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Clarke was sweating in his boots. Colonel Vangarre was yelling at them as usual, and while normally he tried to pay even a little bit of attention because that saved him from the Colonel’s uncanny ability for being able to tell when one of his soldiers had checked out from reality…
Today was making that pretty difficult.
Mainly because not five minutes ago he saw Shulk walk by behind the Colonel, what looked like a long list in his hand, and a giant glowing blue sword propped up on his shoulder with the other.
It was two minutes ago that he saw a krabble flying past the edge of the deck at a very high speed, and a minute since he spotted a blue speck on the distant shore, suggesting that Shulk was the culprit, and that he had sent the poor thing flying like a baseball.
“GET YOUR EMPTY HEAD OUT OF THE CLOUDS, SOLDIER! GIVE ME THREE HUNDRED PUSH UPS!” Vangarre screamed into his face, and Clarke nearly shrieked in surprise.
“But u-um, s-sir–” Clarke tried to defend himself, but couldn’t get more than those few words out before Vangarre turned his volume up past eleven and straight to eighteen.
“DO YOU THINK THE MECHON WILL WAIT FOR YOU TO GET YOUR HEAD ON STRAIGHT!? I DON’T THINK SO! WHY I OUTTA…” As Colonel Vangarre continued his tirade, Clarke spotted Shulk strolling back the other way behind him and first of all, how did he get back here so fast when he last saw him at Agora Shore and second of all what in the name of the Bionis was in that giant sack?! The thing was bigger than Shulk, and yet he was dragging it around like his favorite blanket. Shulk noticed him staring and waved cheerfully at him, like he hadn’t sent his brain to the scrap heap.
The Colonel was still yelling in his face, and wow he really just wanted this day to be over already, and it was only 10 in the morning.
Juju slowly drove the buggy into the camp with his newly-met friends walking behind, dreading Sharla’s reaction to his, admittedly, kind of stupid plan to get back to Colony 6. If Shulk and Reyn hadn’t completely steamrolled the Arduns attacking him he would have been toast, and then Sharla would have been alone.
He didn’t look up when he heard what had to have been Sharla coming closer (and by the Bionis, she wasn’t saying anything at all, which meant she must be so mad) but instead of the wrath of the gods coming down onto his head, there was nothing. Instead, he heard Shulk grab something from his back.
He looked up and saw a (very very nice) gun in Shulk’s hands that he held out in front of him, wearing a wide, shit-eating grin on his face. Sharla, when he glanced over to her, was actually bouncing as she sprinted the last few paces between herself and Shulk and practically yanked the rifle out of Shulk’s hands, spinning around in place and squeeing. Sharla. What.
“Oh it’s just as amazing as I remember, thank you Shulk!” Sharla’s eyes were sparkling.
“I wasn’t about to let you use that insult to weaponry again, Sharla,” Shulk huffed.
Juju was so confused. What was going on?!
Otharon moved as quickly and quietly as he could towards the abandoned mining equipment. Those boys Sharla had brought with her were no slouches in combat, but he had his doubts about the boy’s “Monado.” One of the heavy mining vehicles was nearby- with enough velocity, he might be able to use its sheer weight to shove the damned Mechon into the ether pit.
It would come at the cost of his life, but that sacrifice was one he’d made his peace with long ago. He moved to start it up-
And was interrupted by a mighty crash , followed by the unmistakable screech of metal being ripped apart, several gunshots, and a scream that definitely wasn’t one of those new boys. He risked a glance down in the pit, and was met by the sight of the Mechon screaming in pain. He could make out Sharla, standing tall and firing shot after shot at the monstrosity. The taller boy (Was his name Ryan? Otharon couldn’t remember) was striking at it with that weapon he’d called a Driver, carving deep gashes into its remaining leg. Remaining. The other one was on the other side of the battlefield behind the blond boy, who was raising his sword and about to dash back into the fray. He paused, though, and glanced behind him at Otharon.
Otharon stared.
The boy just gave him a thumbs-up before charging back towards the Mechon, slashing a deep cut into its armor with a single strike. The three combatants moved with the ease of seasoned warriors, attacking with the kind of strength, skill, and coordination that only came from hundreds of fights back-to-back, and they were decimating the giant Mechon with ease.
Just who had Sharla found?!
Kallian was not having a particularly good day. In fact, it could be said that he was having an especially awful day, and it could all be attributed to Melia’s seemingly new group of friends.
He said “seemingly”, because as far as he was able to tell, which was quite a lot, thank you very much, Melia had not so much as caught a whiff of them before they appeared in Makna Forest yesterday. He loved Melia, truly he did, he did not deserve such a sweet and dedicated sister, but by the grace of the Bionis, what was going on?
He made his way toward the Imperial Villa after visiting the… eccentric group Melia had dragged home with a beaming smile on her face that he hadn’t seen since she was very, very small, intending to beg answers out of her if he had to.
He expected to find her writing at her desk, or tending the flowers in the garden, or maybe even drafting yet another petition on why she should be able to keep the latest dog she smuggled into the city. What he found instead was Melia sitting on her bed, calmly sipping a cup of tea and quirking an unimpressed eyebrow at Lorithia’s blood-soaked corpse.
Oh sweet Bionis what happened here? A low keening sound escaped his mouth as his stress levels neared critical mass, and Melia merely eyed him with mild concern, as if the dead body of the royal Minister of Research slowly cooling on her floor was in no way disturbing or alarming on any level.
“Melia… wh… what?”
At his very reasonable question, Melia took another sip of her tea and calmly responded, “I wanted to try my hand at assassination. I’ve discovered it’s simply not my calling.” She took yet another sip of her tea, and Kallian could only question what god he had angered in his 151 years of life to deserve this.
Before Egil could respond to Zan- Shulk’s offer, he heard a thwack and a thump from below. Glancing down, past the body of Yaldabaoth, he saw that the older Homs, the one with the gunblade, was on the ground. Standing atop his back was the Nopon, holding that strange weapon (it almost looked like a brog sitting on a chair, if he remembered his Bionis lifeforms correctly) as if he had just swung it.
The Nopon seemed to realize Egil was staring at him, and cheerfully said, “Riki sorry for interrupt! Shulk and Egil continue!”
Not knowing how to react to such a strange interruption, the Machina made the decision to simply not react at all.
The sun glinted off the water as the party of seven calmly sat, resting in the soft sand or on colorful beach chairs. The sky was filled with color as nightfall approached, and if one looked closely, margaritas could be seen in the hands of Dunban and Sharla, being slowly sipped at in peace as the sky was slowly stained with pink and orange.