DeviousMe

SOMEWHERE IN SIBERIA

With a squeal of brakes, the train pulled into the station that held the end of its track - the ground floor of the Labtower hidden in the deepest regions of Siberia, the Taiga.

Nobody was here at the moment, and so the letter went straight to a matter transmitter, flung out into the cosmos as a fine bit if quintadimensional energy...

---------------------

FRIGATE MAR'KASUK
UNDISCLOSED COORDINATES - CODENAME "Sector Morning Red"
MISSION: CLASSIFIED

The insectoids milled about listleslly. Studying a supernova was never one of their favorite activities, but if it could someday yield a weapon, the Itikil were all for it.

One of the mantis-like beings looked up as the matter transmitter spat out a paper envelope, curning hsi three fingers around the object and examining it closely with unblinking compound eyes.

"Allow me." Vern stepped up beside the Itikil, who promptly opened the letter for him and handed him the slip of paper inside.

A second later, a broad, toothy smile crossed Vern's face, "Seems I'm invited to a little party. Heh, I do hope a few of the guys come too. You;re almost done with your research and don;t really need me here anymore, right?"

"Correct." the Itkil clicked his madibles, "We are grateful. Research speed has incrased forty-two percent since your arrival."

"I aim to please." Vern replied as the forwarded the message, the stepped into the matter trasnmitter. These things were handy as nothing else. With the flip of a stiwch, he was gone...

The postman's teeth chattered as he approahed the train station. It didn't really matter what time of year it was - it was almost always freezing in Vladivostok.

Still, he went about his duties, dropping the letter he carried off to the train's conductor, a short and stocky man who seemed to be in his mid-30s.

"Alexei Kirov." he said to the conductor as he handed him the envelope, turing away again with a quick goodbye.

"Da." the conductor only said as he closed the engine door and sounded the horn. Within seconds, the train rumbled out of the station and onto the Trans-Siberian rail.

No sooner had the train left the city limits, the conductor's face crumbled apart, flittering away in a shower of pale-blue energy.

The protector bot looked closely at the letter, its blood-red lenses focusing in and out.

Yes, it would deliver this - and without looking inside.

A blizzard soon swallowed up the speeding train, which was going a LOT faster than it should have been able to. It wasn;t long before it transferred to a rail buried in the snow leading off the main route.

The contours faded away as the optical camouflage engaged, rendering the train invisible. It headed for its destination...

((I'll try my hand too. Hope I've got enough time ))

((I'm afraid I have to bow out of this one, but maybe only temporarily. Time is getting short for me these days and I'm in too many RP threads right now. Though I may be back later on if I get the time again. ))

"So do I." Allen sighed, "And you're right. Zanny's not going to stop just because we're after him here."

He turned to the others with a stern look in his eyes, "Head back to Tokyo. Thell the train Allen Fang vouches for you and it shouldn't give you any lip. As for me, I've got some digging to do. I hope our paths will cross again soon..."

With that, he hailed a posessed Harley Davidson that was carrying a sign marking it as hirable transporation.

"Take care of yourselves." Allen said after he and the vehicle had agreed on the price, "I don't want to come back and see everything in ruins now."

And the strange Harley roared off, carrying its even stranger passenger off into the perpetual night. Neither the traffic nor the crowds seemed to mind. It was all business as usual...in the Side...

"Eh, my bad on the expression." Allen scratched his head, "I forgot you guys don't know. Dang, this is a tough one to explain...then again, you've taken everything else in good stride so far. Still, I'm not sure if I should tell you..."

Now there was a REAL problem. he couldn't just blurt out that all they thought was real was just an illusion generated by their senses to mask true reality because it was too much for them to bear...could he...?

Then again, there was a chance they already knew. A few humans had voiced that opinion - and more often than not, they'd promptly been declared crackpots and shipped off to the nearest asylum.

Now Allen really wished he had one of his telepathic friends here...

"Damn it, Al, why do the people you drag in here always go for the good stuff?" Alex snorted, leering at Toshio for a moment.

"Put it on my tab." Allen waved him off, again lost in thought.

Sea definetely had a point. If they closed more portals in Tokyo, it would certainly draw Zan out eventually. Sure, he'd send more and more powerful servants first, but he would inevitable have to come himself in some from or fashion.

Then what...?

Did they have anything to take on someone with appartently all thje power of a Transient Being? Someone that WAS perhaps a Transient?

Then again, this oculd be an advantage to them. Transient Beings always had some sort of weakness, or something they couldn't do because it went againt the nature of their existence.

The only question was...if Zan was one, WHAT was the a Transient of...?

This only compounded with the large chance that if Zan was defeated on Earth, he'd retreat to his own realm and start another attack. Or he would expand his realm to encompass the planet. And if he really controlled everything in there...well, things could get complicated REAL fast...

"We need more info." Allen decided, "As well as a counter-illusionist. I know where to find the second, but not the first. So let's start asking questions."

He paid the bill in full and started heading out into the semi-existent alley again. One of the best places to get good info on REALLY powerful beings had always been the Street of the Gods...

As things grew quieter, Allen nodded to Alex.

"Not in my bar." the sullen man grumbled at the onlookers. If they were really fool enough to try something in here, they were either extremely stupid or extrememly poerful.

The Mortician's defenses were nothing to be sneezed at. It was said that Merlin himself had put them into place, and that his Awful Will still held strong control even from beyond the grave. Being dead didn't stop you from being a major player in the Side...

"So it would seem..." Allen mumbled thoughtfully. Humanity had no idea what power it really had. But Zan sure was making ample use of it.

"Right then, first thing's first. We'll eventually have to take on Zanny on his own terms. That is, unless he decides to stop hiding and come out himself. For that, we'll need someone whose talent is control. Alex, any reports on the Mad Man lately?"

The bartender shook his head, "Zip. Mad's gone under. Maybe he finally went completely insane and cracked."

"Doubt it. But it's a possibility. So that means we'll have to track him down..."

((Oh, my bad ))

Allen's eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" he said coldly to whatever was standing in front of him. He knew it wasn't Alex. Alex would never say something like that. First of all, he'd never show he was scared. Second, he'd not mention ANYTHING that could possibly drive out cusomers - it was bad for business. And Alex HATED what was bad for business.

"What do you mean?" the startled bartender replied, "Don't you remember me? I'm Al..."

Allen snatched up the man by the throat and yanked him clean over the bar proper, pinning him to the floor. But before he could even say anything, whatever he held dissolved into a puddle of gelatinous orange goo.

"Not again!" a shout suddenly echoed from behind the bar, in a very tired-sounding and annoyed tone, "That's the third one this week!"

"Oh, hi, Alex." Allen smiled as he rose off the floor again, shaking the gel from his fingers, "Is it really you this time?"

"Yeah, yeah." he grumbled, looking at the mess on the floorboards. Somthing else to chalk up for the monthly cleaning, "Been trying to run the place 24/7 using copies with my personality. But I guess they're still retaining too much independent thought there."

"I'll say." Allen agreed, sitting back down on a stool, "You hear what I said?"

"Are you NUTS? I was sleeping - 'till you and your racket woke me up, anyway!"

"Then listen carefully..."

A few minutes went by, the two speaking in hushed whispers, so as not to alert any of the other customers.

"Sounds bad. And I'll agree with Number Seventeen there. This guy's a major player. I don't know of anyone that could stop him who'd be willing to - for the sake of humans, at least. And you know how the others are."

"Yeah...always too high and mighty to do anything until it's too late. You'd think they could smell trouble coming by now."

"Oh, they can. They just don't care. And I seriously doubt you'll be able to convince any of them to help you."

"This much is true...well, at least I've got a clue now."

Allen turned back to Sae and her companions, "I'm not too familiar with Japanese belief - but since your nation came under attack first, it's gotta have something to do with it. Tell me, who are the dieties of your people...?"

Oh, fine, I can no longer resist. Note: the Council and the Concile are not the same. They aren't even remotely related.

Member One: Sabre Vern

From the personal logs of Sabre Vern, interstellar craft ASU'VYAN...

I should have listened.

WE should have listened.

Power means nothing without wisdom, and I feel my wisdom was very lacking in judgement all this time.

But we felt complacent, secure - even on that dark day for so many other races when the Concile came to our home (supplement: M0, the Milky Way), we felt no worry about their machinations. We cared nothing for their disputes of territory, and with the promise of freedom and unity for the entire galaxy, the ends seemed to justfy the means.

Even when their means were obviously wrong, wiping out entire peoples just for speaking out against their version of supposed 'unity', we did nothing. We were explorers, considered ourselves above their squabbles for power. We were searching for greater wisdom, both inward and outward, and thought ourselves and our dreams better than to be sullied by such things.

We were wrong.

From what I have gathered, they came upon us one day with an ultimatum: join and serve, or disobey and die.

Never willing to accept the ideals of others so fundamentally flawed, my people took up arms. They were strong...but the Concile was stronger. The battle raged for many revolutions, and it seemed it would escalate into the Second Conflict so many had seen coming.

But it was not to be. Our defenses fell one after another, as wave after wave of SVE ships crashed into them. Even the most solid of rocks cannot withstand the beating of the ocean forever. And so Krayt fell. Now I know why. With the resources of over eighty enslaved galaxies to draw on, the Concile's potential is nearly limitless.

My people were eviscerated, our dreams shattered along with our homeworld into so many pieces of dust and debris. They wiped out everything we had gathered in so many millenia.

By the time I returned with my ship from Satellite 1 (supplement: the Small Magellanic Cloud), it was all over. Our tranquil system was a stellar dump, only useless hulks and rocks remaining of what had once been a great civilization.

But we are not beaten.

I am not beaten.

I will fight them - by ANY means necessary...

End of log entry.

((Cool, someone else still reads books! I don't feel so old-fashioned now. And yeah, but I don't know what's copyrighted in there or not, so I just stole the general concept of a spirit world. I don't feel like getting sued. But if you know the story, feel free to add to it. I've been trying to pass guidance to you guys for some time now. ))

"Attention?" Allen chuckled, looking at the milling people and other things on the sidewalks, "Don't worry, the only attention we're likely to be getting is from Zanny's hitmen. The average Sider minds his own business if he doesn't want to die an exruciatingly painful death."

Just then, an alley appeared out of nowhere in the cunction between two rowhouses they were standing next to.

"Ah, it's here." Allen commented, satisfied, "I was afraid we were going to have to take another way around. Let's go."

The alley was choked with dirt, litter, trash, and dried blood. At the end sat a large steel door that seemed very out of place in the brick wall it sat in. Over the door hung a hand-painted sign - THE MORTICIAN'S COFFIN.

The Morician's Coffin was rumored to be one of the oldest bars in the Side, and had changed names a few times down the cenuries, so maybe it was. Certainly no one rememebred a time when it hadn't been there, including immortal beings. It sat at the end of a tucked-back alley that wasn't always there, and the sign above the door was the only indication of its existance. The Mortician's didn't advertise - either you knew where to go or you had no business there in the first place.

Allen knocked casually on the door, and a slit slid open like in a cheesy movie about prohibition, a gleaming pair of yellow eyes asking for the pasword.

"You know as well as I do there's never been a password!" Allen sneered at the eyes, and they sighed.

"Fine, fine...gotta ruin all my fun..."

The slit slid closed again and after much clicking, the door swung open. There was no one on the other side, and the slit didn't exist there either. The inside of the door was just one solid metal plate. The eyes were just a spell on the door itself, giving it the authority to turn away people it didn't like.

A set of large metal stairs creaked and clanged loudly as they walked down and into the dimly lit establishment, notifying everyone that new customers had arrived - which was exactly the point. The bar's present owner, Alex the Mortician (though nodody quite knew if he had named the bar after himself or vice versa) didn't like susprises one bit.

Standing behind the bar proper and weraing his trademark scowl that never semed to leave his face, Alex looked up for a moment from fakely cleaning a class, throwing a glance in Allen's direction.

They were friends - sort of. As close as someone could get in the Side, anyway. Alex grunted something and Allen nodded in return as he bade the others to follow.

The bar was full of the usual unusual suspects, tables and chairs filled with just about everything imaginable. A zombie was busily consuming six cigars at once, attempting to beat the old world record for chain smoking - it was said only the dead could set it, and there wasn't anyone to argue that.

The fumes were greedily absorbed by a pair of smoke ghosts dancing about the bar in a sort of waltz, sucking up the cloud of cigar smoke every time they passed the zombie's table.

A trio of nuns were playing poker for a flask of what was labeled to be angel's tears, and from the looks of their opponents, a duo of bulky (and this time real) werewolves, they were winning.

"Be careful with those guys." Allen whispered as he pointed to that table, "They're pretty dangerous, so try not to upset them."

If he was asked if he meant the werewolves, he would sternly decline. The nuns were the dangerous ones. They were Sisters of the Holy Chain Saw, and they had never hesitated to preach they belief by dismemberment to anyone or anything that came near them in ire, whether they wanted to hear it or not.

"Nice to see you again, Alex." Allen finally said as they approached the bar proper.

"Don't expect me to say the same." Alex grunted back, his eyes hidden under overly dark sunglasses, scowling as he always did, "You always bring trouble. And that's bad for business. What do you want?"

"Information. There's someone named Zan invading Japan - and from the looks of it, maybe other places too. Got any tips for us...?"

Allen turned and threw a glance in the direction of Laserblade's finger.

"Yes, I'd say so. Colorful thing. Probably one of Baron Frankenstein's creations. He builds all sorts of stuff. Nice to see something of his not trailing blood all over for once."

He turned back to the mech, "Well, at least I'm fairly sure you won't try to waste us then. You can call me Al. And who are we actually speaking to here? Or are you an AI?"

During the coversation, Allen never let his guard down. For all they knew Zan's assassins could be lurking around any corner now...

With a satisfied now, Allen saw that the attacker's demise had discouraged the road traffic from moving ever closer to Laserblade - at least for now.

"Tourists." he spat quietly, then walked up to the mech, "No more megaphones, alright? Now pardon me if I come across with suspicion towards you here, but screaming out loud at people to 'identify themselves' is generally a deathwish here. I'd be a lot more comfortable if I knew who you are first..."

((Don't sweat it ))

What the...? Who the heck is this guy?! And why is he shouting through a megaphone? Oh damn, a tourist! Is he crazy?!!!

Indeed, the megaphone drew the ire of something that looked like a car, parked on the side of the road in search of its next meal. And it wasn't picky.

"Stop shouting and get away from there!" Allen yelled, unholstering a rifle and brining it to bear, "Get away from there!"

If Laserblade could see the car now, he would observe that it came right for him, viciously snapping a mouth of fanged teeth where the engine block should have been...!

((Well, Plague wrote that Toky Bay will soon be attacked, so you could be there, OR you could ahve come with us to the Side, which is a junction point betwen worlds. I;ve described it in detail in my last 5 posts or so, but basically it's always night there and everything humans have every imagined runs around there doing whatever. It's a dark and evil place where things are never as they seem and death isn't the worst thig lurkingg around every corner.

If you'd liek, just say you've been with us all along. If your Emcha stows away in a small pack via the always-ready patented shriking technology , feel free to carry it around. If not, everything in the Side is built much larger then usual since demons and creatues of all sorts use it, so no problem there. ))

"So the demons have the gir's soul..." Allen mumbled, "Now what would they want it for...? I wonder..."

"Oh, sorry." he apologized, "Sank into my thoughts. Ah, I see we're here."

They stopped in the middle of what looked like downtown London. As they exited the haunted conveyance, Allen paid in full and even left a tip. You didn't stiff the Poltergeists - at least not if you wanted the stuff around you to remain inate.

"Don't think too much about the transition." Allen commented, "Yeah, we're actually in London now - or at least int eh part of the Side that resides in London. The Side is spread all over your planet. It's just that very few people ever notice. The oriental parts are mostly uptown. But where we need to go is downtown, right here in one of the darkest parts of the Side..."

"That's the idea." Allen chuckled at Ryuji's statement, "And it's a test as well. But more on that later. So it looks like the first thing we need is info. Sadly, I don't know anyone off-hand who'd be able to help us with this. But I think I know where to find some."

Allen stepped closer to the road, and the traffic immediately stayed a little further away from the curb. He spied into the distance and found what he was looking for - a large sedan chair that could hold them all floating along in the middle of the flow of cars and other things.

He waved it to them, and it quickly got closer, stopping right in front of them. On the side, the logo read: FIRMA POLTERGEIST: HIN UND RETOUR, SCHELL UND BILLIG.

Allen smiled. They had changed their slogan again - there and back, fast and cheap. Well, if that's what drew customers these days...

He bade them to enter the posessed wheelless carriage, then closed the door behind them, and could see they had upgraded to armored glass. Apparenly, the Poltergeists had made some improvements since the last time he was here.

"The Mortician's." Allen requested, and the sedan chair began moving, weaving back into the flow of traffic with the ease that only a ghost could muster.

"So," he turned to Toshio, "Tell us more about this soul you're looking for. And especially why. That's a very important piece of the puzzle..."

((I'd certainly hope not. If he did, the story would go very boring very fast.))

"Tommy Oblivion," Allen answered Toshio, "he's an existentialist. Someone we should watch out for, especially here. And Zanny's my name for Zanael, the head honcho behind the attack on Earth. Sounds better than 6K, in my opinion."

Allen sighed as he saw the stand burst into flames, but said nothing. It was better that people feared them here, "And as for finding souls, yes there are many ways - though most of them will cost you your own, or worse."

He looked about the street again, "Damn, I'd really hoped he'd send someone after us who we could squeeze for information. And I doubt he'd be so obvious as to have a temple or something on the Street of the Gods. We'll have to start form square one here. What does everyone here know about Zanny? All I know is that he's at least six thousand years old..."

The crowds suddenly gave the mage a little more space. A few words were heard, but never anything more than a single sentence.

"Glad to see you're already getting along with the place." Allen commented, leading them up the ridiculously big escalator, which was built in proportions for anything but humans.

They arrived on the street, to a starry sky and a moon at least ten time the size it was back on Earth. Nobody knew if it was the same moon and just closer or an entirely differnt one. As far as anyone could remember, it had always been part of the Side just the way it was today.

"We're in Uptown right now." Allen explained, pointing down the street flanked by both modern skyscrapers with bright neon signs - mosty in Japanese or Mandarin here - as well as small, Meiji-era constructs of wood and canvas. This was Chinatown, to put it simply, one of the more upscale parts of the Side. Even the demons and beings of darkness and evil preferred ornately decorated pagodas here instead of the run-down and rotten mausoleums that their western cousins used.

Shops and all other manner of estabilishmnets advertised their presence with bright, blazing, and gaudy neon, covering the street in a plethora of rainbows. They advertised every kind of pleasure known and unknown, and the price was often your soul. Souls weren't lost in the Side - they were sold, bought, traded, and bartered for. Just one of the many elemets of the local economy.

The traffic on the street was just as varied as the crowds on the wide sidewalks, and Allen warned everyone to stay away from it. Not only could people in the Side not drive - well, they could, they just didn't care - but only about half of the things that looked like cars actually were. And many of the impostors were always hungry.

"That's why it's a good idea to stay clear." Allen continued, "And if you do get hurt, never wait for the ambulance. They run on distilled suffering. Very fuel efficent and environmentally friendly, but it's not a good incentive to get your patient to the hospital alive."

All clocks to be seen were steadfastly stuck on precisely 3 AM, not even the second hands flinching any. Three in the morning, the darkest hour, just before dawn - and dawn never came in the Side.

The ground shuddered as a large, 3-legged walker that looked like something taken straight from War of the Worlds stalked over a nearby row of buildings. It stepped on the road, and something that looked like a car screamed pitifully as the tentacle-leg snatched it up and the walker carried the creature away, probably as a snack for under way.

On a nearby corner, an Oni yelled into the crowds loudly, advertising what he had to sell - several suitcases full of all manner of gadgets from alternate timetracks and futures. At the moment, his associate, some sort of snake, was haggling with a customer over a sleek, silver jetpack (fuel not included).

Allen only chuckled. It was likely defective in some manner, otherwise it wouldn't be selling on the street. It was Buyer Beware in the Side, one of the only laws which was never broken.

"Hm, looks prety normal." Allen commented, "I guess we won't find out how Tommy got out just by asking around on the street. You guys wouldn't happen to know the names of any beings from Japanese folklore that could be associated with Zanny, hm?"

If they did, the mentioned beings would likely soon know that they had arrived. Allen Fang had a bad reputation in the Side, and gossip spread faster than the speed of light here. Not only that, but Allen had no doubt that Zanael already had agents lurking in the crowds, watching them, perhaps even assassins waiting for just the right time to strike...

The inside of the train was as spotless as the outside. The trains didn;t like being drity. They had enough junk to put up with.

Din-dun.

"Welcome aboard. My name is Baarthos and I'll be your local train tonight making stops in Death's Door, Crimson Nails, the Side, and Shadows Fall. Please watch for the closing doors."

Din-dun.

With only a slight jerk, the train accelerated away again, but the passengers no longer noticed.

Indeed, there was only one other passenger - a demon looking much like the current form of Toshio, lazily flipping through yesterday's edition of the Night Times, the Side's most-read newspaper - probably because the man who ran it only printed true stories.

ALL BEWARE! SAUNDRA SORROW ON THE LOOSE AGAIN!, read the title page, along with COLLECTOR ANNOUNCES 5000th FIND. IS IT THE REAL MALTESE FALCON THIS TIME?

"Don't worry about him." Allen bade the others not to stare at the demon, "The Side draws all kids of visitors. I'm going to say right now, most of the time you're not going to like what you see if you don't keep an open mind."

The demon grutned and turned the page. A few seconds later, chattering could be heard outside by a million tiny, shrieking, and simply horrid little voices.

"Let us in! Let us in!"

A million screams of pain later and they were gone. Allen smiled. Some just didn't learn. The trains were powerful creatures, protected by even more powerful beings and their defenses. According to an agreement thousands of years old, the trains were inviolate - and whoever thought could break that agreement had always had hell to pay.

Still, that didn't stop some from trying. Somethig large chrashed into the train from the outside, putting a large dent in the metal that was clearly visible as a bulge from the inside. A roar of pain echoed, and the dent began to shrink again, until it was finally gone.

Allen was glad the trains didn't have windows. He really didn't feel like seeing all the worlds they crossed and the creatures that thrived within them.

Din-dun.

"Next stop: the Side. Repeat, next stop: the Side."

Din-dun.

as the train stopped again and the doors slid open, the group stepped into a subway station that looked practically no different from the one they had just left - except for the crows of people milling within it.

The place was alive, this was easy to tell. The crowds contained humans, half-humans, and things that weren't even remotely human. All manner of creatures scampered about their business, not botheing to talk to anyone around them except maybe business partners. Privacy was strictly valued in the Side - you either went about your business quietly, or you didn't go about it at all.

"I'm gonna give you a moment to take this in." Allen said to the others, his eyes seeming to watch all directions at once, "If you need it, anyway. The street's a good bit worse, too, so be prepared..."

"Don't worry." Allen replied with a smile, "I know the train we're taking personally."

They descended into the subway station. It still looked rather respectable, though not in general 'operationg condition'. It was also bereft of any people. They had chosen to meander to more solid and protected areas.

Without a word, Allen walked up to a door labeled EMPLOYEES ONLY in both English and Japanese, and laid his hand on the opaque class that formed the window with the writing on it.

He stopped back again, and with much clicking and clacking, the door opened, freeing the way to a closet-sized room. Its only contents were a mop and a fire extinguiser box with no extinguisher. On box it read: IN CASE OF SCHEDULE CHANGE, TAP GLASS.

Allen did, knocking on the glass three times. A human face appeared in the clear glass, and its eyes immediately grew wide.

"Dear me, not you again!" it gasped, "You stay away from me! I heard what you did to my cousin!"

"I'll tell you later." Allen whispered back th the group, the spoke to the spell again, "I'm informed that the line trains aren't running here anymore. We need one."

"Oh, and I suppose you want first class too?" the face rolled its glass eyes, "Why do you think the line trains aren't coming here? Nobody stops here and they're fed up not carrying anyone. And don't get me started on..."

"Would you just shut up and call us a train?!"

"Oh, fine, fine. Be that way. Just because I'm a spell doesn't mean I don't have feelings, you know..."

With a grumble, the face sank back into the extinguisher box and the glass plate was just a glass plate again. The door slammed shut by itself, and much clicking and clacking was heard as it locked and re-armed its defenses.

A few seconds later, the familiar triple-tone of a train horn roared out from the subway rail and a train came shooting into the station.

But what a train it was! It looked like something taken straight from a Sicence-Fiction novel, a simple silver bullet chain that hovered about an inch off the track. None of the cars had any windows, and only the outlines of the doors could be seen in the seamless silver of the rounded walls.

The doors hissed open, allowing passage inside...

((Just do what I do with Vern, then. Have the mage do stuff that compares well to in-game powers. Makes it a lot easier for other people to undertstand what they're doing.

On a side note, I thought Shinjuku had been secured?

And I'd LOVE a dark/ primary in the dominator set ))

"Agreed." Allen walked toward the portal, "We've got precious little time to waste, so I'm going to go ahead an trust Mr. Diddigo. Oh, but one more thing first..."

He shouted to a trooper over by the Crawler, who quickly popped inside and returned to him with another rifle.

"Thanks." Allen returned, inspected the weapon, and stepped through the gateway...

"Looks like it's settled then." Allen smiled, "Alright. Is the subway station still traversable?"

Before anyone could say something, he held up his hands, "Yes, we are going by subway. Please don't question why - or ask for the reasons why anything is the way it is in the Side. It will drive you nuts if you think about it too much. Literally..."

Allen laughed at this, "Trust me, I've met so many beings that have considered themselves the one true GOD that I don't even remember them all. And no, the Side's fine. If it weren't, your whole planet would be dead - and I mean dead. Not even bacteria left."

He stopped when he saw XANV approach with someone new.

[ QUOTE ]
"...So...Who is everyone?" he said, scratching his horned head. "Like she said, I'm Toshio."

[/ QUOTE ]
"Allen." he introduced himself, shaking the...man's?...demon's?...whatever's hand, and noticed the guy was definetely beyond drunk - and not just by the intense smell of alcohol he emitted.

"And I suppose this is," Allen pointed at the mage with a thumb, "Weir Diddigo or something like that."

"Nice to meet ya." he added to Toshio, then turned back to the rest of the group and the Head Honcho, "Alright, I'll lend you my troops, as I'm going to need to perform a little investigation. Yes, that means I'll be heading to the Side."

After a moment of silence, he continued, "Make no mistake, I'm leaving it entirely up to you if you come with me. In fact, I'll ask that you don't. The Side's a dangerous place, especially for good people. Nothing is what it seems and there's death around every corner - and more often than not, worse..."