One Day Before Round One, Approximately
     Earth Prime, 2100 (or thereabouts)
     Outside the PemDas underground facility

Morning. The sun rose over the mountain range, spilling golden light over the picturesque landscape. The birds chirped in the trees, welcoming the day. And deep inside the local PemDas high security research facility, scientists continued their aspiring attempts to play God.

Some distance away, near the edge of the forest, the air rippled slightly, much like the air over a sunbaked highway. Except for the obvious lack of highways in the area, there was nothing suspicious about this. What was suspicious was that a woman suddenly appeared out of the empty air. She wore casual clothes, boots, shorts and a t-shirt reading "Hard Rock Cafe"; however over it she wore a labcoat, open in front. A strip of white cloth encircled her short, spiky hair. The ripple effect vanished, and she quickly took cover behind a conveniently concealing bush.

"Ah, PemDas Creations," she mused, eyeing the ground-level part of the sprawling complex through a pair of binoculars. "What treasures hold thee behind thine mighty walls? Mayhap dear Replica will find out today." Replica snickered softly and put away the binoculars in a pocket, retrieving a strange bracer instead. "Definitely. Time to loot that piggy bank. And time to test this device too." She placed the bracer around her wrist, and pressed a button. A faint hum was heard for a second, and the scientist literally melted into the background.

It was nine forty-five in the morning. By this time, most warriors would have done fifteen sets of katas, set out to rescue several princesses, defeated the Fat Woman, the Watermelon Cannonball Demon, and the Limbless Master, and made the kingdom safe for commoners over a series of twelve sequels. Most good PemDas employees would have already done several stacks of useless paperwork, compared the cannibalism ratio of the new batch of zombies to the old, and did their share of sucking up to their immediate superiors. Charles being neither a warrior, nor a good employee, was still in bed, and likely would have stayed that way, quietly singing along to an old CD from the 90’s, and enjoying his job security, if some hadn’t been prodding him for the past fifteen minutes. Finally deciding to give in to the fates, Charles slid the headphones off his head, and rolled over in bed to look at the intruder. Misa Kawasaki was standing next to his bed, holding a pile of folded clothes, and smiling sweetly.

"Misa." Charles said, with an even toned voice, as if speaking to a small child, "Did you know that it’s wrong to break into other people’s houses?"

Misa looked down, slightly ashamed. "Well, Charlie-San, I know you don’t like work... "

"So you broke into my dorm, and then stood there, prodded me for a quarter of an hour, to remind me how much I hate working here?"

"No..." The girl gave a look to Charles that said it was silly of him to even think of such a thing. "I broke in and prodded you for a quarter of an hour to remind you that the Imperium Galactica match you’ve been talking about is today."

Charles cursed under his breath. "When’s it start?"

"An hour and fifteen minutes ago."

Charles cursed again.

"I have your clothes, Charlie-San!" Misa grinned, as she tried to cheer him up. Charles took the stack from her, and looked through, nodding in approval. "However you got the key to my closet, you sure have good taste."

He smiled, and began top get out of bed, before realizing something. "I’m... kinda naked. Mind going into the kitchen for a minute?" He gestured towards a part of his dorm that was only separated from the bedroom by a temporary wall Charles had set up, in pursuit of his minimal hygiene requirements.

"I don’t mind watching!" Misa smiled innocently, sitting on the edge of a mostly vacant bedside table, and folded her arms behind her back.

If the laws of his reality had allowed it, Charles would have sweatdropped. "There’s candy in there." Misa bounced happily, slid off the table, and dashed through the hole cut in the temporary wall. Charles kicked off the sheets, picked up the pile of clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. Several minutes later, he reemerged, and looked at himself in a mirror. The clothes worked, and he was planning on wearing his Opposing Force shirt anyways, so he shrugged his lab coat on, and went into the kitchen. In the kitchen, Misa sat on the floor, looking disappointed. "You said there was candy." She pouted, "I wanted candy. All you have are three boxes of Everlasting Discomfort, and some beef ramen." She showed one of the boxes of the permanent headache inducing candy that Charles was trying to build a resistance to.

Charles ignored her complaint, instead taking one of the boxes of Everlasting Discomfort she was holding, and shook out a small candy-coated ball. He popped it in his mouth, and after grimacing for several seconds, spat it out before the long-term effects could take place. "I had candy last week, sorry. I must have forgot that it isn’t last week." While Charles facepalmed from the realization of what he just said, Misa took him by the wrist, and started dragging him outside.

"Well, the car’s outside, and it’s been sitting on it’s air cushion for almost an hour now..." Misa suddenly turned serious, "and if we don’t get to work soon, they’re going to have a field day." Charles got in the passenger’s side of the hover-taxi, and Misa slid in to his left. As they rose into the air, the air cushion dissipated, and taxi sped off towards the Surface Access Elevator.

Just as Replica reached the ground dome, the bracelet emitted a pitiful whine and died, the camouflage shield vanishing. She muttered and took out a notepad from her pocket. "Lazarus shield: Performance meeting expectations, but drains energy too fast." She put away the pad, tossed the drained gadget into her coat, and regarded the curved wall with a piercing look. Like most walls, it didn't return her effort. It was made of reinforced concrete, and was most likely thick enough to repel a minor explosive charge. There was no getting in that way... even if a bigger charge could break through, it would draw unwanted attention.

However, Replica had no reason to resort to such blunt methods. Replica allowed her true perceptions to come to the fore, and observed the reality matrix of the wall. She saw the structure of How Things Were, reached out... and gently PULLED. Reality changed, with reluctance.

With a slight look of concentration on her face, the wall started melting away, bending aside, a circular hole forming and growing larger. When it was large enough, she stepped through into the darkness beyond. As she released control of the wall's matrix, the hole swiftly and mercilessly snapped back to normal.

"I'm in." She grinned ferally, eyes gleaming. "...now, it's party time." With a soft chuckle on her lips, she descended into the depths of the facility.

To call the Surface Access Elevator large would be along the lines of saying breathing is a good thing to do, or that self-dismemberment is not very fun. The SAE has been considered one of the wonders of the modern world, stretching a mile down into the depths of the earth, and transporting thousands of employees a day with surprisingly few deaths. It also sealed off the ground floor off for the day in about five minutes.

"Move, move, move!" Charles yelled at Misa as his lab coat flapped in the breeze. The taxi had run out of fuel several blocks before, and with a silent curse, and realization that he would have to resort to the oldest known form of travel, walking. He checked his watch again as he slipped inside the elevator, held the door for Misa, and pressed he button for the Science level. Misa pressed against him as the elevator rose, he blushed, and shuffled to the side, trying his damnedest to avoid eye contact. This continued on for roughly seventy more floors.

Once again, the science labs are not something to be scoffed at. Spanning an entire floor of the two-mile diameter dome, and employing over a thousand, it was easily the world’s largest private laboratories, with men of science toiling day and night to bring the people an electric toothbrush that scrubs that much faster, games with artificial intelligence that’s that much smarter, and genetically constructed beasts that are just that much more bloodthirsty. Charles walked through the halls, looking for his cube. He fished a map out of his pocket that he had drawn when he was first transferred to Genetic Engineering. Following it through the maze of sixty- four square foot boxes of conformity, he got to his pod. Waiting for him was an intimidating, seven-and-a-half foot tall man, dressed in nearly all black. Charles smiled, and nodded towards the man.

"Cyber! Nice to see you. Got any major problems? Circuits blown? Fragged up mind? Moths in your boards?" Charles went through his standard greeting to the robot. The construct closed its eyes for a second, and a whirring, grinding noise emanated from its head. Soon, it opened its eyes and spoke.

"Negative to all three queries, sir," He said, in a voice deep enough to shake the foundation of a lesser building, "All systems are adequately functioning, battery power is sufficient for current tasks. Report complete." It settled it its original position. After an uncomfortable silence, Charles realized why he came into work.

"Is Imperium Galactica ready?" Charles looked at his workstation, with its screen saver currently showing a picture of Asuka Langley in a heavily modified plug suit, in a position that would have given a lesser man a nosebleed. Cyber nodded, and moved the mouse, showing the main screen of Alpha Centauri. "Close. Not quite." Charles closed it down, and put the game’s disc back in an unmarked case.

"Sir," the robot intoned, "If you don’t mind me saying, the game is almost over, and you would not have a fighting chance. Would you like for me to make some coffee for you?"

"No... I think I’ll do some work, actually." The robot looked shocked. "Well, I gotta give something to society." He took out his map. "Now where’s my Monkopotamus Rex?"

The alarms went off. In the distance, footsteps could be heard approaching. Over the speakers, an angry voice blared "INTRUDER IN SECTOR NINE!"

Replica looked up, nearly dropping the test tube she was holding. "Already?! Damnation!" She stowed the tube away in her chest pocket, when the door opened, and a security guard stepped out. He looked oddly at her and worked his jaw.

"Hooo-ee! Finally get some real-life practice!" He raised his gun and fired at her, nearly clipping her temple.

Replica scowled, clearly not amused. "Gun-toting loser." With a gesture, she sent a ripple in reality through the air, bearing down on the man. He fired at it to no avail, and then it connected with him, throwing him hard into the wall. He crumpled to the ground.

"Well, that was pathetic," she mused. "But I should--" her eyes suddenly caught sight of a jewel case sitting on a desk, looking rather tempting. "Last grabs before closing hours..." She quickly snatched it up and headed for the door. It was time to leave the sinking ship.

Charles walked out of the sealed room, his labcoat stained and ripped, with a weary look on his face. About a half hour in, he had remembered why he never attempted to work. About a half hour and thirty seconds, in, he had remembered that the door locked from the outside. After a monumental battle of wits that would have filled volumes, each of which immediately going to the top of the Reconstructed New York Times best seller list, the beast lay dead on the floor in a spreading pool of it’s own blood. Charles was let out after ten minutes of screaming, and was scolded for the death of his last project. With the light heart caused by knowing that what you have been forced to hear about for the last year and a half is lying in a puddle of it’s own blood, he returned to his cube.

Charles followed his map, looking down at it, and strictly refusing to respond to anything. If he got waylaid, that would mean he may have to work, and that would be a Bad Thing. Suddenly, he felt something knock against him faster than anything had a right to, according to several laws of physics. He tumbled to the ground, and looked behind him, seeing a vaguely feminine form disappearing into a flashing portal. Chalking it off as spending too much time in the hallucinogenic research labs, he brushed himself off, and continued his trek to his pod.

Replica appeared again, this time next to a table in a cafe somewhere... presumably on Earth, judging from the human-like people and blue sky. Deciding that she was safe for the time being, she sat down.

A waiter materialized next to her, smiling and looking expectant. She ordered a cup of tea, and he vanished, only to appear shortly after, placing the cup on the table. Then he vanished once again. Clearly people had access to advanced transportation technology here.

Replica took the cup and leaned back in the chair. She sighed and relaxed, stretching her muscles in a way that piqued the interest of several other guests. "God, I need a vacation. I haven't had a vacation for..." She thought for a few seconds, sipping her tea thoughtfully. "I can't even remember. Months. Years, maybe." She put down the cup and pointed at it; it cracked, spilling tea over the saucer; then the shards seemed to melt and flow, reforming into a small dragon. Then it turned into a cup again. She sighed and poured the tea back into the cup, then took another sip. "A training trip, maybe. I'd definitely need it." She grimaced. "I'm so close... so close to a breakthrough... but where?"

At this point, her musings were interrupted as a loose flyer nearly landed in her face. She snagged the paper out of the air and was about to throw it away, when the text caught her attention.

"Among several thousand appliants," the text read, "YOU have been chosen to be a participant of the greatest interdimensional fighting tournament ever seen this millenium!"

"..." Replica mused. "Interdimensional tournament, hmm?" She continued reading. "Hmm. Hmm. Grand prize: Anything you desire. HMM. Dare I say that this is quite ever so convenient..."

Neurons shot back and forth through her grey matter, and the world paused in its turnings as a decision was about to be made... a decision that could, ultimately, mean certain destruction or certain deliverance of the entire existence.

"Be that as it may, but I need this." She smiled. "And if the other participants are chosen with equal care... they might prove interesting to meet. But how to get there?" She held the paper and thought... and realized that she knew this place, this 'Focal Point', where the tournament would be held. And she knew how to get there. "Such a cheap trick... very well, I'll play along for now."

She smiled and vanished in a burst of bright light. She smiled because this meant new experiences. But she also smiled because she hadn't paid her tab.

The waiter would not be happy.

The Master cut off Charnel's latest report about the new arrivals. He was usually slow to anger, but his voice let it show this time. "Souther... a lot of the entrants are bringing themselves in. HOW, exactly, are they doing that? They shouldn't have a clue about how to get there."

Souther came very close to smiling. "I had to use more approaches than I had informed you about. The simplest method would have been ineffective on many of the likely candidates."

That provoked the suspicious look that Souther often received. "And you didn't tell me because...?"

The outcast actually did smile this time. "As you've said, we have less to lose if we try and fail than if we do nothing. It will never be a completely safe opportunity, so we have to take a few risks."

The Master decided it would be pointless to say that that hadn't answered his question. "...We'll have to hope that none of them do anything too huge to our world's structure."

"Sir," Cyber-Charles intoned as soon as Charles was sitting, "I heard Mr. Forscyth is looking for you. He said something about your project’s termination."

"Hooray." Charles waved his finger in a small circle. "Well, I’m okay as long as I still have Alph-shit." His mind flashed to the person who bumped into him, and his mind’s eye focused on a case she held. His idea was further supported by the game’s absence on his desk. "Well, stall him. I’ll try to escape." Charles grabbed the top of his cube, and tried in vain to swing his leg over.

"Need ten fingers, sir?" The robot made a motion that would have cracked his knuckles if he had that ability.

"Nope, nope, I’m fine." The scientist wheezed out, before dropping to the ground, panting. His boss entered his viewpoint, and smiled demonically.

"Just the man I was looking for! Have a seat." David Forscyth said, motioning to the fallen employee, and then the office chair.

"No, no, I’m fine. I’ll just stay here." Charles started moving on his back towards the cubicle’s door. He was thwarted when his boss sat down and slid the chair in front of the entrance. With a slight frown, Charles got up and leaned on his desk. "What do you want?"

"We need to have a dialogue of the anti-life quotient of your recent projects." David spit this out in a single breath, and waited for the answer.

"Huh?" said Charles.

"He means that, with all due respect sir, after you transferred, you’ve managed to kill every creature you’ve worked on. I think we’re going to be reassigned again." Cyber-Charles groaned.

"The construct has the right idea. The company is transferring you to this." Forscyth dramatically unfurled a poster for the tournament.

Charles took it, and began reading. "You’re sending me to a tournament? Do the people know that I’m coming?"

David replied, "Did Sony know we were coming when we bombed their headquarters last year?"

Charles blinked. "Alright... What about the ‘authors’ part? I haven’t written anything except progress reports and .plan files since high school."

"Covered. We claimed in this reality, you wrote Barnaby Rudge, 1984, and Dave Barry Goes to Japan." David counted the books off one a hand.

"Riiight." Charles’ eyes narrowed. "Anything else you’ve put me down for?" David mumbled about writing the bible, and then followed up with some buzzwords. Charles shrugged. "What’re my objectives?"

"We will insert you using a Slipgate." he said, thrusting out a waiver, "Sign this in case we get you stuck in a wall. After insertion, you will attempt to enter the tournament proper, and afterwards, advance up the tournament’s ranki-"

Cyber-Charles cut him off. "You mean we’re supposed to win? I’ll be damned, meatbag. I though we were just getting a free vacation, since the company was just so nice. What are we to do with the prize? What is the prize?"

"The prize," continued David, not aware that he had been interrupted, "is whatever the winner wants. Rather than waste it on a petty wish of your own, you’ll use it to make sure that the company is an omniversal monopoly. If not, you will be tracked down and captured. Failure is not an option. Understood?"

"Yeah. I get it. I go, try to warp into a solid object, and then win the tournament. Shouldn’t be too hard."

"Are you sure you are able to win, sir?" the android asked, "After all, there may be opponents that are stronger than us. And it would not be enjoyable to scrape a thin red paste off of the floor of you lost."

"I’m sure they have janitors to do that." Charles replied, "Besides, I’m like Riff employed by a megacorp!"

"Riff?" David looked confused.

"I think... No." The automaton pondered.

"Come on! Riff! Sluggy Freelance!" Charles cried out, "Mad scientist! Laser rifle before they were in vogue!" they shook their heads. "You sicken me. Let’s go."

It could be said that the Slipgates were one of the highest causes of insanity among the workers at PemDas. This is untrue. The largest cause is, of course, the lack of free coffee for anyone who has lower than security level nine. The mind-boggling complexity of the slipgates is a close second, though, having to be housed in their own separate dome, with the ability to rip apart the fabric of Space-Time and direct the current to a sister rip, allowing the user to ‘slip’ to anywhere in the Omniverse. It was here that Charles was standing among his friends, waiting for the power generator to charge the gates.

"Charlie-San? Where’re you going? Is it far?" Misa looked up at him with large, shiny eyes.

Charles struggled to explain. "Misa... Do you know what infinity is?" She nodded. "Then raise infinity to the infinite power. And toss in maybe three more infinities. That about covers it."

"Can I come?" she clung to the arm of his new labcoat.

"Umm..." He looked at David who shook his head. Charles made the Universal Motion for a chainsaw, and pointed at Misa. David looked confused, and Charles just shook his head.

Suddenly, the generator roared to life, and reality folded in on itself, much like paper would if it was punched. Charles waved goodbye, and dove through, into the gate, while his mechanical companion walked off the edge, and fell in, holding a cardboard box that a member of the company board had handed to him. The crowd slowly left the area over the next five minutes, except for Misa, who continued to gaze into the rip. As reality started to repair itself, Misa made up her mind. She jumped in, pulling her arms around herself, and fully disappeared just as the rip finished repairing, giving no hint it was ever there.

Sierra by night. A star-lit sky spanned from horizon to horizon, and several moons in various states of eclipse cast a bleak light over the deserted streets. It was a beautiful sight, and it's a pity there were no one around to see.

Traveling by Slipgates will never be very popular. In addition from being ripped from the physical rules and natural orders that one has become used to, and the possibility of spending the rest of your life fused to a wall, it also gives the traveler the unpleasant sensation of being drunk. If you don’t understand this, ask a glass of water.

Another downside is falling on your ass from ten feet up.

The two PemDas representatives quickly found this out, as Charles came out of the sister rip parallel to the ground, and his face ground against the pavement of the alley. His robot hit the ground and the pavement cracked under the weight.

"Sir," Cyber-Charles began his standard sentence, "I have been informed that weapons will be permitted in this tournament. Thusly, I have been given equipment for you to use for a strategic benefit in combat." He put the box on the ground. When Charles peered in, it contained a taser, a pair of power gauntlets, a shield belt with an optional disabling field, time warping, and mini-Slipgate attachments, a PemStapo-style radio, and an access chip for PemDas Compressed Reality Space.

"Wow..." Charles whistled as he secured his equipment on his person, "Big Brother really went all out. Well, let’s sign up, then." They swerved out of the alley and walked down the street.

Replica appeared in a small alley, and took in the surroundings without much interest. "At least it seems they have some civilization..." She left the alley and strode down the street, intent on finding someone in charge of this... tournament. As she did so, she didn't notice Charles and Cyber-Charles walking a short distance behind her.

Charles, however, did notice her, and frowned. "Excuse me, miss?"

Replica stopped, and turned her head. "Hmm? Yes, what do you want?"

Charles looked more pissed than someone from PemStapo, and pointed at her. "You broke into my lab, stole my copy of Alpha Centauri, knocked me down, and now you're almost cute enough to make me forget about Misa-chan! Prepare to be crushed!" He brandished his taser and leapt at her.

"ALMOST cute enough?" Replica said, as she blocked the attack with a wooden peace sign. "You're begging for a beating, my friend!" She concentrated, reaching out for a specially marked reality thread and giving it a tug.

A fridge materialized over Charles' head and nearly flattened him, had he not gotten out of the way. "...the hell?"

Cyber-Charles looked on from the sideline. "Excuse me sir, but do you need any help?"

"No, I can-- OW!" He winced as Replica landed a Phase Kick on his forehead. "Hey, how-- Ouch!" A flurry of extremely fast kicks connected with his head until he managed to block and punch through with a Gauntlet Smash. Replica reeled back, but managed to keep her footing. The two combatants backed apart, assessing the other.

[He's got some power; I'll say that,] Replica thought. [More than I've seen in a while. Question being, how can I use this to my benefit?]

[Wow. She's kinda cute,] Charles thought. [Nice ass, t- No! Must think of Misa! But how the hell can she move that fast without cyberware? She's not ACTING like she's been cybered...]

Out loud, he said, "You're rather impressive."

She raised an eyebrow. "Thank you. I'd admit you have some skill as well. You're here for the tournament, I'd assume?"

"Yes... you too?" He looked thoughtful, and rested his stance. "May I suggest a temporary alliance for our combined prosperity?" He suddenly grinned broadly, puffed out his chest a bit, and added in a cocky voice, "Anyone who could stand against a veritable physical and intellectual powerhouse such as I, must be strong enough to be my teammate!"

Replica dropped out of her stance as well, and gave him a measuring look over. "An alliance? And why would I require anything like such?"

"Come on..." He grinned. "...everyone needs someone to back them up. I've got my pal over there," he indicated Cyber-Charles, "but you're alone. And we're both pretty green around here, am I right?"

She smiled, and allowed a soft chuckle to escape her lips. "Heh. I guess you have a point, Mr...?"

"Charles. Charles Boucher," he held out his hand, "but you can call me Charles, miss...?"

"Replica. You have a deal, Charles." She shook his hand. [Perfect, just perfect. This is almost too simple.]

Something heavy tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around to see the robotic creation towering over her. "I'm Cyber-Charles." He extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, meatbag."

She narrowed her eyes, and then shook his hand as well. "Likewise."

"So..." Charles said, "...can I have my game back?"

Replica raised her eyebrows. "What game?"

"The copy of Alpha Centauri that you STOLE this morning," Charles clarified.

"You better oblige him," Cyber-Charles interjected. "He gets ornery when he doesn't get his fix, if you know what I mean."

"You know, you did look familiar somehow," Replica replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. She fished the case out of one of her pockets. "Is this it, maybe?"

Charles' eyes literally lit up at the sight of the prized software. "Yes! That's it!" He tried to grab it, but she pulled it out of his reach.

"Like it a lot, do you?" She grinned broadly. "Hmm?"

"Yes..." He frowned. "Now give it to me." He made another lunge, but she gracefully danced out of the way.

"Ah-ah," she goaded, "not yet, not yet. Tell you what..." She pointed at a tall building at the end of the street. "...race you over there!" Without waiting for a response, she turned and sprinted down the street.

"Why, that... that..." Charles growled and ran after her.

"Humans..." Cyber-Charles shook his head, and ambled after them. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em..."

Soon, Misa appeared in the same alley that the dynamic scientific duo had left two minutes previous. As she walked out, she saw Replica about to challenge Charles to a race, and scowled. "That... that...busu oban... running off with Charlie-Chan... I’d better follow him before he does anything stupid with that harlot!" She walked quietly in the shadows, her military instincts helping her keep her footsteps silent, and eventually she caught up with the pair. She saw the object of her obsession panting, and Replica with a quietly happy look on her face. Whatever the girl had done to Charlie-Chan, Misa didn’t like it. "She’s going down..." Misa growled as she took her Ash-Style chainsaw and attached it to her hand.

"*Sigh* So nice with some exercise," Replica exclaimed, stretching her arms a bit. They were now standing under the sole illumination of a streetlight; except for the building behind them, everything outside the pool of pale light was covered in shadows. "Don't you think so too, Charles?"

"No," Charles laconically said. Pausing for a while to let his heartbeat return to normal, he added, "Now give me my game back."

"What game?" She made an impish face.

"Don't you start..."

"Aww... did I upset you now?" she cooed, and crept up close next to him, trapping him against the wall. "Now how could I make you up for that...?"

Charles promptly turned an interesting shade of red.

"Sir," Cyber-Charles said, catching up. "You are changing colors. Is this an ability I've been hitherto unaware of, or do you require medical aid?"

Replica laughed softly and backed away from the blushing scientist. "Silly boys. I'm just having some fun with you." She looked around. "Now, partner, shouldn't we sign up or something?"

"I suppose..." Charles said dubiously. "I don't really know how this is organized..."

"You don't need to," a voice said from the shadows. Stepping out into the light, the speaker, a nondescript man in a white coverall, continued, "That's our job. Follow me, please."

"Let's do this in an orderly manner," the white-clad official said. "Names?"

"Charles Boucher," Charles stated.

Replica broke her scrutinization of the room. "Replica," she stated laconically.

"Just Replica?" the official asked, writing down the names.

"Yes."

"Nothing else?"

"NO."

"My name is Cyber-Charles," Cyber-Charles offered.

The man looked the automation over. "Are you on their team?"

"Well, not really," Cyber-Charles started, "But I believe-"

"Then be quiet." He turned to another page. "Right. Team name?"

"Pardon?" Replica asked.

"You need a team name to represent you. Preferrably something inspiring."

The two fighters thought for a few seconds. Finally, Replica shook her head. "I'm at a loss."

Charles scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I have an idea... but first I need to know, Replica... are you a scientist?"

Replica smiled. "How observant of you. Yes, I do indulge in research. It's fascinating, don't you think?"

"That can be questioned..." he muttered. Louder, he said, "What do you say about 'Science and Technology'?"

"Hmm." She tapped her chin, contemplating the offer. "Simple, yet elegant. Like me. It's perfect."

"Science and Technology it is." The official wrote it down. Perhaps, he thought, just perhaps this team wouldn't make such a big fuss as that other one... "That's all we need to know for now. If you'll follow the man outside the door to find your lodgings..." He paused, and added, "Just one thing. Except during fights, which are held in various other dimensions due to... marketing potential, no one is allowed to leave the Sportsplex until the end of the tournament."

Replica frowned. "I dislike having my flexibility limited. I'm used to coming and going as I please."

"If you leave in any way, you will be disqualified." Noticing her dark look, the official explained, "It's to prevent thefts and such. The facility contains a fair number of devices and products that have been provided for your convenience, but which we'd rather see didn't vanish and turn up in some other world. You do understand the situation, right?"

The grin on Replica's face confirmed that, yes, she did indeed understand EVERYTHING. "Yes, indeed."

Of course, some fuss was made after all.

"No," Replica said.

"Something wrong with the room?" the white-clad employee said.

"There's just one of it," she explained.

"You expected a suite?"

"No, no..." Charles explained. "We want private rooms."

"Most of the other teams didn't mind..." the employee started.

"We just met," Replica explained. "I want some privacy." She suddenly winked at Charles and added, "For now, at least."

Charles gulped nervously.

"All right, I suppose another room is possible. After all," the man added, "we do have more than enough lodgings. It's finding the furniture that is the tricky bit." He cast a glance at Cyber-Charles. "But your artificial friend will have to stay in your room, mister."

Cyber-Charles nodded approvingly. "That would be for the best."

"Right." The man made some notes on his pad, before putting it away. "I think there's an acceptable room further down the hall. If you'll follow me, please?"

"I'll see you in the morning, Charles," Replica said, opening her door. "We need to discuss our strategy. Good night then, gentlemen."

Without waiting for a reply, she closed the door. Well, looks like the organisation of the place is good, at least. The room she had received was rather spartan, but it was good enough for her needs.

"Time to familiarise myself with this place..." She walked over to the window, opened it, and climbed out.

Then she fell.

Replica fell down the side of the several stories tall building, and landed with a soft thud. Wasting no time, she sprang into the air again, easily scaling half of the opposing building and landing on a ledge, then leaping off and against the first building, then kicking off the side on the top floor, the force sending her spinning across the cityscape of the Sportsplex.

When the laws of physics are rendered not much more than guidelines, you can allow yourself a few tricks.

Somersaulting twice, she landed on a rooftop as softly as if had she leapt off a chair. She closed her eyes and concentrated; the concrete floor around her started to move and wave like water, and then grew wilder, forming a circle of thrashing waves around a small island of solidity. Suddenly her eyes snapped open, and the concrete waves fell back instantaneously. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she focused again. An aura of unreality formed around her, turning pale colors as air molecules were cruelly torn apart, the ground sizzling under her boots. With loud resounding crashes, the air around her seemed to shatter like great panes of almost-invisible glass. Sparks flew as repercussions were sent across the web of reality.

Then it stopped. Replica panted a bit, not so much from physical exertion as from mental, and rubbed her forehead. Then she smiled. "I LIKE this place. So vibrant."

She shook out a few creases on her coat as she walked over to the edge of the roof, and looked out over the Sportsplex. More buildings than she cared to count laid before her, with various arenas dotted over the place. "Maybe they held sports events here?" She mused. "They did call it the Sportsplex, so..." She shook her head. Most of the buildings appeared to be unoccupied... she hadn't seen a single person since leaving her room. Maybe the only people living here were those whiteclad ones, and the other fighters? "Yes, the others..." She sat down on the edge with the air of one who lost her fear of heights ages ago, and dangled her legs. "What people will I face? Will they be on level with me? Likely, or so one would assume from Charles." She smiled at the thought of her unexpected team mate; with some luck he'd be good enough to help her win this tournament.

But as for the others... they would likely not be mundane, ordinary people. Anything but. "I shall meet them tomorrow, yes..." She got to her feet and walked away from the edge. "But if I'm going to stay here for a longer period..." She walked to the center of the roof, and closed her eyes, focusing her mind on a very special task. She reached out with her immaterial hands...

A few seconds later, she opened her eyes again, and looked up at the sky. Icarus, the largest moon, shone brightly by itself among a sea of stars; the other moons had already rushed below the horizon. Not a sound could be heard, but suddenly, a winged silhouette appeared over Icarus' surface. It grew until it completely eclipsed the moon, and within moments, it had gone from a shadow to a visible shape. The mighty dragon, with golden scales covering its powerful winged frame, opened its maw, and a loud roar echoed across the cityscape. Circling once, twice, it landed gracefully.

Replica stood perfectly still as the reptilian visage turned its gaze upon her, eyes far older than herself scrutinizing her intensively. Speaking not a word comprehensible by any mere human, the dragon held up one of its claws in front of the woman. Without hesitation, she put her right hand against it.

The dragon let out a loud, contented sigh, and let its head rest on the ground, as it lowered the claw again. Replica sat down next to its curled neck. If they said anything, it was not in any speech known to mere man.

The conversation lasted a long time.

Meanwhile, Charles sat in his room, thumbing through his copy of Don’t Whistle While You’re Pissing when he heard a knock at the door. Cyber-Charles was in his corner, composing haiku at a computer mounted in the wall, and Replica wouldn’t be seeing him until the morning. Marking his place with a red piece of fabric with the Sacred Chao embossed in gold on the top, he closed the book and set it on his nightstand. He summoned his taser from PDCRS, and remembering some of the unforeseen consequences that had overtaken earlier PemDas Omninauts, he took a clove of garlic from the small refrigerator in the kitchenette, and his Sacred Chao necklace from the nightstand next to the book. He crept up to the door, and brought it about an eighth of the way open, letting inertia do the rest of the job. As soon as he began to see a figure, he thrust the garlic out, and screamed. "Back! Back, foul creature of the night! The power of the Goddess compels you!"

"Ano...I’m not really foul, am I, Charlie-San?" a sweet voice came from the hall.

"At least you knocked this time... Come on in, Misa." Charles sighed. Disobeying company orders, abuse of equipment, fraternizing with an intruder... he noted the PDCRS access holster on Misa’s back... with added theft to the charges. Someone was going to get sent to a joy camp in Taiwan to manufacture vacuum tubes for the rest of their lives after this fiasco was over, regardless of whether he won the tournament. "You’re not foul... I just thought that you might be something hostile that inhabits this reality." He walked over to his bed and sat on the end, and Misa took a spot at his side. Charles was too tired to do anything, so he let it pass. "How’d you get here anyways?" he asked, remembering David refusal to give her access.

"Slipgates stay open afterwards, Charlie-San. I thought you knew that. I went through to make sure you stay safe." She hugged his arm at this point, with him more or less acquiescent. "Oh, and another thing..." Her voice lowered, and the temperature dropped several degrees in the room. "Who was that little slut you were with?"

"Erm?" Charles voice was getting slurred, with what was quite possibly the strangest day in his life beginning to take its toll on him. "Ohh... Replica. She’s a nice girl. Bit odd. Aren’t we all?" He let out a weak laugh. "Still, she can fight, and she may be our only ticket for freedom if I fight like I think I do..." Misa sat there, slowly soaking it up. The compliments were minor, and strictly practical, but still, there were compliments. Just as Misa began to stew, Charles muttered one last thing. "She still ain’t as cute as you, though..." With this, Charles pulled off his labcoat by a sleeve, and threw it onto a chair, and did the same for his shirt, before crawled back up the bed, and under the sheets.

Misa smiled as she heard this, and after a second’s thought, peeled off her shorts and tank top, threw them on a different chair, crawled under the sheets, and wrapped her arms around Charles.

"Sweet Eris in a motorized claw foot bathtub racing Jesus Christ on a tricycle across the post-nuclear remains of Europe!" That was an expression Charles rarely got to use. In fact, this was his first time he ever said it, despite having saved it for upwards of fifteen years. For him at least, going to sleep alone, and waking up in the arms of a beautiful, scantily clad woman was more than a bit unusual. With this is mind, it is perfectly reasonable that he had jumped out of bed, took a t-shirt out of PDCRS, and was standing at the door within a span of two seconds. "Just what the hell, exactly, was that?"

"She took off more than half of her clothes, got into your bed, and-" Cyber-Charles monotoned from the computer station where had had been sitting all night.

"I could tell that." Charles interrupted flatly "I was asking her."

"Did I do something wrong, Charlie-San?" Misa asked, pulling a sheet up to her chest, and blinking cutely.

"Yes! No... Maybe." Charles flip-flopped, and then decided on one thing. "I need a drink. A stiff drink." Charles pulled the t-shirt over his head, this one having the Smashing Pumpkins ‘World is a Vampire’ logo on the front.

"Wait!" Misa yelled after him, as he was about to close the door. "Where’ll I sleep, Charlie-San?"

That’s right, Charles thought, she isn’t registered as a fighter... "Well," he said, "You can sleep here." Misa smiled. "You get the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch or something." With this, Charles hung his aforementioned necklace around his neck, and looked over his shoulder. "I’ll see you two later." He opened the door, and went out to the streets of the Focal Point, looking for a place to get smashed.

‘Free Drinks’ is a call no red blooded American male can resist. When he heard the call coming from a bar down the street from where he was wandering, Charles’ wired reflexes kicked into effect, manipulating his muscles in ways that increased his speed to a level no normal man should be allowed to have. Street signs bent slightly in his draft, and as he got to the entrance of the bar, the aardvark-ish creature, along with a tech in a labcoat at the door fell down again just as they began to stagger to their feet. The Cyberware snapped itself off as he skidded on his heels next to a barstool several seats away from a trio of rowdy Koreans. As he sat down, a bartender approached him.

"Hey there." The man introduced himself, "I’m Saul. You look down." Charles nodded. "Woman troubles?" The bio-technician nodded again. "I don’t deal with that. Let me get Jack over here."

Another bartender walked towards Charles. "Hey there. I’m Jack. You look down. Woman troubles?"

Charles nodded again. "This girl... woman... little of both... Well, anyways, she’s just... creeping me out a bit... or actually, a lot. That’s all."

Jack smiled knowingly, and looked Charles in the eyes. "Well, then. What’re you going to do about that?"

"I was planning on getting blind drunk, and hoping I’d forget it ever happened really." Charles thought for a second. "By the way, Roentgen Rum." The scientist took the bottle of radioactive hard liquor the bartender offered, and took a large swig from the bottle. A thoughtful look passed over his face. "I guess that wouldn’t work... I think I have to face the Reaper."

Jack nodded. "Just what I was thinking." he pointed at the Roentgen Rum, "You want that for the road?"

"No... I’m set." Charles drank the rest of the bottle in one gulp, and headed out the door for the fighter’s hotel, swaggering the swagger of a man who never could hold his alcohol.

Charles cracked open the door to his room. "Umm... Misa? Misa?" Charles walked into the room, only to be greeted by the large form of Cyber-Charles at his terminal.

"She went away to get a good seat for our fight." The robot said flatly. "The venue sounds real nice, too... the Carnival of Despair. Should we leave now, Sir?"

"What the hell." Charles shrugged. "Let’s go. Get this over with." A slight static charge brought several strands of his hair into the air as his force field activated. Next came a slight distortion in the wall, growing into a massive, paradox-inducing space-time flaw as reality was ripped, forming a Slipgate to their next destination. The pair stepped into the tear in space-time, and disappeared from the Focal Point, just as the roar of the crowd, the excited patter of the broadcast announcers, the smell of cheap carnival snacks, the strange, wet, stickiness of the floor, and a amusing yet horrifying selection of freaks welcomed them to the Carnival of Despair.

Replica slowly returned to consciousness. How long had she been sleeping? On the horizon, the sun was about to rise. A particularily encyclopedic part of her brain commented that few life forms achieved any semblance of development towards advanced society on worlds with more than one sun; as such, it would be reasonable to assume that this world held only one such astronomical body; furthermore it was logically used to set the basic day/night rythm... meaning that it was morning. She quieted the ranting part of her mind before it got started on something big.

She extracted herself from the dragon's side and rose to her feet. She promptly regretted it. "Ah, stiffness. I really shouldn't sleep outdoors." She stretched a bit, rubbing some life into her limbs again. "And I wonder how dearest Charles and his friend feels this morning?"

Offering a brief farewell to the still-sleeping dragon, she leapt off the roof, landing on the street and taking off at full tilt.

Arriving on her floor, she almost managed to catch one of the white-clad technicians by surprise. Charnel, who had been posed to knock on her door, smiled incincerely. "Ah. The second member of Science & Technology. I am to inform you that your first fight is starting any minute now."

"Aww..." She pouted a bit. "And here I wanted to talk a bit with Charles. I suppose it'll have to wait."

"Yes..." Charnel made a show of looking at his pad. "Your partner, one Charles Boucher, has already left for the Carnival of Despair, the location of the match."

[Carnival of Despair?] Replica thought, an amused smile on her lips. [Beautiful memories. I was meaning to revisit... I wonder if Dante is still around?]

Charnel tapped the pad thoughtfully. "I suppose you can handle the transportation?"

"Yes..." Replica concentrated for a brief moment. *There*. Not exactly remembering the location, but retrieving it from somewhere in a similar fashion, she locked her mind on that particular reality. The reality matrix around her twisted, bent and tore, until a critical point had been reached... "Bye, dear." ...and then it snapped closed around her, figuratively and literally throwing her across the face of the multiverse towards her destination.

For Charnel, it looked as if she just vanished in a flash of light. Which just goes to show that the participant has more fun. He shook his head. "If we had an ounce of that power..."