//------------------------------// // The Liberation of Griffonstone Pt. 2 // Story: A Passing Through Kamen Rider II: Ride the Wind // by thunderclap //------------------------------// Wyatt crossed the battlefield, sword in hand. With a quick stroke, he took out another griffon soldier. Even with the support of the guns, Wyatt was cutting through the resistance with relative ease. The plan was proceeding smoothly so far, which meant that he fully expected for something to go wrong. It was just a question of how close to Shadow he could get before said disaster struck. Diverting down an unblocked street, Wyatt inserted himself into a skirmish. A lone G-3 had hunkered down behind a collapsed wall, weathering the oncoming assault. Stringers pinged off his armor, a few having found gaps. Crouching beside the soldier, Wyatt looked him over. Sliding into cover, Wyatt signaled his arrival. Getting an affirmative, he sprang out of cover. Brandishing his sword, he cut through the closest griffon's weapons. With a flick of his wrist, he brought the hilt of his blade down on the temple of the opposing warrior and the griffon dropped with a gurgling squawk. Rolling out of cover, G-3 downed a pair of griffons with burst fire. Twisting his body, his gauntlet caught an incoming blade. Pivoting around G-3, Wyatt kicked the attacking griffon in the chest. With a surprised cry, the avian fighter crashed into a nearby wall. “You good?” Wyatt asked, sparing a glance to G-3. "Yeah, just got winged a little," the other rider answered. Even with the helmet distortion Wyatt could tell the stallion was young. Maybe right around Twilight’s age give or take a year. G-3’s armor shifted, a slight rustling of fabric could be heard within. “Barely punctured the undersuit. I won’t even need stitches after the battle at this rate.” Nodding, Wyatt advanced within the alley, pressing his back on the corner to peek around it. There was a squad of Milds facing off against a set of gun wielding griffons. The griffons had their backs to him, making his next decision easy. “Good, now stay put for a second. I’m gonna get the drop on these turkeys.” “Attack Ride: Invisible!” The air shimmered around Wyatt as he disappeared from sight. Strolling out of the alley, he casually approached the line of griffons. The first griffon dropped to a crack to the skull. The second and third collided in spectacular fashion, while the final griffon found a foot in his beak.  Once the last griffon fell, Wyatt reappeared and looked to the stunned squad. “Thought you fellas could use a hand.” Looking back to where he left G-3 he added, “You’re clear to come out, I took out the trash.” Checking his weapon, G-3 nodded in affirmation. “Better than I could’ve.” Patting his case, Wyatt chuckled. "True, I'm like a swiss army knife in rider form. Where were you headed?” The apparent leader of the squad stepped forward. "We've been given orders to shore up the rear of the main forces assaulting Shadow's presumed location. Also, we've just gotten word from the hive that there's a group called the Gore Knights trying to slam through our flanks." “Give me a direction,” Wyatt ordered, popping open his case.  “From our current location, north east,” another of the squad chimed in. “Since you have forms that can fly, no sense giving you street directions, Decade.” Transforming into Cassie form, Wyatt took his leave. Charging his suit’s capacitors, lightning greeted those brave enough to approach him.  “Wyatt!”  The familiar shout caused Wyatt to halt his flight in an instant, arcs of electricity jolting in front of him before fizzling out in the air. Cocking his head, he scanned the ground below for the source of the voice. His gut reaction was to shout back, but he reasoned that'd only make him an easy target for some griffon gunners. A hand stuck out of a doorway, bearing a red ring. Needing no other signal, Wyatt tucked into a dive before fanning his wings out. Touching down, he slunk towards the door. "Twi, what happened?" Wyatt asked, backing into the house. "Why aren't you armored up?" Twilight pushed the door closed, looking down at herself in irritation. “It was one of those Gore Knights. He had some ability to disrupt magic with sound waves. I’ve been trying for minutes now to gather my magic and transform again but my driver won’t even appear.”  Touching her ring to her belt, she demonstrated the issue. "I’ve been using smokescreens to stay out of sight. Don’t know how much longer that’ll work.” "Luckily I was able to find you," Wyatt stated, brow knitting beneath his helmet. "I can keep guard while you work to build your magic back up. Anything else I should know about these Gore Knights?" “I only saw two of them. One could summon dozens of phantom hands, and the other disrupts magic. Gilda confronted him while I slipped away.” Wyatt nodded, trying to think. "Okay. I'm thinking we should meet up with Gilda and focus on the Gore Knights. Let the Milds handle the main assault."   Twilight found herself running odds. Those odds went up with Wyatt, but she was still armorless. With just a sword and no magic, she wondered how long it would take before one of those stingers hit her?  The idea of using Wyatt as a living shield didn't appeal to her in the slightest. Chewing her lip, her eyes wandered as she labored over a plan.  Settling on the young man's card case, her eyes lit up. "We may not have to wait for my magic. Wyatt, do you remember where I put that Birth Driver I copied from alternate Spike?" “Yeah, I do.” Swapping in his Wizard card, Wyatt thought it strange to be wearing his lover’s armor. “Haven’t got much practice with this one. Let’s see how I do.” "Attack Ride: Connect!" A red magic circle appeared beside Wyatt. After a moment's hesitation, he plunged his hand through the shelf of the library greeting his fingers on the other side. His searching hands found nothing. “Er, Twilight? You sure you left it on the research bench?” "Of course I'm sure," Twilight answered, bristling at the question. "I triple check where everything is in the lab before and after every experiment." Pulling his hand back, Wyatt shook his head. “There’s nothing there, Twi.” Twilight remained silent, her expression neutral. It wasn’t inconceivable that she’d misplace something after an all night study session, but she’d been fairly certain that she hadn’t moved the driver in weeks. "We don't have time to tear the tree house apart," she concluded with a huff. "We just have to press forward." “Stop to get you a Mild?” "The spare suits are in the ships," Twilight stated, shaking her head. "It'd take too long to retrieve one.” Moving past him, Twilight slipped out the street. Snatching a few stringer guns, she slung them over her shoulder. “We’ll split up. You attract the most attention, which means  you should pull in the Gore Knights. I’ll link up with Gilda and make our way back to you.” Crossing back into daylight, Wyatt snapped a quick salute. "As you wish, Your Highness," he stated, taking to the air. "Operation Magenta Bullseye is a go!" Wrapping her wings around herself, Twilight hustled down the avenue. The battle worked in her favor, most combatants too busy shooting at each other to spot her. Shoving her hand in the stinger gun, she took a moment to familiarize herself with the trigger mechanism. It was rather large and fired when she clenched her hand into a fist. On the portion where her palm rested there was a button she assumed extended the stinger blade. Confident she could shoot the foreign gun, Twilight tried to retrace her steps to where she'd left Gilda. Tightening her wings around herself, she dipped into the shadows. The downpour muffled her hoofsteps, allowing her to skirt most engagements. Her journey was slow, hampered by the occasional patrol.  After what felt like an eternity, she finally made it to the street where she’d first encountered the Gore Knights. There were still some skirmishes peppered around the area, but the majority of the battle had progressed elsewhere. Pausing in the alley, Twilight replayed the fight after the arrival of the supernatural griffons. After a few brief moments, she traced the path that Gilda had led the lanky knight down. Much of the block had been leveled, dust still lingering in the air. After so many generations, Griffonstone had been rebuilt. A testament to what griffons could achieve beyond their miserly ways. And here she was, bringing ruin upon it once again. What had Dai-Shocker driven them to become? Clenching her jaw, Twilight pressed on. This would not be a pile of rubble for long. Once Shadow was dealt with she would consult the other princesses and rebuild Griffonstone once more. There was no way she'd let Dai-Shocker get the last laugh.  Considering Gilda’s lack of restraint, Twilight decided to check where the wreckage was heaviest. She found Elminster laying in a heap, his equipment broken and sparking. At least he was alive. She considered using a light healing spell on him, but thought better of it. Last thing she needed was her good turn rewarded with talons to the throat. Where would Gilda have gone? Picking up the remains of Elminster’s guitar, she found no answers for her magicless state. That had to mean that Elminster himself was the source and the guitar was a focus of some sort. Tossing the guitar aside, Twilight pulled her focus back to the task at hand. Research could come later. Breaking into a light jog, Twilight continued her search. Following the trail of splinters and shattered glass. An eagle’s screech brought her down a junction. A wall exploded, a handful of bodies landing on the street. A green form emerged from the dust cloud, staring after the bodies as if to dare them to stand back up. “Buncha idiots...” Gilda removed her helmet, grabbing a water canteen off a soldier. “You gonna just stand there, Twilight?” “I’ve been looking for you,” Twilight answered, sighing in relief. Reaching down at her own side, she took a swig off her own waterskin. “I’m still barely able to make my own horn glow,” she continued, wiping her mouth. “I found Wyatt earlier and he’s gone ahead to draw out at least one more of those Gore Knights.” “With guys like Elmer on the payroll, I doubt they’ll be too much trouble.” “Nice talk, but can you back it up?” Twilight challenged, motioning in the direction Wyatt had flown off to. “Or do you just want to stomp out the grunts all day?” "Oh, is that challenge supposed to rile me up?" Gilda asked, a smirk crossing her beak. "Because fuck you, it worked," she concluded slamming her helmet back in place. “Stay behind me, and keep checking your damn magic.” Twilight fell in line, checking her weapon. “You draw their fire and I’ll return it. We’re cutting through to meet up with Wyatt.” Gilda snorted, her wings twitching on her back. She dashed forward, though restrained herself so Twilight could just manage to keep pace. "Pretty easy to draw fire, I'm bright green and white." Resistance was fierce. Whatever their reasons, the griffons fought to protect their home. Twilight met them with her own determination, firing at those who dared to attack Gilda. Her first gun ran out quickly, unused to its weight and recoil. The second lasted longer, finding more targets than not.  Gilda flared her wings out, making herself as large as possible. Whenever Twilight missed a charging foe, she gladly cracked them across the skull with her hammer. Their charge was interrupted by a loud metallic scraping coming from up the street. Gilda was the first to react, using her hammer to block an incoming projectile.  “The Tartarus?” Gilda began, turning her hammer to get a better look at what had sunk into the weapon. “Is that a feather?” “Do you like it? Not as flashy as the others, I admit.” Heralded by a trill-like giggle, a griffoness emerged from a side street. Her feathers, a light green, bore a metallic sheen in the muted light of the storm. “I gotta say, you look pretty good in green, Gilda.” "Greta?" Gilda recoiled at the sight of her old friend. "First Elmer, now you?” Flaring her wings out, several feathers embedded themselves near Gilda’s paws. “It’s Zeta. Not that you’d care.” Gilda's own wings flared out, bristling at the accusation. "Think whatever you want about me, but I'm gonna rip out Shadow's throat. And not even you're gonna get in my way."  Charging, she brought her hammer down towards Zeta's head. Zeta’s wings crossed above her head. A harsh ringing emitted out as the hammer bounced off the shiny feathers. “There you go, running in without a thought. That’s all you ever do.” Twilight dashed from around Gilda, opening fire at Zeta's side while she was busy deflecting the hammer. Like the hammer, the stingers plinked off Zeta’s fur.  "Gilda, disengage!" Twilight warned, drawing in a breath to unleash dragon fire. Twilight’s fire caught the side of Gilda’s helmet, wreathing Zeta in flames.  Zeta’s clothes burned, the material falling as ash. Her fur and feathers tinged red, even a bright yellow. Screeching, she swiped at Twilight with white hot talons.  Extending the stringer blade, it fractured on impact. The metal screamed under the heat. Hissing in pain, the force of the swipe sent her hooves digging into the cobble streets. Gilda slammed into Zeta, sending the two tumbling to the ground. Gilda locked talons with Zeta, grunting in pain as a wing stabbed into her side. Her suit made the extreme heat only slightly tolerable.  "Genius move making her a living hot knife!" Gilda barked, slamming her head into Zeta's beak. A pained squawk and slight crunch greeted her actions, finding one of the few places on the other griffon that wasn't hard as steel.  Kicking Gilda off, Zeta swiped with her serrated wings. Rolling out of the way, Gilda saw the cut in the street Zeta left from the corner of her eye. Whipping her tail out, dust and debris sprayed in the metallic griffon's face. Zeta winced, her vision obscured for a brief moment. Pushing herself up, Gilda put herself between Zeta and Twilight. "Twi, either get your magic sorted out or get moving," Gilda snapped, looking back at the princess. "Those pea shooters are just dead weight in this fight." Twilight wanted to argue, but she knew Gilda was right. Steeling herself, she adjusted her ring one more time. With a silent prayer, she placed her hand over her belt. “Driver on!” the belt shouted, growing to its full driver form. With a wide grin, Twilight slipped her Land Style ring into place and transformed once more. “Now that’s more like it!” Gilda cackled, pulling Zeta into an arm lock and tossing the other griffon Twilight’s way. With her armor fully solidified, Twilight charged, slicing Zeta across the stomach. Sliding a hoof between the griffoness’ legs she used her free hand to twist the assassin off her paws and sent her tumbling back to Gilda. Not missing a beat, Gilda brought her hammer down on Zeta’s fresh wound, making her fellow griffoness bounce off the cobblestones. Zeta’s feathers gouged holes in the cobblestone, many impaling into the street. Twitching her wings, Zeta sent a slew of feathers flying towards her attackers.  Twilight and Gilda jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the projectiles. With a deep thunk, they buried themselves into the wall of a nearby home. Nodding at Gilda, Twilight brought her sword to bear. Pulling open the hand on her sword, Twilight slipped the Finale ring onto her finger before giving her sword a handshake. “Very Nice! Shake Hands!” Her sword shouted, A magic circle spreading from the hand on the hilt to the blade. Molten rock wrapped around the blade as Twilight moved in to give Zeta a slash straight across the chest. The rocks wrapped around the blade shot out into a crescent of energy, slamming into Zeta’s wings hard enough to dent them and send the hen flying. Zeta crashed into a shop, bringing it down on top of her. A cloud of dust obscured the wreckage, the cacophony of sound fading into the little plinks of debris. “Well hot damn,” Gilda said, putting her hammer into its holster at her hip. “Remind me not to piss you off Sparkles.”    “Let’s make sure she’s down before we start celebrating, okay?” “On it,” Gilda assured, sifting through the wreckage. After a few minutes of picking up the biggest of the debris, Zeta came into view. Kneeling down, Gilda put two talons to the other hen’s neck. “Slow, steady heartbeat. She’s out cold, Princess.” Twilight nodded, allowing herself to relax. “Let’s get her secured and proceed to the rendezvous point.” “Not sure we’ve got anything that’ll hold those wings of hers, but I’ll give it a try.” Unmorphing, Gilda reached into her pack. Pulling out a few sets of handcuffs designed to restrict magic, she jury-rigged them together to bind Zeta’s hands to her wings in what was sure to be an uncomfortable position once the would-be assassin awoke. Wyatt hovered over the battlefield, calling down lightning strikes at indeterminate intervals. He made no effort to be subtle, opting instead to make as much noise as possible while he kept an eye out for any of the Gore Knights. For all his efforts, most of what he had accomplished was giving the Mild Squads breathing room in their charges. “Oh Gore Knights, come out and play~ay~” Wyatt called out, summoning another bolt. “What? Scared of someone who wears magenta to a fight?!” Phantom hands shimmered into existence, striking at Wyatt from every angle imaginable. Grunting, Wyatt forced himself into a controlled crash onto a nearby rooftop. His back bounced against the tiles before he forced himself into a roll and came to a jarring stop. “Operation Magenta Bullseye: great success,” he coughed out, pulling himself to his feet. Spreading his wings, he began building up a charge. Wyatt let his eyes scan the battlefield, looking for his attacker. He muttered a silent curse that he neglected to get a detailed description from Twilight. Hands erupted through the roof beneath him, dozens of them locking onto his legs. They pulled him down, pivoting in the air to slam him into a wall.  Wyatt groaned, feeling several pops along his spine. He even swore he could hear his bones grinding in protest as he stood once more. Charging himself again, lightning arced around him like a cage. “I can’t say I’m a fan of the Master Hand act,” he called out. Wyatt kept his ears peeled, figuring he'd hear the knight before seeing him. "NInjor, can you do some recon for me?" He whispered, slowly creeping along the floor. "He can't see or hear you so see if you can find him. I'm looking to avoid a third sneak attack." Pulling himself away from Wyatt, Ninjor’s wisp sank through the floor. Terrible silence settled in, carrying with it a growing anxiety. In that expanse of moments, Wyatt ran through his card list, stringing together a combat deck. For someone who swarmed him from all sides, there was only one real option to counter. Ninjor's wisp floated up, retreating into his sword. "If you move five feet to the left, you'd be right above him. One good punch should get you through these weakened floors." Slipping a new card in, Wyatt crept to his destination. The floor exploded under his fist, raining broken wood down on Wulfgar. “Gotcha~” he grinned, closing his driver.  “Kamen Ride: OOO’s!” His driver called out, red, yellow and green rings emerging from it to cover Wyatt and donning him in the tricolored armor of OOO’s. When his armor solidified, Wyatt followed up with a punch to the griffon’s chest while he was still reeling. Wulfgar coughed, hands forming around him. “Cheap shot...” He retaliated with a barrage of fists, putting some distance between himself and Wyatt. “Says the guy who used a sneak attack twice,” Wyatt retorted, bobbing and weaving through the flurry of fists. Despite his best effort, a few of the punches found their mark, sending him sliding along the floor.  Gritting his teeth, Wyatt pulled out his next card from his battleplan. “I’m feeling a little outnumbered here, how about I fix that?” “Form Ride: GataKiriBa!” A musical tune rang out from Wyatt’s belt, his armor shifting to the all green combo. Wrapping his wings around himself, Wulfgar filled the room with spectral limbs. “Shadow’s gonna give me a king’s ransom for your belt. Now shut up and die!” Wyatt responded in kind, filling the room with copies of himself. “Good luck with that,” a chorus of his voice sounded all at once. “I’ve been told that I’m harder to kill than a cockroach.” The horns on every copy’s helmet sparked, green lightning arcing towards Wulfgar. Wulfgar screeched, his hands converging on Wyatt. A good number grabbed weapons, while just as many simply struck out. Beak arched in a smirk, he began his assault. Keeping up the lightning, the army of Wyatts swung the mantis blades on their arms and parried the worst of the barrage. A few powered through the empty handed strikes, dogpiling onto the griffon. Grunting under the weight, Wulfgar shifted his hands towards prying the clones off. “Get...the hell...off!” Digging his claws in, he took a few steps forward. “I’m not a goddamn teddy bear!” “Really?” the horde questioned in unison, more clones joining the dogpile. “Because the way you punch could’ve convinced me otherwise.” A roar of anger tore out of Wulfgar’s throat as he muscled through the growing pile and dashed towards the nearest wall. There was a crash and in a matter of seconds, the griffon was through the building and out onto the street. “Bad move.” Wyatt filled the street, surrounding Wulfgar in a sea of green and black. “I’m running a little late, so let’s wrap things up.” “Final Attack Ride: O-O-O-OOO’s!” Wyatt’s belt called out.  Every clone jumped, getting high into the air before positioning their legs for a kick. “Seiya!” the crowd cried, pummeling the massive griffon in a sea of kicks. Wulfgar conjured a few more hands, pushing against the onslaught. They faded out, their master left unconscious. Sighing in relief, Wyatt’s armor reverted to his base Decade form and the clones faded from existence. “And that is one fried chicken.” Once Wyatt was sure Wulfgar wasn’t going to come to, he grabbed a squad of Milds and had them restrain the knight before he took off towards the rendezvous spot. Twilight passed along the streets, the sounds of battle threatening to make her ears ring. There was a loud crash coming from the other side of town, something she took as a signal that a Gore Knight had taken Wyatt’s bait. She had to fight her instincts to turn back to the source of the sound. Wyatt was able to take care of himself, despite his goofy disposition suggesting otherwise. “We’re getting close,” Gilda commented. “You sure you're not gonna have another glitch?” “I’ll be fine as long as the other Gore Knights don’t have magic disrupting abilities,” Twilight assured, flexing her fingers and feeling her magic flowing freely. “What about you? This is the longest you’ve been morphed.” Gilda slapped her chest. “You kidding? Never felt better!” Twilight nodded, taking a turn into a narrow alleyway. “Alright, just be sure to pull out if you start to feel fatigued or any adverse effects.” The only answer she received was a derisive grunt. Her hoof sank into a puddle, threatening to throw her off balance as she came to a sudden stop at the edge of the alley. “I believe that’s the building the scout mentioned. What do you think, Gilda?” “...Yeah, I wasn’t paying too much attention to the briefing.” “We’re going to have a talk about that later,” Twilight deadpanned, glancing back at the griffon. “But for now we’ll hold up here until Wyatt shows up.” Taking off her helmet, Gilda patted at her waist. “The hell did this suit do with my canteen? You see it anywhere?” “Do you zone out everything that isn’t related to fighting?” Twilight questioned, leaning against the alley wall. “Items like clothing are placed into a subspace area of the Morphin’ Grid until your morph is canceled out. That includes your canteen.” “I just wanted a drink...” Gilda rested against a wall, letting her helmet drop. “None of that stuff helps in a fight. Which means, it doesn’t really help me.” Rolling her eyes, Twilight used her Connect Ring to pull out a canteen and tossed it to Gilda. “But it does help you know not to look for something that isn’t there.” “I’ll leave it to eggheads like you to know that stuff for me, Princess,” Gilda said smirking before taking a long draught from the canteen. “Tch. Not much of a break. Looks like your stud’s here.” "You wouldn't be so sarcastic if you saw him post-workout," Twilight shot back, running up to Wyatt as he touched down in front of the alley. Wyatt threw his arms around Twilight, gathering her up in his arms. “I’m not a fan of this place. The people really kinda suck. How’s your outing been?” "Your mare slammed my ex through a wall," Gilda stated, putting her helmet back on. "Not as cathartic as I'd hoped." “Ignore her.” Twilight squeezed Wyatt, extracting herself from his grasp. “Shadow’s hideout is just around the corner. The scouts didn’t see any defenses, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Stay alert.” “Alert is my middle name,” Wyatt assured, taking point. “I’ll go in first, I’ve got more options to counter whatever surprises Shadow might have waiting for us.” Nothing stood out about this building. Its shape and size bland and purely utilitarian. If not for the detailed report from the changeling scout, it could be passed over as just another bunkhouse.  Staring out at the building from his spot at the alley's edge, Wyatt checked for any hint at defenses. His eyes were met with not but a simple building. Grabbing a rock, he sent it on a course for the front door. It hit with a solid thunk, clattering to the cobblestone street without ceremony.  Silence followed. A dreadful silence that Wyatt wished would perish in fury and hellfire. With no other sign forthcoming, he exited onto the street and advanced toward the barracks. Building a charge, Wyatt brandished both his swords. Before Wyatt was even twenty feet away from the door, something struck him on the back of the head, sending him stumbling forward. “Far enough, light bulb.” Another object impacted his leg, knocking him flat. “We’re not taking house calls.” Wyatt turned to the source of the voice. What he found was a griffon of average height and build clad in a white shirt with a gray pinstripe vest. On his legs were plain black trousers and a wide brimmed black hat obscured the view of his head feathers. The only thing out of place about the griffon were the massive gauntlets covering his talons. The gauntlets were polished gunmetal gray and had large chambers at the wrists. “Why don’t you take your dame and get the tartarus out of my town, ya?” “Don’t think I’m gonna do that,” Wyatt said, hopping to his feet. “The guy who gave you those gloves has been targeting me so I’m gonna have a little chat with him. Now, unless you wanna find out what a three on one fight feels like, maybe you should be the one to start stepping.” Flexing his fingers, the griffon launched a pair of projectiles at Wyatt. One went past his head, colliding with a wall. The other crashed against his helmet, rocking Wyatt’s head back. A second impact on his shoulder sent him into a tumble.  Twilight fired off several shots at the griffon. Running out of the alley, she put herself between the griffon and Wyatt. “Did you really have to taunt him?” she asked, her irritation tempered by concern creeping into her voice.    “I didn’t expect him to do that...” Wyatt steadied himself, sizing up their opponent. “Can you at least tell us your name?” “Gandred the Ricochet,” the lanky griffon answered, spinning the chambers on his gauntlets. “I think you can hazard a guess how I got that title.” Gathering his energy, Wyatt conjured a bolt of lightning. Forcing Gandred from his perch, Wyatt followed him into the sky. Empowering his fist, he swung at Gandred’s head. Gandred tucked his wings in, falling out of Wyatt’s reach. Folding his wings, Wyatt dove after the griffon. Building up a charge, he fired a ball of electricity at Gandred. Firing at the ground, Gandred’s projectiles bounced off the cobblestones. Raining upward, several found their mark. Wyatt’s wings groaned, sending him into a wall. Tucking into a roll, Gandred felt the electricity graze his tail.  Gritting his teeth, Wyatt pushed himself to his feet. Cards flashed through his mind, discarded one after another. Retrieving one, he traded in his Cassie form for Kiva and the Dogga form. With a quick flick of his wrist, his armor shifted into the crimson armor of the bat-like rider, the purple chest piece adding to his bulk and a hammer came into his grip. “Fancy armor,” Gandred commented. “Can it do ya any better?” “Why don’t you try taking a shot at me and find out?” Wyatt challenged, letting his hammer rest at his side.  Gandred fired several more times, never directly at Wyatt. Keeping his distance, Gandred stopped only to slam new cartridges into his gauntlets.  Wyatt flinched, enduring multiple strikes.  Stepping forward, he dragged the large hammer along the ground.  Tensing his muscles, Wyatt charged his opponent. Swinging the hammer upward, he drove Gandred back towards the building.   Twilight steeled herself, having gotten a good gauge on Gandred from Wyatt’s engagement. She ran out, ready to take to the skies only to stop when a shot rang out and something struck her in the foot. Looking down, there was a white substance cementing her to the ground. Another shot rang out, colliding with her shoulder. Twilight’s body locked up, electricity surging through her body. Gilda tried to follow the shot, scanning the skies for the assailant. Pulling out her hammer, Gilda placed herself before Twilight.  “I ain’t playing games. Just show your face so I can smash it!” Gilda challenged, brandishing her weapon. “All bluster with no skill to back it up,” A feminine voice taunted. A hen stepped into view on a nearby rooftop. She was tall, easily matching Gilda’s height. Blue tipped feathers poked out from a brown brimmed hat. On her shoulders was a brown mantle that hung down along her back and had white lines at her collarbone. Covering her chest was a crude hide vest and a light blue shirt beneath it. Cocked on her hip was a belt containing two empty holsters. “Classic Gilda.” Rising up, Gilda swiped at the hen’s knee. “I didn’t throw in with a mad scientist, Brumhilda. Or did you give yourself a new name?” “No, I liked my name fine enough.” Brumhilda replied, jumping back from the swipe. “All I did was add a title to it. Brumhilda the Six Shot,” she punctuated her statement by raising her arm and leveling a revolver at the center of Gilda’s helmet. With a smirk, she pulled the trigger, letting her arm follow the recoil. Speed allowed Gilda to lower the shot to a graze. As the bullet scraped her helmet, fire flooded over her. Her panic lived for a glorious moment, killed the next by flaming talons. Wreathed in fire, Brumhilda’s claws raked across Gilda’s visor. Clicking her beak, Gilda tried to take a swing with her hammer, catching open air. Unable to correct herself, she felt the searing talons rake across her back. “They didn’t give you any training, did they?” Brumhilda brought her leg up, her flaming paw crashing down on Gilda’s wing. Gilda squawked, her wing twitching pitifully. Her eyes narrowed to pinpricks beneath her helmet, the burning of the flames escaping her notice as she fought off shock setting in. “Bit of a shame, really.” Brumhilda knelt by Gilda, clicking her tongue. “Green really doesn’t suit you.” Brumhilda dropped low, allowing Twilight’s sword to sail over her head. Drawing her gun’s hammer back, she brought it to bare. A sickly green bullet impacted Twilight’s chest. Splattered in green, Twilight’s armor popped and sizzled.  “Maybe it’ll look better on you?”  Twilight hissed in pain, feeling the acid seeping through her armor. "I already have green in my wardrobe."  Slipping the Hurricane ring on, she commanded the wind to surge. Gale force winds whipped around Twilight, catching under Brumhilda’s wings.  Forced into flight, Brumhilda fired the rest of her cylinder into the growing storm. Swept up in Twilight’s winds the wayward projectiles found their journey ending with the ground. Aiming into the cyclone, Twilight fired a retaliatory shot. Another followed, then two, then three. Focusing through her ring, the winds became her hands, guiding each projectile to its target.  Brumhilda fired wildly, emptying her second cylinder. Her last bullet sparked a surge, electricity arcing on her talons. Twilight’s shots curved around Brumhilda, none making it close to her body.  Twilight felt a growl of irritation trembling at her throat, draconic instincts clawing at her thoughts. She kept firing, giving Brumhilda no option but to dodge. A stray bullet, caught in the war of wind and lightning, wormed through Brumhilda’s shield.  A terrible screech emitted from the griffon's beak. Her concentration dropped, lowering her shield and leaving her to be swept up by the winds. “Y-you bitch!” Brumhilda roared, her hands pressed against her left eye. Gilda pressed the advantage, flying above Brumhilda and swinging her hammer down on the other hen's back. "No worries Hildie, I hear guys dig eyepatches." Flaring her wings, Brumhilda softened her impact. “Gandred! Stop fucking around with the mole rat. We’re gone.” Gandred wheezed, Wyatt’s hammer cracking a rib. “Right... Outta here.” Firing at his paw, Gandred slipped from Wyatt’s space. A few shots were sent out towards Twilight and Gilda.  Wyatt debated chasing after them, but figured that'd be a diversion.  "Something seems fishy," Wyatt commented, returning to his base form.  “Bitch just got her eye shot out. Think that’s good enough reason to scram.” Wyatt gave her a flat look. “From their point of view we’re here to invade their home and take out the person who built it up from nothing. Them just running is odd.” Gilda shrugged. “I’ve lived here. You don’t change a griffon's feathers that easily.” Wyatt nodded, but said nothing. He turned towards the target building and continued to approach it. “Guess we’ll see what nasty surprises there are in store.” As if to taunt him, the door to the barracks blew off its hinges in a violent explosion. Black smoke billowed out of the doorway, a figure stepped through the settling cloud. The pure white outfit and odd clear helmet marked them as their target. “It seems my flock has fled the coop,” General Shadow lamented, eyeing a patch of Brumhilda’s blood. “No matter, they served their purpose.” “Was that purpose to get their ass kicked and be generally annoying?” Wyatt taunted, pointing the tip of his sword at the man. “Because if so then you have some skewed priorities.” Shadow laughed, brushing debris off his shoulder. “I merely needed time. Time which they gave me.” “Time for what exactly?” Wyatt asked, quirking a brow beneath his helmet. “All I see is you.” “You see, I caught onto Midnight’s little game.” Shadow smiled. A razor sharp, lethal expression. “Her ‘gift’ as it were is most fascinating. Shall we see just what it entails?” “If I say no will you give up?” Wyatt offered, bracing himself for whatever Shadow was scheming. Holding his arms out at his sides, a tremor ran through Shadow’s body. Erratic pulses worked along his limbs, his muscle mass expanding. Sickening cracks echoed along the plaza bones pushing out of skin and making it fall away. Wyatt and the others could only watch in horror as Shadow’s body twisted and morphed. When everything was said and done, his form was metal and skeleton, very little of what was once the man left. A tube carrying a strange blood-red liquid ran from one of the two blade-like appendages jutting from his back down to his left hand stained the digits. All that was recognizable was his face and helmet, untouched by the changes.  “I have become what you would call a ‘Greed,” Shadow elaborated, stepping closer to Wyatt. Trailing behind him, his long tail moved in tandem with his steps, a crescent moon-shaped blade capped the appendage. “It is an extraordinary experience.” “Really? Because you look like Rito Revolto if he developed a meth addiction,” Wyatt answered, finally finding his voice. He almost wanted to thank Shadow for revealing what he’d become. It made it easier to select his cards. Slipping the cards into his belt, his armor changed into UniSaPo in a flash of light. Shadow’s eyes shimmered, crimson suns against his pale skin. A rival light burned against Wyatt’s, entrapping the rider in the walls of a red energy pyramid.  Wyatt cursed, slamming his fist harmlessly against the wall of the pyramid. “Fascinating.” Shadow circled the pyramid. “We’ll save you for last.” Turning away, he leapt towards Wyatt’s companion.