<span style="font-weight: bold">Infiltration Team</span><br/><br/>Geirhald shifted uncomfortably in his new mist form. “Hrm…” he grumbled, a distant rumble of thunder. “This…form…too…wet…”<br/><br/>Haley, however, was unimpressed. “Wow. I get to be double-invisible. I think there’s a joke in there somewhere.”<br/><br/>“There’s a couple,” Dorian agreed. “But they’re either all misogynistic or…dirty.”<br/><br/>“Aren’t you like twelve?” When Dorian didn’t answer, she gave Izaak an approving nod, then said, “Don’t worry, Geirhald, we won’t be in this form long.” She mounted up and Geirhald did the same.<br/><br/>“Ride!” The ethereal Storm Rider shouted and sped off, with Haley and Dorian following suit.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Interference</span><br/><br/>Corn missiles and howitzer bullets collided in midair, creating the strangest explosions of popcorn that rained over the ruined city. But don’t eat the popcorn – it tastes like gunpowder. Oh, you’re going to anyway? You haven’t have food in days? Well, that isn’t my problem now, is it? I said don’t eat it!<br/><br/>But all that did was distract Lionel from the clock tower collapsing on top of him. Remember that? Stratus did that a few posts ago. Well whatever. It finally completed its fall. And as it did so, the first checkpoint arch pinged.<br/><br/>“CHECKPOINT BOSS #1 DEFEATED. CHECKPOINT SYSTEM REACTIVE.”<br/><br/>Vespi threw her bowl of popcorn at the Dayman. “Later, nerds!” And sped off.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Villains Team</span><br/><br/>Horror finished the last bite of old rat meat in his disgusting salad and signaled for the check, only then noticing that the Nightman and Sark had abandoned him. The obsidian portal was still active, however, although hideous tentacled things were starting to crawl out of it. Deciding he wanted nothing to do with that noise, Horror summoned his puke-zombie minion.<br/><br/>“Yes, master?” The man was covered in blood, feather, and owl pellets.<br/><br/>“We’re joining my companions wherever they’ve gone to.”<br/><br/>“Of course.”<br/><br/>“Say…what’s your name anyway?”<br/><br/>“Nicodemo – “<br/><br/>“I’m going to call you Slagathor.”<br/><br/>“As you say, master.”<br/><br/>Horror and Slagathor circled the nether portal suspiciously. “Hm. They clearly went through here, but I don’t much fancy the idea of journeying among the many-angled ones…” Suddenly he seized Slagathor by the shoulder. “But you, my expendable minion, are just worthless enough to send you off through the outer regions and forge a new path for me to my companions!” Then he hurled Slagathor into the growing space/time rift. The rift promptly sealed up with a sick burping sound.<br/><br/>“I’ll have to inform the Nightman of his portals propensity for extradimensional ruptures. But until then, how to get to them…” And just like that, Horror was whisked away from the Whooters…<br/><br/>…to right beside the Nightman and Sark. “I see. It appears I can teleport at will now.” Frowning, he noticed that both the Nightman and Sark in their Zoid and chariot. “Oh, we’re doing vehicles now? Excuse me a moment.”<br/><br/>Horror teleported away…and back in just a few seconds (although he likely experienced something like hours wherever he went) sporting a slurping, burbling, quivering mass of flesh, bladders, tentacles and eyes. “I journeyed to the nether regions,” he explained. “And wrangled me a skin-render.” He lounged atop the…thing…sipping some sort of beverage and awaited further instructions.