why but it probably had something to do with them being a farm family.

Despite noticing that, she had failed to realise that she too was falling into the same bedtime habit. To be fair, she was already following a good snoozing schedule, so it wasn't that hard.

"Hey, Hoppity Poppity, I need to find a possibly-old woman named Gerda to fix my banged-up shield. Do you know anyone like that?" Last-Night Sasha asked in her sleeping clothes and an eye mask on her forehead.

Last-Night Hop Pop raised a brow, currently in bed with his old-timey night gown and cap. He was reading a book about poetry or something – Sasha wasn't paying attention. "Why would you assume I'd know a woman like that? And why would you assume she's old?"

Last-Night Sasha shrugged. "Call it a teenager's hunch."

"Well, the answer is no. And besides, we're supposed to be going to the cheese factory tomorrow. Aren't you excited?"

For some reason, upon hearing a specific term or set of terms in a specific order, something triggered inside of her. Something instinctual, something primal like roaring thunder or a cataclysmic volcanic eruption.

Whatever it was, Sasha felt offended. "Who do you take me for – a white woman?" She said accusingly, only to pause for a moment. "Well, yes, I am white and I like cheese but that's an offensive stereotype!"

Hop Pop blinked. "What?"

"Cheese is not solely a white person thing, you know! Like, there are other cultures in the world that have their own versions of cheese and cheese substitutes! Like, it's literally rotten milk, pressed and dried! It's, by definition, cultured milk jerky."

"Sasha, what are you talking about?"

PU-RU, PU-RU, PU-RU, PU-RUUUU~

And so, back to the present where a fed up Hop Pop and a mildly embarrassed Sasha sat. "You then went on a rant about the history of cheese and its impact on human culture – which you oddly know a lot about for some reason – followed by how although you enjoy artisanal cheeses and expensive chocolates, it had zero relation to being, and I quote, 'pale and pristine as the Venus de Milo'." He finished, adding the quote gesture near the end.

"For the record, I don't even know what a 'Venus' is."

Sasha, now her cheeks pinker than usual, looked away. "Okay, I might have gone a bit off-topic on that but I stand by my initial plan and that is to find this 'Gerda' lady that Loggle mentioned and get her to fix my shield."

To prove her point, Sasha lifted her shield, wrapped in a dark beige cloth secured by ribbons. It's honestly shocking that she was even allowed in the dining hall with an object that inconspicuous and threatening.

Polly, now finished with her cup, looked at her adopted big sister confusedly. "Why would you want to fix your shield? Why not just get a new one?"

For some reason, upon hearing a specific term or set of terms in a specific order, something triggered inside of her. Something personal, something cardinal like a bird with clipped wings or a cat with an empty food bowl.

Sasha gasped and hissed at the baby. "How dare you speak those words in that order…"

"Well, Polly is kinda right." Sprig finally joined in. "Shields are usually disposable. So, there's no reason to fix one when getting a new one is easier."

Sasha gasped, louder this time. "Not you too, Sprig…" She pleaded, shedding an innocent maiden's tear. Unable to bear it any longer, Sasha stood up and turned away dramatically. "That's it! I have no family. All I see in front are strangers! STRANGERS! All of whom spit venomous words with their evil, puerile tongues! I don't even know you guys!"

As standard when dealing with Sashananigans, Hop Pop rolled his eyes. "Look, if you want to fix your shield so badly, then you'll probably need to find a blacksmith. Newtopia has an industrial district, if I recall. Maybe you can get a guide to bring you there."

Though her back was turned, Sasha peeked slightly at the older frog. "A guide, you say?"

A guide, he indeed said.

What is a sandwich?

This might sound like a really dumb question but entire studies by doctorate holders and food researchers have been published in an attempted to define what actually is a sandwich.

The most basic description of a sandwich is: a filling such as flattened meat, sliced cheese or a vegetable e.g. lettuce, stacked and wrapped in an edible, holdable container, the biggest example being two slices of bread. Sauces were optional and the type for each ingredient were kept vague in the intent of ensuring variety and combination types. But under this description, it is, without a doubt, a sandwich.

But this wasn't the universal idea of a sandwich. By that definition, a hotdog would fulfil all the criteria. It had a long bun as its edible container and a sausage as its filling, lettuce and relish optional. Another example would be the taco which, although did not use traditional baked bread as the container, still had the tortilla which is technically a type of bread.

What about sushi? What about deep-fried ice-cream?

This was when all hell broke loose.

Numerous legal battles and disputes occurred, costing upwards to possibly thousands to millions of dollars in revenue and legal costs. Global mall food court culture essentially transformed due to these disputes, exposing so many young children-now-middle-aged adults to Greek gyros, Indian naan wraps and Vietnamese banh mis. It was an explosion of delicacies and remains as one of the greatest gastronomic contributions/inventions in history.

Unrelated but rather interesting to know: in 1938, a Polish mathematics journal included a note that described the ham-sandwich theorem. The question, posed by Hugo Steinhaus and solved by Stefan Banach, proved that it is possible to cut n number of object (e.g. foodstuff) exactly in half with one slice regardless of their location, orientation or general shape, so long as it's within the nth dimension. This meant that you could put a piece of bologna in Brazil, some cheese in France and a single slice of bread floating on a coconut in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and it's mathematically proven to be a sandwich, seeing that you can cut it.

In the public area of the Hemisphere Hotel, a lonely hotel employee – specifically, a bellhop – was having her early breakfast-lunch combo. A brunch, you could say. It was the only meal she could have for the next 10 hours.

The young adult newt, still in her bellhop uniform – an aqua-green dress-shirt with yellow lining and cuffs, and a equally coloured circular cap –, placed her lunchbox on the cafeteria table and rubbed her hands hungrily. Opening the latch, what laid inside was the most beautiful and pristine sandwich she has ever laid her eyes on, its lettuce crisp and its tomatoes succulent.

Normally, she could never afford these kinds of meals but recently, her house was broken in by a hoodlum via the kitchen window and the insurance pay-out she received from it was mind-bogglingly astronomical. It was as if the kingdom itself was buying her silence. And newt-damn, were her lips zipped.

"Oh, sandwich. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing this girl has ever laid her eyes on. If you were a person, I would've made you my boyfriend." She said to the sandwich. You know, the inanimate object that can't speak.

She lifted the sandwich with both hands and slowly carried it to her mouth…

"BELLA!"

"WAAAAH!"

Bella, the bellhop, screamed as her name was called, dropping her pristine sandwich into her lunchbox. Although safe, it fell in a splat, smooshing it and messing the stack. From the distance, a well-dressed back-combed newt appeared, stomping angrily towards her, his face fuming in red over his purplish skin.

"M-M-Mr Moseby!" Bella shouted, quickly cleaning up. "What's wrong?!"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?!" He yelled incredulously. "'What's wrong' is that the most vital part of the hotel – the reception desk – is unmanned! What if guests were to appear? Who would receive them?! Care to explain, Bella?!"

Bella the bellhop trembled. "B-b-but what am I supposed to do?! I'm just a bellhop!"

"'B-b-but' nothing, Bella! An employee must always be present in the front lobby at all times, 24/7! That's hotel policy!" Mr Moseby said, furiously tapping his foot. "Besides, I didn't hire you just to be a bellhop! You're supposed to work in different positions, depending on the situation."

Bella gawked in a mix of various forms of emotional distress. Angry, fear, sadness: the whole lot of it. "But it's Aubrey's shift!"

"And where exactly is Aubrey then, hmm?!" He argued, unfettered. "I don't see Aubrey but I see you, just sitting around here and not doing your job!"

She was having brunch!

She wanted to argue, even through her bumbling lips, but…

RING-RING!

Mr Moseby shrieked. He quickly turned around and there, at the reception, was quite possibly the most important guest they currently had. Oh, what rotten luck! "Dear newt! It's a guest from the presidential suite and and there's no one to service them! This is a disaster!" He cried. "This will not do! We are the Hemisphere Hotel – the top hotel in Newtopia! If a guests asks for the stars, we reply with 'How much?'!"

His eyes flicked towards Bella, who took the opportunity to continue her brunch. Well, the sandwich was hovering a hair's breadth away from her salivating mouth at least. Mr Moseby snapped his fingers. "MS BELLA!"

"WAH!" She cried, dropping her sandwich for the second time. It was still the most beautiful sandwich she has ever seen but now, the lettuce and tomatoes had spilled messily in the box. "H-huh?"

"COME!" The manager yelled, clapping his hands twice. Bella the bellhop sighed, closing her lunchbox without having even a single bite.

Back at the reception, Sasha was growing restless. To be fair, she was never the most composed person and she herself knew that, but there had to be a limit to how long a person should wait at a hotel lobby. The reception was the only communication between guests and the hotel's management and services. And Sasha was in need of one of those services.

But, much to her annoyance, the reception was empty. Was there a rating system in Amphibia? If there was, this establishment was getting a 2-star review from her for sure. Not 1-star; the food was good.

Sasha checked her nails for a bit. When was the last time she had a manicure? The resort in the mountains had a spa but she only got the basic package. She wanted to go there again the next day but due to events and misdemeanours that, for the first time ever, was not her fault, that ended up a bust. Maybe she should get a proper one here, considering that this was an all-expenses-paid stay by the king himself.

She then shook her head. No, she was here for a different reason. If she's gonna get that full-body package, then it'll have to be later. Right now, she's got business to attend and that shield of hers wasn't going to be fixed until she did something about it.

"Helloooo? Is anyone here? You guys better not be running away because of my face, or else I'm sending my complaint straight to the king." She said to no one in particular.

Just then, while she was preoccupied with her thoughts, a slimy-looking newt, Mr Moseby, rose from behind the counter. "Hello, dear guest!"

"JESUS MOTHER-FROGGING CRICKET!" Sasha shrieked, jumping backwards and shielding herself.

There was a moment of silence – Mr Moseby staring at her in shock and Sasha doing the same, both frozen in their place. Though, this didn't last as she swiftly guessed who he was, followed by her composing herself and clearing her throat, partially embarrassed. "T-took you long enough."

The newt, choosing to ignore that, clasped his hands together. "Apologies, my most venerated guest. We are a bit short-staffed at the moment."

"Yeah, I kinda figured." She replied, giving a brief shrug.

"But no worries! Though small in numbers, each of our staff are of the highest quality." He praised, though it was difficult to tell if it was genuine or just run-of-the-mill butt-kissing. "How may the Hemisphere Hotel assist you?"

Sasha clicked her tongue. "I'm looking for a guide to bring me to the industrial district."

"The industrial district?" He repeated, eyebrows raised in shock. "Hmm, not the most touristy of places but we all have our niches."

"Yeah, I'm not there for tourist reasons. I'm looking for a woman named Gerda. Most likely a blacksmith, most likely an old lady."

He snapped his fingers and smiled. "Ah, a blacksmith! Yes, that does make sense. The industrial district is where all the craftsmen and builders congregate. Well, not to worry, Ms. We at the Hemisphere Hotel provide nothing less than top-of-the-line service, and that includes guides and free transportation to any major part of the city. In fact, we have information of every point of interest in Newtopia, from the outer gates to the public parks of the castle."

Sasha smiled. "Oh, neat! That'll be easy then."

"Of course! Only the best for our beloved guests! Speaking off…"

The manager Mr Moseby proceeded to pull out a younger, orange-ish newt from elsewhere. "This is Bella, one of our most prized and seasoned members of the hotel staff. I would like to offer her to you as a guide for your quest."

The young newt gawked at her boss. "WHAT?!"

"Including the industrial district?"

"Especially the industrial district!"

Sasha smirked. This was a done deal. "Then, I'll take it. Er, I mean 'her'."

He clapped his hands in exuberance. "Excellent! Then, I shall prepare a snail taxi for the two of then. Meanwhile, Bella, go grab the essentials."

"B-b-but—!"

What about her break? What about her brunch? What about her sandwich? All of that, sadly, ended up unspoken and ignored as the manager briskly walked away. Bella could only watch as her only free time slipped away right before her very eyes.

Alas, without her knowledge, the said sandwich was already ruined. The crispy lettuce was now wilted and the tomatoes had lost its juice, absorbed by the now-soggy bread. If she opened her lunchbox right then, she would've disintegrated into dust.

Somewhere in the southwestern side of Newtopia, along the inside of the outermost wall, there was a large district unlike any other. Instead of smooth paved roads that were regularly cleaned, the roads here were rough and densely packed, made to handle heavy loads. The buildings were either made of solid brick left exposed or cured timber, roughly cut and shoddily painted. There were no markets but instead warehouses, and there were no stores and general services but rather, mills and factories. It was loud, messy, uncouth and full of rough-and-tough people going about, transporting goods and materials all over, both volatile and luxurious.

This was the beating heart of Newtopia – the very foundation of any city. Any product, from the ever common potato to the most sought-after uncut gems, would pass this section of the city at least once in its lifetime.

This was Newtopia's industrial district.

Sasha took a whiff of the air and immediately scrunched up. It smelled of mineral oils and burning coal – not a pleasant smell. Back in Wartwood, the air was fresh and cool, albeit with a hint of swampy undertones. It wasn't perfect but it was infinitely better than this.

Meanwhile, behind her was Bella the bellhop or more appropriately, Bella the tour guide. Unlike at the hotel, she wasn't wearing her standard uniform and instead, wore a more casual varsity jacket of Newtopia University and a pair of cloth pants. She also ditched the hat, replacing it with a warm magenta headband.

Bella coughed as some dust got in her throat. "Ack! Ogh-okay, we're here, Ms Sasha. This is the industrial district. Not exactly a place for tourists…"

"Yeah, I can tell." Sasha replied sarcastically. "So, where do we go from here, Bellahop?"

"It's just Bella. And why would you ask me?"

Sasha raised a brow. "You're literally the guide."

Bella turned away and cursed under her breath. "Newt drops, you're right!" She returned to her guest and fiddled with her fingers. " Can I be honest with you?"

"I'd rather you not but sure."

"I… am not a guide." She said, gritting her teeth. "I'm just a hotel bellhop. I've never even been to the industrial district! I've been to downtown and midtown at best! Uptown is for rich people and I have zero business even thinking of going here."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sasha sighed. Just when things were heading to the right direction, life had a bad habit of throwing curve balls. And she was damn sure this had nothing to do with her karma; she's been a good girl the entire time she's been in Newtopia.

Well, she did break that one guy's arm two days ago…

"Great, this has been off to a wonderful start." She said out loud, as if mocking the world itself.

"Well, where—!" Sasha took a deep breath. "Where… have you been, then?"

Bella gave it some thought. "Before this? I enrolled in Newtopia University, studying Art History. Before that, I came from Wheaton – that's a farming town in the southwest. I did stay at my grunkle's place in Stony Gulch one time but I don't actually like it there."

Stony Gulch? Oh, she visited there at one point. The people there were mean, the sheriff was a jerk and she almost got charged for home invasion. She did like Javi and Kettle though – they were nice. Wonder if they're still around…?

Regardless, this whole turn of events has left her nothing short of disappointed. But that won't stop her; Sasha was an opportunist. "Might as well make yourself useful. You're going to help me find Gerda!"

"Oh, okay." Bella nodded like it was obvious. "… Who is Gerda?"

"I have no idea!"

And off they went on this directionless scavenger hunt, looking for a specific person who they knew nothing about other than a name.

Gerda… What a rather interesting name. On Earth, it's a name with deep roots in Scandinavian culture, specifically Old Norse mythology. Meaning 'fenced-in', Gerda was a giantess and wife of Freyr, god of kingship, fertility, fair weather and good harvest. Gerda was also the name of the main character in the acclaimed 19th-century fairy tale 'Snedronningen', written by Danish author Hans Christian.

However, while the name 'Gerda' was common in North Europe, it was less so in Los Angeles, California. Sasha didn't know anyone named 'Gerda' and the name 'Sasha' itself was already Germanic by origin.

Still, regardless of origin, Sasha was no quitter. She was adamant on finding this lady and only through the will of the frog gods would she even think of stopping.

And oh boy, did the frog gods of Amphibia made it hard for her.

"We've been searching for 2 hours and we have gotten nowhere!" Sasha screamed into the heavens, scaring passers-by into hushed whispers. She then let herself flop like pudding, resting her entire body on a public bench, her wrapped shield leaning next to her feet. "I'm starting to think that Loggle actually lied to me. I mean, how could not a single person recognise the name 'Gerda'? Is it that rare of a name?"

Sitting next to her, Bella was enjoying her sandwich. Sure, the lettuce was flimsy and the tomatoes were too watery now, but a sandwich was a sandwich. She swallowed before speaking. "I-if it makes you feel better, I also don't know any person named 'Gerda'."

"It does not but I appreciate the sentiment."

Closing her eyes and leaning back, her legs spread out and her head perpendicular to the sky, Sasha hummed and began to think. "Hmm… maybe we need to change tactics. Clearly, asking about a woman named 'Gerda' is giving us nothing. But that's kinda the only information I have so…"

After taking one last bite, Bella's ruined sandwich has finally left the planes of existence. Normally, she'd wipe her mouth with some tissue but she didn't bring any, so her mouth was just going to be mildly uncomfortable until she went to the restroom.

And maybe, just maybe, she could ditch this whole quest and head on back home. I mean, she did guide the guest to the industrial district. That was the deal, right? There was no guarantee that she had to find the blacksmith for her.

"W-well, considering the circumstances, I think my job here is done." She said with forced enthusiasm. With a jolly swing of her arm, she turned around and briskly paced away. "Good luck with your search, Ms Sasha!"

She only took two steps before an arm stretched out and pulled her by her tail. "And where do you think you're going? You're staying with me until I find Gerda."

"B-b-but that's not part of my job scope! I'm just a bellhop!" Bella stammered an argument.

And to be fair, it was a legitimate argument. Bella the bellhop should be hopping on bells and delivering luggage, not guiding ugly blondes to sketchy alleyways. Considering this was so far from the hotel's premises, was she even working right now? Shouldn't her job be concentrated only in the private property that was the luxury residences?

Was she working off the clock? Dear newt, if she was, then all hope was lost. The hotel staff had no union, so she'd be paying this out of her own pocket. She was already swamped with college debt; she couldn't afford to waste her precious free time.

First was her lunch and now, her time-off? Nothing could make this worse.

"True, true, but the hotel recommended you to me as a guide. And I intend to make the most of that." Sasha, the devil in human skin, scoffed. "What would your boss think if you came back by yourself? I mean, leaving a guest all on her own in this dirty, rough-and-tumble place? Tsk, tsk, tsk – that's worth a bad review."

It got worse.

"Buuuuut I'm not a bad person." Sasha continued, saying something a definitely-not bad person would say. "If you help me, then I'll reward you. Let's say… ten times your daily wage. How's that sound?"

KA-CHING!

The newt grabbed her hand and like a prayer to angels, she smiled priestly, assuming you ignore the money-hungry eyes. "Ms Sasha, I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

"Yeah, don't do that."

Just then, small ball-shaped creatures appeared out of nowhere. About the size of kittens, these furry little fairies were diverse to an almost fantastical degree, yet maintained an oddly cute though abnormal appearance. Compared with everything else in Amphibia, they seemed out of place as if they didn't belong here.

Preoccupied, Sasha didn't notice their sudden manifestation, hidden underneath the bench. Silently, they climbed up the bench from the side and sniffed the wrapped shield next to her. After some shared glances, one of them grabbed the item and tossed it onto the head of another and without further delay, jogged away like a marching of ducklings.

While Sasha may not have noticed them leaving with her prized possession, someone else did. A certain bellhop, perhaps.

Bella gasped and pointed towards behind the teenager. "Benefactor Sasha! Your thing!"

"What did you just call me?" Sasha promptly asked. Turning around, her eyes widened immediately. "AH, MY SHIELD!"

Now found, the critters scampered away at breakneck speed, and both Sasha and Bella gave chase.

Although small, they were surprising nimble, even with the heavy (in comparison) shield on them. They entered a nearby alleyway and Sasha was hot on their trail. But like rats, these furry creatures were annoying to catch, scampering in-between small holes, crevices and other tough to reach places. Every time Sasha got close, they'd instantly switch directions and scatter, ignoring the laws of momentum as if it was just a suggestion. Eventually, they'd regroup seconds later, much to her frustration. It was even worse when she saw them pass her shield around like a game of hot potato.

But no one's lucky forever, especially not tiny creatures of fae and fuzz. Exiting the alleys, the gang of mischievous furballs waltzed into a secondary road – a open clearing with shops lined by the side, just off to the main road where most of the traffic resided. Seeing no one around, the group stopped halfway and started a meeting, chirping at one another as a form of unintelligible communication.

What were they talking about? Where to go next, or where they were currently? Who could tell; it's not like anyone could speak their language, if they even had one.

Regardless, this was their undoing. Gathered out in the open, a rather angry individual glared from the shadows of the alleyway. Like a panther, this individual pounced towards them with her arms wide open, lunging with non-existent claws. She crashed right on top, skirting across and just above the dirt.

Sasha, the individual in question, toothily smiled. She finally managed to catch one.

"Got you, you little sh—" SNAP! Sasha let go. "GAH! WHAT THE HECK?! IT BIT ME!"

Free once more, the fuzzball dashed off with their fellows, leaving behind her shield; they probably thought it was too much of a hassle. Sasha hastily snatched it back before anything else could happen though, just in case. With a quick check, it looked like the shield was undamaged – well, less undamaged.

Sasha sighed and held onto the shield tightly; that was exhausting.

Following from behind, Bella wheezed and panted. "Hah-hah…! Benefactor Sasha! Are you alright?"

Sasha scratched her head, somewhat frustrated. "Ugh, I'm fine. Also, it's kinda weird that you're calling me 'Benefactor'."

"Oh…" Bella oh'd. "Do you want me to stop?"

She smirked. "Heck, no! I actually like it. Makes me feel rich." She replied, her face flushed with pride. "Anyway, where are we? And what is up with those little… things?"

Bella stared up and held her chin in thought. "I think I've read about them before. They're called Critters."

"Critters? Like rats?"

"Rats? Oh no, rats are much bigger than this. I would know; I had to fight one once in a basement." She said nonchalantly. "Sorry but I don't remember much other than the name. My brother's the expert in these things."

Sasha blinked. "Huh… You have a brother?"

For a moment, Bella's eyes widened but then, she looked away. Sasha briefly saw her eyes; to her, the best way to describe it was a deep melancholy – sadness but with spots of hope. Bella herself was silent for a while but it didn't last long. Within moments, she realised her rather uncharacteristic behaviour and smacked both her cheeks simultaneously, snapping out of it.

"S-sorry! That was rude. It's just… I don't want to talk about it…" Bella replied, turning quieter as she reached the end.

Bella expected her guess to pry more but instead, Sasha only raised a brow and shrugged. "Whatever, it's your business." She responded lackadaisically. "Anyway, those little freaks are gone now. Can't believe they tried to steal my shield."

She didn't understand. Why would those things even want her shield anyway? Like, what were they going to do? Eat it? Surely, there were better objects around here that were actually edible. This was the industrial district, full of factories and raw resources. If they wanted to have an iron-heavy lunch, they could just walk to the nearest steelworks and eat an anvil.

Additionally, these little critters seemed awfully familiar to her, enough so that it seemed weird that they were here at all. Back in Wartwood, she had encountered such creatures on the night of the Bizarre Bazaar, a mysterious open market that stopped by Frog Valley every so often. They didn't look exactly the same but they were similar enough that she couldn't have mistaken it. But that was in the middle of the undeveloped woods, not the densely-populated city. Was there going to be another Bizarre Bazaar?

Not that it mattered to her. She already went there once to find clues about the music box and it ended up a dead end. She had no other reason to participate once more, except probably getting souvenirs for Sprig. Plus, she technically manhandled the messengers, so there was no way in frog hell that she was getting an invitation this time around.

Now with her shield safe, Sasha looked around to get her bearings straight. The chase through the alleyway was full of twists and turns, so she'd rather not retrace her steps through there. Just as she examined her surroundings, she noticed a familiar word on one of the signs of the shop in front of her.

"'Leopold'…?" Sasha read out loud. Her eyes then widened as an epiphany struck her in the head. "Oh my frog, this is it! This is what I've been looking for!"

PPPRING—FYOOOM!

Not wanting to wait, Sasha rushed to the front door, leaving a confused Bella to follow close by. The door opened, its welcome bell chiming above her. But the very instance she took a step inside, Sasha's eyes suddenly flashed pink and she felt a loud but low boom in her ears – not enough to hurt but enough to cause her to winch. The sensation went by in a flash and Sasha looked around, confused over what just happened.

Passing from behind, Bella stood in awe at what she seeing. This rather unassuming store, the one her guest was looking for this whole time, was filled to the brim with all manner of random items and misplaced objects, including various armaments that fit more in fiction than reality. "Whoa! This place is amazing."

So many trinkets and doodads, all seemingly arbitrary and out of place. One box was full of apples but right next to it were bowling balls and pirate swords. Hung from the ceiling were clocks, keys, wind chimes and anchors. There were displays for various fruits and vegetables, construction tools and even life-sized pillows of newts she didn't recognise.

Well, almost life-sized. She was pretty King Andrias wasn't that small.

… Wait a minute, was that Marcy—

"OH MY LEVIATHAN!" Bella screamed out of nowhere, scaring Sasha out of her train of thought. "IS THAT THE LEGENDARY TOAD SHIELD 'EDMUN'?!"

"It sure is! You've got a good eye, dear customer." A new voice spoke.

The newt girl and the human girl turned to the voice, revealing a small axolotl right beside them. She was a head taller than Hop Pop but still quite short compared to Sasha, with light-blue skin and medium-long curly white hair tied by a brownish-red scarf, which was plaited around and into her hair, her gill stalks protruding just barely. She wore olive green bib overalls with brown straps over her white undershirt, a pair of dark grey boots and thick yellow welder gloves. She also had a tool belt around her waist and interestingly, the same goggles that Loggle wore, though hanging around her neck.

"My name is Ida. Welcome to Leopold's! What can I do for ya?"

So, she's the one running this joint. Sasha stepped forward or at least, she would've, had Bella not moved first. "Nice to meet you! I gotta ask; is that the real Edmun?"

Ida raised a brow, then laughed, slapping her knee. "A real Edmun? You kidding? A historical artefact like that wouldn't be in this shop, ma'am. Nay, that's just a replica. It's an old commission several decades ago but the commissioner never came to pick it up. So it's decoration now."

The legendary toad shield, Edmun – more specifically, a replica – was proudly displayed in an uncovered frame, hanging on the wall just out of reach. It was a heater shield not unlike her own but with some distinct differences. There were no straight edges; the upper and side edges were curved inwards, creating a heavy-looking bottom which itself was as broad as the top, creating a duller taper. Furthermore, it had a wooden back hidden from view and a rugged metallic border with a greyish tone, combining the two materials. The base – a type of metal – was tinted a dark magenta but with red streaks crossing it diagonally. Additionally, this base had an embossed silver vertical line running from top to bottom and like a bow on a Christmas present, the replica was finished by a cyan emblem placed at the centre that could only be described as two geometrically-shaped birds, their backs against one another and when combined, looked a lot like a heart symbol.

There was a sort of contrast with how straight and angular the vertical line and emblem were, in comparison to the curved body. The cyan birds also stood out, being the only pieces whose colour were non-complementary with the rest.

Oddly enough, the shield had tear marks running across it, as well as welded dimples on the metallic border. Were these deliberately put for historical accuracy or a manufacturing error?

Bella, however, didn't seem too bothered by it. "That's incredible! It's almost like the real one! All its missing are the spikes." She squee'd in glee.

Spikes? Edmun had spikes? Sasha frowned; she didn't say it but she personally thought her broken spike-less shield was cooler. Her shield didn't need spikes.

FYOOOM!

Sasha flinched. It was that ominous booming noise again. Did she get something stuck in her ear?

She shook her head, ignoring it for now. "Whatever. Is Gerda here?"

Ida's brows raised. "Grandma?" Her gaze turned sharp. "What are you, a debt collector?"

"Girl, do I look like a debt collector?"

Ida hummed. "You bring up a fair argument. You're much more pretty than them."

Sasha blushed. That's the first time someone called her pretty since coming in this slime-infested world.

"But that still doesn't convince me. Who are you and what business do you have with Grandma Gerda?" Ida asked, her arms crossed and her brows furrowed.

Sasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a monocle – the same one Loggle gave to her for this very meeting, prior leaving for Newtopia. She always kept it in her pocket. You know, just in case.

"Is this enough to convince you?" Sasha asked, showing the item in hand.

Ida only took a cursory glance and gasped. "Great Axolotl! This is a Leopold's!" She shouted in shock. "Where did you get this?!"

"Call your grandma and I'll give you an answer."

While Ida left to fetch Gerda – who was apparently her grandma – Sasha collected her thoughts, specifically about Loggle. Considering that Ida was also an axolotl, it's safe to assume that she and Gerda were members of Loggle's family. This was especially given the fact that this place was named 'Leopold' and well, that's Loggle's name. So there must be a connection.

What's bothering her was that Leopold Loggle, the town's local wacky weirdo (notwithstanding Wally), was from Newtopia. Like, what was he doing all the way out in Wartwood? To be fair, Sasha liked Wartwood but it's an underdeveloped countryside town full of gullible peasants and colourful hicks. And that was her being affectionate.

Really, it wasn't Wartwood that was the issue. It just seemed weird for him to move away from a large city to a considerably smaller one in the middle of nowhere.

Sasha never got to finish that thought topic; the guest of honour had finally arrived.

Gerda was… not really that old. That was Sasha's first thought. She had assumed that the woman Loggle recommended to her was an old lady and oh boy, did she assume wrong. Now, Gerda was definitely on the elderly side but she was also younger that Hop Pop in terms of appearance.

Less wrinkles, thicker hair and she even got some muscle and fat underneath her skin, mostly hidden by the burgundy sweater she was wearing. Much like Loggle and Ida, she also had white hair, though at least Loggle had a slight blue tint in his, while Ida was more on the platinum side herself. Gerda, however, was full white and curly, her gill stalks sticking out of her head like horns. Other than her sweater, she wore a brown skirt that had seen better days and, curiously, a pair of wooden clogs. And to top it all off, she too wore the same pair of goggles as both Loggle and Ida.

Gerda stared at Sasha, her nose wrinkled and eyes squinted behind the googles. "Huh? Who are you?"

Sasha stepped forward to introduce herself. "The name's Sash—"

"Who are you?!"

Sasha paused. "… As I was about to say, I'm Sash—"

"Who are you?!"

"… Sa—"

"WHO ARE YOU?!"

"SASHA!" The girl shouted, exasperated. "SASHA WAYBRIGHT!"

Gerda pouted, as if she wasn't satisfied with the answer. "Shama? Your name is Shama?" The old woman scoffed. "What a weird name. You have a weird name, Shama."

"It's. Sasha." She stressfully enunciated. "S-A-S-H-A. Sasha."

"That's a weird way to spell your name. Shama. Must be a foreign dialect." Gerda replied dismissively, much to Shama's annoyance. "Now, what you want?! And how'd you get Leopold Loggle's crest?"

The blonde's eyes widened, looking back at the item in her hand. "This thing is a crest? I thought it was a monocle."

"It's actually a magnifier. It's used for work and inspect the finer details." Gerda explained. She then hit Sasha in the arm, much to her shock.

SMACK! "OW!"

"Also, it can be both! Why shouldn't it?! What do you have against magnifiers that also happen to be family crests?!" Gerda questioned, hitting her arm again.

SMACK! "Hey! N-nothing! I don't even have a family crest!"

"No family crest? So you must be a pleb, then."

SMACK!

"Will you stop that?!" Sasha yelled.

Gerda hummed, finally holding back. "Hmm, at least there's some meat behind those twiggly arms of yours." She exclaimed. It was unsure whether that was a compliment or an insult. "Now, what do you want?"

Sasha rubbed her arm. It didn't hurt but a punch was still a punch. Wasting no more time, she showed the Leopolds her shield, unwrapping it on the counter. Gerda stared at the sorry mess, a brow raised.

"What am I looking at?"

"It's a shield." Sasha answered.

Both Gerda and Ida gawked at its condition. "A shield?!" The old lady yelled. "What, did you try to block a cannonball or something? Look at this thing; it's got a hole the size of an orange through it!"

Sasha frowned. Yes, she was aware; she was wielding it when that happened. "L-look, how it got in this state doesn't matter. Can. You. Fix. It?"

Gerda climbed up to the counter and took a closer look, twisting the magnifier in her goggles with satisfying clicks. She began inspecting the damage – as obvious as it was – and came to conclusion. "It looks like a cuckoo's bird nest: mangled, abused and full of tragedy." She noted. "But… well-cared for. I can see that you've been maintaining it to the best of your ability."

Sasha scratched the back of her head. "I clean it sometimes and… I guess I occasionally oil it. I heard you're supposed to do that."

Gerda nodded. "Not wrong but you used vegetable oil. This is a shield, not a frying pan. Try scorpion oil next time. It's what the toads use."

A bit too late on that.

Sasha coughed. "A-hem! So… what's the diagnosis, doc?"

Gerda continued her inspection, once in a while humming and making noises. She then got down from the counter and grabbed the shield. "Hmm… Hmph! Well, I know exactly what to do."

With the shield in her arms, Gerda walked over to one of the display tables and placed it on an empty space. There, she covered the shield with a thin beige cloth and, from beneath the table, took out and placed on the covered shield's hole… a decorative glass orb.

"Perfect! That hole is just the right size and place to act as a display for my orb collection!" Gerda cheered.

Sasha gawked. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Gerda turned towards her, confused. "Hm? I'm turning your thingamabob into a display stand. What do you think I'm doing?"

"THAT IS MY SHIELD! NOT A HOLDER FOR ONE OF YOUR ORB THINGS!" She shrieked, utterly furious. "GIVE IT BACK!"

Gerda, feeling slightly threatened, quickly grabbed her orb and stepped back. "Alright, sheesh. Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the lily pad."

Sasha hastily took back her shield, throwing away the cloth. She kept the shield close to her as she turned her attention towards the old lady, her eyes burning with rage. "I thought you said you were going to fix it!"

The axolotl raised her brow. "Fix it? Have you even seen it? It's trashed. Besides, this isn't even that kind of store."

That kind of store? "What are you…?"

Sasha was completely perplexed over that statement. At least, until she began to look closer at her surroundings. She already noted how weird the merchandise were but she didn't truly comprehend how weird it was. It wasn't just the haphazard placement and décor but rather, the whole range of products itself. From a table next to her, Sasha grabbed a display knife and to her surprise, it was light.

Too light.

She then proceeded to stab Bella.

"WALAHEEEE!"

The knife plunged itself into Bella's side or rather, it should have. However, the blade instead retracted into the handle, disappearing just as a little bit of force was pushed on its tip. Sasha pulled back and like a spring, the blade extended as normal like it was none the wiser.

This… wasn't a knife at all.

That's when it hit her. "Are these… all fake?" Sasha asked, absolutely baffled.

Ida stepped in and swung her arm with joy and delight. "You betcha! Welcome to Leopold's Leo-Props! If you need a prop, then Leopold's got you!"

Leopold's Leo-Props.

Sasha's eyes bulged so much, it almost shot out from her head. "Oh my god, you guys make movie props!?"

Ida nodded with a salute. "Yes, ma'am! If it exists, it can be faked for all your theatre needs. Want a vegetable that doesn't wilt? We have dozens of them. Want a war-hammer that doesn't maim? We've got a few designs. Want a doll of your favourite celebrity? We have all the dolls!"

Ida then leaned very close to Sasha's face and whispered. "We actually have way too many dolls. The guy that paid for them got arrested for substance abuse and we've been trying to clear them out since."

"What kind of dolls?" Bella, who heard the whole thing, asked.

Ida turned towards Bella and smiled. "All sort of celebrity figures. We've got the right-hand woman Lady Olivia, the popular-with-kids General Yunan, and even the ruler of 1,000 years King Andrias. We even have one for the famous gladiator 'The Shellbreaker' but that one doesn't sell well." She exclaimed. "If you don't like any of these, not to worry! We've repackaged most into these DIY doll-maker kits for kids."

"Oh wow, I'd totally buy these if I had money."

Sasha was done.

"Enough! I don't care about the darn plushies!" She yelled, getting more and more aggravated by the second. "You serious about not being able to fix my shield?!"

Ida glanced at her grandmother but the latter stayed silent. "Ms Sasha, I understand that this must be frustrating but we Leopolds haven't forged any kind of weapons and armour for over a decade. Not since the incident…"

"What incident?"

The two Leopolds shared a glance but didn't answer. Sasha, already frustrated as she was, decided this was the final straw and ultimately, threw in the towel. "You know what? Fine, whatever! It's not like I trekked halfway across the frogging continent to get here!" She growled, her face flushed red and her blood pressure at its max. "I can't believe Loggle sent me on a stupid quest that got me nowhere! Grah! This is the last time I listen to his weirdo ramblings!"

Ida gasped. "Cousin Loggle is not wei—"

Before she could finish, Gerda stopped her and moved in front. "Look, girlie, how about a deal? You sell me that shield for—I don't know, a few coppers. We'll figure out the details later—and I'll give you a referral to some actual armoursmiths and they'll set you up with a new shield. Probably even better than that junk you've been carrying around."

Sasha croaked, taking offence. She hugged her shield tightly. "This is not junk. This shield saved my life."

"Maybe so, and it served its duty well. But now—" Gerda stared at the girl right in the eyes, her scared reflection visible off the lenses."—it can't do its duty anymore."

Sasha flinched, taking a step back. Gerda's words; they hurt and filled her with her with rage, anxiety and fear. It was insulting and worse than that, it was dismissive. To be cast aside just because it was no longer useable was a terrible fate.

Why shouldn't her shield be repaired? Why should she replace it? Why couldn't she keep it with her as she always had? There was no single answer that could bring her satisfaction and peace. So, if such answer didn't exist, then the questions themselves must be false.

Right?

Sasha gritted her teeth hard and glared daggers at the old woman. She refused such notion. "If you can't fix it," she growled with a low volume. "then I'll find someone who can."

Sasha did not wait; she stormed out of the shop, pulling the door open on the way as if she was going to rip it off its hinges. Bella, who was inadvertently left behind, gave a quick apology and chased after her. Meanwhile, the two shopkeepers stood and watched in silence.

Gerda sighed. Children were so sentimental.

The industrial district – a place where dreams came true, only if they involved building something. And there were a lot building. Sasha and Bella had no issue finding blacksmiths and armour craftsmen to help them. Heck, all they had to do was walk down the street and there were like 5 of them.

Now, the problem came to actually helping them.

No matter which store they went to, it was always the same; Sasha would show them her shield and they'd refuse to fix it. It was worse when they tried to sell her their own products, as if that was why she was there. Every and all of them didn't get it. None of them understood and with each passing store they visited, her frustration and desperation only grew. Sure, she could pay it all with the black credit card (that she currently didn't have) but the numbers she was pulling out were getting exponentially bigger.

Yet, no matter how big the cost grew, she could tell; none were being honest. She didn't know why but for the very few that did accept, her instincts told her that they weren't to be trusted, that they were going to throw away her shield and give her an identical one, or melt it down into a completely new product. And when her instincts told her that, she felt a pit of disgust.

Eventually, after store and after store, the sky turned dark and sun was halfway into the horizon.

"Benefactor Sasha, I don't think this is working." Bella said with worry in her words.

Sasha groaned, stomping as she continued walking. "No frog, Sherlock." She spat harshly. "For folks good with their hands, they sure suck at their words. Liars, the lot of them."

"That's sounds a bit harsh…"

"I'd say it's not harsh enough."

Bella stared at the darkening sky and noticed the street lights turning on. "Maybe we should take a break? It is getting dark and I don't think any workshop's going to be opened at night."

It was also past her working hours; something she didn't say it but it was kind of implied. There were no unions in the hotel – unions weren't seen favourably in Newtopia outside of certain sects – but she'd rather not work overtime. She probably wouldn't even be paid overtime! She dared not to imagine what Mr Moseby would say.

Just as Sasha continued walking, ignoring the anxious Bella behind her, a familiar yet rather unwelcomed fellow appeared. Sasha's eyes widened.

"You're…"

(One Piece – Minato Mura)

A few minutes later, they were at a bar.

Well, that's no surprise. Once everyone was done with work, their arms sore and their stomachs rumbling, where else would they go? They were being paid for scraps, working long hours doing gruelling, physical work. Tired, hungry and in pain, they wouldn't have the time nor energy to go home and cook themselves a meal, assuming they had a kitchen to begin with.

So, for breakfast, lunch and dinner, they'd eat out. Now, none of them could afford the fancy restaurants that the bigwigs in the central district were having, especially not for at least 3 meals a day. This left only the commoners' pub, a neutral and warm place for rest and relaxation. It was nothing like the extravagant and high-class Hemisphere Hotel but it had its own rustic charm.

The industrial district was littered with taverns, bars and pubs, opened 24 hours a day. Their meal selection was abysmal, limited to only 2-3 dishes each day, swapping based on what ingredients they had available. Their drinks weren't that impressive either, consisting of only the most boring refreshments like water and beer. In the mornings, they'd serve a completely black and inhumanely austere tar which they called 'coffee' and for some reason, the workers would come in droves for.

They also had beds; kind of the only thing that was good.

However, this particular tavern was known for their overwhelming delicious cider and worth checking out. That was, according to the new guest.

Sasha took a huge swig from her tankard, swallowing several large glugs and slamming the drinkware on the table. "Bwah! This is delicious!" She shouted with a smile, her cheeks tinged with a light pink. She then looked inside the container, examining the remaining liquid. "What is this stuff anyway?"

Their new guest, who happened to be Ida, lifted her head. "It's a local delicacy – salt apple cider."

"Salt apple cider…" Sasha mumbled, the words falling out of her mouth. She then hiccuped and began cackling. "I like it! It's all fizzy and brown and it makes me feel tingly."

She proceeded to gulp some more. Someone should tell her to slow down.

And now, for a brief history lesson. These fair ladies were currently at the famous Salt Apple Spittoon, a tavern owned by a family of salt apple farmers, the Saltapples. Creative, huh?

Anyway, the tavern was situated off in the distance, northeast from the rest of the industrial district, propped on a low and solitary hill. It had a wonderful view of the area and were visited mostly by travellers and traders rather than the local craftsmen. Being closer to the city's hub, its prices reflected that but due to Ida's family generations-long personal relationship with its owners, they're privileged to an eye-popping discount, making them one of the few who were able to eat here affordably.

Ida – full name Leopold Ida – scratched her cheeks awkwardly. She didn't realise Sasha would like it that much. She was right to bring her here. "A-hem, Ms Sasha?" Ida called, grabbing her attention. "I'd like to apologize over what happened at the shop. I'm sorry that we couldn't provide the service you were expecting after coming here from so far away. As a Leopold, I'm ashamed over what occurred."

Sasha looked at her tankard, now empty. She lips pursed, expressing so many complex emotions, only to conclude with closed eyes and a weak sigh. "Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore."

Placing her tankard down, Sasha stared at her shield, its form covered by the same blanket she brought with her from the hotel. With the way it was wrapped, it grimly mirrored a body, freshly cleaned and awaiting its funeral.

Ida noticed the clouding mood and so, steered the conversation to a more positive topic. "I recall you saying that the shield saved your life once." Ida brought up.

Sasha lifted her head to her and nodded. "Not once. Several times."

"Oh?"

She smiled honestly and began to reminisce. "Yep. I was in a fight against some toads and got pushed back. I probably would've bitten the dust back then but lucky me, I pulled this guy out of a random pile and beat the snot out of them." She grabbed her clothed shield, holding it gently as if it was a newborn. "Since then, the shield and I got through a lot of trouble. Just having it made me feel… safe…"

Ida nodded understandingly. "A reliable shield. One that has performed its duty perfectly."

The girl scoffed. "Yeah but alas, not reliable enough."

Sasha lifted her tankard and motioned at the bartender. Without a word, her cup was filled to the brim and she took an audible series of glugs, long enough to lose her breath. She stopped halfway and sighed loudly. "I… had a fight with my best friend. We got into an argument, threw some fists and eventually, she did this."

She pulled the cloth apart slightly, revealing the hole that pierced through the shield's base. Bella gasped. "Holy Leviathan, what kind of a monster of a friend could do that?!"

Sasha chuckled, hearing her best friend being called a 'monster'. "Pfft, well it shocked me too. She even got a second hit on me and let's just say that my chest has been feeling a bit tighter than usual ever since."

Then, the chuckles stopped and the despondency returned. "She was… so strong that night. So unbelievable strong. She took me down in two hits. TWO!" Sasha stated, dispirited by the fact. "Maybe she was always strong and I just didn't see it. But that doesn't matter now, does it? In the end, she broke my shield, beat the frogging turnips out of me and everything came crashing down. Literally."

Sasha's hand – the one on the shield – became tense. "I just… I don't want to lose more things. I've already lost my best friend. I don't want to lose this one too."

She only had the shield for a short while and only used it for a small number of times. Yet, in all scenarios, in all events, the one thing that stayed with her, unrelenting and absolute, was the shield within her reach. Or more precisely, the safety that the shield provided. To her, the world could crumble and crash on top of her but as long as she held that shield high, then she could protect herself and those behind her.

Like a blanket for a child afraid of the dark.

With Sasha's heart now exposed and laid on the table, Ida started to speak.

"Up till 15 years ago, we Leopolds were the craftsmen of craftsmen." Ida began. "Our family history has dated back since the founding of Newtopia. We, the Leopolds, built this city. Every brick on that wall was placed by a Leopold and has been for millennia."

Ida turned to Sasha, looking straight into her. "And Loggle? He was the best of us. He could craft anything out of anything. He was a bit eccentric but nobody could best his genius."

Ida remembered it like it was yesterday. Despite being a young apprentice at the time, she still could see the grandiose weapons and armour – real ones – that lined along the windows and displayed to the busy street. They used to receive commissions directly from the Royal Court and supplied the various Newtopian militaries, from the ever so large General Army to the highly noble Royal Guard. In fact, the equipment they supplied were so great, it would be passed down as heirlooms by soldiers to their children who would later become soldiers themselves.

As they'd say; 'Nothing less than a Leopold's'.

"But, like any long-standing families, rumours started spreading. Our skills were 'waning', they'd say. Our creations 'subpar' and our military stock 'breaking in the heat of battle'." Ida frowned. "Bad rumours were bad for business but we were Leopolds! So what if some people criticized our work? We didn't care. I was still considerably better than anyone else's."

"But then, the accidents occurred."

Ida took a swig of her cider; she was going to need it.

"Bah! Missing supplies, broken equipment, fires in the workshops! We endured time and time again but it only got worse until the Great Burning." She exclaimed, feeling the heat rise across her face. "On one night those many years ago, a terrible fire spread across the entire industrial district, destroying over half of the area. Countless lives were lost and those who survived lost their livelihoods."

"We suffered just the same but… people were angry. They needed someone to blame and point fingers at. Ultimately, those fingers rested on us Leopolds. We were the biggest at the time and 'had motive', even though it was all scrap. Nothing but corrupted politics and black-ledger business." Ida explained, followed by a loud sigh. "We paid for the damages and our employees quit, not wanting to be associated wit us anymore. Years of hard work to rebuild our fallen noble heritage, just to be dragged through the mud once more!"

The instance she yelled, Sasha flinched. "Wow… That… kinda sucks…"

"And you know what's worse? Appaaaaarently, that's not enough to some people." She said, her tone poised with vitriol. But she held her breath and gradually calmed down. "… A few nights afterwards, some vagabond broke into our home, wanting to steal the remaining pittance left in our coffers. But Cousin Loggle was there to stop him."

Ida closed her eyes, the memory of that fateful evening burned into her eyelids.

She was just an apprentice at the time, still learning from her elders and working on the fundamentals. Late past the sunset, she was working tirelessly at the forge, hammering hot ingots into metal nails. It's boring work but someone had to do it. However, she didn't realise that the back door was being picked and silently, it opened out of her view. A shadowy figure, cloaked both literally and by the darkness of the night, crept through the Leopold family home. Neck-deep in her work, the young Ida didn't notice a person trudging quietly behind her. The figure wanted to avoid any and all confrontation, so they avoided bothering her.

And they would've gotten away with it too, had Ida not turn around at the most inconvenient time. The young Ida screamed, demanding to know who they were, but the uninvited cur brandished a pair of claws and charged at her. Being only a craftsman, she was utterly defenceless and shrieked.

That's when Loggle appeared, standing a mighty 6ft tall with rock-hard muscles and broad shoulders. With a thick moustache and a full-head of glorious bluish curled locks, he resembled that of the Greek mortal Adonis, his body and form chiselled as if marble. Hearing the shriek, he quickly dispatched himself, slamming into the vagabond with the force of an ox.

"He beat the toadstool out of the guy! He was incredible that night!" Ida cheered.

The intruder quickly got back up and charged at him with their claws. Loggle, with his heavy-duty gloves, grabbed both their arms crossed the claws with one another. With a flick, he shattered them into a million pieces, broken by each other. Now unarmed, Loggle proceeded to grab them by their cloak and punched them repeatedly. Finally, lifted them up and tossed them into a bunch of stored items, smashing and toppling the items onto them like a deck of cards. Patting his gloves clean, he went to check on Ida, kneeling to her height.

"But, just as he thought the fight was over, the burglar still wasn't done."

Too preoccupied with the crying girl, Loggle failed to notice the clawless foe recovering. They grabbed an iron poker, its tip burning red from the forge's intense flame, and sneaked up on him. Just as he got close, Ida saw the shadow of the intruder and screamed, and Loggle turned around as quick as he could. Tragically, it was too late.

SCHLICK! PSSSST!

Despite the blinding, piercing pain, Loggle grabbed the poker, snapped it in half with a firm grip, then grabbed the assailant before throwing them across the entire house, exiting through smashing the front door. Loggle, injured and unable to breath, promptly fainted, leaving a bawling young axolotl in his wake.

Ida opened her eyes. "… Since then, he decided that he had to leave. He never said why but Grandma Gerda seems to know." She said, ending the story. She took a sip for her parched throat, much more reserved that prior. "We get letters from time to time about his new life in some town but he never gives us its name. Honestly, I haven't seen him in person for a long time."

Nearby, both Sasha and Bella were awestruck. Bella, unfamiliar with this 'Loggle' person, was enamoured by the description and fair tale. She always had a type for hot, hunky dudes and here she was, conversing with someone related to such a heroic figure. Sasha, on the other hand, had a different experience. Having acquainted with him, she could barely believe if Ida's story was real. It was too far-fetched compared to the real-life figure that she was aware of and accustomed to.

But, regardless of the authenticity of the story, she did understand something – indignity. "Wow… After hearing all of that, I kinda feel bad about being mad at you guys. It kinda makes my issue seem like a big bite out of a nothing-burger." She said, scratching the back of her head shamefully.

Ida looked at Sasha, gobsmacked, and hastily waved and shook her head. "Don't think of it like that!" She swiftly said. "I told you this story because I wanted you to understand that just because someone or something isn't in our lives anymore, doesn't devalue the impact they had to us. Just as that shield saved your life, Cousin Loggle saved mine. And even though there's little chance of me seeing him again, I'm still glad that he was there that night."

Like a lightning bolt, Sasha felt those words pierce through her, finally clicking in her mind. As much as it pained her, the shield – her shield – was no longer worthy of use. At its current mangled state, it was more of a liability than a useful tool. It was painful to admit, like ripping one's heart out, but so long as she continued to use it, then she wouldn't be able to protect anyone, not even herself. Her time with this hunk of metal was short and sweet, and she was grateful for every minute of it.

To the bitter end, it has performed its duty well. She wouldn't have had it any other way.

Sasha closed her eyes and smiled, feeling water build up within them. "Ida, right? Thanks… for the story. It's not the one I wanted but… might just be the one I needed."

"Happy to help." Ida replied, then jiggling her cup. "Now, why don't we celebrate the night away? And tomorrow, I'll come with you to get your business sorted."

Sasha liked the sound of that. "Yo, bartender! Get us another—"

FYOOOM!

Sasha flinched, her eyes turning pink. The booming noise had returned but it was louder this time, as if it was yelling at her. Unlike before, this one came out like a pulse, telling her exactly where it was. Sasha turned around and looked outside where, for some reason, was brighter than usual.

As well as plooms of smoke in an already dark sky.

Bella looked outside to where Sasha was staring, noticing the orange glow permeating along the frames. "Hey, is the sun rising already? It felt like we've only been here for an hour."

"There's a fire." Sasha whispered not-so hushedly.

"What?" "WHAT?!" Both Bella and Ida yelled. Post-haste, all three of the fairer sex rushed out of the tavern. Other patrons, who had briefly heard Sasha's proclamation, also left the building, following them from behind.

And from atop the low hill of the tavern, all of them could see the raging flames below, spouting abnormally across the industrial district like bright orange weeds.

Bella gulped. "Oh. Oh, that's not good."

Ida's eyes widened; she had seen this before. "T-the shop! Grandma Gerda!" Before anyone could say anything, the axolotl rushed off, leaving both her companions as well as the bar guests behind. Sasha wordlessly chased after her, followed by the less physically aptitude Bella lagging in the rear.

"H-hey, wait up!"

When it came to night, what people expect on most days was darkness. Not complete darkness, mind you, but just general darkness. The sun has set and so, the only sources of light would be those made by that of the earth. Fireflies beaming in the sky alongside the twinkling stars, glowing mushrooms radiating a soft hue through chemical reaction, and candles for those by the bedside, ready for rest. Prior to the invention of the electric lightbulb, the only artificial means of producing light was fire.

Fire – the very first phenomenon ever harvested by man. It was not an invention of man, as many would incorrectly state, but rather a natural part of nature that man learned to recreate. Since man harnessed the power of fire, the evolution of humanity exponentially rose over the millennia. Countless myths and legends centred around the creation of fire, such as the Greek's Prometheus stealing fire from the gods and giving it to humanity, or Suiren Shi, also known as Suihuang, who bestowed fire to the people for warmth, food and driving away wild animals.

To say that fire birthed humanity itself would be an understatement.

But fire has its dangers. Just as it pulled humanity out of the darkness, so to can it push them back.

BOOOOM!

"AH! The flour mill just blew up!"

"We need more water!"

"Buckets?! Where are the buckets?!"

While parts of the district were engulfed in flames, one particular building stood rather untouched. In fact, it was a bit of a distance away from the burning; not too far but not too close either. There, by the front door, a cloaked figure began picking the lock.

KUK-KUK-KUK… CLICK! Slowly, he opened the door and discreetly walked in.

Without any wasted movement, the intruder went straight to the back and to a shelf full of documents: bills, receipts, memoirs and most importantly, blueprints. He rummaged through the papers quickly, tossing aside anything that didn't interest him, as if they weren't important or rather, he was looking for something specific.

He didn't get far though.

"You're not going to find what you're looking for over there."

The intruder quickly turned around, where the old lady Leopold Gerda stood in her red sweater.

"Ever since the music box was lost, you've been scouring the entire continent for its schematics. But even after 1,000 years, what makes you think you're going to find it now?" She hissed. "The First King of Newtopia entrusted the Leopolds with it and that's where it was going to stay."

The intruder, now revealed to be a would-be thief, didn't say a word and instead, pulled out a knife. Gerda merely smirked.

"You should've brought more than a toothpick." She said. Slowly, she walked to them and pulled up her sleeve, revealing a beefy, ripped—swole arm.

The thief, now would-be assassin, raised a brow.

Later, Sasha, Ida and Bella finally arrive. The axolotl Ida arrived first, knowing the directions to her own home and consequently, the shortest route. At second place was Sasha who, despite being the tallest and most athletic, could only follow Ida to avoid getting lost. Though, she did have a feeling of where to go for some reason. And in third was Bella, for obvious reasons. It had only been a few minutes since they departed from the tavern and that was not a jog in a park.

And they arrived just in time too. Had they been late by a few more seconds, they would've missed the destroyed body flying out the wall, smashing the plaster and brick into smithereens.

Sasha screamed. "Frog Jesus! What the heck was that?!"

"Grandma!" Ida yelled, ignoring the battered person. "Grandma Gerda, are you there?!"

Out from the door, Gerda huffed, massaging her shoulder. "Hoo-wee, a bit out of breath but nothing to bad." She then twisted her neck slightly, popping its bones with a sickening crack. She breathed out strongly. "It's been a while since I threw someone out the window."

"That was the wall." Sasha pointed out.

"Wall, window – same thing." She said cavalierly. "Anyway, we better skedaddle before more of those assassins come by."

Bella gasped. "A-a-assassins?!"

It was then and there that Sasha remembered; Bella was just a normie. Fighting for survival in a life-or-death situation was not a normal weekly thing for her. Sasha had forgotten that most people did not live like this and that her way of life was anything but normal.

How was she not traumatized by now? For a question like that, she'd have to ponder later for right after, her eyes flashed pink.

"A bit late on that, Granny Smith." Sasha growled.

Like shadows of a theatrical play, cloaked figures—nay, assassins came out of the smoke and shade. They seemed to have been watching the whole ordeal, previously thinking that only one of them was enough for a simple task. Disappointingly, that clearly was not the case. While one pulled away the fallen brethren, the others brandished their swords, each glowing with a faint yet barely perceptible blue gleam. In response, Sasha wore her broken shield, the metal ready for one last dance.

"You need some help?" She asked.

Gerda ripped off her sleeves – they were getting in the way – and flexed her freed, muscular arms. "I'd appreciate it." She replied, smiling at the attackers like they were prey. But before the fight could start, she turned towards Bella the bellhop. "You! Newt girl!"

"M-me?!" Bella pointed at herself.

"You look like you can't throw a punch to save your life, which is why I've got something else for you." Gerda said. She then pointed at a nearby street. "Go down that way and get the guards! It'll lead you right towards a post!"

"R-right!" Bella replied, quickly running off.

But she wouldn't get far. The assassins weren't stupid; sure, they underestimated the old lady but axolotls weren't commonly known for their crazy ability to adapt against tremendous stress and Leopolds were always stressed out. They just didn't show it. Bella, however, was just a normal everyday newt with no discernable qualities.

There was no way they were letting her get reinforcements.

While Bella was running for her life to get the guards, one assassin appeared suddenly from above, his sword aiming directly for her back. In a blink of an eye, that sword would pierce through her, killing her almost instantly.

Luckily for her, she had two bodyguards watching her back.

SMASH!

Like a rocket, Sasha and Gerda barrelled at and simultaneously punched the assassin whilst mid-air, sending him blasting off into the distance. He would later become one with the stars and contributed to a constellation but that's a story for another time.

"Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen! But if you want to kill even one of us, then you better pay attention." Sasha cockily gloated, taunting them.

And pay attention, they did. Gerda frowned. "Was that really necessary?"

"Hey, it worked!"

Gerda rolled her eyes but chuckled. The teenager was rather amusing for an old lady like her. She then smacked her fist into her palm, and Ida, who was at the sidelines, joined in and pulled out a hammer. "We've got a few minutes before the cavalry arrives. So, don't die until then!"

Easier said than done.

The assassins came down like a torrent. The first threw a dagger at Ida which, due to Sasha's quick reflexes, was easily blocked. But in doing so, she left herself wide open and another came from the side, lunging at her with his blade aimed at her face. Sasha reacted quickly, leaning back and allowing the blade to only cut her cheek. Seeing her friend in distress, Ida rushed in to support and swung her hammer but the second attacker easily parried it. This proved to be his undoing as Sasha grabbed his now-exposed sword arm and delivered a heavy knuckle to his face.

The attacker was flung back from the force and his fellow, the dagger-throwing assassin, jumped over his rolling body. In mid-air, he drew his blade at Sasha's neck but Sasha arched back, letting the blade pass over her pretty face. Instead of retaliating, she ignored the assault and focused on the downed assassin, charging at him, followed by a nasty kick in the chin, smacking him to heaven.

Surprisingly, Sasha wasn't the only one with the same idea. The previous attacker, instead of chasing after her, changed targets to Ida. The axolotl was no fighter but bravely held her hammer regardless, as anxious as she may be. She screamed with all her might and charged at him, swinging her hammer haphazardly and without form. Despite the years of training, the assassin was left stumped by her uncoordinated assault, forcing him to keep his distance from harm's way. That, unfortunately, didn't help at all as Ida, so focused on the strength of swings rather than its directions, accidentally let go, the hammer slipping out and chucked at his forehead with an instant KO.

Sasha saw the whole thing and smiled. "Haha, nice one!" She said, giving a thumbs up at rather distressed Ida.

But in the field of battle, she couldn't afford to be distracted. One of the assassins suddenly behind her, his blade poised for killing. Coloured streaks trailed from her eyes and as he lunged at her with his blade, she turned and slammed it away with her shield, her free hand winding up for an uppercut. Though parried, the assassin swiped his tail at her feet in retaliation, forcing her to tumble backwards before the counter could be delivered. She fell on her back, the wind knocked out of her, but she couldn't even properly recover as he immediately stabbed his sword at her.

Sasha raised her shield to block but the blade ended up slipping through the fist-sized hole, piercing the ground next to her. The assassin tried to pull back for another strike but Sasha was faster, twisting her shield and locking the sword's sharp blade in it. His weapon stuck, he desperately tried to pull it out like but unlike the English king and his magical sword, this proved to be futile and straight up disastrous in long run; Sasha grabbed his arm, kicked him off and subsequently, pulling herself up with the momentum. Following that, she twisted her body with the arm locked in and swung her opponent over her shoulder, slamming him into the ground.

The dense ground below cracked under the pressure. Unbeknownst to her, so did her shield.

On the other side of the battlefield, Gerda was handling herself well despite her advanced age. An assassin swung his sword at her, only for her to catch his hand halfway. She then squeezed her hand tightly, causing him to shriek in excruciating pain and let go of his weapon. He fell to his knees, nursing his possibly broken wrist, but Gerda did not allow him to recover; with her hand faced at him like a knife, she clutched and rapidly thrust her shoulder forward, turning the palm into an instant 1-inch fist. It hit the newt straight in the chest, blowing him several metres away like a wet rag.

Sasha whistled. "Damn, grandma! You have got to teach me that!" She said. One assassin tried to capitalize on her brief inattentiveness, only to get a sucker punch to the face.

Gerda chuckled; even in the face of danger, that teenager can still be so lax. Let's see how she'd react to this then.

Like an angry koala, Gerda jumped at the nearest assailant and grabbed him by his cloak. Using herself like a counterweight, she pulled him back and over herself before tossing him at Sasha. Seeing the person flying at her, the 14-year old teenager smiled with glee and lunged forward, drop-kicking him vertically downwards and using his poor torso as a launchpad.

It was a perfect double-somersault landing. 10/10: guaranteed for the championship.

"Impressive!" Gerda praised. Somehow, in the short period of Sasha Mario-jumping on a newt, Gerda ended up strangling two other separate newts with just her biceps. It's both awe-inspiring and eyebrow-raising how buff this old lady was.

"RAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Sasha, Gerda and Ida all jumped at the roar, turning their heads towards the source. The other assassins slowly stepped back and from the smoke, a large figure emerged. He was, without a doubt, the third-largest person Sasha had ever laid her eyes on, only behind the wild-westing outlaw Mamma Hasselback and the undeniable ruler of Amphibia, King Andrias Leviathan. From his belt, he pulled a pair of twin single-edged axes, both so insanely huge, they would've been classified as military ordinances.

"… I can take him." Sasha claimed with a misplaced confidence only a teenager could have.

Ida, however, thought otherwise. "Sasha, wai—!" The young axolotl yelled, only for it to be too late.

Before anyone could act, the lumbering giant stomped his feet and propelled towards Ida, the weakest of the three. At such speed and distance, Ida could barely react to the oncoming threat, her eyes widened and her voice stuck mid-scream. The giant, now within an arm's reach, raised his axe and swung down.

She couldn't dodge this. It was too fast and she was too close. In the next instant, she'd either be chopped in half like bug meat at a butcher's shop, or turned into bloody paste from the force alone.

It was too late.

SLAM!

Suddenly, a large force pushed Ida out of the way. The said large force was revealed to be none other than Sasha, her teeth gritted and her weapon raised. Unable to retreat in time, she readied herself to block the blunted blade with nothing but a broken shield and sheer, indomitable will.

Regrettably, one of those weren't enough.

KRRRKT!

Metal against metal, the axe proved itself superior. Its thick blade tore halfway through the shield and by the whims of fate, had almost reached Sasha's arm; a few extra pounds of force and it would've cleaved her hand off. Sasha's eyes widened and reactively, she pulled back but instead, both weapons ended up getting stuck with one another. Yet, despite the dangers, her stubbornness refused to let go.

The larger opponent was having none of that. He exerted a greater pull than she did, literally ripping the shield from her hand, and pushed her away. The shield, still stuck on the axe's blade, came crashing down as he slammed his axe to the ground, cutting the excessively-damaged metal plate into crude, uneven halves. To add salt to the wound, he then stomped on the remains, digging his dirtied boots onto the shattered steel.

Sasha felt her breath cut short. Her teeth gritted so hard, it would draw blood, and her eyes glowed a lustrous pink.

"NOOOOOO!"

Like a rabid wolf, she charged at the large newt in roaring rage, wanting nothing more than to beat his face in like a crater. But her opponent was no mere brute; in battle, those who lose themselves to anger were the first to fall.

That was, if this was a normal fight.

Sasha threw her fist at him, launching herself like a human-sized bullet. It hit him straight in the stomach, far too fast for him to counter. His size barred him from being pushed further than a few feet but the pain and damage was very real; with the amount of force he felt, it was as if he had been punched by someone of equal strength.

Sasha did not yield and followed it with a flying uppercut, hitting him square in the jaw. Normally, this would knock any person out but despite the shock, all it managed was for him to drop his axes. Responding to such brute throws, he grabbed Sasha as she was mid-air, his hand large enough to hold her entire upper torso, and smashed her delicate teenage body into the ground with all his might.

SMASH!

Yet, she did not relent. With his hand so close, she dug her nails into his gloves and chomped on his hand, refusing to give up. Her teeth did not pierce the leather but he felt an uncomfortable amount of pressure between his thumb and finger. If he were to speak, he would've praised her for her tenacity but this job was not one of words. Instead of letting go, he raised her up and smashed her down once more.

SMASH!

With every swing and every slam, she could feel her muscles scream and her bones crack. But she did not give up, too fuelled with irrational furore. This was a battle of wills and Sasha Waybright would never lose.

And she was right; the large newt did not want this to continue for every passing second brought the authorities nearer and nearer. Wanting to finish this, he did not slam her like before and instead, threw her off and into the Leopold's Leo-Props. Sasha's body crashed through the wall, breaking it like it was glass and not a mix of brick and wood.

Ida shrieked. "MS SASHA!"

It was dark.

But… not an unfamiliar darkness. No, she had been here before but she always forgot every time. Like a fleeting dream or a clouded memory, the image was always there but never clear. At least, not on purpose. But the more she saw it, the more she remembered like the shade from under her bed's covers.

But the darkness didn't stay. In an instant, the scenery changed, replaced by a view of rustling green leaves and bopping colourful flowers. Despite never being here before, the land felt so common to her, as if she had passed through there every days for years. Yes, she even recalled slightly; this was a garden, one thoroughly maintained and cared for.

By who? Well, none other than her, of course. A small, pink frog by the name of .

Huh? Why couldn't she…

"And…" She snipped off a yellowed leaf. "Done! Perfect!"

She stepped back and admired her topiary. It was the shape of a heron – a large and dangerous predator located in the southern forests and had a habit of disembowelling any amphibian it claimed as prey. Seemed tasteless but she wasn't the one who decided on the design.

"Not bad, . Not bad." She self-praised, though her name came out jumbled. It seemed to have happened again.

Why was she here, shaping bushes into deadly birds? It took a bit of effort to get her thoughts in order but like a snap of a tense string, it all came back to her; there was a party to be held in this garden and she was tasked in sprucing it up. And this was just an average day, no different than any other.

That was, until she noticed the collection of mystifying creatures trotting around in the nearby bushes. "What the…?" She whispered to herself, straight away following them. When she arrived at their gathering spot, she found them dancing around in a circle, performing a ritual on what seemed to be a bowl of fruits. The fruits were fresh, thankfully, but none seemed to have come from the garden itself.

It didn't take long for the little creatures to notice her. In a huff, they carried their bowl and left the scene, as if they were just rudely interrupted. However, one picked a cluster of grapes and handed it to her, the fruit still attached to its stems.

A gift, perhaps? She accepted it graciously, plopping one into her mouth the moment after. Despite how plump it felt, it was oddly. Good news she liked sour grapes.

"Praises to the King, cheers to the King; may gold, gospel and glory cometh to thee, oh wise ruler of our fair city."

Was that… poetry?

She followed the voice and there, by a gazebo, was a young newt of blue, his stature and height taller than most and his clothes being nothing more than a tan tunic over a pair of dark loose pants, both breathable and lightweight – casual in design but in terms of material and quality, carried a certain aristocratic dignity. In his hand was a small notebook and within the gazebo, he walked in circles, clearly anxious over its contents.

"With worlds explored and its riches brought home, bringeth thee persistence to our way of life. We are…" He paused. "We are… We are…"

He then cursed silently. "Newts, 'we are' what? What comes after 'we are'?" He mumbled.

She raised a brow. Was he having trouble with his poetry? The more he mumbled, the less she could hear. So, she stepped closer to the gazebo but to her shock, she happened to step on a loose twig.

CRACK!

"Ah!" The blue newt shouted, then turned. "Who goes there? Come on out! Or I'll, uh, call the guards!"

Her eyes widened; that'd be the worst-case scenario. Wanting to avoid that, she immediately exposed herself. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down there, Big Blue! It's just me."

'Big Blue' raised a brow. "W-who are you? And what are you doing here? Answer me!"

She scoffed. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"

He looked almost offendedly dumbfounded. "I h-have every right to be here!"

She shook her head. "You sure about that? Because this place is supposed to be closed off from visitors." She then smirked and pointed at herself with her thumb, all smug-like. "I would know; I'm the gardener ."

He stared at her, then stifled a laugh. "You? A Royal Gardener? Aren't you a bit too young to be a Royal Gardener?"

She flinched. Dangit, he was right! "W-well, not officially. Yet! This is just temporary until I land a permanent, sweet gig here."

'Big Blue' raised a big, blue brow. "Is that so? You don't seem to be gardener material."

Now it was her turn to look offended. "Bah?! Not 'gardener material' ?!"

His eyes widened, realising that he may hit a nerve of sorts. "Uh, n-no offence! I didn't mean it like that!" He apologized, retreating slowly.

He thought he could get away with it, insulting her lifelong passion so carelessly. He was unfortunately wrong. The small, pink frog stomped her way towards the tower newt, jabbing her finger at him. "I'll have you know that it's been a lifelong dream of mine to be gardener. So I'm not going to let some random big-as-an-oxenfly of a newt tell me what 'material' I am."

With every jab, she pushed him further and further back. He couldn't even get his apology straight, his words not coming out properly. But as he stepped back more and more, eventually he'd reach a wall, preventing him from going further back. The wall could be anything from tree to an actual wall.

In this case, it was a flower – a lily, specifically – that he accidentally stepped out. gasped.

"Oops… S-sorry…" 'Big Blue' tried to apologise.

"… You're going to fix that."

"W-what?!"

She didn't wait any longer and immediately left. "I'm getting the spades! And you better not run away!"

He didn't even have time to enquire more than that. Watching her disappear into the bushes, he could ignore her demands and leave the scene silently. But something in him told him that it would be a grave mistake, so as per her orders, he didn't run away. Depending on who you asked, that was either very wise or very stupid.

A couple of minutes later, she returned, pushing a wooden wheelbarrow. In it were not just spades but also other pieces of equipment, replacement flowers, fresh soil and chemical fertilisers in the form of tiny blue beads, almost like sand. Unlike natural fertiliser such as compost or manure, these had no smell and were water-soluble. Its only con was that it required modern manufacturing techniques but still, it was a marvel of modern agricultural sciences.

Without a word, she tossed him a spade and a couple of gardening gloves, then gestured at him. "Do exactly as what I say. Got it?"

"Uh… Got it!"

She smiled and they got to work. First things first was the flower bed. Due to his size, it wasn't just one flower that got crushed, so several of them had to replaced. Following her instructions, he helped dig out the old flowers and put in new ones, covering their roots with a fresh layer of soil and then, sprinkled with the fertiliser.

Although his error was fixed, it didn't stop there. The two of them began working on other parts nearby, clipping the bushes and trees to acceptable conditions, checking and removing discoloured petals or leaves, raking out the disposables and throwing them elsewhere, and ensuring everything was watered and fertilised. They also checked for pests and diseases, and later sprayed the greenery with chemical non-toxic repellents.

They even painted the gazebo. Maintaining outdoor structures were also part of a gardener's job scope.

It took a while but after an hour, the gazebo section of the garden was finished. The pink frog smiled, a hard day's work completed.

Next to her, the big blue newt looked at the garden with awe. "Wow… It's beautiful." He said, his voice seemingly a whisper. He then turned to her and smiled. "I guess you really are a gardener."

She puffed her chest proudly. "Told ya so!" She said with a large grin. "Thanks for the help, big man. I totally could've done it without you but it's a lot quicker when you've got a pair of extra hands."

"No problem. I actually enjoyed doing all that." He looked at his hands, dirtied with, well, dirt. "I never realised how… fulfilling gardening is."

Her grin enlarged and she hopped to his face. " Right?! It's amazing! Not only do these plants increase air quality by sucking up all the bad gases and processing it into oxygen, it also boosts your immune system, reduces stress, builds physical strength from all the exercise and it's just great to look at."

He blinked. That was… a lot… "Ah, I didn't know that." He replied. Suddenly, he was hit by an unpleasant smell and recoiled. "Phew, and you can include 'produce body odour' in that list because we both stink."

She gasped. "You can't say I stink! I'm a girl!"

"Really? Could've fooled me."

JAB. She threw a friendly punch.

"Jerk." She said, smiling. "Sorry for getting you all messed up like this. You were probably busy."

'Big Blue' chuckled, though without any of the usual nervousness. "A bit. I was working on a speech for the upcoming ceremony. I was having some trouble with the poem part but you kinda helped break me out of that writer's block. So, thanks."

Ah, so that was poetry. And for an upcoming ceremony? Must've been important. Still, she nodded. "You're welcome. Guess we're now even."

He returned a smile. "I guess we are."

He raised a an open hand to her, welcoming a response. One she graciously accepted. She lent her own and shook it with a tight grip, sealing their bond forever. Though, due to how big his hands were, it kinda looked and felt awkward for both parties.

"Prince? Are you here?" Suddenly, a new voice called out, gruffer than either of them. Coming to the gazebo, a lightly-armoured horned toad appeared, his skin a lime green and his eyes light yellow. He also had red slitted pupils, which stood out compared to the more common circular pupils.

'Big Blue' raised a greeting salute. "Oh! Hey, Barrel."

Barrel, as he was called, turned to him and gasped. "Prince! Why are you covered in dirt?! You can't go around looking like this!" He said, instantly anxious. "Aww man, they're gonna scold me for sure! I knew I shouldn't have taken the extra-spicy bowl."

"No, no, no! It's okay! I was just helping the gardener with her work!" 'Big Blue' or 'Prince' reassured.

It did not help.

"Helping the gardener?!" The toad shrieked. "Prince, you can't go around doing these kinds of things. If anything happens to you, I get punished for it!"

The blue newt waved the worries away. "It's fine! I'll vouch for you! Promise."

Barrel looked uncomfortable but ultimately, conceded. What's done is done, after all. "Hng…! If you say so…" He said with a defeated sigh. He then turned to the sole unknown party – the pink frog. "Hey, you're the gardener, right?"

She gulped. It's only natural to be nervous around authority. "Y-yep!"

"Usually, I'd have to report these kinds of things but if Prince here thinks it's okay, then it's okay." He exclaimed, nodding. "So, uh, thanks for watching him."

The blue newt frowned, crossing his arms. "You make it sound like I'm a child that would run off in an instant."

"I know you're not! But I'm your bodyguard for the ceremony, so…"

Just then, raised a hand. "Hey, can I ask something?"

Barrel looked surprised. "Huh? Oh, sure."

"Why do you keep calling him 'Prince'?"

Now, he looked confused. "Because he's the Prince of Newtopia?"

…

"WHAAAAAAAAAT?!"

Suddenly, everything froze. Like a still picture, everything from the flaps of a butterfly's wings to the swaying made by the wind stopped moving.

Yet, in this suspended state, the pink frog began to move, her eyes glowing an eerie pink. She walked around, examining the other two as well as their surroundings and then, began to speak.

"So this is where it all began. Who would've thought that a lonely, orphaned frog would end up becoming friends with the future ruler of the greatest empire in existence? Back then, you never realised how much your life would be intertwined with his. The relationship forged that day would cause waves for centuries to come."

She sighed, as if disappointed. "Though, not all waves were good. It definitely did change the course of history and depending on who you asked, it was either for the better or the worse."

"Did you ever have regrets over that day? Did you ever wonder what would've happened, had you not met him? Or maybe, had to you made a different choice? The day your friendship sparked brought with it ruin in a future you could never had perceived. But what if you never became friends? Would it have been better for all parties involved?"

"What if you, Sasha Waybright, never helped Anne Boonchuy and Marcy Wu at that playground?"

She blinked and everything disappeared in a blinding light.

It was dark.

Wait, didn't she come from the light just earlier?

Well, that didn't last. Though, this time, it wasn't the dream-state darkness but rather, a normal kind with glimmers of light in the edge of her vision. Sasha Waybright, now awoken from her non-consensual slumber, slowly became aware. She was lying on the floor, the wall in front of her collapsed inward. Shards of concrete and wood from the structure laid waste to its surrounding, having destroyed the assortment of props that were once carefully displayed.

With her remaining strength, she pushed herself off her ground and leaned over the other wall, her arms and shoulders trembling in pain. She could feel a dull ache in her abdomen – a broken rib, perhaps? – and bruises all over her body. Her breathing was heavy and tired, and she struggled to keep her eyes opened.

Whilst inside, she could hear the chaos outside but couldn't determine what it all was. There were yells of panic, shouts of desperation and crackling of flames in the distance. But in the destroyed shop, it was quiet, the remaining walls isolating her from the pandemonium beyond.

But the quietness did not last for a low hum reverberated in her ears.

FYOOOM!

Sasha looked up and there, still hanging on the wall, albeit crooked, was the shield replica. The replica called out to her, demanding attention.

FYOOOM!

And Sasha, in her post-defeat state, stared.

FYOOOM!

Sasha chuckled. "You know, for a shield, you are loud as heck." She said. Without further ado, she heaved herself up and took down the portrait. And for the first time since the Tower, the tips of her hair turned pink.

Outside, Ida was still in shock. Mere seconds earlier, she just watched a brute through her friend through a building. There was no guarantee she was still alive and considering their current predicament, there'd be no guarantee they'd survive the night either. Ida was not versed in self-defence; even one of these assassins could kill her at a moment's notice. But right now, she was protected by her grandmother who, somehow, had more strength than what she knew what to do with.

It'd be nice if she gave some to her grandchildren. Ida very obviously needed those extra pounds.

Speaking of grandmother, Gerda had both her hands locked in with the same large newt. Despite being much smaller than him, incredibly she was holding him back equally, their arms pushing their opponent's with utmost ferocity. But at this state, she couldn't move or do anything else, leaving her exposed.

The other assassins glanced at each other and nodded. It was time to end this. With their blades brandished, they calmly walked up to her and her granddaughter, the axolotls unable to fend for themselves.

1 down, 1 escaped. 2 more to go.

Wait, scratch that. It's 3 more to go.

From the hole in the wall, a metallic object flew out at blurring speed. The object, akin to a frisbee, flew straight into one of the assassins' heads, bashing their lights out. Shockingly, it didn't stop and continued its assault, hitting another cloaked assassin, then another and another and another. One of them thought they were smart and ducked, the object flying across and over their heads.

They were wrong. The metal frisbee took offence to that and, while still spinning, stopped in mid-air and then, reversed its direction and slammed the proud newt right in the back. Now satisfied, it resumed its original course and bashed more of them, and again and again and again. Even if they parried, dodged or blocked, the object would come back to them with a vengeance.

The goliath's eyes widened as his allies slowly dropped like flies. And seeing the UFO (Unidentified Fighting Object) now heading straight towards him, he pushed himself away from the old axolotl, letting the object fly past him. Just like the others, it came back for round 2, forcing him to take evasive action. With the benefit of hindsight, he fared much better than his allies, weaving and bowing left and right, but the homing disc of danger gradually lost its temper and began flurrying faster and faster until a point where he could no longer evade.

Having no other option, he raised his giant hand and grabbed the object rushing towards him, his gloves protecting from the brunt of the hit. The force was almost enough to cause him to slip but he held his ground and slammed the object into the ground. Finally in his grasp, he realised what it was that had been chasing after him and his compatriots.

It was a shield and for some reason, it was angry.

"Hey, big guy."

While struggling to keep the shield from moving, he turned and to his shock, it was the girl that he defeated earlier. But… she looked different. Her blue eyes, dulled by the night, had changed to a vicious colour and that same hue and glow was shared at the tips of her hair, floating ethereally behind her.

She pointed at him with her index finger and then, flicked the said finger down.

"Kneel."

Without warning, without even a hint of noise or a blip of light, the weight of the world crashed onto him. Suddenly, the cloaked giant found himself on his knees, an immense force squishing him into the pavement. He could barely stay upright, his forearms bracing himself from lying flat. Whatever it was that's happening, it was without a doubt unnatural and unexplainable.

He couldn't move and for that, the shield flew out of his grasp and back to the girl, only to float gently into her hands.

"Sasha!" Ida called, tears in her eyes. "You're alright!"

Beside her, Gerda lightly snorted. "And in one piece too. You're a lot tougher than you look."

"I would say I've had worse but that'd be lying." Sasha exclaimed, twisting her head around, her neck and shoulders aching and tense. At least she didn't lose a tooth this time. "Anyway, anyone else wants a go?"

The assassins, partially recovered from the shield throw, initially hesitated. Even as the big guy stood back up, the weight disappearing, and grabbed his dropped axes, he did not move. Sasha glared at the dispersed group, her eyes twitching from one to another.

Just like the rest of her body, the air was tense and even a drop of a needle could set it all off. All eyes glared at each other, just waiting for someone to make the first move. It was like one of those cowboy movies she once watched on TV with everyone's hands on their revolvers and the clock tower ticking in the background. The differences were that there weren't any guns here and there was no clock tower, just the fire burning the town around them.

The big newt lifted his axe and Sasha readied her shield…

And he slid them back into their holsters.

"We're done here. This mission was a failure." The newt said, finally breaking his group's silence. Extraordinarily, in contrast to his large size, he had a ill-fitting high-pitched voice as if he had swallowed a balloon from a children's birthday party. Which was weird, by the way, since his roar in the beginning was an actual roar and not a squeaky toy. "If what we heard from our junior was correct, then no document exists. Let us be off."

Meanwhile, Sasha, so taken out by the pitch, was fighting for her life, stifling a laugh by shutting her mouth with her free hand and holding back tears. The adverse colour from her eyes and hair tips vanished into thin air, her mood completely swapped. "D-d-dude, what is with your voice?"

The newt ignored her remarks but still focused his eyes on her. "You must be Sasha Waybright." He said, making her feel worse. "We've heard many things about you. Let it be known that from now on, you and your family will not escape our wrath."

Sasha stopped laughing. That actually sounded serious.

"For we—" His gaze sharpened. "—are the Cult of the Olms."

POOF! POOF! POOF!

All of the sudden, large clouds of smoke exploded by her feet, obscuring her view. Gerda and Ida coughed harshly as the smoke entered their lungs but Sasha, in a spur of instinct, threw her shield at the expanding cloud, straight at the large newt's last known location. Sadly, it did not hit its mark, penetrating through, only to hit nothing.

They were gone – all of them.

Sasha's fist curled up tightly, oh so utterly vexed. It was one thing to target but it was another to target her family, even if adopted. She already knew what it was like to lose them once; she will not allow that to happen again. But… how would she prevent that?

Her train of thought was, unfortunately, interrupted by the unannounced appearance of a completely different newt. While not as large and wide as the one prior, the new entry was certainly just as tall, only on the lanky side. With her rough but clearly combed-back hair and decorative plate armour, the newt began posing.

"Have no fear, citizen! For I, General Yunan, am here!" The newt, now recognised as General Yunan, announced loudly to the world. She then changed her pose. "Scourge of the Sand Wars, Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of General in the great Newtopia—where is everybody?"

She looked around, ignoring the fires for a bit, and huffed. "I was expecting cloaked assailants with daggers but there are only 2 axolotl citizens and, uh… y-you? Yooouuu, uh, thing here."

Sasha frowned. "Wow. Rude."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offence." Yunan hung her head in shame. This was not how she was expecting this to go.

Behind her, more newts appeared, each wearing the iconic blue cloak and standard uniform of the Newtopian City Police. Not to be confused with the cloaks of the attackers which were dark, almost black even, or the cloaks often worn by the Newtopian General Army which were brown in colour. Included in the line-up was Bella, the escaped guide, now having fulfilled her role.

"I am also here – Bella!" The smaller, yet still lanky newt shrieked. "Graduate of Newtopia University, bellhop of the Hemisphere Hotel, and I have a spear!"

Yunan quickly turned towards her. "Hey, where'd you get that?! That's military equipment!"

"Uuuh—"

Yunan sighed, pinching the bridge of her snout. "Guh! It doesn't matter! Those terrorists were here and they couldn't have gotten far." The general said. She turned towards one of the officers, who saluted in response. "Spread out and find them! We can't let even a single one escape!"

The officer nodded but Ida, the civilian, opposed the plan. "B-but what about the fire?!"

Yunan's eyes widened. She looked around, noticing the flames slowly dying out but far too slow for comfort. At this rate, it'd still raze half of the industrial district into ash and soot. "Right, the fire…" She whispered. To her frustration, she knew what needed to be done. "Belay that order! Assist the citizens in extinguishing the blaze! Do not let it spread any further!"

The soldiers saluted and spread out into groups. It was a shame to let the instigators escape but current situations demanded her attention more than a ragtag group of crazies. It would do Newtopia no good if one of their most important areas were destroyed. Trade would abruptly slow down, costs would increase and everyone, including the soldiers would suffer from a lack of raw or processed materials.

The city came first. That was a rule left unsaid.

"OW! THAT STINGS!"

It was the very next day, early in the morning. What could've been an unmitigated disaster was successfully extinguished. Across the industrial district, fire inspectors and first responders checked for any unseen flames or possible sources of sparks, as well as any missing persons. Simultaneously, the workers of the district quickly got to work and began repairs, otherwise they'd be out of the job until then.

Sitting on a bench, a comforting blanket draped over her, Sasha Waybright was being treated by a newt physician. One would think that, due to the differing biologies, this would be a big issue but that's only the case for serious injuries and/or illnesses. Sasha only had a few cuts, skin-deep bruises and a cracked rib, not broken. Nothing like a mysterious goopy salve and a good night's rest won't fix.

"Eeee…!" Sasha whimpered, looking away with her eyes closed. The physician wanted to roll their eyes at the teenager's melodramatic behaviour but acting as a true professional, opted to ignore it and dabbed a disinfectant on her wounds with a cotton swab. Whether light or serious, the injuries were all equally wrapped with thin, white bandages.

Sasha looked at her partially mummified body. The last time she looked like this was back in Wartwood, just before leaving the valley. It made her wonder about the small frog town she now called home away from home, missing it even. How were the townies faring right now? Hopefully, they didn't get into any funny shenanigans but on the off chance that they did, at least it brought her peace knowing that it wasn't her fault.

While checking her bandages, she saw the old lady Gerda walk up to her with a wave. "Hey there, girlie! Good job out there. We would've been smoked amphibian if it weren't for you." She thanked. "And it seems your hair's back to normal. I'm going to guess that it turning to a different colour isn't a common occurrence for ya."

Sasha nodded, then smugly pointed at herself, her nose tipped sharply upwards. "Hm-hmph! That's because I'm the chosen one."

"'Chosen one' for what?"

"I dunno. But probably something cool."

Gerda's brows furrowed but chose to not dig into it. She noticed her store's shield leaning at an angle between the bench and the dirt. "So… how does it feel?"

Sasha raised a brow. "How does what feel?"

"The shield." She noted, nudging at the legendary weapon. "How does it feel? Any odd or peculiar experiences?"

Sasha looked at the legendary shield. Edmun, was it? That's what Bella called it and for the longest time, this piece of metal had been nagging in her ear with a low booming noise. But now, after all the fighting and head-bashing, it was oddly quiet as if tuckered out. It had been an eventful evening, to be fair.

Sasha scratched the back of her head. "Well, it's not screaming anymore."

"Is that right? Interesting…" Gerda sung, scratching her chin wistfully. "You can have it, by the way. Consider it as thanks for saving me and my family."

The teenager shrugged. "It's no big deal. Anyone would've done the same."

Anyone would've claimed to do the same but it took guts and an altruistic nature to actually do that. Paradoxically, Sasha didn't fit the second criteria but her immense selfishness circled back to a form of good Samaritanism; Ida was her friend and Sasha helped her friends. She probably wouldn't have done the same if it was a stranger.

Probably.

Gerda then noticed Sasha's old shield, its halves collected into a cloth bundle. Unlike Edmun, the named indestructible masterwork with no close rival, the common iron shield was lovingly wrapped and laid on the bench itself beside its owner. Just goes to show that having higher stats would not make you one's favourite, kind of like Pokemon.

"And your old shield?" Gerda asked.

Sasha sighed. "I… I think I'm okay now." She exclaimed, accepting the truth. "This was bound to happen anyway. Holding onto the past doesn't help anyone and really, I just wish I realised that sooner."

"Hindsight is 20-20. Foresight is zero." Gerda phrased. "But it's better to have known it late, rather than not knowing at all. At least then, you can do something about it later."

The teenager smiled.

Sasha turned and grabbed her new shield, flipping it around like a dinner plate. It was much heavier compared to her old one and definitely thicker too. It'll take a while for her to get used to it. "So… Edmun, huh? The legendary shield?" She mumbled. "Why did Ida call it a replica?"

Gerda chuckled. Good to know Sasha had the braincells to figure it out. "She didn't know it was real. The shield was supposed to be destroyed, after all. At least, on paper it was."

Sasha blinked. That only raised more questions but she had a feeling the answers would include a long and winded history lesson, so she'd rather not know that have to deal with another universe's homework. "And the assassins? What's up with that?"

"We're Leopolds; when you're part of a family this old, someone's always going to want to kill you." Gerda replied as if that wasn't a disturbing fact. "This time, they were looking for some old family-secret blueprints, not realising that the don't exist anywhere but here."

Gerda tapped on her head. Sasha reacted with awe. "Whoa, secret plans in your head. Sounds like something out of movie."

The idea seemed foolproof but really, all it did was change the risk from a piece of paper being stolen to the memorizer being kidnapped and tortured. Sure, it's more secure but was that really worth it?

"And the best part? Even if they got me, they wouldn't get squat!" Gerda said, laughing at herself. "My memory's not as good as it used to be. Those old schematics are a blur to me now and I didn't teach Ida."

Sasha stared back in shock. "Wait, so they're just gone forever?"

"Oh, they're somewhere. Just not here."

"But you said—"

"Ap-pup-pup!" Gerda hushed, shoving her finger onto the teenager's lips. "Nobody's interested in an old lady's tale. Besides, don't you think it's time for you to head back?"

It was then, Sasha was hit by a horrid realisation; she was gone for a whole day. "Oh, shoot."

"SASHA ELIZABETH WAYBRIGHT-PLANTAR!"

Some time after the fires were doused and life returned to its boring normalcy, in an office located high above the rest of the great city, the giant baby-voiced newt assassin stood with his back straight. In the office was not just him but another, whose high-ranking position made him the sole owner of the room.

Royal Guard Captain Shangzi, patriarch of the Longclaw Clan.

Without a word, the miniature newt puffed on a lit pipe, making him look older and more distinguished. The pipe itself was brand-new, untouched until today. He blew out the smoke into the air above, fanning it with a stack of papers, and sighed. "So, can you tell me what I have in my hand? Hmm?" He asked.

The larger of the newts didn't say a word. So, Shangzi continued.

"These are reports of cloaked figures – assassins – appearing and attacking a 'frail old woman and her granddaughter' in public during what is written here—" He looked at the documents and began paraphrasing. "—'what could've been a repeat of the Great Burning, if it weren't the heroic General Yunan'."

He let the papers fall out of his hand, scattering onto the desk, leaving on a pen between his fingers.

Shangzi took a deep breath. "Oof, tsss…" He audibly and sharply exhaled. "Now, I'm fine with you not only failing your job but also getting caught doing it. Sure, that's a headache for me to deal with but I can accept that. We can always try again, after all, once it all calms down. What I don't like, however—"

SCHWAP—GAK!

In one swift motion, he threw the pen towards the assassin, missing his cheekbones by a fraction of an inch, and nailing it to the wall behind.

"—IS HOW THAT DISGRACE OF A LONGCLAW GOT HAILED A HERO FOR IT!" He murderously yelled. "WHAT WAS SHE EVEN DOING THERE, HUH?!"

Captain Shangzi began pulling his white hair in seething rage but after a second or so, stopped and composed himself via breathing exercises.

"Hoo…" He let out, now substantially calmer. "… Luckily, you've confirmed something for us. If what she said was true, then it seems the old woman doesn't have the schematics. I don't know why our fair leader suddenly wants it but let's just hope the report wouldn't displease him too much."

The pint-sized amphibian turned away, smoking his pipe. "It's unfortunate but despite the failure, I'll consider you've accomplished some of what I set you out to do. The payment will reflect that. And if your family head has a problem with that, tell him that I'm being generous." He said, the last words laced with poison. Without even looking, he waved nonchalantly at the assassin. "Now, leave. Consider our business with the Espada familiar concluded."

The assassin wanted to correct him – it was the Espada Familia – but bit his tongue and left silently. Now on his own, the Royal Guard Captain Shangzi of the Longclaws continued smoking his pipe in isolation.

"GAHK!" He then coughed heavily. He never smoked before this.