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Miku "Elizabeth" Risso

"Comets are like cats: they have tails, and they do precisely what they want."

0 · 1,459 views · located in Earth

a character in “Katekyō Hitman REB0RN!: The Next Generation”, originally authored by Miyer, as played by Damioa


Rizzo Guardian of the Comet

Miku "Elizabeth" Rizzo


❝Comets are like cats: they have tails, and they do precisely what they want.❞

Comet | Bouncing Souls

❋ Full name ❋
Miku Rizzo

❋ Nickname ❋
Lizzy || MiMi

❋ Alias ❋

❋ Age ❋

❋ Gender ❋

❋ Sexuality ❋

❋Box weapon ❋
Touketsu Ite ~ A giant black barrel cannon which seems to defy gravity and any law of physics. The weapon is rapid fire and shots 2 different types of bullets which all have different effects. "Comet" is a pale blue beam which is released from the barrel and does extreme damage though it takes a while to reload; "Freeze" are sets of large ice cubes that are fired rapidly and cause ice explosions on impact.

❋Flame type ❋
Comet ~ Freezing the heat of another and creating a cold that burns. The Comet moves silently through the void of space, observing the space places in between on her never ending journey. Miku follows the path set by the comet, alone and cold, she travels the void in search of something that can't be found, forever moving. Inspiring Awe and inspiration in most who don't understand her beauty, don't see the frozen tears that litter her trail as she moves by, untouchable by those who don't understand.

❋ Abilities ❋
Miku's main offensive abilities consist of the fact that she has the ability to freeze a person on contact. The ice is different from normal ice and can not be melted or stop by heat and will hold firm, though the qualities of the ice can be altered by Miku is she so desires. The main two problems with this ability is the fact that Miku needs to be in close range to use it and secondly, the ability can't be turned off. If someone makes physical contact with her, they will freeze.

Miku also has a secondary ability which allows her to move up to 100mph without problems, sadly this can not be used in close combat as it requires her to gain speed and is only used for long distance travel. This is known as her comet ability and she often uses it for travel as well as in fights.

Miku's finally ability is that of appearance alteration, though she is only able to change her appearance to Elizabeth. Miku often uses Elizabeth's appearance to fight so that she may be able to live a normal life when being Miku.

❋ Height & Weight ❋
5'4 & 91lbs

❋ Hair color/Length/Quality ❋
Miku ~ Short, Choppy black hair which is often worn in two high pig tails with a messy fringe which falls into her eyes.

Elizabeth ~ Long, sleek black hair which is also worn in pig tails

❋ Eye color ❋
Both Miku and Elizabeth have incredibly blue eyes which can be quite mesmerizing when you first see them, though Elizabeth's eyes actually glow and on occasion, her right eye seems to encase itself in blue flames.

❋ Distinguishable Facial Features ❋
Miku has no obvious facial features that she can speak of. Elizabeth doesn't either.

❋ Birthmarks/Scars/Tattoos/Piercings ❋
Miku's skin is surprisingly unblemished and she has no scars nor birthmarks. She has a normal set of ear piercings and no tattoos.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, is much different. Though she also has no brithmarks, her arms, backs and stomach are littered with small and big scars from her many fights, though all her scars are normally covered and none are actually deforming. She doesn't have that many piercings, Quite a few random piercings in both her ears as well as a belly button piercing, but thats it. As for Tattoos, she has only one. A small comet like tattoo on the back of her neck which she uses as a reminder.

❋ Physical Description ❋
Miku ~ Miku is a somewhat short girl who often is seen wearing her short, choppy hair in two high pigtails on either side of her head. She has royal blue eyes which can be pretty eyecatching as well as a lightly tanned completion and petite form. She often just wears her school uniform as that is the only real time that Miku uses her original form. After school she becomes Elizabeth as that form gives her more confidence in herself.

Elizabeth ~ Elizabeth is also small with a petite form though her's is more full of subtle lean muscle, her complexion is also much more pale then Miku. Like Miku, she has beautiful blue eyes, though her own have a glowing quality to them and sometimes her right eye will light itself with a blue fire and look similar to a comet. Her long, smooth black hair is also tied in two pigtails on her head, though they sit lower the Miku's.
Elizabeth is often seen wearing a set of black short, a black bikini top and a black and white trench coat which she somtimes wears with the hood up.

❋ Techniques ❋
Everything Elizabeth does in a fight is already timed and practiced. She doesn't do anything that she isn't confident about. Elizabeth is able to adapt her method of attack effectively to defeat her opponent and it is very rare that she is beaten by her opponent as it normally only takes her a few attacks before she is able to adapt and figure out her best method of defense/offense to defeat them

❋ Personality ❋
Miku ~ Cheerful ~ Childish ~ Easily distracted ~ Playful
Miku is bascially the same as any other hyperactive, slightly childish, kid in her school. She has friends who she likes hanging with and places she loves to go to after school. Miku is alway happy-go-lucky with a cheerfulness that many people find extremely contagious; She can often be found smiling or laughing and it is a rare sight indeed to see so much as a frown and no one has ever seen a tear before; Miku is just always happy, all the time... Though thats not really possible...
She can also be quite childish... Or at least, many people view her as childish due to the fact that she gets excited easily and is often distracted randomly, not being able to pay attention at all and always getting bored easily. The fact is that Miku actually acts more her age then other do. At 16, Miku is still a 'Child' and doesn't see the point in trying to be grown up when she will have the rest of her life to do that. She is simply happy living in the here and now and not bothering with how others believe she should act. She is in no rush to grow up and if that makes her childish, then that is their problem.
Finally, Miku is also bizarrely playful. Now, this may not seem so weird for someone who is perceived as extremely childish, But Miku is playful in all sense of the word. Not only does she like to play games and mess around almost like a kid, but she is also quite playful and flirty with those of the opposite sex which is pretty weird for someone who doesn't exactly want to grow up fast.

Elizabeth ~ Emotionless ~ Intelligent ~ Strategical ~ Cool under pressure
Elizabeth is basically the exact opposite of Miku. Elizabeth is basically the person Miku wishes she could be, which is actually surprising considering the fact that Elizabeth actually has lots of flaws, especially when it comes to socializing, Miku's favorite activity. Elizabeth takes a much more distant and cold approach when it comes to other people and is generally quite awkward to talk to as she has a tendency to ignore you in favor of something else. You could almost say she is shy but that doesn't really fit the bill, she is more of an introvert...
Elizabeth also has a intelligent mind that is able to come up with good strategies with relative ease and this often helps her in fights as well as escaping situations she does not like or has no control over. She prefers intelligent conversation to stupid small talk and honestly doesn't see the point in someone coming to talk to her if they are just going to make stupid and forgettable comments.
Finally, when it comes to any situation, Elizabeth is always cool under pressure. She always knows what she is doing as well as always having a Plan b, c, d, e, f, and g; and if all of those fail, she is still able to make up plans on the spot easily. She always seems to know what to do in any situation and can use an item to her required needs and this is because she also has a high survival instinct. When Miku becomes Elizabeth, her will to survive increases drastically and she is willing to fight, not letting herself die though sheer will alone.

[Likes] [Dislikes]
o Friends School x
o Socializing Homework x
o Playing Games Spiders x

[Likes] [Dislikes]
o Silence Distractions x
o Fighting Crowds x
o Flying Staring x


❋ Romantic Interest ❋
Don... Well at least Miku has a crush on him... Elizabeth isn't getting involved... Like usual.

❋ Family ❋
Father || Lorenzo Rizzo || 45 || Head of Family
Mother || Melony Rizzo || 38 || Wife of the Head
Older Brother || Natasuki Rizzo || 19 || Appearance || Disowned
Older Brother ||Alastor Rizzo || 17 || Heir to Rizzo Family
Younger Sister || Ami Rizzo || 13 || Appearance
Younger Brother || Trevor Rizzo || 12 || Not Known
Younger Brother || Kafu Rizzo || 10 || Appearance
Youngest Sister || Yuki Rizzo || 5 || Appearance

❋ History ❋
Miku was born third eldest to the Rizzo family and consequently the second heir to the family. Miku never really expected that life, however, and she never thought to prepare herself for it considering the fact that her eldest brother was the heir before he was disowned due to him running away with a girl from a rival family.

Miku had an incredablily easy and carefree childhood where she would spend most of her time exploring and hanging out with the child in the village which she spent most of her young life with her mother as well as Natasuki, Ami and Kafu. Miku had long moved out to the main house when Yuki had been born, though she did often return to visit her youngest sister.

When Miku reached the age of 10, she was taken from her mothers house in the country to live with her father in the Rizzo family's main house where she would receive private education along with Natasuki, the only other of her siblings to have left her mothers house. Miku didn't exactly mind private education, though she did miss friendly interaction with others of her age group and often found herself feeling very bored and lonely in the mansion of the Rizzo family main house. Her brother was always busy learning how to become the next heir, though he did come and play with her every now and then, and all the servants were often cold and impersonal, though polite, when talking to her. Miku needed to get out and start talking to other people or she might just go insane.

It was another 2 years before Miku finally convinced her father to allow her to attend Middle school in the local area. However, by this stage the damage had been done and 'Elizabeth' had already become another voice in Miku's head who she considered her best friend above all else. When Miku entered middle school and made many friends once more, Elizabeth's voice inside Miku's head went away for a time.

When Miku entered High School, It was the first time Miku felt bullying and the unkindness of others around her. She was slowly pushed out until it came to her and just two friends. Elizabeth came back and slowly but surely, gained more influence in the young girls life until Elizabeth had once again gained the title of Miku's best friend. When the time came that Miku turned 16, Elizabeth ordered her to climb to the top of her school roof on the eve of her birthday, and wait for the twelfth hour. Miku did this without hesitation, and when the twelfth hour came, Miku saw what appeared to be a shooting star, except it didn't fade and just kept coming towards her. She wanted to run, but Elizabeth told her not to.

The 'Shooting star' crashed against the roof right before the young girl, but she never flinched. Reaching out, Miku touched the small, blue ball on Elizabeths orders, pulling back slightly as she realized the icy touch, a comet, not a shooting star. With another coaxing, Miku picked up the small orb and watched as it began to glow, ribbons of cool blue light wrapping around her. She remember pain and possibly screaming but then there was nothing. Nothing except for her and Elizabeth staring at each other.

"Time to become the Comet Miku.", was the only words Elizabeth said as she stared down at the young girl. Elizabeth had been waiting patiently for the time for the young girl to come of age and that she may finally reclaim her rightful place of the guardian of the Comet. Miku had a great role to play in an even greater plan and it would be Elizabeth that showed her the way.

So begins...

Miku "Elizabeth" Risso's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola
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Alastor puckered his lips, forcing the cool evening air through his teeth thusly pursed. Instantly, a melodious tune filled the area around him, drowning out the crickets that, to him, were chirping in honor of his immense glory and unbridled resplendence. He continued to whistle some upbeat tune as he lay relaxed on his back, his hands behind his head, acting as a makeshift pillow.

As he sucked in air through his nose, an all-too-familiar scent saturated his olfactories. At first, the smell was sweet. Cloying even, like an overly ripe fruit. Under the smell's saccharine visage, however, was an overbearing metallic stink that mercilessly jabbed at his nose like a skewer, causing him to crinkle his nostrils every now and then.

Alastor opened his eyes, looking up at the sky above him and the infinite blackness of the space beyond it. The stars, innumerable and indescribable in their beauty, twinkling in the sky. The moon, centerpiece of the night sky, as mellow and calm as it was luminous. A lonely comet hurdled by in the far distance, leaving a thin white streak in its wake—or was it an asteroid? Alastor scoffed, using his arms to push himself up to a sitting position. He was never sure of such things.

The act of making himself vertical forced him to cease his whistling, which somehow made the smell that'd pervaded the air that much worse. Looking around, Alastor noted the source of the coppery scent.


It was sort of everywhere, though Alastor certainly couldn't be blamed for that. These Vongola mafioso had decided to resist, and resistance always ended sloppily where he was concerned.

He sighed, replaying events in his head. He asked them politely if this was the location of the Vongola's Namimori headquarters. They told him he "wasn't allowed on the roof" or whatever and pulled guns on him. Blah blah blah, he snapped his fingers, bang bang bang. And now they're all dead.

"Totally not my fault," he said aloud to the closest corpse. The poor man or woman wasn't even recognizable as a human corpse anymore—more like a spattering of meat and expensive fabrics across the floor. Alastor poked at the gooey remains with the toe of his expensive black dress shoe, dying its anterior a dark crimson. Continuing to look around, he noted the positions of the other former Vongolas. Two others, to be precise.

They resembled flies splattered across a windshield. Their skulls were crushed in, their limbs embedded into the wall at odd angles, blood dripping from their assorted remains, pooling below them like a leaky faucet. Alastor smirked. Looked like a truck smashed them into the wall going a hundred miles an hour. Couldn't have been all that pleasant a ride, either.

Oh well.

Alastor leaned backwards, resting his head against the cool metal structure that jutted out of the ground at his back, his stringy black hair in stark contrast with its sterile hospital-white surface. It was tall, perhaps six or seven feet in height, and became thinner the closer you got to its center. Honestly, it looked awkward and foreign jutting out of the lightly variegated rooftop as it was, like some sort of alien space needle. It wasn't hard to imagine that it didn't belong there, or anywhere in this time period for that matter. If you listened carefully, you could hear a metronomic ticking coming from the tower, in tune with the sways and rhythm of time itself.

The Rizzo leader was extremely fatigued after having brought his team all the way over here just an hour or so prior. He could barely keep his eyes open, and switching positions seemed to have burned up the last of his energy. Just five minutes, he promised himself, yawning. Sure enough, with his legs folded beneath him and his hands in his lap, Alastor drifted into a light and wholly content slumber.

Surely the party downstairs would be heating up soon, with all the actors playing their proper roles.


"Do you have to follow me around?" Came a boy's voice, light and fluffy but altogether devoid of feeling, as if from a robot feigning humanity. Like his voice, the boy's face was equally stolid and impassive, even as he spoke in an almost accusatory fashion to his would-be stalker.

"Don't be droll, Trevor," his follower responded in a voice just as high and childlike, but with a distinct edge of authority. "I just wanna see who you're gonna talk to."

Trevor didn't respond, instead shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his black suit pants, the gentle lustrous fabric coming down to rest lightly upon the ankles of his dark gray and silver gym shoes. He wasn't a fan of dress shoes. They had a tendency to fall off whilst he was piloting his C-Frame, his anti-alien combat armor. Plus, they were generally uncomfortable, even in the future.

Under his unfastened Jacquard-stitched suit jacket, black enough to match his debonair dress pants, was a collared shirt, a rich resonant gray in color. Tucked in, top unbuttoned. The dress shirt matched his eyes perfectly—a vibrant ghostly gray. A gaunt black tie had been fastened under his collar by his handlers, but he'd loosened it with his fingers the moment he was free, leaving it to hang almost awkwardly to the side, its tail flapping up ever so slightly as he walked. He really disliked ties. They were relics of the past, like little choking devices. Bleh.

Top met bottom at the belt area, where Trevor sported a custom-made black leather belt featuring the Rizzo family insignia on the buckle. The look was completed by a thin dark gray fabric that sat upon his shoulders like a scarf, descending down to the small of his back. It was a gift he'd received from a dear friend a while back. It was made of a fireproof future material that, when heated, changed colors—usually to a flat light purple. Gifts were a rare thing for Trevor, so he treasured each and every one. Specifically, he wore the scarf everywhere he could get away with it.

All in all, his garb was an unorthodox mix of the urban and the dapper. He thought he looked stupid, all dressed up and what not, but he'd been told he looked "like a real Rizzo".

"You look like a real Rizzo, Trev," his now-definitely-a-stalker said aloud, as if reading the boy's thoughts, "though you really should fix the tie. Want me to do it? You know I can."

Trevor picked up his pace, throwing a look over his shoulder instead of responding verbally. The boy that was following him had to be about as old as Trevor himself: around twelve or so. He had stringy black hair that resembled Trevor's own stocky dark hair, too. They were even dressed similarly, with his follower garbed in lightly-pressed black slacks and a short white dress shirt that wasn't tucked in. Like Trevor, the other boy's suit jacket was unbuttoned, its tails swaying back and forth as he walked, his expensive black dress shoes clicking and clacking across the floor as he picked up his pace, lest he be left behind. The boy moved with a regal swagger, as if he somehow owned the place.

To any onlooker, the two could easily pass as brothers.

In his hurry to lose this stalker, Trevor neglected to keep track of where he was going and collided painfully with someone, nearly losing his balance. Ripping his hands from his pockets in an attempt to steady himself, he took an uncertain step backwards, looking up at whom he'd unintentionally accosted.

For the first time in quite a while, Trevor's stolid demeanor fractured, his eyes widening in genuine surprise at the person before him. Dressed in an all-black suit, the man was much taller than he was, that's for sure. He had rough, untamed black hair that fell down around his eyes as bangs. If Trevor were much taller, he might not've been able to make eye contact, but peering at an upward angle as he did allowed their eyes to meet. He noted the red tint of the man's irises and instantly felt an overpowering sense of... something.

Though impossible to notice by simply looking at him, Trevor's knees were shaking. His traitorous palms had become sweaty. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, like a racehorse pounding down the pavement. It was all very odd. He hadn't experienced anything like this since...

Well, since he fought his first alien four or so years ago, when he was eight. It's your purpose. He remembered one of the scientists from the facility telling him. It is the sole reason for your existence. A weapon for humanity. For the Rizzo. But now he was here. Back in the past. To fight the Vongola of legend that he'd read so much about growing up as a proverbial (or not) lab rat.

And now there was one standing right in front of him—he noticed immediately. And he'd managed to introduce himself by rudely bumping into him. Great.

There was an awkward silence before Trevor mustered the courage to speak, breaking eye contact by looking off to the side.

"Sorry. Um," he began, gulping audibly. "Hi. Sorry." He apologized a second time. "You're... um..." He paused, licking his lips and bringing his hands together in front of him. Subconsciously, he began to twiddle his thumbs. When he began again, he spoke as if possessed, with little to no air between his words. "You're Joel Lambe, the Vongola's Lightning Guardian. Adopted son of Lambo, five feet nine inches in height, one-hundred and forty five pounds, 18 in this time period, goes by the alias Ohm, and whose various interests include—"

A firm hand on the boy's shoulder interrupted his panicked drawl. Trevor turned his head in confusion to see his stalker standing next to him.

"Hey there, Vongola," the stalker began, meeting the man's eye without a single ounce of hesitation. "Nice place y'all got here. I'm Alastor," he said his name as if it were of the highest royalty, bowing deeply at the waist before continuing. "My buddy the talker over here is Trevor. Apparently, he's a huge fan." The words came out with just the slightest hint of sarcasm.

The boy Alastor stared up at the man, this "Joel," with the petite disarming smile of a happy-go-lucky child fresh upon his face; however, the boy's eyes told a different story—one of maturity, hostility, and ill intent.

"Can we trouble ya for an autograph?"


Elsewhere in the gymnasium, a gaggle of business executives in sharp multi-thousand dollar suits sipped their drinks and laughed at each other's off-kilter jokes.

"And then I told him just like this I told him," one of the executives began, his nasally voice catching in his throat. He was a short portly man with bulbous sunken eyes and posture so bad he had to walk with a cane in one hand and a wine glass in the other. "No, I like firing people!" With the way he spoke, it was obvious he was attempting an impersonation of someone, however nasally.

Apparently that was the punch line, because the other three executives busted out in raucous laughter, careful not to spill their drinks as they slapped their knees in unbridled glee. As they quieted down, another of the execs spoke up.

"I've got one," he said, his voice a deep baritone full of the weight and power of his position. He was obviously as accustomed to being the center of attention as he was demanding it, and demand it he did. The other executives each turned their bodies to face him, acknowledging him fully. Something about this man demanded their respect. Demanded their adoration. Demanded their eyes be on him at all times.

Far above all others, the man was like some sort of royalty—like a god—and he knew it. He moved with a royal air. He talked with a royal authority. He had a royal presence. There were none here greater than him, and everyone knew it, none more so than he.

He took a sip from his tall ornate glass cup before speaking again. The others followed suit.

"I recently encountered a family not too long ago," he began, bringing the drink away from his face and down to his side. He was quite a bit taller than six feet, and so towered above his fellows. "This family was particularly powerful, but they managed holdings that I wished to acquire, and were generally in my way."

The executives reacted with looks of mock shock upon their faces, one of them going so far as to silently mouth the words "no way".

"So," the man continued, "my guardians and I killed them all." He spoke as cavalierly as one would when conversing about the weather. "We removed their very existences from history itself, along with the existences of everyone connected with them. When we were done with their motley crew, it was as if they never were."

There was an awkward silence as the executives eyed their fellow CEO with looks of incredulity. Said man, for his part, simply took another sip of his drink, eyeing each of them in response. When they noted the sincerity in his eyes, their expressions transitioned from that of incredulous humor to abject fear. One of them even took a step backwards, jaw hanging. The others were similarly speechless.

If the man acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation before him, it didn't show. At all. The expression on his face was one of absolute tranquility—of a man so sure of himself that he regards his own confidence as one would a law of Physics. His hair, as pitch black as the night sky, was styled into a spiky configuration, the gel holding his hair up against gravity as if it were suspended in time. He wore a black pinstriped suit, buttoned properly, with a white undercoat and silver tie. His expensive black dress shoes reflected the ceiling of the gymnasium above.

He projected power. Raw. Dangerous.

With one final gulp, the man finished his drink, setting the glass down on a nearby table. The sound reverberated through the gaggle like a slap, knocking them from their stupor. The executive closest to the man found his courage first, speaking up.

"Excuse me, sir, b-but... are you serious?"

The man turned to him and raised his hand, slowly reaching inside his jacket. When he quickly removed a card, the other executives flinched slightly.

"The name's Alastor," the man said, responding to the executive's question with a curt gesture and a business card. The poor executive wilted under the force of Alastor's intense gaze, timidly grabbing at the card as if seeking permission. After a few grabs, Alastor allowed him to take it. "Alastor Rizzo." When he smirked, it was an expression devoid of humor or happiness. The malice in his eyes was palpable. "Look me up some time."

At that he swiveled on his heel, turning his back to the men. He was bored with them.

With both hands he straightened his tie.

It was almost time.

In his peripheral vision he spotted a girl with short straight pink hair moving about. Immediately, he knew who and what she was: one of the infamous Vongola.


As he moved towards her, he fought to keep down his smirk, though he couldn't keep the animus from his eyes. It was one of the few things that was truly beyond him.

"Hello, miss," he said as he walked up to her, holding out his hand. "You wouldn't happen to be one of those Vongola guardians I've heard so much about, now would you?"

The setting changes from earth to Vongola Headquarters in Japan

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola
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#, as written by Damioa
Tsssss. Tsssss. Tssss.
The sound rang throughout the room. Hissing like a snake and cracking like glass that was slowly being shattered. A precision unlike any other was taken place. More hissing. More concentration. All for naught. At least, that's what the young man thought. He did this every morning. Meditation and focus, nothing on his mind. Nothing, but the feel of his own aura. The man was calm, but his aura was wild and fierce. A perfect match for him if he could think of one.
The hissing continued until he was able to make it as quiet as possible. It had always started loud. Mostly because it was easy for anything to be loud. However, for something that was loud in nature to be suddenly silenced. That, took true skill. He had almost made it. Made it so that the silence would rule over the noise, but every time he came close, he felt his aura fight against him. It always fought dirty, targeting the one place no man was safe. His heart. Figuratively and not, he was one day going to have to let go of his burdens to become stronger. The only question was, how?

"Hey Jooooooooooooeeeeeeeeelllll"

" Ah.."

The man jumped, snapping out of his meditation, surprised by the boys call. He looked at him for a moment before turning slightly away and displaying his aggravation. "ReallY?" That was hia only question. Not towards the boy in general, but to himself. Was he that far gone into his own world that he hadn't noticed his own god brother approaching.

"What?" The boy looked puzzled. "I didn't scare you did I? Usually you know when I'm sneaking up on you. Hehe." A look of achievement with a hint of cockiness displayed on the lads face.

"Shut it kid." Joel said with little care as he stood up. Passing by the teenaged boy with his eyes closed, he patted his blonde head of hair. "Don't you need to get ready? Or are you wearing that?" His eyes opened just to focus on the kids attire. Black sweats, a black hoody and a grey skull cap. "Ehh."

"Huh?" The younger lad looked himself over. "I don't know what's so wrong about this look. I rather have people see me for who I am. Not what they want me to be."

"What you are, is the head of the Vongola Familia. Or did you forget?"

"Nah. I remember, but, look at it this way. Do I look cool with my back straight and my stature in an uncomfortable strict look, or, do I look awesome the way I am now? I think you know the answer. If you want, I'll take off the skull cap." The boy removed his head warmer and reviled his hair that was the exact definition of what one would call hat hair.

"You know what Cain? Just be yourself. You're not good at faking the proverbial funk anyway." Joel grinned. "Let's go. I'm sure we at least don't want to be late."

The two left after Joel changed from his ceremonial attire to his business attire. Cain might have been able to get away with wearing whatever he wanted, but, being an adult, Joel didn't have that luxury. He had to prove to the older mafioso that he was able to instruct and guide the younger members. He didn't mind wearing his black casual suit very much. He was actually quite comfortable in it after unbuttoning the top buttons and untucking his shirt. The shoes were a little awkward in feeling, but he knew after walking for awhile he'd feel better.

As the two entered the hall, Joel looked around. "Okay. Now Cain, don't go running off and causing trouble. This is your party and you're expected to represent us and give a speech. Matter fact, have you even prepared one?.....Cain?" He turned around to where the boy use to be. He could have sworn he had followed him in there. "Damn," he sighed. After looking around for Cain with no avail, Joel decided it was best just to let him do what he wanted. After all, he was still a kid and you only get one chance to be a kid. The man walked around, admiring the weapons of old, including his fathers old shield weapon. It was kind of ironic to say the least. He never imagined that they would choose him to be the one to change the way his guardian type fought. Though, it came at a heavy price. No. That's not the way he saw it anymore. It came at a small one actually. His childhood wouldn't have amounted to anything anyway without the Familia.

As he turned, he felt a bump to his thigh. It was hard enough to get his guard up. He was at the ready to kill whoever it was that had nudged him. His eyes quickly went from blue to a crimson red, as he looked in front of him and saw nothing. Maybe it was an assassin. Or... A kid?

He noticed a small boy who seemed to be looking at him attentively and eased his horrifying gaze. His eyes went back to being blue and he gave one of those smiles adults give children to know that it's safe around the area. It was comforting, to him at least. Though when the boy started saying all this information that was directed to him, he couldn't help but feel the kid was a weird one. He didn't recognize him either.

"How do you know so much about me," he asked. It was indeed weird. It was odd for people to know Joel's full first name. It was even more odd that a kid knew it. though he didn't look that much of a threat. More like he was a mirror image of himself, before he matured. Though that's another story for another time.

Another boy came buy, latching onto the other kid. Joel didn't pay much attention to what he was saying. He was more attentive on how he carried himself. It wasn't happy go lucky. Not to say the least. More like, he just didn't care at all about his surroundings. It seemed like he wasn't a kid at all for a few instances in between his speech. Though, he was thrown for a loop when he was asked for his autograph.

"Really. I'm no one so special as to have his autograph taken. Though, if you insist, I guess I'll give one to you," he said as he called over one of the waiters for a piece of paper. He wrote down something to the first boy, 'Whenever you need, lightning will strike for you.' It was more of a figurative letter, and the boy probably wouldn't know what it meant, but he made sure only the first boy got it. For the second boy he wrote, "For my biggest fan," with a smiley face.

"There you guys go. There's a little note for the both of you in your letters. Enjoy the party boys." With that, he turned away and walked off, waving his hand in a wave. He really needed to find Cain. Wherever he was.

Meanwhile, but, nice while for Cain, he had found a few girls to talk with. Though they all seemed boring. Not the type of boring one could classify, but the type that you can categorize. Don't worry. He didn't even know what was meant by that thought. He just settled for not liking the rich type of girl, or the boring type of girl who is only either interested in money, herself, or whatever's he's interested in. Truth be told, he never even knew who his perfect girl was, which was probably the reason he flirted with so many.

After he was done with a few high class business man daughter type, he looked for his next source of "interesting" conversation. That's when he saw her. A girl that he was sure was his age, but she had a sort of innocence about her. One that the other girls seemed to have thrown away to look more lady like. Not to mention that, but instead of wearing a dress or business attire as the other girls wore, she was more casual, just like him. Sort of. Looking at her, he thought of the best ice breaker for his introduction.

"I didn't know that we had people coming in from a school trip." It wasn't flirtatious or anything, but at least, he might have been able to know where she went to school. That would lead into a conversation about where she lived and so on. He was the conversation master of sorts. He could get someone talking about their whole life in five seconds of meeting them. The trick was, to ask questions in the form of direct sentences as to not sound like he was nosy. Though he was. He wanted to know as much about everyone he met as he knew about himself. It was fun getting to know people. "Though I must say, that uniform does look good on you, but I've never seen any of the girls in the schools around my area wear that type. Oh, where are my manners, I'm Cain, nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand to shake hers. "May I trouble you for your name?"

There it was, the final attack, once past the name basis, it was all clear from there. Though through the words of description upon his plan, he never really put that much thought into any type of plan. He just says what he knows people will respond to so that he can have a nice friendly conversation. Whether he was flirting or not, never crossed his mind, but he seemed to always end up doing it. "Oh well." was the thought that crossed his mind when called out on it. He was just being himself. The only person he ever wanted to be.

The setting changes from vongola-headquarters-in-japan to Earth


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola
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#, as written by Miyer
Elizabeth stared straight ahead as she ran towards the Vongola house where the party would be held that night. Her cloak whipped behind her as she ran and she became nothing more then a trail of lightly as she moved past others.

"Lizzy? Maybe I should be the one to go in tonight...?", the hesitant voice whispered in the back of Elizabeths head. The girl tilted her head slightly and entered her mind plane, the one she currently shared with the young second heir, Miku Rizzo. Her body continued on autopilot towards her destination as Elizabeth turned all her attention to the conversation inside her head.

A blank, black and blue plane appeared before her mind eye along with the appearance of her other half. Miku sat looking up as Elizabeth materialized in their mind plane, and for a moment both girls simply stared into the familiar blue eyes they each had. Both had the same eyes, their main similarity. Identical in appearance.

"If that is what you want Miku. I suggest you move with caution, socialize as you please but don't forget they are your enemy.", the last word was said coldly, and echoed across the shared mind plane. Miku cringed slightly before glancing nervously up into Elizabeth's glowing blue eyes.

She nodded, turning her head away and she felt Elizabeths presence leave. Elizabeth had returned to reality so that they may reach their destination on time. Miku was for a moment as she saw she still wore her school uniform, eyes widening briefly as she wondered what others would think of her, showing up at a high class party in her simple uniform! The thought was soon forgotten however as Elizabeth reappeared again, and with a simple nod, Miku felt the familiar pulling as she was drawn from her mind plane and placed in control of their shared body.

She knew without pause that she now resembled her normal self, short pigtails and school uniform in tack. Looking up at the big building, Miku paused momentarily and breathed in before letting the breath out slowly. Easy smile already set on her face, Miku entered the building. Elizabeth's personality still lingered slightly due to the recent exchange but Miku could already feel it slipping away as colorful dresses and different people caught her eye and her brain began moving quickly from one thing to another in what could only be considered a childish curiosity and excitement.

Miku could almost hear Elizabeth sighing in frustration due to Miku's 'Unprofessional' behavior and had to cover a small laugh as she made her way around the room. She saw many people but decided to stick to socializing with those more near her generation and slowly began moving her way through circles of people, smiling and laughing when appropriate while sharing her opinion before quickly drawing away after Elizabeth's insistence that she did not get close to any present.

As she moved from circle to circle, her eyes noted how each treated her. Most started with surprise or disgust at being talked to by such a 'common' girl and Miku couldn't help but find them quite funny in their pompous behavior. Though soon their 'holier then thou' attitude became tedious and Miku found her mind wondering in search of something more entertaining then these different circles of basically the same people.

"I didn't know that we had people coming in from a school trip.", Miku started slightly before pulling her mind round to the boy who had started talking to her. She almost grinned as she noted the casual clothing and his attitude, the boy was different from the rest here. For one he had actually started the conversation and two, he actually seemed friendly. Before she could really greet him, he was talking once more and she had to hold that laugh again as she listened to him. "Though I must say, that uniform does look good on you, but I've never seen any of the girls in the schools around my area wear that type. Oh, where are my manners, I'm Cain, nice to meet you.", He stuck out his hand to shake hers and Miku smiled before returning the gesture and taking his hand in return. "May I trouble you for your name?"

Miku couldn't hold it in and laughed slightly, shaking his hand before letting go. "Nice to meet you cain! My name is Miku and you're right, I don't live around here.", she smiled cryptically before bring her hand up to cover her laughter again. The boy was funny without even realising it.

"Sorry, It's just, It's nice to know I am not the only one that seemed to forget their formal attire.", she said while bring her hand away and smiling up at him, giving the reason for her laughter, "So Cain, what brings you to this fine evening? Especially considering the bed head.", she asked curiously, her eyes lit in humor as she turned her gaze to the boys messy hair. It kind of made her want to fix it for him but then again, she would probably end up making it worse so she just did what she did best. Talking.

The setting changes from earth to Vongola Headquarters in Japan

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola
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A princess sat in her little chariot, watching those whom walked with green eyes, not unlike Hashihime, the bridge princess whom waits long nights for her lover to return. She wore a beautiful white gown and white heels, but she could only sit, waiting not for her lover, but for the time to attack, like the bridge princess Hashihime, a demon fueled by jealousy. What sparked this jealousy is unknown even to her, but a wave of green had washed over her and made her want to squirm.

Initially, she was quite upset, having been left stranded there. Another one of the guardians was supposed to be in charge of her, but that person had ran off somewhere, leaving her alone and afraid. Indeed, Flandre wanted to be less dependent on others, but the transition was very difficult.

Flandre could have decided to simply wear a long gown and let the Starbow run free, hidden under the gown, but she would have looked unnaturally tall and would slide across the ground as if she were the snow wraith Yuki-Onna. So, she sat as the Hashihime, a green-eyed monster. She felt as if she were the lightning of which strikes the tallest of trees.

With her green eyes (of which are actually amber) she watched the other guardians of Rizzo, and watched for the Vongola as well. The Boss, Alastor of Space, was speaking with one of the Vongola, the three-eyed creature whom of which was the Vongola's Mist guardian. She, like the Mist, wore an expression that masked everything about her, including the ugly third eye of which marked her origin, an alien, like those whom bully Earth and destroyed her country. To wear her expression, Flandre thought, must be absolutely terrible. Yet a bland color was better than none.

For Space to be interacting with the Alien, well, it seemed only natural. Alastor was a person Flandre felt absolutely powerless against, despite being of royalty. He red eyes pierced through the hearts of the weak and the strong and drove through any obstructions. Flandre found no comfort from him, even with that kind mask he often put on. Flandre was jealous about how Alastor was planning on taking on the Boss himself, something of which Flandre wished to do to prove herself worthy, but she couldn't possibly look him in the eyes and take something from him. To wear the expression that made all bow to one's will was a color Flandre wished to experience.

Approaching them ever so casually was a lonely Star. Flandre had been watching him with her green eyes cheat his way into winning himself a car, of which he is likely never to use, as long as the plan went as smoothly as Alastor had planned it (and if it didn't, may God be willing enough to spare them Alastor's rage, an expression Flandre hoped never to see) they would only be back for a day at the very most, even only a few hours if Alastor had the strength to bring them all back to the present. Using illusions to meet his ends, blinding the truth, he was almost as bad as the three-eyed monster, yet Flandre trusted on him and depended on him as equally as she did on the other guardians. Of course, being forgotten and forced to wait for those whom of which she relied on, like Hashihime, gave her an idea about the exact extent the other guardians cared for her. She was merely an extra weight that needed to be pushed around on wheels, and it made her jealous. If Flandre's eyes turned any greener, she could have gouged them out and sold them as expensive emeralds that Aphrodite would be jealous of, yet they would have been the eyes of a green-eyed monster so terrible that they would even cause Typhon, king of monsters, to shudder, but not Alastor.

The green eyes searched the room for another, the one person Flandre couldn't possibly be jealous of. The Vongola Eleventh. His clothing was absolutely unrefined and his demeanor seemed more like that of a brat than a Boss that could be respected like Alastor. He could walk, Flandre knew well, but he had wheels for feet as well, like herself, the one thing they had in common besides how pitiful they both were. This Vongola Eleventh isn't a man yet, like the great boss Flandre had read so much about. Plus, when Alastor dealt with him, he wouldn't even be that great Vongola boss that she read about, oh poor him! There was one thing, however, that troubled her. The Comet guardian, the girl of two shades of the same color, of two expressions, seemed to be speaking with him ever so casually. Did she not realize that this was the boy that they would kill? Perhaps the boy was even more pitiful, being totally unaware of the person he was talking to being a person whom was also planning on killing him. Maybe Comet wanted to kill the boy as badly as she did, to gain Alastor's approval, oh it made her squirm!

But the one thing that probably upset Flandre the most was how calm the boy was. He was so pitiful, it was something to be jealous about! Flandre just wanted to kill him! In fact, she decided that was exactly what she would do. Perhaps Alastor would praise her for defying him, as the strong can only respect the strong, like she did. Flandre felt the boy had absolutely no chance against her. He walked on wheels for fun, she walked on wheels because her life depended on it. He was a brat, she was a princess, a strong chevalier, a perfect doll. He had a flame of the limited Sky, she had a flame of which didn't even exist before! A flame of the endless Space, a flame which represented that of which could not even be properly observed! Why doesn't he observe her?! Does the Sky not know how to look up? What filled this green-eyed monster with envy the most was the fact that she was the green-eyed one. It should have been he that looked upon her with green eyes, but instead, he was busy chasing Comets whizzing by his head. She was envious that he was envy-free. Flandre wanted the Vongola to see nothing but her, as she shall be the most important thing in his life, before she ended his pitiful existence.

"Look at me," she whispered, scowling and biting her fingernails, "Like Hashihime, whom slaughters lovers that cross her lonely bridge."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola
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"Yes," the pink haired girl replied, her voice devoid of any semblance of feeling or empathy. In this she reminded this elder Alastor of Trevor, one of his more fearsome guardians back in his proper timeline. For some reason, that caused a jackal's grin to spread slowly across his face. "I am the current Guardian of the Mist for the Vongola."

Though he feigned a polite ignorance as to her true identity, Alastor had quite a bit of intel on this Vongola. Perhaps more than he did on any of the other guardians. This "girl" was a traitor to her species. One of their slaves.


As the mist guardian completed her sentence, Alastor did something unexpected. In one moment, he was towering over her, but in the next, as if time itself had skipped a frame, he had her right hand firmly gripped in his own, and was actively pulling her towards him.

With the girl sufficiently caught off guard, the man kneeled slightly, careful not to wrinkle his expensive suit. Slowly, methodically, he placed his lips an inch or so away from her ear. He was close enough to feel the force of her presence against his cheek, to hear the air escape her lungs, to see the veins in her head pumping, to smell her scent—the rancid stench of a blood traitor.

"Can your eye see me for what I really am, Shaji Ai?" He whispered his rhetoric, pronouncing each syllable carefully. Delicately. Menacingly. He tightened his grip on her hand with intent to injure, noting with thinly veiled glee her Vongola ring pressing into the skin of his palm.

Easy. So easy it would be to take from this freak. To take her ring. To take her dignity. To take everything that she was and destroy it, as was his birthright. For, in the parallel timeline from which this particular Alastor hailed, he was head of the Rizzo famiglia and more. He was a planetary king—a god!—and people like this girl?

They were the peasants. They were the nothings. They were mere obstacles, standing in the shade of his glory. His power.

Alastor barely stifled a sigh upon releasing the girl's hand. She was not the Vongola whom he was brought here to accost. She was not his target.

"Disappear," he muttered, sauntering away with a princely air. And with that, he was done with her. To him, it was as if she hadn't even existed in the first place.

The entire incident lasted no more than a dozen seconds, Alastor once again straightening his tie with a series of curt professional gestures as he walked. This was the third time he'd straightened it since he'd arrived.

In front of the man was a gaggle of peasants, all blathering on about nothing. Three people soon caught his eye, however.

One was a boy, tall and slender, with light brown eyes and brown hair. This one seemed to be following him, albeit with a modicum of tact. Alastor immediately pegged him as this timeline's Star guardian. A powerful ally he will make one day, Alastor thought to himself. Another was a blue-eyed girl with short, choppy black hair styled in two high pigtails. Alastor recognized her as a younger version of his very own Comet guardian and little sister, Miku. She was as regal and powerful as a queen back in his timeline, but not so here. Not yet, perhaps. Alastor shook his head, though the gesture was barely noticeable. They even had the same lack of regard for formal attire.

It wasn't Miku that interested him, however. It was with whom she was speaking that had drawn his eye.

He was dressed like an urban miscreant, with short dirty blonde hair hidden under a skull cap of sorts. Hoodie. Jeans.

Alastor reveled as a certain feeling began to bubble up in him, eventually infecting every inch of his being with its tantalizing tingles.

He'd found his target.

However, before he could take another step, the lights in the room dimmed noticeably. Alastor tilted his head, peering over his shoulder. He noted hushed activity centralized around the gymnasium's stage. Seems like the Vongola's tech demo was about to begin.

With another curt, surgical gesture, Alastor straightened his tie for the fourth time that night. Hopefully the Rizzo guardians of this timeline were ready for what comes next.


Trevor grinned, gawking over the thin piece of paper between his fingers as Josei walked away. Okay, so he didn't really "grin" per say, but he curled back his lips and aligned his teeth like he'd seen people do in the movies. The "warmth" of his attempted facial gesture failed to defrost the expression of tranquil boredom that radiated from his eyes, but it was as close as the boy could get to a natural smile. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure how to react to what had just happened. Perhaps a frown would be in order. Or maybe a laugh? He imagined how Flandre might react. Instantly, his mind's eye presented him with a scene of bloodshed and death, with Flandre standing atop a mound of bodies, laughing maniacally.

Hmm, probably not the appropriate reaction there.

Whatever nervousness that overcame him in front of the lightning guardian had finally subsided, replaced by something entirely new. Was it adoration? Was this thankfulness? Maybe. Trevor wasn't sure, but, as he stared down at the autograph in his hands, he knew that he liked this "it," whatever it happened to be.

To have met one of the infamous Vongola was beyond surreal. Their tales were the stuff of legends back in the future, Trevor knew this first hand. His every spare moment outside of the C-Frame was spent reading up on the trials and adventures of the past families. Of all the literature available, he found the harrowing accounts of the Vongola's tenth and eleventh generations most impressive.

Their eleventh generation especially reminded him of the current Rizzo guardians in so many ways. And now he actually got to meet one... it was the boy's wildest fantasy come true. Surely he would treasure this autograph as he would his own life. He reread the words inscribed on the paper: Whenever you need, lightning will strike for you. So cool! Josei's handwriting was a bit messy, but Trevor didn't care.

Absorbed as he was in his own world, Trevor didn't notice someone approach from behind.

"Seems like you got the autograph you wanted after all, huh Trev?" The person said, ruffling the boy's hair. Immediately, Trevor had the knee-jerk urge to slap whomever's hand it was away. He clenched his eyes shut, hackles raised like a cat's, a sensation not unlike vertigo assaulting his senses. He didn't like people touching him, least of all his hair—he'd had enough prodding and probing as a lab rat earlier in his life.

Before he reacted, however, he noted that he recognized the speaker. He kinda recognized the hand on his head, too. Donovan, he said to himself, opening his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. He even let out a small content sigh. Donovan, the asteroid guardian, was special. He didn't mind a pat on the head from him.

"If you're going for the complete set," Donovan continued, "let's get that guy's next. I'm not sure who he is but that little faerie isn't just a hologram." The older boy said, motioning at someone else in the crowd.

Faerie? Trevor knew who he was instantly. "Vongola's rain guardian," he said aloud, folding Josei's autograph neatly in his hands and—

Trevor froze, looking down at his hands.


The paper. The autograph. It wasn't there.

"To my biggest fan," Alastor mimicked Josei's voice, reading from the autograph he'd been given. "What a crock." With one hand, he balled the paper up and threw it on the floor. He then snapped his fingers twice, catching the attention of one of the ushers. The man that approached was much taller than the boy Alastor was. "Clean this up," the little guy commanded, pointing at the balled up piece of paper. "I don't want to see it anymore." The waiter gave him a sideways look for a moment before acquiescing.

Trevor only stared at what was in Alastor's other hand. It was the second autograph, the one Josei had given to him specifically. The one that was taken from him. Alastor was fast. No, he wasn't fast, it was different than that. On another level. Trevor didn't even realize it'd been taken from him until it was far too late. All he did was look away for a single moment...

The boy Alastor turned towards Trevor and Donovan, though he was focusing on Trevor. Effervescent red met icy gray as they locked eyes.

"Why do you want this crap anyway, Trev?" Alastor asked, waving the autograph in the air above them. "It's not like they're Rizzo or something. They're just a buncha forgotten nobodies that sucked and died." Alastor brought his hands together, his eyes going wide with fervor. "Not godly like us!"

When Alastor made a motion like he was going to rip the autograph in half, Trevor's hand shot out, gripping Alastor's forearm in a vice. For a moment, neither boy moved.

It was Trevor that spoke first.

"Give it back," he uttered, his icy expression never shifting for a second. There was no trace of anger in his voice. No outrage, wrath, or indignation. There was nothing, nothing but his words.

"These Vongolas you love so much are trash," Alastor pouted, pulling his arm in an attempt to break Trevor's grip. His tone that of a spoiled child not getting what he wanted. "You'll see how weak they are when we crush them!"

Slowly but surely, a dark gray-white glow began to emanate from Trevor's hand. There would be no time trickery where that autograph was concerned. "Give. It. Back."

Unbeknownst to the two boys, the lights in the room had dimmed noticeably. The Vongola's technology demonstration was about to begin, and they were about to blow the mission.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko
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#, as written by Damioa
The girl was smiling and actually showing genuine laughter. It was either that, or she was real good at faking it. Though Cain didn't think it was an act at all. Not like some of the pompous 'queens' around him have put on. Though one thing he noticed, is that even though she stated that she hadn't been from around there, she hadn't gave up the location of her school. Which was weird because he was only playing about the school trip thing. If anyone was here, he'd expect members of a school to be the last ones. This wasn't that type of party. Though, because he didn't really care all that much about it, he let his suspicion slide and went on to the next subject. After hearing her relief about not being the only one in casual clothing, he smiled. "Yeah," he said, "I believe that if I'm going to wear something then it minus well be something that defines me. Not something people want to define me, but something that actually shows what type of person I am. I like these clothes because they do just that. That, and they're comfortable."

Cain shared a laugh with the girl after she asked him what he was there for. He was actually laughing at his hair keep, as he remembered Joel tell him that he minus well have kept his cap on. Blushing, and putting it back on his head, he nervously rubbed his nose. "Well. I guess you could say this was my party I suppose," he tried explaining in the most Casual way ever. "No, that's not right. Hmmm. Yeah okay. So you could definitely say this party is actually centered around me in a way. It's actually hard to explain. Dang. I wish I knew how." Never liking the idea of explaining his place as family head to people, every time he was forced to it would happen like this. Basically he would give people the dimmest explanation he could. One that wasn't actually an explanation, but a bunch of maybe's and sort of's. Though, she'd see him for who he really was in a couple minutes.

"Yeah. I'm sort of the Vongola boss. Hehehe."

Meanwhile, Joel went around the room, collecting information on who was here and who wasn't. It didn't take long for most of the family to get there, despite one person, but he knew she'd arrive soon.

"Joel," Someone called from behind him.

Turning around, Joel looked at the man responsible for funding all of this. Never in his days of knowing the man, had he ever trusted him. He looked like a snake of sorts with thin eyes and a crooked mouth. Reminded him of one of those mobsters from the old days, or movies that he'd watch about the old days. The biggest problem was that he wasn't Mafioso at all. Just a rich son of a gun. Though, since he had called him, he had no other choice but to talk to him. For saying nothing to a donator at a party funded by them would make the whole family look bad. Yet another instance where he wished he was Cain formed as he sighed to himself, forcing a smile on his lips. "Mr. Hie. What a pleasant surprise you coming all this way. Are you ready for the events kick off?" His voice was patterned to an alternate vibe and showed no tattle towards his thoughts.

"Hmph. Very much indeed I am my boy," The man cheered. "You know, not everyone can say that they were present for the 11th generation becoming an official team. Hehhe. How do you feel about the whole thing?"

"I don't know. I suppose it's not a big step for me." Joel actually felt the opposite, but he wasn't going to let some outcast to the family know he was feeling tired already.

"Oh really. Well I'm glad you don't see it as a problem. That means you can focus on the goal we paid towards. I want the 11th generation to be the best, as much as anyone else. I'm sure you know as well as I, what that means your main focus should be. Remember. We're all watching you. Rooting for you, if you will." The man of rich descent bowed and turned around. His whole movement style. His voice. It was a constant reminder to Joel why he had hated people like that. It was also a reminder that he was helpless around those types of people. People who reminded him that he was currently the fall guy. If anything happened with the 11th, it would be because he failed to groom them. He had always wondered, how can he be a boss to his boss. According to guidelines, the 11th sky guardian should have been in charge, but, because of his age, they decided he needed guidance. What the hell did that mean? Who was going to guide him? No one was alive or available to do it. No one besides from him. Thus it had been decided years ago, that Joel would be the one to teach him how to lead, so that he could lead, Joel would be the one to protect him, until he could protect himself. Joel was the fall guy. Until that kid got it right, Joel would always be the fall guy. Though, he never cared about what people would put on him. He knew it would never come to that. For he would give his life for Cain.

"Hey. Doctors." Joels voice was stern, as it had always been with doctors. Oh how he hated the doctors in the family. "Get to your designated areas. I just felt the last needed guess come in. We're starting in five. Someone tell the guards to stop frolicking and do their damn jobs. I swear if you guys don't act like this is your job, I'll sever you completely from it. Hurry up. Where the hell is Cain?!"

"Wow Joel." The familiar sound made Joel's head turn eagerly. He let a grin cross on his serious demeanor. "You sure have a lot of moxie shouting out orders. I might start thinking you're cool."

"Let it go Wall. I don't need you nitpicking at my leadership."

"Power hungry." Wall laughed.

"I might be. Hehehe. It doesn't matter where Cain is actually. He knows where to go when the lights turn off. We all should. You might want to stand back." Joels smile was cunning and threatening enough to make his own friend step back, but he still stuck out his tongue at Joels own cockiness.

The lights went off and the small noise of the video began to play. the head scientist on their team walked up on stage and began his speech. "Ahem. Yes. Is this mike on."

"I do belief it is." One man said from the crowd.

"Jolly good." The old man said. "Now I had a script written, but then I forgot that my eyes are no longer good enough to read with I'm afraid."

An awkward silence went around the room.

"Ahem. It was only a joke. Don't be afraid to laugh."

Cain was probably the only one who wanted to laugh, but held it in as he looked at Miku.

Awe damn. She's gonna find out in like two seconds anyway. I minus well just come out and say it.

"So yeah. I said I was sort of the Vongola leader. If you wouldn't mind, could I rephrase that?" He said trying to come to grips with telling her.

"Anyway," The scientist continued. "Yes. So as you know, we have brought you here for two reasons. One reason is for you to see the official unison of the new Vongola family guardians. The second, to here us give out description and showcase about the new box weapon projects we are working on. Our goal this time, is to make the 11th generation the best out of all the others combined. We want to secure that there will be no foe that the family can't beat. That is why, everything talked about in this room is confidential to the outside. You all know the repercussions for leaking information from events like these. However, before I give a teaser to the secrets of the new generation, I must call the Vongola head, along with his guardians, for his opening speech." As the man ended, he stepped back giving the floor to the head of the Vongola family. The head, who happened to be none other than Cain.

The boy stepped back, feeling sort of down that he was made to talk so soon. "I'm sorry I didn't come out right and tell you. I'll make it up to you after the party, okay?" Flashing a smile, he took his skates from his bag and placed them under his feet. He then jumped in the air jumping again, off what seemed like nothing but air, leaving fire in the area he bounced off of. He continued doing this two more times, making the guest heads turn upward to be focused on him. The fire coming from his feet wasn't hot to feel threatened of, but some people still watched nervously at the sight. He made it to the area right over the podium and flipped backwards landing and rolling around the microphone box hold, steam coming off of his feet. Looking at the head guy in charge he nodded and went to the mic. He was nervous as could be when all of the peoples eyes were on him, but he didn't show it. He probably wasn't who they were expecting to see, but soon his charming words and polite attitude wooed their opinions.

"I want to be the first one to thank everyone for attending this event. I'm sure that all the staff and my guardians feel the same way about all of you being here today. At first when my father died, I was a little skeptical about taking his place as head of the family, but with your support and the support of family and friends, I can now, one hundred percent, guarantee, that in my hands and the hands of the other guardians, the Vongola will be just as good in all the years that I'm alive, as it was when my father was."

The crowd all clapped at his words, for they could tell that he had really meant them. Their original opinion of him wavering.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. However, the face of the new Vongola, doesn't belong to be alone. Without further adieu, I'd like to invite all the family guardians to the stand."

With that, he waited as Joel and the rest of the gaudiness came on stage with him. Joel instantly disappeared from where he was, leaving nothing but a hint of light and a crackling noise where he once stood. Instantly he appeared behind Cain and placed a hand on his shoulder, to show his approval at the boys opening speech. Once Joel was on stage, Cain waited for the rest of the guardians to come on stage before continuing.

The setting changes from vongola-headquarters-in-japan to Earth


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola
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#, as written by Miyer
Miku grinned slightly as Cain blushed before pulling on his beanie. "Well. I guess you could say this was my party I suppose,". Miku tilted her head slightly as the boy began to fumble out an answer to her question."No, that's not right. Hmmm. Yeah okay. So you could definitely say this party is actually centered around me in a way. It's actually hard to explain. Dang. I wish I knew how.", Miku chuckled slightly, before shaking her head up at him. The kid was cute when he was explaining things. though that smile was soon wiped from her face as Elizabeth repeated the cold words, "Enemy", inside her head once more.

"Yeah. I'm sort of the Vongola boss. Hehehe.", Miku's head shot up in shock at Cain's next words. Elizabeth was right, this boy was her enemy... to bad, he was nice... Miku's eyes darkened slight and Elizabeth moved underneath as their eyes stared at the boy now in front of them, the eleventh.

Miku didn't really notice a man had started a speech. Silently she watched Cai- Elizabeth cut her off again, he was the eleventh, they couldn't be one first name bases... "So yeah. I said I was sort of the Vongola leader. If you wouldn't mind, could I rephrase that?", and then Miku laughed again. The eleventh was just repeating himself and it was cute... She could feel that tugging feeling at the back of her head as Elizabeth tried to take control again. She would have to give in soon... but a few more seconds wouldn't hurt... right?

"I'm sorry I didn't come out right and tell you. I'll make it up to you after the party, okay?", she watched him flash a smile and amusement lit her eyes slightly as they watched the Eleventh make his way, quite dramatically, to the podium. Then the humor was gone and in their place flashed eyes as cold as ice. The school uniform became nothing but a pair of dark shorts and a star bikini top, covered by a deep blue and white cloak. The short pigtails grew longer and fell around the girls shoulders. Elizabeth stared the Eleventh with cold and calculating eyes.

With one last backwards glance curtsy of Miku's lingering personality, Elizabeth made her way towards her little brother. Unlike Miku who seemed absolutely clueless about most of her family, It was hard for the other side of her to pick up that Trevor was her relative. She moved to stand next to Trevor and Donoven almost silently, watching her older brother walk away. "Trevor, Donovan. How it Alastor handling the situation?", the words came out detached as her face remained stoic. "Is everyone prepared for the next course of action?", This question she directed towards Donovan, believing the older boy to have a better understanding of the situation considering she did not place much faith in the reckless Alastor they had now been graced with.

Miku forgot things but Elizabeth was different all together. Not simply a split personality, Elizabeth was the watcher. She knew what had been, what is and what was to come though she held no control over the situation except to watch again from the body of the Comet guardian. The words, "Observer.", had never been more true.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust
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Hildegarde twirled in her maroon dress, its tails spinning like the wisps of a mighty cyclone ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting rural town. Around and around she spun, slowly making her way across the elaborate tiling and embroidery beneath her feet like a ballerina, as elegant as a soaring eagle and as mighty as a raging dragon. With a curt click of her heel, she arrested her angular momentum, coming to a full stop near the edge of the balcony. She fastened her hands to the banister with a purpose, each of her fingers clamping down upon the sleek metal rail in a sequential, oddly alluring fashion.

She currently stood upon a small ornate balcony overlooking a massive convention center of some sort, filled with hundreds of moving bodies. The building belonged to the Vongola mob family. From the frantic scurrying of the urbane mafioso and dapper businessmen below, she surmised that the main event was about to get started.

Hildegarde threw a timid glance over her shoulder, a sheepish grin adorning her face. Behind her was a large steel door, and on it in bold red letters read:


She ogled the door with a dreamy expression plastered upon her face. Her lover was a mere staircase away from her. Between Donovan's momentum manipulation and sitting through the constant planning and rehearsal, she hadn't really found a chance to talk to him since they'd arrived in this backwards time period—at least, not alone like she wanted. Honestly, it seemed like her lover always found ways to avoid her. If she were a more impressible girl, perhaps that'd make her feel some type of way. It wasn't like they were technically lovers or anything... well, at least not yet. A girl can dream, mind you.

All she had to do now was walk through that door and climb those stairs and she could be in his arms.

Forever his!

Hildegarde took a step backwards, away from the edge of the balcony and towards the door, fully intending to reach for its handle. As with all things in her life, all she had to do was pull and it would obey her will. It would open for her. All she had to do was pull...

But she stopped, frozen, one hand still on the railing, the other suspended in mid grasp, outstretched, reaching for the door as if it were the cure for cancer teetering on the edge of an endless abyss.

In that moment, two things occurred to her simultaneously. First, Alastor had given her a mission, and Alastor's orders were absolute. He wouldn't much appreciate her presence with such a monumental task left unfinished. Second, three Vongola mafioso had gone through the very same door not ten minutes ago. No doubt Alastor had had his share of fun with them, and under no circumstances would Hildegarde allow her brand new high top dress to be besmirched with blood stains.

No matter how thoroughly you wash linens, the inky spots never really come out.

With a sigh of defeat, Hildegarde turned her gaze forward, leveling a frown at the sight in front of her. She stood towards the top of a massive convention center-style auditorium filled to the brim with walking talking suits babbling and bustling about. Among the assorted guests, she could easily pick out her Rizzo compatriots. They stuck out among the riffraff like sore thumbs.

There was Flandre, of course, easily spotted by her "equipment". Technically, Hildegarde was supposed to be down there along side her, wheeling her around like some sort of tacky chauffeur. Hah! Alastor would have to give the command himself before she would reconsider.

By the look in Flandre's eyes, she was riling herself up about something. Following her gaze, she spotted another Rizzo. The Comet guardian, Miku Rizzo. Interesting.

Hildegarde leaned forward over the railing as elegantly and daintily as she dared, using her hand as a makeshift visor in order to block out the glare of the halogen lamps directly above her. Even though the lights had been dimmed, she was close enough to them that they still managed to partially blind her. She noted out of her peripheral vision, and with thinly veiled revulsion, a few men on the stage below gawking at her.

With a motion as suave as a movie star's and twice as classy, Hildegarde reached into her voluptuous creamy-brown cleavage, removing a small bright red object, spherical in shape. It was a simple piece of hard candy. Without missing a beat, she popped the candy into her mouth, turning her nose up at the undesirables directly below.

If Alastor hadn't ordered there be no casualties, she might've given them the show of their lifetimes.

Having lost her original focus, Hildegarde, her hand still acting as a makeshift visor, rescanned the room, looking for Miku's signature pigtails. Instead, she spotted Alastor. Well, one of his images. Timeline clones, of a sort. Such an amazing and spectacular trick, as expected of her Alastor, an Adonis among men. Hildegarde had to physically stop herself from swooning at the thought of three Alastors existing simultaneously.

The Alastor she spotted was the younger version of her beloved Alastor, a positively adorable little boy of around 12 years of age. Hildegarde placed her free hand over her chest.

"Be still my beating heart!" She muttered to herself, a frenetic monsoon of fanatical frenzy baying at the edges of her voice.

Little Alastor was walking off, away from...

Hildegarde squinted, bringing her makeshift visor closer to her eyes. In Alastor's wake were two fellow Rizzos: Donovan, one of the fastest men she'd ever met, and Trevor, the cute little kid who was deep on the creepy side with a face that rarely shifted in expression or countenance. The two were looking a bit standoffish, though for what reason she could not deduce. Then again, those two always looked standoffish. They always stuck together, like cluster bombs.

Hildegarde flashed a petite smile, fanning her face with her hand in mock chagrin. Cluster bombs were her favorite type of death machines after all, and just the thought of them brought a smile to her face.

With another sigh, she returned to her task, searching through the crowd with her eyes. Things had quieted down considerably, and the Vongolas had begun to take the stage. Their boss, known in the history books as the "King of Flames," took center stage and started speaking.

Hildegarde stifled a cackle.

That kid boss and his cronies were nothing compared to the Rizzo dynasty. Nothing.

And then Hildegarde's eyes landed on whom she'd been searching for the entire time. Her target, as ordered by Alastor.

Her goal.

Hildegarde's eyes grew large, her pupils contracting, her lips peeling back from her teeth. The girl walked onto stage, seemingly none the wiser to Hildegarde's malicious presence several meters above her. She was just as the briefing on the Vongola family had described her. 150 centimeters tall with straight short pink hair and matching eyes.

Those beady little eyes.

The girl who had a ring, something that Alastor desired. And whatever Alastor desired, Alastor would get. Hildegarde would see to it.



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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"Trevor, Donovan." Trevor looked to the side to see Miku, though she seemed a bit different than usual. Her posture was less relaxed, her eyes more alert, her expression serious. He looked her in the eye as she addressed Donovan, who was standing by his side. "How it Alastor handling the situation?" The words came out detached as her face remained stoic. "Is everyone prepared for the next course of action?"

"Elizabeth," came a resonant baritone somewhere over Trevor's shoulder, as if in answer to her questions. He turned his head, recognizing the voice instantly.

"Alastor," Trevor said, almost in deference.

Alastor, tall and immaculately suited, sauntered over to stand between Trevor and Elizabeth such that the four formed a line of sorts. His forearms were locked behind his back in a reverse arm-fold, his hands gripping his arms at the elbow. He seemed at peace, like the eye of a hurricane idling overhead.

He nodded in response to the boy. "Trevor." He gave Donovan a brief nod as well. "Donovan."

Judging from the commotion near the stage area, more of the Vongola must've appeared. From some of the screams, Trevor guessed that a very special Vongola had appeared. Sure enough, after a few moments, she walked onto stage.

Nami Gokudera. Vongola Storm guardian. Also known as: Tempest, from the critically acclaimed (in this time) band Blast of Tempest. Trevor almost bit his tongue.

WIthout a doubt he had to have her autograph... by any means.

"My younger incarnation will handle himself properly," Alastor said, turning to face Elizabeth. He spoke loud enough to be heard, but soft enough not to draw attention. "And from what I can discern," he continued, looking up towards a balcony above the stage. A woman of dark hair and brown complexion was standing there, looking impatient and generally flummoxed. "It would seem that we are all in position."

"What now?" Trevor asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was a surreal type of excitement in the air. So heavy was the feeling that it was almost palpable. The adult Alastor smirked, showing his canines. To Trevor he looked like a vicious predator that'd finally found a chance to bury its fangs... and that wasn't all that far off.

Some part of Trevor, perhaps what remained of his inner child, tossed and turned uncontrollably in his abdomen like a cacophony of raging butterflies. It got to the point where he had to place a hand on his stomach in an effort to calm it, a perplexed look adorning his face. For but the briefest of moments, Trevor felt as if he didn't belong here, in this room. Or in this city. Or on this planet. For a fraction of a second, he wanted nothing more than to go back to his own time, back to fighting enemies that he knew.

That he hated.

The invaders. Earth's adversaries. They were the only reason the Rizzo were forced to travel back to the past like this.

These Vongolas, on the other hand, were not invaders. They were not the Adversary. That meant they weren't necessarily his enemies... right?

The prospect of doing battle with someone that wasn't an "enemy" but simply a "target"—someone that wasn't to be killed, just sufficiently accosted—didn't make sense to the boy. In fact, it positively confused him. When he fought as a soldier of the planetary military superstructure of the future, it was always to the death: either his, or the adversary's. There was no inbetween. No "sparing of life". Every battle had its designated casualty quota.

It was for this reason that, during the briefing, Alastor had commanded Trevor stay out of this initial skirmish. The goal was never the deaths of the Vongola. This battle was simply a quest for their rings, not their lives, and so was not a domain in which Trevor could reliably operate.

C-Frames are machines of war and annihilation, after all.

Alastor's answer came without hesitation, snapping Trevor out of his stupor. "You stay put," he commanded, referring to the boy. "I do not yet want them to know that with us we have someone who can do what you do, understood?" His voice positively echoed power, reverberating in Trevor's eardrums—though perhaps he simply imagined it. For his part, Trevor nodded in understanding and acquiescence, long since having gotten used to the elder Alastor's seemingly-backwards polysyllabic manner of speech.

Alastor unfurled his hands from behind his back, instead placing them inside his pockets. "As for the rest of us," he began, glancing over at Donovan. "Shall we begin?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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#, as written by Damioa
Joel watched as each of his fellow guardians walked, ran, and waltzed on stage. He didn't know if being a little too flashy would make his group seem a little childish to some people. However, he also didn't care. It wasn't as if the older fools who would look down on them for their display or in some of their cases, how loud and outspoken they were, could actually take their birthrights away. Though, Joel had to admit himself, that some of the banter being thrown around was unnecessary, but he decided to ignore it. Most of the people around him were still children after all. As for Cain, even though he had his mic taken from him by his guardians he still looked as if he was having a good time. This comforted the man a little, seeing his friend, who was more of a brother to him, smiling. It was hard for most people to tell, but Cain was having some problems getting use to his father not being around. It also didn't help that people kept on asking to talk to him, only to remind him of his position. It was because of those type of people that Joel kept his mouth closed when he looked down upon something. At least when it came to the boy. He had enough problems. Though, once Nami entered the building, some familiar faces were giving Joel a look of disappointment. He sucked on his teeth, not at her, but at the sleazy old men and woman who looked at him so. He wasn't the boss of the Vongola, so why was he the one to always be stared at. He wished he had been born at least two years later than his actual birth. That had to be the reason everyone looked at him so. Though, seeing as Cain would be an adult in two years, he wouldn't have to wait long before the eyes and ears of people were off of him. Though, what type of image would he give to himself if he just did nothing when asked to do something. This was a formal event after all, and so far, most of the top people in the family were informal. He sighed and put his hand on Cain's shoulder. "Hey. I don't think it'd look right if I corrected her here in front of all these people," he whispered.

"Huh. Naw," Cain laughed. "She's cool right? That's just her being her."

"People are watching though. Remember what type of party this is Cain."

To those words, Cain nodded and hopped off stage, starting his walk towards Nami. He kept his hands in his pocket and a determined look on his face as he approached her and the girl she was signing the CD for. "Hey. Let me see that Mic again for a sec," He said, grabbing the mic without much more warning than that. "Yes. Hello again. So It's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can go shove it up your....."

Before he was able to say anything else, Joel flashed over to him taking the microphone away. "What are you doing?"

"Telling it how it is. What are you doing?"

"Stopping you from acting like a fool."

"I don't know. The only fool I see here is you. You use to be more fun. What happened to the Joel I knew when we were kids huh?"

"He grew up," Joel stated with a glare, "and sooner or later, you're going to have to too. Boss or not, there are images we have to keep."

"Well you know what? I don't even want to be the stupid Vongola boss. So you can take this ring and shove it too. Ugh...Errr." Cain struggled to take the ring off of his finger but, for some reason, it seemed to be stuck. Not that it mattered much, for soon his efforts would be halted.


The area grew silent. No one had expected to see what they had just saw. Not even Joel expected it. Though, expected or not, there was a red mark currently on Cains face, and Joel's hand was crossed. Yes. It happened. With a fast movement and not thinking at the time, Joel had smacked Cain across his face. He only kept his shocked look for a while before going back to his natural frown. "Hmph. We'll talk about this later," He said looking at the boy who was still in shock. "We'll also have a talk," he then said to Namine before walking away.

Cain, on the other hand, had different plans. As soon as Joel began to turn away, he rand for him and tackled him down to the ground. Though, because of the mans size he was quickly put on his own back. Of course, he got one fist across Joel's face before the man held his arms down. His tried moving his feet under the man, sparks following them. Joel couldn't believe he was going to try using his flame against him, but just in case his beliefs were for naught, he flashed to the side of Cain, who quickly got back on his feet ready to attack Joel once more.

"Cain. You should stop," Joel said calmly, nodding slightly to a crowd of people staring at them. "Now's not the time."

With that said, Cain had to admit the man had a point, but also didn't want to stop fighting him. Though, even he knew that this was an important event and decided to walk away. Well, not only walk away, but leave the room entirely.

One person tried to walk up to Joel and discuss what had just happened, but stopped in his tracks after being glared at by the man. "Continue the party," He said rubbing his cheek, giving a slight smile towards how hard the kid had hit him.

The setting changes from earth to Vongola Headquarters in Japan

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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Sora Rizzo

After parting ways with Miyamoto Keiko, Sora went to go change into his normal attire and grab his skateboard that he left outside. "It feels sooooooooo good to be out of that godforsaken suit! Now I just need to make sure Alastor doesn't see me," he yelled out. He began entering the Vongola Headquarters again.

"Sir, do you have any ID? You're not dressed for this affair?" a security officer asked.

He made eye contact with Sora, "Welcome Sir Sora, the skateboarding champion!"

"Who am I better than?" Sora asked.

"Tony Hawk of course! Please proceed sir!" exclaimed the officer.

This pattern of ID questioning with officers continued to happen on his way to headquarters, they made eye contact, let him through, no issue, no problem. Walking into room where the Vongola affair was located, he thought about Miyamoto again. 'Ah why do I have to fight a pretty girl? That's not fair! I mean, she's about my height, tan skin, and,' he continued these thoughts while blushing. However, a sight before Sora's eyes caused him to stop his train of thought and lead him to immediate shock.

It was Namine Gokudera, Vongola Guardian of Storm walking directly towards Flandre. 'Oh my God! Flandre will kill her! Sora begun speed walking in her direction and he saw Flandre glance side to side looking for the other Rizzo's, but Sora was too late. Nami opened her mouth to talk to her. 'Now Flandre, please don't attack her yet, please don't slice her up,' he slowly chanted to himself. To his surprise, Flandre kept her composure and conversed with Namine. 'Whew, that went well,' he thought.

He then saw the UniDecimo take the Mic from Namine and say into the mic, "Yes. Hello again. So it's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can shove it up your..." and the Mic was taken.

Sora chuckled at this and said, "Now that's my kind of guy. I'd do something like that if Alastor wasn't here. I heard the Vongola head skates too, doubt he could beat my skateboarding skills though."

SMACK!!! silence filled the room after witnessing the event between the Vongolas. 'I'll just ease my way over here,' he thought. He saw this opportunity while everyone was focused on Cain, and Joel to stealthy position himself closer to the crowd near the stage where the remaining Vongola guardians were located.



Nami Gokudera

"My name is Flandre, but I wouldn't mind being called Flan," replied the girl in the wheelchair.

"Alright, nice to meet you Flan!" exclaimed Nami as she begun writing Flan on the CD cover.

Nami extended her right hand to give Flandre the CD.

"You have a very nice ring, Nami. I'd love to have a ring just like yours, Nami. Forgive me if I try to take it, Nami."

For a moment, Nami paused looked directly into her amber eyes. She was smiling as if she was joking, but the look in her eyes and the repetition of her name 'Nami' made her seem completely serious. Nami then thought: 'Okay, that is pretty weird. I'm sure she meant that as a compliment somehow.'

Nami put on an false idol smile and said, "Heh heh, you're a funny one Flan. Thanks for the compliment. I can't give you mine, but I'm sure there's others rings out there."

Nami handed her the CD, but before she was able to turn around to head back on stage she heard, "Hey. Let me see that Mic again for a sec."

She winked and said, "Of course Cain!"

"Yes. Hello again. So it's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can go shove it up your....."

"What are you doing?" asked Joel as he took the Mic away.

Nami chuckled at this. 'Boys will be boys,' she thought, but then it begun to escalate between Joel and Cain.


Nami saw the red mark on Cain's face, and Joel standing above him. She silently prayed that it wouldn't continue. "Hmph. We'll talk about this later," said Joel to Cain. "We'll also have a talk," Joel told Nami.

An angry expression was shown on her face. "That was a bit much Joel!" exclaimed Nami forgetting that she was at this affair. Cain, then tackled Joel, they went back and forth while Nami watch them thinking about had badly they all looked this moment. Eventually they both regained their senses and stopped.

Nami was tempted to an extent to follow Cain after he stormed out, but after she heard Joel say, "Continue the party," to a man approaching him. She then realized that the next best move would be to do damage control at this affair instead of heading back to a stage without the Vongola UniDecimo. There is now a pretty tense environment in the room for the attendees after witnessing such an event so she decided that as an idol and Vongola Guardian, she should be able to calm the crowd.

"Attention everyone!" she yelled with her announcer/singer voice while putting on the biggest of smiles. "We will be continuing with Shaji Ai's presentation! Would you please give a round of applause and your attention towards the stage!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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Accepting the CD with an outstretched hand, Flandre examined it in her hand. She held the edges by her fingertips, but experimented by putting her index finger through the hole in the middle like a doughnut. "Heh heh, you're a funny one Flan. Thanks for the compliment. I can't give you mine, but I'm sure there's others rings out there." Flandre looked back up at Nami to return a smile of gratitude, but frowned as soon as she saw hers. A false sort of smile she recognized all to well, the kind one put on the faces of children's dolls. This threatening frown, however, was quickly replaced with a someone sinister narrow-eyed grin. "Indeed, Nami..." she mumbled.

Flandre continued to examine the delicate CD with care, as if she were examining a jewel, but experimented with it as if it were a toy she didn't know how to use. Such a nice girl. She couldn't wait to play around with her, perhaps a little more than roughly. She'd have to really bring out the potential the toy had, even if she had to break it, if she wanted to experience her expression.

Yet for some reason, a tiny voice inside Flandre spoke up, a voice she didn't recognize. It screamed Wrong! Flandre ignored it entirely.

Ai, though did not show it at all, did not approve of Cain's behavior. What sparked it, Ai wasn't really aware, as Ai had always made the basic assumption that anything a Vongola ring bearer does will be for what they believe is beneficial toward the family or their goals, not that even the guardians, with the exception of Ai, really knew what their intentions were. She decided at some point it would be critical that she brought the guardians and the boss up to speed. In fact, she wasn't entirely aware about what they all knew about her and wondered if any of them were even aware that she was an alien.

Although, the lightning guardian, Joel, seemed to be more sensible toward the situation and attempted to stop the boss from offending a lot of people. His course of action when he felt it was out of hand, however, was questionable, yet Ai didn't think she had the right to question a human's judgement of justification. It seemed to be a rather vague concept that decided what actions may be taken against somebody depending on their own. Certainly, humans didn't have a natural sense for what is essentially a form a karma, Ai would know, having found ways to use the human body that most humans don't know of, like the ability to slow one's heartbeat, something a famous hitman known as "Moretti the Murdered" was fabled to be able to do. Either way, Ai decided that because Joel appeared more sensible that what he did was justified, at least to him, and in the future he will be easier to consult. Sensible, logical people were people that Ai was used to working with, especially because she considered herself the most sensible and logical.

Ai continued to stand as still as a statue on the stage. Only her third eye, cloaked only through illusion, was darting around all over the place. It looked toward the sun and cloud guardians, perhaps deciding by their actions or reactions if they were sensible and logical. Ai then looked toward the storm guardian. "Attention everyone!" she said, drawing the attention of the uneasy crowd "We will be continuing with Shaji Ai's presentation! Would you please give a round of applause and your attention towards the stage!" Another sensible person, noted. Ai wondered if the boss was the only insensible one. It was certainly possible, but unlike her, he couldn't be replaced so easily. Ai, taking the center of the stage, waited until the crowd settled again.

Her eyes swept across the room. Ai had been identifying whom the possible threats were, the Rizzo family, and identified five whom grouped together. Along with the man, Alastor, there had been a younger one whom was very similar, siblings or possibly the same person if time travel was considered. With him was a boy, younger than this body of hers, a young man with short blonde hair and a girl with jet black hair and a serious expression. There may have been more, maybe half, twice or three times as many, yet Ai had not identified them. She did pay some attention a young woman eyeballing her from a balcony (not that she saw her with her own two eyes) rather expectantly. Ai wasn't aware of any particular reason why she was so special to other people, at least compared to the other guardians. The fact that she was probably the youngest meant nothing to her. The young woman must have some sort of special intel, at least on her true identity.

Ai was mostly worrying about (or at least what pattern of thinking was equivalent to worrying) when the Rizzo's would make their attack, which would likely be for the rings. Ai was thinking it may have been while they were together, seeing as they were apart before, yet now she was realizing it was probably better for them to stay together as they may have been easier to pick off while they were apart. Maybe they hadn't attacked earlier to confirm their targets. By that logic, there had to be at least seven of them, and she picked out five, six if balcony woman was included. Whether they were mobilizing into some sort of pre-planned position or not, Ai couldn't tell. She could only continue as normal until it did happen. Unfortunately, she hadn't the opportunity to warn the boss and the other guardians yet, but perhaps she would when she was finished.

The room began to darken as images began to project behind her. Once Ai had the full attention on herself, she began to speak quite automatically, and unfortunately, uninterestingly. Images, diagrams and words appeared behind her in relation to her speech.

"I thank the storm guardian Namine for the transition and I thank the audience for your patience and your attention. As we have announced, we will be revealing our new field in technology of which we hope you will all heavily invest in, for the good of not just yourselves, but all of humankind."

"An old philosopher had once thought that everything in the universe, including the human body, was made up of fire, water, wind and earth. In theory, the human body had the ability to make use of all four inside themselves. While we have proven to consist mostly of water, produce our own wind and give and gain nutrients from the Earth, we've not proven the ability to utilize fire within ourselves. This philosopher, of course, has been proven wrong in this way, yet what Vongola's scientists have uncovered a way to create a flame out of sheer will, as if it were magic. Not only have we learned the properties of the flame, but we have learned how to harness its energy, an energy that has the ability to alter normal laws of conservation of energy and the ability to manipulate mass in mysterious ways."

Ai then went into a long visually-aided presentation, filled with diagrams and photos of tests and mathematical formulas about how the emotional impulses created by will or ambition created a special surge in the 'wavelength' in a person's body, similar the chi, and can be used in conjunction with a device like a ring to emit a special flame. The test photos were made up, of course, considering the Vongola had been working on this technology for decades, they just needed to give the appearance that it was a completely new concept, the concept of deathperation flames, so people wouldn't be suspicious about why they would keep such a groundbreaking technology to themselves. Of course, anybody from the mafia would be able to recognize that it was all false, but the Vongola remained extremely influential in the mafia, as it always had.

Ai explained all about the different types of flames and their properties, along with more photos, stuff that any hitman seemed to be required to know to survive in the underground. She got into the concept of how the rings worked, as they were proven to be the easiest, most effective and most convenient way to project the flames and how the "purity" of a flame changed depending on the quality of the ring and the strength of the user's resolve.

"Yet, it is possible that there are flames beyond the ones we've discovered. Because the possibilities for different possible flame types are too vast to calculate, we based the names of the seven flames we've discovered so far on the Sky. These flames also have connections with the Guardians the Vongola's pride is in, as it is their rings that have been discovered to produce the purest of each flame.

Then, Ai got into box weapons. She claimed that Vongola scientists had invented and gave credit only to one of the original inventors, Koenig. This too, was required. Ai explained exactly how the exotic energy created from deathperation flames can be used to fuel special anti-mass converters from strange to regular matter regardless of mass or density and how it can only be kept working while the flames continued to combust and how even complex chemical patterns could be replicated in strange mass, including simple workings of the brains of animals. Ai then explained all about different kinds of box weapons they've been working on, such as animal boxes, battery boxes, storage boxes and special flame-based tools and "box-tools", continually stressing upon the various possibilities for purposes, yet putting extremely little emphasis on ways they could be used to harm. Humans are extremely against a new form of science if it is developed for the sake of creating deadly new weapons, yet they often ended up creating weapons using new technologies anyhow, such as nuclear fission in the past used for both energy production and deadly toxic bombs. That was their goal.

"And now," Ai said, yet she didn't change her tone of voice to indicate the presentation would go in a different direction, "I shall now demonstrate the use of deathperation flames and box tools.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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"Western sounds good. But first, we have a presentation to attend to." Fredrick was rendered nonplussed by her acceptance of his offer. All he could do was stare, partly in shock and partly in disbelief, at the beauty before him.

Was this real life, or was he just imagining this?

Despite Serlina’s helpful hints, he still couldn’t fully wrap his mind around the fact that she’d actually accepted. She said yes! It got to the point where Serlina had to forcefully nod Fred’s head for him in response, which made an awkward situation even more so. Not waiting around for a verbal reply, Eri made her way away from him and through the crowd as smoothly as melted chocolate. He watched her go, his eyes swaying and bouncing as he nervously gazed after her.

Cain’s voice snapped him out of his trance-like torpor, rolling across the room like a lion’s roar.

”Without further ado, I'd like to invite all the family guardians to the stand."

Oh. So that’s why Eri made her way forward. Doh.

“Go follow her, Fred!” Came Serlina’s high-pitched voice inside of his head, causing him to flinch in surprise. “You’re supposed to be up there!”

“But…” Fredrick took a step forward, but then froze, eyeing the stage. Most of the other guardians had made their way to stand behind Cain. Wouldn’t it look really bad if he were one of the last ones to walk on stage? In front of all these people… How humiliating…

“Fred. Hey!”

Fredrick looked from side to side as furtively as he dared. Was everyone looking at him? Did they all know he was supposed to be up there right now? He sighed, slinking back into the crowd despite the quivering blue light that buzzed around his head in staunch protest.

Of course they knew.

Whole minutes passed with Fredrick standing amidst the crowd, gazing up at the stage. Even Serlina had become silent. Cain and the others continued to take turns speaking on stage. Even Nami, in all her pop-star glory, eventually made her way up. It wasn’t long before she had the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand, tossing things this way and that. Still, despite his best efforts, Fredrick couldn’t find the courage to step up. It was just too much. Maybe tomorrow. He thought, reassuring himself.

Suddenly, Cain hopped off stage, though Fredrick couldn’t through the thickets of the crowd and quickly lost sight of him. Suddenly:

"Yes. Hello again. So It's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can go shove it up your—"

Fredrick slapped his hands over his ears, his face turning slightly red. No Cain, no! Don’t say it! He could only imagine the horrified look on the crowd’s faces. It just made him want to huddle up and disappear from the room entirely. After a few seconds of deafening silence, Fredrick sighed in sweet relief. Judging by how quickly Joel had flashed off stage, he must’ve stopped Cain before he said something mean. Good. Good!

”Fredrick,” came that voice in his head again. Serlina. He looked over to his left and saw her fluttering about. Instead of meeting her eye, he looked down at his shoes.

“Y-yes?” He muttered dejectedly.

“They need you up there, you know.” At the mention of his friends needing him, Fredrick’s ears perked up, but he didn’t otherwise move. He still stared down at his shoes. ”Joel sure could use your help with Cain,” Serlina continued, fluttering about his head like an orbiting moon. “Everyone knows you’re the best at calming the boss down.” Slowly but surely, a steely sense of confidence began to build in Fredrick’s chest in tune with her words. Like an all-encompassing warmth, it surged through him, uplifted him, empowered him. He raised his head, a newly confident sheen radiating from his eyes.

His friends needed his help, and he would not let them down!


Fredrick paused mid-step, the sound reverberating throughout the entire complex, as loud and piercing as a hellfire missile. Without wasting another second, Serlina shot up into the air, overlooking the crowd. After a moment, she returned to Fredrick’s side.

“What happened?”
“Cain!” She hissed, keeping her voice down.
“What?” Fredrick said, his newly mastered confidence ebbing. He could hardly hear her.
“Cain!” She bellowed in his head. “Joel just slapped Cain! In front of everyone! And now they’re fighting!”

Fredrick’s eyes grew wide. Seems he was too late… but perhaps he could still be of some assistance!

Taking the initiative, Fredrick began moving through the crowd, uttering “excuse me” and “sorry” at every turn as Serlina directed him towards his comrades. Unfortunately, his efforts were cut short when he bumped into someone.

A surge of fear rushed through him as he turned to apologize.

“Sorry!” He exclaimed in a hushed voice. “I wasn’t looking where…” Fredrick’s voice trailed off as he noted the absence of a person. There was no one in front of him. Then what did I bump into?

”Look down!” Serlina commanded in his mind. He complied, looking down to see a very peeved child staring back up at him. If looks could kill, this kid would have not only massacred poor Fredrick, but his entire ancestry as well.


“Uh, I’m really really sorry about that,” he said, bowing at the waist as deeply as he could manage while being cramped by the crowd. “Are you okay?”

The child, a boy of around 12 or 13, simply stared. He was dressed in a sharp little suit, though the look was ruined by his dress shirt, which wasn’t tucked in and hung lazily out from the bottom of his suit jacket. The kid had the whole “preppy” vibe going for him, with stringy black hair that looked like it’d been neatly combed and parted by his mother.

“Hey, douchebag,” the kid said accusatorily, giving Fredrick a slight shove after curtly straightening his collar with both hands. “Do you know who I am? Are you trying to die? Watch where the fuck you’re going.” The obscene language flowed from his mouth in an almost natural rhythm.

Fredrick just stood there, utterly flabbergasted and unsure how to respond.


Alastor unfurled his hands from behind his back, instead placing them inside his pockets. "As for the rest of us," he began, glancing over at Donovan. "Shall we begin?"

Donovan nodded in response, his grin now more of a cocky smirk, mirroring Alastor’s. Of all the Rizzos, Donovan’s entrance was about to be the most epic. He opened his mouth to answer Alastor’s question, but stopped when he noticed, peripherally, Trevor’s face. The boy was staring at a girl around Donovan’s own age who’d just taken the stage. “One sec,” Donovan said to Alastor, taking a knee and coming eye-level with Trevor.

If Trevor noticed him, he didn’t act like it. He just kept staring at the girl.

“Who’s that?” Donovan asked with genuine curiosity, referring to the object of Trevor’s interest. From the way she so easily moved through the crowd to the stage, she had to be one of the Vongola… probably. Again, he didn’t really pay attention during the briefing.

“The Vongola Storm guardian Namine ‘The Tempest’ Gokudera, also known Tempest from the from the contemporaneously acclaimed pop band ‘Blast of Tempest’. Daughter of Hayato Gokudera and inheritor of the Systema C.A.I. Five feet seven inches in height, one-hundred and twenty pounds, brown eyes, sometimes likes to wear glasses. Sixteen years old at this point in time—”

Donovan interrupted Trevor by putting his hand on the boy’s head, forcing him to bow somewhat. He followed by giving Trevor his best grin.

“You wanna get an autograph, don’tcha?”
Trevor shook his head slowly. “No.” His tone was neutral.
Donovan’s grin widened. “Are you sure?”
Trevor nodded. “Yes.”

Donovan sighed in mock exasperation, standing and taking a step back. Knowing Trevor, he probably didn’t want to look like a little kid in front of Alastor. “Oh well, it’d be a shame if you missed out,” he said teasingly.

Though it wouldn’t have been noticeable to an observer outside of the family, Donovan knew better than anyone when Trevor was holding back. The boy began shifting his weight from foot to foot ever so slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but Donovan caught it.

And, apparently, so did Alastor. The Rizzo boss nudged Trevor onward with his hand. Trevor stumbled forward a step, looking up at Alastor with an eyebrow raised.

“Past, present, and future, you always have a knack for acquiring the most peculiar of interests, Trevor.” He said the words with certain lightheartedness, as if he always expected this to happen. Alastor didn’t make eye contact with the boy, still looking towards the stage, but he did make a brief gesture with his chin, motioning towards the Vongola girl. “Make it very quick.”

Donovan nodded in tacit approval.

Sure, the younger image of Alastor might’ve been a little ass, but the current Alastor—the real one—wasn’t just his boss, he was one of his best friends. Within this elder image of the Space flame guardian, Donovan saw him. He saw his boss. He saw a friend. But more than that, he saw what his friend would one day grow up to become, and it wasn’t too shabby.

Donovan smirked as he returned his sights to Trevor, who was walking off at a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, as if he wasn’t resisting the urge to run full tilt to where the Vongola Storm guardian currently stood.

It was a few minutes before either of the Rizzo guardians spoke, with Donovan breaking the silence. “So… are we waiting for something specific?”

“Not specifically,” Alastor said, looking over his shoulder in a preoccupied fashion, his voice taking on a moderately ominous tone. “The arrival of the Tempest seems to have disturbed things. Some of the Vongola guardians are leaving the stage and moving about most erratically. I don’t like it.”

Donovan followed Alastor’s gaze, his eyes landing on the Vongola Sky guardian, who was standing next to Trevor’s Storm celebrity and... was that Flandre?!

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Donovan asked jovially, barely stifling a chuckle. Hopefully the wheelchair-bound Flandre didn’t start things off prematurely.

Alastor was silent for a moment, his eyes landing briefly on Miku before facing forward again. “Maybe this shouldn’t be as surprising as it is, but this isn’t how things went in the book.”

Donovan raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Huh?”

“This place. This time. These Vongolas and their movements.” Alastor made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Everything pretty much followed the history books of your timeline, give or take a few things, until this moment.”

Donovan gasped in sudden understanding, his countenance somewhat troubled. He remembered being briefed by the head of the Rizzo family—Alastor’s father—back in the future, before the real Alastor shepherded them all backwards a good hundred years. Upon arrival, Donovan and his fellow guardians would be tasked with appropriating the Vongola rings, but they would not have much in the way of time to get it done.


Donovan remembered holding back a bark of laughter during the briefing, lest he embarrass his boss. It was almost like a misnomer, an oxymoron, what the Rizzo head had said. Not enough time? Yeah, right. What is time to a team of badasses that can travel backwards and forward through history at a whim, right?

Wrong, apparently.

The Rizzo guardians were to be sent back to a specific point in time, one that was determined through complex quantum statistical analysis and abstract mathematical computations performed by future AI supercomputers. The AIs all came to the same conclusion: the Rizzo guardians had a very small window in space-time with which to divest the Vongolas of their rings before their foreign presence so deep in the past began to drastically impact the timeline and all of space-time in general. Donovan was pretty sure it was the reason Alastor forbade them from just killing the Vongolas—it’d have an unpredictable effect on the timeline.

Which is why what Alastor said was so troubling.

“Are we too late?” Donovan asked. “Did we already fail?”

“I do not believe so,” he responded, looking around the room. He began making eye contact with the various Rizzos positioned around the room. “However, we should make haste. The longer we remain without possession of the Vongola rings, the direr the prospect of your future becomes—”


Both Alastor and Donovan spun towards the source of the sound. It’d become quiet enough in the room that you could hear a pin drop.

Alastor shook his head in disgust as the Sky Vongola tackled and tussled with the Lightning.

“Woah,” Donovan muttered, his tone underlined with a vein of excitement. “Can we attack them now?”

“No,” he responded as the Sky and Cloud Vongolas made their way out of the convention hall. In the midst of the Vongola’s internal strife, Alastor managed to make peripheral eye contact with Sora, throwing him a disparaging look. The Star guardian had changed out of his sanctioned attire, opting for a miscreant’s apparel. While unappreciated, this, too, was expected. Like the other Rizzos, the Star of this timeline was very similar to the Star guardian of the timeline from whence the elder Alastor hailed. “Not yet. I’d rather they gather together in a group, preferably on the stage. We want to end this quickly, with as few casualties as possible.” Alastor briefly pondered the seemingly dilapidated state of the Vongola famiglia. It was no wonder they ceased to exist half a century from now. “Further,” he continued, “the longer the fight draws on, the more likely it is that we’ll require Trevor to nullify someone’s ultimate attack or final form or what have you. I’m aiming to avoid that if we can,” he said, his eyes darkening. “Lest one of these Vongolas force us to end them.”

For the next several minutes, Donovan chewed on his lower lip, annoyed with the tedium of it all, his cocky grin long since given way to a deep frown. The Vongolas began their presentation, and Donovan was suffering under the grinding boredom and stifling monotony of an infinite array of slides and images and sounds and blah, glancing over at Alastor every now and then for a sign.

The man was like a statue.

It wasn’t until towards the end of the presentation, when the Vongola boss walked back into the room, that Alastor finally acted. Slowly, he raised his arm into the air, and with one loud Space-flame-assisted SNAP! he signaled to his fellow Rizzos:




Hildegarde had a look of absolute horror on her face, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, her stance that of a woman taken aback.

Did that really just happen? Did one of the Vongola really just slap the other, like actors in some cheap soap opera? Really?

When the two guardians started fighting amongst themselves, Hildegarde shook her head. Surely her Alastor was thinking the same thing as she: these Vongolas weren’t looking too good as a familial unit. Still, Hildegarde felt genuine pity for the kid who’d been humiliated by a slap to the face. She was generally fond of kids, and didn’t like seeing them hurt.

Then again, he was technically one of Alastor’s enemies.

Hildegarde removed her gloved hands from her face, instead gripping the railing in front of her with a dainty flair. That’s right, they were enemies of her lover. Their mere existences were an affront to his awesomeness! His mandate of heaven!

How dare they. How dare they! HOW DARE THEY!

After blowing a kiss to Alastor upon making eye contact, Hildegarde returned to leering at the pink-haired girl and her friends standing below. They dared to stand against Alastor. Her Alastor.

The audacity.

Hildegarde leered with enough concentration to lose track of time itself. It was all she could do just to contain her hair-trigger need to defend Alastor’s honor against these primitive savages, her head shaking with indignation. So when she finally heard her lord snap his fingers, the long-awaited signal for action, she came to attention almost immediately.

With a terrible shriek, she spit a ruby-red piece of candy she’d held in her mouth out over the balcony before her. It ignited shortly after contacting the air, surging forward like a ballistic missile to crash amidst the Vongolas on stage below.

And then it exploded. Violently.

Hildegarde popped more candy in her mouth, moving along the length of the balcony like a medieval sentry patrolling a gate, releasing more of the explosive charges from her mouth at her leisure. Her intent was to scatter the assorted Vongola, but despite herself she secretly hoped that she maimed at least one of them. They were Alastor’s enemies, after all.

Especially that pink-haired witch.


Trevor was standing off to the side of the crowd, near the wall, when he heard Alastor’s signal. The snap! reverberated in his ears like a battle cry, though it was a clash he could not partake in. Not this time.

Not that he wanted to, anyway. The Vongola were just as cool as he imagined they’d be.

Trevor took a seat on the floor, maintaining a firm grip on the exclusive disk from Blast of Tempest, autographed by Tempest herself. He didn’t want it damaged by what was coming next.

As if on cue, the wall directly to Trevor’s left exploded, a large dark-red ball hurtling through it at an unholy speed. Several other walls around the hall exploded inwards with similar results, raining debris down upon the unsuspecting crowd.

Trevor recognized them as Donovan’s deceptively dangerous iron-core Palla, his weapons of choice for inflicting what he always called “big damage”. The Palla closest to Trevor bounced off an empty chair, flattening it like a pancake and increasing its own velocity in the process. Another Palla nearly devastated a poor businesswoman, though the ball seemed to alter its own trajectory mid-flight, sparing her life.

It appeared that Donovan took Alastor’s “no casualties” command pretty seriously, though Trevor knew he didn’t like killing innocents anyway.

Although the reaction was slightly delayed, the grand crescendo of shouted curses and panicked screaming began in full as people started running about. Simultaneously, multiple explosions rang out about the stage area, rocking the entire building and blanketing the immediate zone in a thick black smoke. The overhead lights flickered, many of them shattering entirely, raining glass down upon the panicked audience members below.

Trevor didn’t even have to guess who was responsible for that one.

The combined offensive from the Palla and the sustained explosive rounds raining down upon the stage from above seemed to have a dilapidating effect on the structural integrity of the building, with hairline fractures appearing along various primary support beams and across wide stretches of the floor.

Trevor coughed softly, pulling his undershirt up to cover his nose and mouth like a filter as people scurried about. The smoke from the stage explosions had begun to permeate the area around him, but he didn’t mind it too much.

His only mission now was to stay out of the way.

The setting changes from vongola-headquarters-in-japan to Earth


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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Sora Rizzo


Alastor gave the signal. It was time to attack. Sora first made eye contact with Miku, then darted off.

Sora had two objectives at this moment and began running towards the first, the Vongola Guardian of the Cloud, Murasaki Eri. He saw her walking back with the Cain and used this moment to catch her off guard before Donovan began.

He looked her directly in the eye and said, "Hello there, Vongola Guardian of Cloud. I'd like you to meet my Rizzo friend, Miku. She's a sweet girl."

He ran off afterwards literally disappearing with the wind just as Cain and everyone else around her would except for one person, Miku. It was an illusion set for her and all that remained within her sight was the Rizzo Guardian of the Comet, Miku "Elizabeth" Rizzo. Both of these guardians could only see each other in this world as if no one else was there. By sight, it no longer appeared as the Vongola Headquarters, but instead an outlandish world.

(OOC: Feel free to describe the world/illusion as you'd like if you want to.)

After setting Miku up, he dashed towards his target, Miyamoto Keiko. With almost perfect timing, Donovan's iron-core Palla rained destruction on the walls of the headquarters. They bounced off the walls taking no casualties to the people, but causing chaos and panic through the process. He looked around and saw the looks on the people's faces running in fear, the shock on the Vongola's faces. 'This is the right thing to do....right? Of course, it's for the future,' he thought while he swallowed his doubts. He spotted his target, Miyamoto Keiko who he previously met.

"Take this Miyamoto!" he yelled directly at her for her attention. Upon locking eyes, the area around both of them changed. A boxing arena caged match surrounded them.

"So I heard you like close ranged fighting?" Sora smirked, "It's my specialty as well. Once again, let me reintroduce myself, I'm Sora Rizzo, Rizzo Guardian of the Star." He says with his eyes filled with one star respectively. "Now I'll be needing that Sun ring of yours."


"In this corner is the bright star, 5'9 and illusion expert! SORA RIZZO!" says an overhead announcer.

The crowd cheers with applause.

"In this corner, the shining star herself, 5'8, blue eyes and a beautiful physique. The champ herself! Miyamoto Keiko!" says the announcer.


He ran up directly towards her with a flying roundhouse kick.

Nami Gokudera

After Shaji's presentation, Nami was glad to see Eri and Cain walking back into the area. The attendees of this event have calmed down and everything seemed to hit status quo until the unexpected occurred.


Nami heard an usually loud snap from a distance. Thinking nothing of it, she continued walking on until one bouncing iron ball came through the window. A few more accompanied this bouncing iron ball then they all started to rapidly speed up. As the momentum increased, they became more destructive and deadly. They busted the walls of the building, and begun to injure the civilians at this event.

"Everyone the emergency exit are this way!" she yelled and pointed for their safety.

Nami pulled out a box weapon, 'I've got to act quick!' She infused a storm flame in her ring, placed it inside a box, a a swarm of mockingbirds came out.
She begun singing a song and the mockingbirds surrounded her.

"Cambio Form!"

As the birds flew around her, she performed an almost sailor moon type transformation. The light produced by the sky flame mockingbirds swiftly around her until she was coated in a suit of armor. This armor had jet pack like boosters around her arms and legs. She begun singing to power her suit and dashed around deflecting the iron rubber balls from hitting civilians while they escaped. It was painful to stop them, but their safety and escape was more important at the moment. At that moment it hit her, 'What about Flan?!' She quickly looked around in panic to find her new wheelchair bound friend. Then she spotted her, remaining in the same position still holding her same smile and piercing eyes. Almost as if it was planned, one iron ball headed directly towards her, "I'll help you out Flan!" Nami stepped directly in front of Flan, punched the iron ball out of the way as it bounced in another direction. "Whew, that was pretty close. Are you alright Flan?" she asked.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola
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#, as written by Miyer
Miku 'Elizabeth' Rizzo

Elizabeth shifted her head slightly to look at the elder alaster, already moving when she heard him snap his fingers and the attack had begun. She began to make her way towards the cloud guardian, her eye shifting to met Sora's. She paused a few feet away from the group of people, watching patiently as Sora cast his illusion. Somewhere in there back of her mind, Miku registered the fact that Murasaki Eri had been standing next to Cain before it was quickly cast aside as irrelevant by her colder counter part.

A shifting in color, as people began to vanish and Sora's illusion began to fill Elizabeth's vision along with Eri's lone figure. The space was desolate and endless, with both the land and sky continuing unbroken for mile on end. A few jaguars rocks lay scattered here and there, pointing up towards the sky. The sky itself held a strange purple glow, becoming darker as it spread out from a center point of bright violet. The ground had a black and white checkered pattern making the whole world seem like something out of wonderland. A cooling breeze wiped across the strange plain and the area sat in unbroken silence.

It was perfect for battle. Wide, open spaces allowed for easy movement and direct attacks though the lack of hiding and shields would prove a problem if she was ever forced onto the defensive. She would need to go on the defensive at least for the first half of the battle. Elizabeth didn't like rushing into a fight with no strategy or direction and often preferred to stay back and wait for her opponent to make a mistake or tier themselves out. What she did know of the cloud guardian, it would seem the girl relied heavily on her offensive attacks with large range attacks and endurance. Major weaknesses would be the fact that her attacks wouldn't be that powerful due to the area they cover as well as the fact that despite the heavy endurance that helps her lack of defense, the girl still held a weak defense which could prove her downfall.

The fact that she drew her endurance from other flames suggested it would be wise to avoid the use of the comet flame. Unlike most, Elizabeth held no heavy requirement on her flame and was more then capable with her box weapon and her standard katana for close attacks.

The key to winning this battle was simply the fact that Elizabeth had to end it fast. Elizabeth could not endure physically as long as Eri could which meant she needed to find the girls weak point before the battle even truly began.

Finishing her analysis of the girl in front of her, Elizabeth began her slow walk closer to the cloud guardian, her eyes hard and her face stoic as the plain katana fell down to be lightly grasped in her hand. "Shall we.", the question came out as a statement when Elizabeth found herself a few feet away from the cloud guardian. Her voice cold, the wind picking up slightly causing her twin pigtails to wipe around her face and the temperature of the whole world to drop at least 10 degrees.

The setting changes from earth to Vongola Headquarters in Japan

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko
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Murasaki Eri

When Cain gave her a questionable look for a second, Eri could guess what the fool was thinking. She smiled a little at her own private joke.

"You're right. Who am I to deny my family what they need. They need the Sky, so I'll be the Sky for them."

It seemed like he was back to his normal care free self. With his nerves and pride healed he walked with Eri back to the main hall.

"So..... What is this interest you have," he asked out of nowhere.

"Well... since you're curious... I'm a professional cosplayer." she explained, opening the door for Cain and stepping in after him. "Do a couple of photoshoots, earn a bit of money, that sort of thin-"


That loud resounding snap of what was unmistakably fingers reverberated throughout the walls and suddenly chaos ensued. The structure around them began to be damaged by what seemed to be a very small projectile. Before Eri could move to assist the civilians and other famiglias, a brown haired guy suddenly jammed in front of her.

He looked her directly in the eye and said, "Hello there, Vongola Guardian of Cloud. I'd like you to meet my Rizzo friend, Miku. She's a sweet girl."

'What the-' was what Eri could think initially before her entire vision altered, replacing the pandemonium around her with a quiet plain, the sky and the land meeting at the horizon over an incredible distance. The place was empty, safe for a few rocks, pointing straight up at the strange, purple sky that seemed to fade darker and darker as it permeated outwards. Staring down at her feet, she felt as if she was on a chessboard, black and white squares filled the space around her.

'An illusion... Mist Flames? No... this feels different.'

Feeling the presence of another inhabitant in the desolated land, she looked up, staring at the figure ahead of her while a cool breeze swept the land, causing her braided hair to sway about.

What she could only decide upon was that the person that was slowly walking towards her was whom the brown haired man had called 'Miku'. As Miku came closer, Eri recognized the eyes and face of the girl with long black hair worn in pigtails. A face of a very focused fighter, a thought reinforced when a plain katana fell down to be lightly grasped in her hand. When the girl was a few feet away from Eri, she spoke.

"Shall we."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Her voice was cold and it seemed the entire world seemed to react to Miku's words, suddenly dropping several degrees and the winds picking up their pace, whipping Eri's white braids around in contrast to her opponent's dark pigtails.

"I really don't suggest fighting. There're better ways to deal with this." Eri reasoned, holding her hands up, her ring perfectly matching with the sky in this world. "What is it that you want from us?"

Fighting wasn't something that Eri wanted to slip into right now.

Miyamoto Keiko

"Heh. Well I'll just have to put forth more effort on my end then to bring him up. I'll have him surpass you and be gentleman while he's at it," Joel teased. "Though would you be alright with that? Handing over your title as champion?"

"Hah!" Keiko snorted before jabbing a thumb against her chest. "I ain't gonna hand over da title as Champion over tah anyone dat easily, not even if it's da Boss."

She then jabbed a finger at Joel's chest and winked playfully, "Though, I don't mind a lil' competition, so bring 'im up tah mah level if ya can. I'll prove tah da world dat the title rightfully belongs to me. Da cub ain't gonna have anythin' on meh."


Keiko's more sensitive ears quickly picked up the source of the sound and she stared directly at a sharply dressed man with dark hair. Almost in unison, she quickly picked up several different flame 'scents', new ones, one of which was the 'scent' of the guy she previously met, Sora. Something was wrong.

"I KNEW IT!" she burst out in anger, whacking away a stray piece of falling debris caused by a ball that was bouncing around, apparently picking up speed. At first her sensitive eyes managed to keep pace with the ball, watching as the ball seemed to change directions whenever it was going to collide with a civilian.

'Huh... so they're not aimin' ta kill?' she thought, before the ball eventually became too fast for her to track. 'Dammit!'

Moving quickly, Keiko bounded across the room to intercept a falling piece of the ceiling, saving a fearful couple who immediately ran without any thanks.

"If da situation ain't clear enuf, go fer da exit!" she yelled after them, adding, "And YER WELCOME!"

All around her, she saw frightened faces, and immediately felt the need to help them all. Sure, the Sun Guardian was cocky, arrogant and seemed like she could care less about what others thought but when it came to people in distress, she wanted to be the first on the scene to help. This situation was no different. She breathed in deeply and released it with a shout, doing what she did on stage, no mic, just her loud voice working it out.

"EVERYONE OUT! OUT! OUT!" she shouted.

"Take this Miyamoto!"

She instantly locking eyes with the person who called her, staring into the brown eyes of Sora before the area around both of them changed. A boxing arena caged match surrounded them. She stared around the illusionary field before turning a glare at Sora.

'Dis ain't an ordinary illusion.'

"So I heard you like close ranged fighting?" Sora smirked, "It's my specialty as well. Once again, let me reintroduce myself, I'm Sora Rizzo, Rizzo Guardian of the Star." Keiko's eyes immediately saw the stars in his eyes. "Now I'll be needing that Sun ring of yours."


"In this corner is the bright star, 5'9 and illusion expert! SORA RIZZO!" says an overhead announcer that Keiko dismissed immediately along with the applause of what she knew was a non-existent crowd despite the fact that multiple faces were cheering and shouting around her.

"In this corner, the shining star herself, 5'8, blue eyes and a beautiful physique. The champ herself! Miyamoto Keiko!"

Her inside ring instincts were brought to fore and her fist shot up in unison to the announcement.


Sora ran up directly towards her with a flying roundhouse kick that she grabbed hold off, her Sun Flames slowly radiating from her like yellow tendrils of energy. Tossing him aside, her indifferent, stoic, unimpressed face stared him down as she seemed to glow like a sun.

"I knew somethin' was off 'bout ya." she told him, "And tah think dat I found ya a nice person."

One step forward.

"There're multiple lives out there dat could possibly be crushed by fallin' debris while ya trap me inside this illusion." her voice seemed to quiver with rage, and somewhere buried inside it, an unmistakable concern.

Another step forward.

"If ya had a bone tah pick with da Vongola..." she gritted her teeth in anger while her fists tightened, "...don't involve da innocent..."

She launched herself forward into such a perfect pounce, that if one were to look at her, they would see the after-image of a panther behind her. The look on her face was one of pure anger and rage, animalistic, protective rage.


She swung a powerful fist at Sora.


Her opponent rolled away, causing her fist to collide against the caged ring and ripping it apart as Keiko's fist burst through the metal caging. Pulling her fist away, the injured flesh healed instantly, the Sun Flames working their magic as they concentrated on the injured location.

"Da wide sky may encompass da other five flames, but there's a misconception 'bout da last flame. Da Sun lies outta reach from da Sky, in da depths of Space, a Star tah da faraway Universe." she said in a more controlled tone, bouncing about shaking her hands as she prepared to fight.

Readying herself, she got into her fighting stance, her midnight blue hair falling about as she did her signature head bob, "Da Sun will always be da greatest of da Sky Flames, remember dat."

Her eyes seemed to dull out, replaced by zoned out eyes that seemed to be out of focus, yet focused at the same time. Her entire demeanor changed.

"Don't lose yer footing, rabbit." she warned him. "Yer're facing an apex predator."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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"What are you doing here, kid?!" An urbane Vongola mafioso asked, her gun clutched tightly in her grip, barrel pointed downward. Trevor looked at the gun in the woman's hands, and then up at the woman's arms and shoulders, finally coming to rest at the woman's face, staring her dead in the eyes until it became painfully awkward.

"Come on," she said, her voice oozing urgency, as she took a step closer to where Trevor stood. In response, Trevor mirrored the woman's action but in reverse, taking a step backwards and maintaining the distance between them. The mafioso took another step forward. Trevor took another step backwards. They repeated this at least another three times until Trevor's back bumped up against the wall. The woman put her gun away with extreme caution, thinking the boy was afraid of the weapon.

She held out her hand, a warm inviting gesture. "Hey, kid. Come on, it's not safe here." As she spoke, part of the ceiling collapsed behind her, a volley of explosions erupting in the distance. Trevor reacted not to the woman, but to the explosions, removing his suit jacket and wrapping it around his neck, head, and face military style, like a Shemagh. He didn't want to breathe in any of the smoke or debris flying around, and his thin little undershirt wasn't cutting it as a filter. As the pilot of a particularly powerful box weapon, he took his dietary and bodily habits seriously.

Trevor never once broke eye contact with the woman, even as he finished with the jacket. He simply stared at her, his face stolid, his eyes unyielding in intensity. When it looked like she was going to reach out and grab him, Trevor crouched down, as if he were going to take off in a sprint at any moment. At the same time, an inhuman cry rang out across the auditorium, rattling the very walls themselves. The mafioso woman heard it as well, shuddering instinctively. She held up her hands in surrender. "Alright kid, suit yourself. Just get out of here, okay?"

Trevor didn't respond, electing instead to continue staring, his monotonous gray eyes boring into the woman like a drill. She turned and drew her gun again, running off into the thick dusty gloom of smoke and debris. It seemed to him that the Vongola were beginning to recover from the Rizzo's surprise attack, and were organizing their members in an attempt to defend their guardians.

Not like it'd make a difference. Trevor gripped the exclusive disk he received from the Vongola Storm guardian close to his chest, ensuring it would not be damaged by flying debris. The Rizzo were unstoppable, even when they were ordered by their boss to be merciful. A hundred years is a very long time for things to grow and shift and change.

To evolve.

Their technology. Their box weapons. Their flames. The Rizzo were simply the more advanced beings. And it showed now, in this skirmish between the two families. The Vongola were exactly as the history books described them to be. They were... Trevor looked down at the disk held to his chest, sighing softly through his nose. They were pretty cool to meet in person, but weren't at all the legends they've come to be known as back in the future. Not yet.

They were just—

A sound like an inbound missile caused Trevor's ears to perk up. He'd heard this sound too many times before as a frontline soldier in the war against the invaders. It was like a high-pitched whine that got deeper and deeper until—BOOM!

Something smashed into the wall a dozen or so meters from where Trevor stood, kicking up yet another plume of dirt and debris that rolled over the area like a tidal wave. The boy shielded his face with his forearm, averting his eyes as the smoggy cloud overtook him. Trevor rolled out of the smog, coughing lightly. Clear on the other side of the auditorium—practically an archaic American football field away from where Trevor currently stood—he made out the silhouette of Flandre, the Rizzo Dark Matter guardian. Judging by the damage to the wall behind her and the look of her gear, it would seem that a Newtonian reaction had occurred between her and...

Trevor looked to his right, at the thing that crash landed into the wall, but only saw a mound of rubble. As the translucent dust cloud cleared, he noticed movement. Suddenly, the rubble exploded, pulverized by whatever was trying to free itself from the crushing pile of cement chunks and fragmented rebar. Out from the debris crawled what Trevor could only describe as a monster, its body shrouded in an inky red-tipped frenetic blackness that ebbed and flowed chaotically, like... like... was that a flame?

The monster glanced to the left and then to the right in quick furious succession before its beady red eyes landed on the boy. Concurrently, Trevor recognized the beast. The contour of its body, the shape of its face, the length of its arms and legs, its height, it's hair... was this Namine 'The Tempest' Gokudera? Was this the Vongola Storm guardian?

Trevor frowned slightly, attempting to further process what he saw, but was jolted from his thoughts when the monster unleashed a primal shriek in his direction, the noise a deafening dissonance that shattered any semblance of thought and focus. All he could do in response was cover his ears with his hands, screwing his eyes shut.

The auditory attack lasted for what seemed like an eternity before finally subsiding. "Trevor, watch out!" came the faint echo of a distant yet familiar voice, but the boy failed to register the sound on account of the high-pitched chime ringing in his ears—an aftereffect of his eardrums nearly rupturing. Trevor righted himself, slowly opening his eyes and fighting back the sensation of vertigo, his vision blurry. Before him was a flame monster, a dark demon, a being of wrath. It was something that wasn't a Vongola ability... something that was never in any of the history books.

Immediately, a new sensation filled his head—a comfortably familiar one. His box weapon, known in the future as the Conflagration or "C" Frame—a tiny black cube that hung from a bracelet on his wrist—had detected its wearer's physical and psychological stress. It was attempting to power itself on. Initially, Trevor embraced the sensation, eager to partake in the promise of power, protection, and familiarity that the C-Frame offered, but stopped just short of bringing it out. Alastor's order came to the forefront of his conscious mind, dampening his urge to use the weapon. His orders were to stay put. He was not to reveal the existence of the C-Frame. He was not to engage any of the Vongola guardians. He was not to kill.

This internal conflict caused Trevor to hesitate, and in that hesitation the flame monster attacked, skittering forward on all fours in the most alien manner conceivable. Trevor held out his hand, palm facing his attacker, the universal symbol for "stop". He used his other hand to clutch the disk to his chest. From there, things began to move in extremely slow motion for the boy, his mind racing, his heart pounding on his chest. An acrid smell filled his nostrils—the smell of foreign earth, singed metal, and smoldering bodies. The vivid sounds of machines—the human defenders, frames, similar in design to his own C-Frame—roaring to life overtook his ears, drowning out the incessant ringing. Glancing down at his feet, the ground on which he stood was not the splintered ruins of some Vongola facility, but consisted of red clay-like sand.

He instantly knew where he was. The battle of Olympus Mons. Mars.

"Incoming!" came a commanding voice. "Hold!" The words seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

Looking back up, what Trevor saw rushing at him now was not a raging flame beast, but a hostile enemy alien armor, its body like a mass of black and gunmetal tentacles in a shape vaguely resembling that of a human being's, its various parts in constant flux, shifting and turning in on themselves at odd intervals. The enemy armor was oozing maroon flame, its jagged metal teeth bared with intent to kill.

And again it screamed at him, though this time the sound came out as more of an electronic reverberation, like a tone from one of those old dial-up modems.

Upon laying eyes on the enemy armor, Trevor felt something pierce through the numbness of his continued existence: vulnerability. He felt like his life and the lives of his friends, his family, were in grave danger. He felt it deep in the core of his being, like a hand clenching his heart, yet he felt as if he had no control over what was happening before him. He had no control. He could only watch.

Just like that day.

The enemy armor reared up, its foremost tentacles reconfiguring themselves into jagged blades, the deep maroon flames of Quasar coalescing into a fine line along the blades' edges. Immediately, the creature neutralized the two of the human frames that stood to either side of Trevor, stabbing the machines straight through their chest compartments. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know that the pilots were killed in the resulting Quasar-fueled explosions. Trevor stood there, a frozen pilot, as the enemy armor spun and skittered, targeting him, the bizarre machinations of its armor proving both eerily enthralling and utterly terrifying.

The alien's flaming blade reached him, punching through his chest like a fist through tissue paper.

Trevor bowed his head, looking down at where the mass of tentacles had torn through his shirt and into his body. Blood pooled at the edge of his lips. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. He could barely move. It was as if he were drowning in molasses. Or the cruor of his fallen comrades. Darkness licked at the edges of his vision, quickly gaining ground until his world faded entirely to black, the finality of it all settling across his shoulders like a dense blanket, sealing his fate.

And then someone called his name.


"You!" Keiko screamed at the man, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!!"

Fredrick gave her a perplexed gaze, "Umm... Keiko?"

She rammed the man to the ground, headbutted him, screamed at him, and even dug her nails into his arms. Fredrick stood in awe of Keiko's rage. She's hurting him. I must save him! That's what Serlina would say! he thought, hyping himself up. He looked down at his arm where Serlina rested, sealing his wound with what remained of her body. Without the purified flame produced by the stolen Rain ring, he wasn't sure how long she'd last outside of the box. The mere notion of her not fluttering about and chattering in his mind at her leisure was like peering over the cliff and into an endless abyss of loneliness, and it scared him. Scared him more than anything had ever scared him in his entire life.

"UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!" Keiko screamed, as if she were inspired by the howls of Flandre's enemy.

Tears started to shape in his eyes as he saw Kieko beating the poor man in a berserk fury. Despite the melancholy that tugged at him, Fredrick knew he had a duty—an obligation!—to make sure his friend didn't beat up other people randomly. "Keiko, No!" he yelled, running up behind her and throwing his arms around her shoulders. He interlocked his wrists in an attempted bear hug, injecting into his friend whatever remained of his quickly diminishing stores of Rain flame with the hope that the flame's tranquility attribute would pacify her. "Please, Stop it Keiko! You're hurting him!"

Sora looked at the rampant attacks of this era's "apex predator". Hmmm, didn't expect her to go wild like that... I'll really have to tone down the illusion. Maybe the head on the spear thing with her friend, may just not be a good idea, he thought. He pulled out a small pad, pen and wrote Do not show friend's head on spear. Results: Crazy. *Check mark* *Smiley face*. She continued her onslaught, while Sora walked up to her slowly. He glanced over at the raging Namine covered in an unknown flame and fighting Flandre. Are all women in the Vongola monsters? he pondered.

"K-k-keiko! Why are you hurting one of the Vongola!" he yelled out. She was attacking a Vongola mafia guard thinking it was Sora the whole time. His words started to become more slurred as his eyes poured tears, "Stop it!"

"Ewwww, she's really hurting him," he commented seeing the blood ooze out of the man. "A left hook, headbutt! Ouch! Oh! Kill em! Go SuperNova!" Sora ran up to her side, a safe distance away and begun cheering, pumping his arms like a fan at a rock concert.

Elizabeth noted the raging Namine and the berserk Keiko. After analyzing this unusual occurrence, she shifted her sights towards Alastor. "Brother," she paused, "What it this? Do all people of this time go wild when fighting? Do I need to scream as well?"

Unlike the others, Hildegarde was still standing behind both Sora and the rabid Vongola, but was not paying the gaggle much attention. She was focused solely on Shaji Ai, who was standing further off and to the side of the berserk Sun guardian and the Rain whelp. With the younger image of Alastor out of harm's way, it was long past time she got what she came here for.

Hildegarde rolled what remained of her hard candies between her fingers, deliberating over which technique to utilize. She was simply spoiled for options, and was completely out of patience. A dangerous combination for a woman so inclined. She began walking towards the girl, cracking her knuckles and stomping her feet in order to draw the probe's attention.

No more games. The alien traitor would hand over the ring or they'd be scrubbing what remained of its mind slave off the wall.

"Trevor, watch out!" Flandre shouted, her words carrying over to where the others stood. The Rizzo famiglia pivoted in unison, their collective sight focusing on the raging Nami, who was bearing down on Trevor clear on the other side of the auditorium. Without a moment's hesitation, Miku and Hildegarde surged forward like the twin turbines of a fighter jet. The Comet guardian streaked across the floor, leaving a trail of pale blue flames and frost in her wake. Hildegarde took to the air, rocketing towards the scene like an ICBM.

Unfortunately, Nami in all her rage was simply too fast, and they were much too far away to make it in time. In a blinding flare of black and red, she smashed into the Rizzo Moon guardian, bathing the area in her unknown flames. Miku and Hildegarde screeched to a halt a couple dozen meters away, looks of horror upon their faces. Back on the other side of the room, little Alastor puffed out his chest and stepped forward, fully intending to join the others in exacting sweet revenge on this primitive brute, but his elder image placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him.

"You and I are done here," the elder Alastor muttered.

The flareup of red and black flames that enshrouded the vicinity died down a moment later. Trevor stood, untouched, his hand still outstretched before him. Mere millimeters from the side of his face was Nami's inflamed claw-like hand, moments from rending the boy's skull in two. It was as if Nami were suspended in timelessness, though it quickly became evident that that was not the case.

Standing directly behind Nami was Donovan. He had a firm grip on the Storm Vongola's wrist.

"Woah there, beasty," he said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. The look on his face was positively murderous. "One more inch and I would've atomized you." He increased his grip on the Vongola's wrist, enough that his knuckles turned white. Any more force and he'd break it. "Understand?"

The beast didn't move at all as he spoke to it. Not a single inch. It wasn't that she didn't have the desire to move so much as she couldn't. Donovan, in maintaining physical contact with the girl, had not only robbed her of all of her momentum by injecting his flame into her, but was continually robbing her of any momentum she might acquire through any sort of movement. He'd effectively petrified the raging beast in its tracks.


At hearing Donovan call his name, Trevor recoiled noticeably, as if waking up from a nightmare. He blinked a few times, reorienting himself with his surroundings. Donovan frowned in sympathy. He was pretty sure he knew why his friend froze against the Storm guardian. Being a frontline soldier in a war for the survival of humanity meant seeing a lot of things that ought not be seen, and experiencing sensations that ought not be experienced. When not piloting his box weapon, Donovan noticed that, from time to time, Trevor would mentally lapse back into his own past battles, reliving his worst moments.

That's the price of being a hero. The part they don't put in the brochure.

Trevor gently placed his hand on Nami's cheek, nearly cupping the side of her face in his small extremity. Her rogue flame parted before his fingers like the red sea. Trevor stared into the girl's ruby red eyes, and she stared right back. Donovan could feel the intensity of their connection through his grip on the girl's wrist, and soon let go of her entirely. Instead of rushing forward and finishing her attack, Nami fell to her knees. Trevor followed her down, kneeling alongside her, never removing his hand from the side of her face.

There were no words. There was no exchange of blows. Nami's chaotic flame simply ceased to be, replaced entirely with an oddly luminous gray-white flame that manifested itself around the girl but for an instant before it, too, ceased. Nami crumpled, falling forward onto Trevor like a ton of bricks, but Donovan caught her before they both hit the ground, lowering her gently.

Donovan gave the Vongola guardian a quick once over. Flandre had definitely shown her what for. As far as he could tell, the vast majority of her bones were broken or fractured in some way.

Hopefully she'd survive, or the timeline might be in trouble.

Donovan winced, looking down at the hand he'd used to grip the Nami's wrist. His palm was burnt pretty badly, the withered and blackened skin interspersed with patches of red and pink. It was as if he'd reached out and touched a hot iron. Whatever that weird flame was, it was unlike anything he'd ever encountered before.

Trevor, his face still wrapped in his own makeshift mask, looked up at Donovan with his usual intractable gaze. His numbingly gray eyes would give even Medusa a run for her money. They were the eyes of someone who had encountered far more than their fair share. Donovan broke eye contact first, looking off to the side instead. Miku and Hildegarde were rapidly approaching, but he wasn't looking at them. Over towards the other side of the auditorium, around where the younger image of Alastor fought with the Vongola's Rain guardian, stood none other than Alastor. The current one. The real one. One moment there was nothing, and then in the next, he was there.

Donovan sighed in bitter disappointment. It would seem that his opportunity to take the Lightning ring had just expired.

The setting changes from vongola-headquarters-in-japan to Earth


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust
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Miyamoto Keiko & Murasaki Eri

Eri made her way through the debris, walking towards where the most people had congregated in, her eyes locked onto the form of Namine enveloped in dark flames.

"Keiko, No!" Fredrick yelled, running up behind her and throwing his arms around her shoulders. He interlocked his wrists in an attempted bear hug, injecting into his friend whatever remained of his quickly diminishing stores of Rain flame with the hope that the flame's tranquility attribute would pacify her. "Please, Stop it Keiko! You're hurting him!"

Rage-filled and mindless, Keiko tried to swipe at Fredrick behind her, roaring all the while. She managed to pull Fredrick from her back and slammed him into the ground. Right before she was about to deliver a possibly devastating punch.

"KEIKO!" Eri yelled as she reached in time to see this, sounding stern.

Keiko instantly stopped, staring at Eri. Slowly her wildness began to subside and her eyes began to recognize her surroundings properly. Eri walked towards her.

"E...Eri? But I thought..." Keiko began, walking over to Eri only to get a very loud slap across the face. Keiko stepped back, shocked by the blow.

"What are you doing? I thought you were better than this, self-proclaimed Champion." Eri reprimanded her, "Aren't you supposed to protect us? You're attacking the Vongola instead."

"Eri... I... ya were dead." Keiko said quietly, rubbing her stinging cheek.

"Nonsense Keiko." Eri said, walking over with her fist raised. "Who was the one who told me not to lose until she could beat me?"

"Dammit Ri-chan." Keiko fist-bumped Eri, her trademark smirk returning to her lips. "Ya know I can defeatcha wheneva I wanna."

The dynamic duo turned to face their adversaries. "That'll have to wait for another day, right now, we have guests to attend to."

Keiko's eyes seemed to come alive yet again, her confidence stronger than ever. She stared as Eri ran off towards Nami's direction. Eri had always been the only one who could quell her rage, this time was no different. Seeing that she was safe and sound was enough to fuel Keiko with the strength of a million Suns... and that, was enough. That in mind, she faced Sora and the suited man.

"I really think ya should hand ovah those rings ya took from us."

It was not a suggestion. It was a demand.

"Nami!" Eri called out, staring at the crumpled figure and then at the other three around, two young boys and a girl, two of which Nami had given her CDs to. "I just want to take her away."

As Eri knelt down to pick Nami up, she could feel bones shifting. 'She broke her bones?!'

"MEDIC TEAM, we need temporary healing, stat!" Eri called out, with the result of two Vongolas rushing to their aid. The two quickly worked on Nami, temporary healing her for safe transportation before she could be properly healed.

"You did that to a person who was kind to you." Eri spoke to the three. "Whatever your motives are, people like you don't mean well."

Eri stared at Flandre, something beginning to surface underneath her calm, icy eyes as she spoke, "I'm afraid that ring is the property of the Vongola. I'm going to have to take it back."

The setting changes from earth to Vongola Headquarters in Japan

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Murasaki Eri Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Fredrick Dill Koenig Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Sora Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Joel Lambe Character Portrait: Cain  Vongola Character Portrait: Miyamoto Keiko Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera
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Trevor looked on at the girl as she approached. He recognized her instantly. She was Murasaki Eri, the Vongola's Cloud guardian, and wielder of the Cloud ring. She was tall, with silvery-grey hair and an unflinchingly stubborn expression on her face, her eyes darting between the three Rizzo and the fallen Storm Vongola in a rhythmic fashion. When she did speak, he simply absorbed her words, meeting her eyes with his own. Thanks to his makeshift mask, nothing but his eyes were exposed anyway, so she certainly couldn't make out any of his facial features. Trevor looked away from the girl, his eyes landing on Donovan and Flandre. If they'd noticed the Vongola girl approaching, they certainly didn't act like it. Even when she spoke, they still seemed to ignored her.

"What's wrong, Schmautz?" Flandre asked as he sighed, "Didn't you get a ring?" she sneered at him.

"Pfft," Donovan scoffed, turning up his nose. "I can get my guy's ring whenever I want." He folded his arms, looking down as the Vongola paramedics timidly removed Nami from his presence. It was almost as if he were pouting. "I was just checking out his speed," he half-way mumbled. "They say he's the fastest Vongola. Ever." He looked back at Flandre, but didn't meet her eyes, instead taking a quick moment to glance at the metalwork of her damaged leg. "You wouldn't understand true speed anyway. Plus," he continued, motioning with a finger towards Flandre's leg, a devious smile touching his lips, "I'm not in the business of breaking my ass getting pushed around by some primitive flame."

It was Flandre who responded to the Cloud guardian first. Her reaction was predictable. Trevor's eyes followed the Cloud guardian's body all the way to the floor. For a moment, he thought Flandre would continue her assault by smashing the Vongola into the ground with her shield, like she did Tempest, but she seemed to have lost interest with the girl, choosing instead to simply roll away. Trevor watched her go.

At the same time, Miku and Hildegarde sauntered onto the scene like twin divas of some otherworldly fashion show. They came to rest on the other side of Eri, who was still picking herself up off the floor. Hildegarde stared down at the girl, and, after a moment, seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.

"Yep," she began, dropping a piece of hard candy from one hand into the other. "I think I'll just blow her away." She glanced over at Miku. "We can play rock-paper-scissors for the ring later, okay?"

Elizabeth realizing from Hildegarde's remark saw that further fighting from this point was not going to happen. "Fine," she replied while not understanding how a simple game could determine their sole mission of obtaining the ring. She sheathed her katana and look slightly displeased that her fight was not going to continue.

Donovan flinched back at that unexpected promise of violence. "Uh, Garda," he said, scratching the side of his face, a look of besotting urgency evident in his eyes. "I think you've blown up enough stuff. Did you notice Alas—"

Hildegarde ignored Donovan entirely, choosing instead to look over at Miku, her voice taking on a slight tint of annoyance as she interrupted the Asteroid guardian. "We can get the ring off its body when I'm done. Deal?" A bullet whizzed by her head, but she didn't seem to care. "No way Flandre gets a ring and I don't!"

That's when Flandre returned, and brought with her a hail of gunfire. Fortunately for everyone else, she had thrown up her Colorwheel to protect herself, blocking a majority of the deluge. The other three Rizzos moved to stand behind her in an unhurried fashion, as if she had an umbrella and it'd just started drizzling. Though initially surprising, the metallic ping ping ping of ricocheting bullets had little impact on Trevor. If anything, the sound made him more comfortable. He felt a little like he was in his bulletproof C-Frame, hugged on all sides by the protective breathable superconducting nanochemical that constituted the inside of the suit.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a short breath before opening them again. Trevor swept his gaze over the scene with an unnatural calm—considering he and his friends were being shot at. He took no longer than a second to analyze his surroundings, noting several things right off the bat. For one, the Vongola were attempting to mount a counter offensive, that much was obvious. The hustling and bustling of dark suits and black glasses began to permeate the area, their old-world primer-striking "handguns" at the ready. Then there were the Vongola guardians themselves. One was virtually floored right before him. Two others were floored over by the Alastors. The others seemed to be in one for of disarray or another, even with their own forces mustering behind them.

And that's when someone caught the boy's eye.

"Is it time to leave yet?" Flandre asked the group.

"Not until I get what's mine," Hildegarde answered, flicking a piece of candy into the air over Eri. It was as if she were totally oblivious to the armed thugs attacking them. The candy ignited instantly, bursting into highly volatile Quasar flames, but before it could detonate, Trevor snatched it out of the air with his bare hand and a short burst of Moon flames, nearly cancelling Flandre's flames in the process.


Instead of responding verbally, Trevor pointed at something off behind her. Hildegarde's face scrunched up in anger, but Miku placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, her voice almost as chilling as her touch. "Alastor is here. We must join him." And then she disappeared in a streak of frosty blue.

Hildegarde turned as well. "Tch," was all she said before taking to the air. Bullets began to impact her the moment she left the protection of Flandre's Colorwheel, but the metal slugs detonated into a fine mist as they came into contact with her body. "You're gonna have to try a whole helluva lot harder than that, you primates!" she bellowed, cackling as she streaked through the air like a firework.

Trevor watched her go, his face expressionless.

"Welp, I guess that's our cue," Donovan grumbled, placing his hand on Trevor's shoulder. In the next moment, they, too, disappeared in a maroon haze.

Clear on the other side of the auditorium, the elder Alastor deigned to acknowledge, however briefly, the Vongola that so cavalierly made demands of him. He glared at her briefly, sizing the girl up in one look. A visceral being. Hot-headed. Arrogant. Overconfident. Unable to comprehend that which is greater than herself. Instead of issuing a harsh riposte, the elder Alastor straightened his tie with a few sharp motions, using both his hands. Simultaneously, the younger Alastor straightened his collar in a similar fashion. At first glance, you might mistake them for twins... of a kind.

Seeing the others flock towards Alastor, Sora hopped on his skateboard and said, "Hasta La Vista, Baby!" as it if were his premiere lines in a movie and begun skating to Alastor's position.

The elder Alastor took Sora as a prompt for movement. "Lightspeed," he muttered. An instant later, he vanished without a trace. The younger Alastor looked down at Fredrick with a look of utter disgust before he vanished as well, muttering under his breath. Both the elder and the younger Alastor appeared on either side of their "current" counterpart, who, until then, had been standing several dozen meters away, next to the Hour Hand box weapon.

This current Alastor looked to be the mathematical average of the two who stood at his sides. Older than his younger counterpart, but younger than his elder counterpart. The trio had hard amber-red eyes, reminiscent of distant supernova. Unlike the preppy straight cut hair of the younger boy or the gelled spiky hairdo of the elder man, the one standing between them had short stringy black hair that fell around his ears and forehead like the frayed edges of some dark fabric. He had a toned muscular physique, though it was obvious that strength was not his forte. Instead of a suit and tie, he wore his trademark jeans and hooded jacket, all black, with fur trimming decorating the edges of the cuffs and cowl. His index and middle fingers were each adorned with a plain silvery ring that glowed softly in the room's hospital-like fluorescent lighting.

This current Alastor turned to his elder counterpart, his face scrunched into a yawn. After a moment, he held out his hand. The elder Alastor reciprocated the motion, holding his clenched fist above his counterpart's open palm and relinquishing the Vongola Sky and Rain rings. The current Alastor eyed the rings before clenching his own fist, a soft grin touching his lips. He looked back up at his counterpart. Their eyes met.

"Perfect," he said, flipping his fist so that his knuckles faced the ceiling.

The elder Alastor mimicked the motion. Their fists were separated laterally by only a few inches. "The Rizzo... the me of this timeline..." The elder cocked his head slightly, his expression impenetrable. "You're all so fascinating."

"Thanks." Like old childhood friends, the two Alastors bumped fists. Almost immediately, the elder of the two combusted into pitch black Space flames before ceasing to exist altogether. The remaining Alastor breathed in deeply, as if he'd just been invigorated. In the background, the Vongola were amassing, but Alastor paid them no mind, instead turning now to face his younger self. It was then that the other Rizzo began to appear beside the duo. First Miku, who streaked across the ground as if skating on ice. Then came Hildegarde, rocketing through the sky like a madwoman. Next was Sora, who, after skidding to a halt, looked daggers at a few of the Vongola thugs, put his balled fist at his chest, bowed slightly and said, "I'll be back!" with a deep Austrian accent, like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Their arrivals were followed closely by the appearance of Donovan, Trevor, and then Flandre, whose massive Colorwheel seemed to draw a majority of the Vongola's gunfire.

Alastor held out his fist to his younger counterpart, but his eyes were on his guardians. "How'd we do?" His voice was deeper than one would expect for someone of his size and stature. In tone and tenor, it rested somewhere between the suave confidence and maturity of his elder self and the impatient excitement of his younger self.

While the others spoke, the Alastor 's younger counterpart simply stared at the floor, glowering. After a moment, he seemed to resolve some internal conflict, his frown inverting into a menacing sneer. He glanced up at at others briefly before reaching down and snatching the Hour Hand box weapon out of the ground. Not wasting a second, he pivoted on his heel and began running full tilt. The machete-like weapon he held above his head bobbed and weaved in tandem with his steps, his expression vivid evidence of his willful intent to murder.

"I'm not done yet!" He bellowed, eyes filled with rage. His gaze fell upon Fredrick, the de-ringed Vongola Rain guardian who was at least a dozen meters away as he ran. After successfully injecting his Rain flame into his compatriot, Fredrick had taken a few steps back from the others in an attempt to distance himself from the fighting. He was beginning to regret that. "YOU HEAR ME?!" The Vongola hitmen opened fire on the kid, but every time he seemed to recoil from the impact of a gunshot, he disappeared and reappeared slightly further along in his running path. For his part, Fredrick's flinch was painfully noticeable. He immediately putting his hands up in the traditional pose of surrender, his countenance a confused mess of fear and panic at being singled out.

He could barely utter a delayed response. "M-m-me?!"

Several of the hitmen tried to physically block the boy's path by brandishing box weapons of some type or another, but their primitive molds were easily predictable, allowing the young Alastor to dodge around them. Others tried to grab him, but their hands and arms grasped at nothingness as he continued to invoke his box weapon's ability. When he came within range of his target, the boy leapt like a mighty Spartan, lower back concave, stomach poked out, both hands gripping the box weapon in an overhead reverse grip, blade pointing towards the ceiling.


The younger Alastor froze mid-jump, as if someone had hit the pause button on his reality. The pointed tip of the serrated Hour Hand blade weapon had become suspended a mere centimeters from Fredrick's face. With a yelp, the young Alastor was yanked backwards as if the back of his shirt'd been caught in a fishing line that someone was rapidly reeling in. He flew across the room like a speeding bullet before suddenly bursting into jet-black flames.

A couple of meters behind the boy, the current Alastor was holding out his fist, knuckles facing his inflamed younger counterpart. The mass of black flame that hurdled towards the Rizzo boss dispersed into nothingness as it grew nearer until it disappeared entirely. Again, Alastor breathed in deeply, eyes closed, head tilted backwards, as if he'd just been invigorated by some mystical force.

"Good," he said, sighing in content. "Good good." Alastor seemed to glow slightly after reabsorbing his two counterparts, though the effect faded a few moments later.

The Vongola forces suddenly coalesced around the Rizzo, encircling them entirely, their various weapons brought to bear.

DON'T MOVE!" The nearest hitman commanded. He was holding some sort of Rod that crackled and sparked with green Lightning flames, its business end pointed at Alastor. "GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

Hildegarde growled audibly, taking a step forward, candies waltzing ominously in the palm of her hand, but Alastor held out his arm, blocking her way.

"Don. Sora." He said their names as calmly as one would on a casual stroll through the park, as if they weren't about to get shot at from all directions. "Get ready." Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly, lips pursed. "We're leaving."

Perhaps the hitman was annoyed with Alastor's tone, or the way the Space guardian regarded him as one would any insignificant insect, but the hitman opened fire with his box weapon, arcs of green lightning smashing into the Rizzo group. Taking that as their cue, the other hitmen opened fire as well. Bullets and flame attacks rained down upon the Rizzo from all sides with such an overwhelming intensity that the Vongola forces lost sight of the Rizzo amidst all the flashy weapon effects.

After several dozen seconds of sustained fire, one of the Vongola shouted "HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Immediately, the others ceased their attacks. As the smoke and dust kicked up by their attacks began to clear, it became evident that they'd reduced the enemy infiltrators to ashes. Certainly no family, not even the Vongola's greatest enemies of this time, could survive a sustained attack from so many people. Feeling confident in their work, some of the Vongola hitmen even lowered their smoking weapons.

And then the smoke cleared completely, the results of their combined attack becoming eminently visible. A few hitmen gasped audibly.

The Rizzo were surrounded in a hollow, translucent sphere of whiteness, but that wasn't the surprising part. Each and everyone one of their bullets was suspended in the air outside of this sphere, faint concentric rings of force emanating from the various points of contact. There had to be hundreds of bullets just floating there, idle, as if they hadn't been speeding at several hundred meters per second just a moment or two earlier.

"A barrier?!" One of them asked rhetorically, his tone one of incredulity.

From behind the translucent sphere, Alastor wagged his finger like a parent admonishing a naughty child.

"A White Hole," he said, correcting the man. And then he smirked. "Now bow."

Suddenly, the bullets began to wag and shake, oscillating like the many tails of some impatient dog until, finally, they detonated outwards in a blinding flash of yellow and white, each newly-energized deadly projectile reversing its trajectory with twice the initial speed. The resulting BOOM! was deafening as molten metal streaked across the room like some firework finale. Those few hitmen that were quick enough to duck managed to escape a majority of the deluge, but the others were not so lucky. The projectiles literally tore them to shreds in a blood bath that was sticky, messy, and all over the place.

By the end, there was no one left standing, though there were quite a few left prone, their hands protecting their heads, screaming in shock and pain.

One such person was Fredrick, who'd dived to the ground immediately. Once the high-pitched shriek of bullets flying overhead died down, he gathered the courage to look up at where the enemy attackers were standing. He gasped in shock.

They were gone. Disappeared, with nearly half of the precious Vongola family rings. The space they previously vacated was utterly vacant.

Fredrick tentatively got to his feet, looking around. There were various Vongola hitmen laid out on the floor, clutching their sides or their faces, some of them screaming... but something was off about this scene.

There was no blood. None. Anywhere. There were no shreds of former people to be found. And, after looking everyone over, nobody seemed at all injured, either. Even the surrounding walls, which should have just taken a hell of a beating from that attack, were in the same condition they were a few minutes ago. It was as if the bullet storm had never happened.

Fredrick scratched the back of his head, thoroughly puzzled. Today just wasn't his day.

The setting changes from vongola-headquarters-in-japan to Earth


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust
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”Hey Trevor... Trevor. Look what I got.” Trevor didn’t much deign to look away from his computer screens, choosing instead to keep typing. “It looks like an address book. Maybe you can look at these area's and see if there are any Vongola around us hmm? If Trevor noticed him, he didn’t act like it. ”C'mon Trevor. Let's do this before it gets dark out.” He reached his hands over the boy and ruffled his hair. “Plus we can go in there as a duo and have some fun. That’d be cool don’t ya think?” Having his hair mussed is what finally brought the boy out of his trance-like state. Trevor very much disliked people touching his hair, though Donovan was the rare exception.

“I think we should stay,” Trevor said, glancing up at Donovan before returning his eyes to the screen before him. “Plus I’m almost done with getting rid of these wires.” He grabbed a clump of thick black cables as if to make his point. They all led to the small inert cube that sat on the boy’s desk. “Then I can have my C-Frame back.”

Donovan looked over the boys shoulder to see what he was talking about. “Oh, I see,” he said posturing himself up to stand up straight. “Well that shouldn’t take long, should it? I really think we could get a lot of information by going to these places. Who knows, we can tap their phone lines, or infiltrate their homes in disguise, or…. or…. I don’t know. Anything’s better than sitting around doing nothing. Don’tcha think?”

Trevor was always surprised at how fast Donovan could speak, and it took him a few moments of silence to digest what the Asteroid guardian has said. “I’m hooked into the Vongola network, as well as every single other local, city, and governmental system on this island,” he said, his voice never becoming anything more than flat and level. “We’ve tapped all the phone lines.”


Trevor did not acknowledge the sound, but Donovan reacted, turning his head. Hildegarde was standing in what amounted to the doorway. Without waiting for permission, she stepped into the room, followed by the remaining Rizzos—sans Sora—with Alastor bringing up the rear.

“Hey Hilde!!! You didn’t take me with you when you went out. How could you have fun without me?” Donovan folded his arms and pouted.

Hildegarde gave Donovan a look, shaking her head twice. He was the second person to ask her that question today.


Trevor turned away from his keyboard for the first time, acknowledging the Rizzo boss’s presence. Hildegarde leaned against the side of the doorway, arms crossed. Flandre hummed contently, appearing to be in a good mood and appeared as if she was in her own world.

Donovan looked over to Alastor and fixed his pouted face into a bright smile. “Hey Al, guess what I did today?!! Something called fishing. It’s crazy. You attach a worm to a pointy thing and then throw it in the water. After that, you talk to an old man and listen to his stories. I’m not sure the actual point of the fishing rod things though, but…”

Miku walked slowly behind with bags of souvenirs from Namimori. She wore large glasses with no lens, had a japanese starbucks t-shirt, and vinyl goods. “So anyways!” Miku begun, “I went shopping today. It was soooooo fun.” “It was a complete utter waste of time. We could’ve been looking for the Vongola,” Elizabeth said. “Lighten up Liz,” Miku replied.

Alastor let loose a bitter sigh. It was obvious that the others didn’t have any relevant news to share. He fixed his fellow Rizzo with a look all too familiar, remaining silent until it became painfully awkward.

When he decided to speak, his voice was low, tone just on the underside of neutral. “So we have a problem.”

Donovan’s face fixed right back into a pout. “What do you mean bud? Did we run out of food or something?”

Hildegarde clenched her fist, which would have gone unnoticed save for the sound of her knuckles popping. It was an ominous sound. “No you imbecile,” she said, her voice steadily rising in octaves. “We—!”

“The timetable has changed,” Alastor interrupted, his voice calm. “Thanks to that last skirmish, our two month agenda has been constrained to two weeks.”

Donovan ignored Hilde’s comment. Mostly for the fact that he didn’t know what Imbecile meant. Instead he reacted to Alastor’s words. “Two weeks?!! That’s like…..” The boy then proceeded to counting on his hands. “Um.. Carry the one….and… Hey Trevor! How much time was shortened?”

Trevor looked up at Donovan. “Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty-thousand one hundred and sixty minutes. One million, two hundred and nine thousand, six—”

Hildegarde snorted loudly. “He said: we’re fucked for time.

“Time?!” Miku interjected, “Why yes! I had a wonderful time at karaoke! I also went out to this shopping mall called,” she continued. “Ti~ime…” Flandre interjected, “and time again, hm hmm, la la laa~♪”

Hildegarde ignored them. “We have a fourth of the leeway we thought we did, if that.”

After a while, Trevor spoke up. “So now what?”

Alastor pulled the Vongola Sky ring from his pocket, holding it up for the others to see. “Change of plans.” Alastor smirked, despite himself. “We’re going to take over the Vongola organization, with me as its Sky guardian.”

“Really!!! Bad ass. We can go in all like, ‘Hahaha. You Vongola’s will bow down to us,’ and they’ll be all like, ‘Oh no. Your sheer awesomeness is too much for us to bare.’ Hehehe. Let’s do it. Let’s do it now!!!” Donovan’s pout once again faded with a wide erie smile. One that would be see on a certain comical villain.

“What?” Flandre broke out of her musical trance, “Can we… Can you really do that? You’re not of Vongola blood, are you?” Of course, bloodline was everything to Flandre.

“I do not require use of this obsolete flame in order to claim rights as the next Vongola 11th.” Alastor slipped the Sky ring onto his ring finger as he spoke. It remained inert. “I simply have to make myself known.”

“So like after we take over the Vongola and all,” a huge grin came upon Miku’s face, “can we build a starbucks in it?” she sipped her cappuccino.

Trevor walked up to Miku, using both hands to take the cappuccino from her grasp. The maneuver seemed oddly surgical, like a drone strike. “No more for you.”

Miku sighed, “Alright… I’ll be more serious. This is how all the other girls my age act around Namimori. So, how would you plan to take over the Vongola?”

Hildegarde looked to Alastor, also curious.

Alastor’s smirk turned into a full blown grin. “We aren’t actually going to take them over. Not really.” He met Miku’s eyes. “With this compressed timetable, we can’t afford to wait on Trevor’s network attack to bear fruit. We just need the King of Flames and his guardians to reveal themselves. And they will, once I lay claim to their precious organization. How could they not?”

“And then we take their rings when they come to fight you?” Trevor asked.


The setting changes from earth to Japan


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust
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Fredrick was rendered nonplussed, finding no other recourse to Shaji’s words but to sit back down in his chair, his eyes widened by confusion. He wasn’t exactly sure what to think of all of this. Aliens? Really? Fredrick listened to his friends go back and forth and wondered if it was all some sort of show. Someone just comes out and says “hey, I’m an alien,” and that’s supposed to be believable? He gave the Mist-guardian-aka-alien a once over out of the corner of his eye, not able to muster the courage to look at her directly, lest he meet her eyes by accident. Simultaneously, he toyed with the ring she’d given him, continuing to roll it in his hand like a worry bead. The B-ranked ring. The one that was supposed to act as the stand-in for the Vongola ring he’d lost.

Just a few days ago, everything was so simple. He and Serlina would banter back and forth. Cain would be on his feet, skating about. Joel, however serious, wouldn’t have such a grave look on his face. Nami wouldn’t have been hospitalized. Keiko would be her usual alpha self. And Eri… Eri…re

Fredrick sighed. When Joel left the room, he stood. Something rumbled and wrestled in his gut, but he wasn’t sure what. He just knew that he felt even worse than he did ten minutes ago. This whole week was just getting worse and worse. Grabbing his bags, he unceremoniously made his way to and up the stairs in absolute silence. He’d been here before, and if things were going to be like last time, his room would be on the third floor. As the only other guy besides Joel, he’d probably end up rooming with Cain. Not that it mattered. Usually, Fredrick enjoyed Cain’s company, though, perhaps, not today. Not with his failures hanging over him like a storm cloud.


The bright bursts from dedicated camera flash units bathed the area in a pearly white, matched only by the incessant clicking of shutters as they snapped closed, capturing the sight before them for all to behold. Beyond the antics of the gaudy media press core was a stage, and on that stage stood a dapper man behind a podium. Flanking him were several individuals that looked like agents straight out of the Secret Service. Standing off and to the left were several other individuals. The first was yet another man, as dapper as his counterpart behind the podium. This man, too, was flanked by others, though they were quite distinct in their appearance. They had the presence of an organized gang, or mafia outfit, or something in between. They gave menacing stares to whichever press photographer was unlucky enough to look their way.

Behind the hastily erected stage was a massive pristine skyscraper of a building, with big golden letters on the front that read: Vongola Incorporated. It was the Vongola’s—or rather CEDEF’s—corporate business headquarters, and today, they were tasked with delivering to the world a press conference to tone down fears and ensure the company’s bottom line remained unaffected by recent events.

The man on stage held up his hands, quieting the audience of reporters and journalists, all of whom were throwing out random questions about this or that. After a moment, the flickering of camera flashes slowed to a minimum, and the blurting out of questions stopped entirely.

It was a moment before the man spoke.

“Good afternoon,” he began, grabbing the sides of the podium with his hands and leaning forward. It has a somewhat intimidating effect on those journalists and camera people in the front row, all of whom gave him their undivided attention. In the distance, TV crews could be seen roaming the area, their cameras tracking the man’s every motion, his every mannerism. There were also reporters and news anchors—the usual talking heads—chattering on about something or other, making pointed gestures at the man, but when they noticed he’d started speaking, they, too, quieted down. The man had to be perfect here, on this stage, for the Vongola and for CEDEF. Fortunately, this was his forte. It was moments like these that DiCaccio had been preparing for his entire life.

Now was the time to shine.

“And welcome, all,” he continued, offering the crowd a fortified smile. It was transient. He looked down at the podium for a few moments, eyeing the cue cards he’d so meticulously organized across its surface. Giving them a once over, he found his talking points and, without skipping a beat, began. “Now, as we all know, this isn’t the first time that I’ve come to this stage and held a press conference with a massive elephant in the room.” He paused for a very slight moment, formulating his next words. “Of course, I’m referring the concerted suite of physical and data-network attacks against this company, and the rumors that our internal systems have been breached. I’m also referring to the accidental collapse of one of our research facilities, of which is in no way tied to the network attacks whatsoever.”

DiCaccio brought one arm down by his side, leaving the other on the podium, taking a slightly more relaxed posture. It was having the intended effect on the audience, who swayed and bobbed with his every gesture. If he knew one thing, it was how to subtly work a crowd, even if they were reporters from the Ivy League.

“Now, earlier today, I received an update from my team on these two separate issues.” He was sure to stress separate by raising his voice as he spoke the word, but not by so much that it seemed untoward or drew the attention of skeptics. “With respect to the network attacks, we continue to see important progress across different parts of our strategy in identifying and tracking these lawless perpetrators, and containing the threat they posed.” He emphasized the past-tense of the word posed. “First, we have our personnel and our facilities in the United States conducting a full network audit. Over the last seven days, thanks to the data yielded from this audit, we have managed to stymie the malicious activity of our attackers and restore functionality to the vast majority of our affected systems. Meanwhile, we have urgently provided additional funding to our subsidiaries and partners to reimburse them for any potential loss-of-revenue this downtime may have incurred, including our Swiss and Brazilian branches.”

DiCaccio glanced down at his cue cards again before making eye contact with the audience once more, never losing his tempo. “Today, I can gladly say that we have successfully brought an end to this attack on our network.” He paused. “And though it was attempted, our data centers have not and never were breached in any form or capacity by any foreign party whatsoever.” He ended his words on a beat, his voice low. The man projected gravitas. He projected truth. He knew all the answers, held all the cards. The audience was eating from the palm of his hand. “Furthermore, we have traced this attack back to a so-called ‘hacker cell’ in China, and the authorities are pursuing its members as we speak.”

DiCaccio took a brief moment to reassess the crowd. He grinned ever so slightly. They were still his.

“I’d also like to take this moment to address the accident that occurred at one of our research facilities several days ago. Earlier this afternoon, I spoke personally with the Prime Minister and his cabinet about the incident. At 6:42PM, the facility experienced catastrophic integrity failure, after which it imploded and collapsed. Luckily, there were no casualties and few injuries, all of which were treated on scene. Vongola Incorporated, in joint with the Prime Minister and the government, has opened an investigation of indefinite length into the incident. We are devoting substantial resources and are determined to find the root cause of the collapse, and to ensure that none of our other facilities are vulnerable to the same structural deficiencies. The Minister of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism himself will be travelling to the remains of the facility in person to meet with those conducting the investigation and will receive an update from them on their progress. He will also be meeting with other members of the local community that were affected by the collapse.”

DiCaccio lifted his chin faintly. It gave him an air of being “above it all,” but without arrogance. It was just the effect he wanted. “Again, I can assure you all that, without a doubt, the two incidents are not related in any discernible way. The moment we have more information, we will make it available to the public.” DiCaccio glanced over his shoulder at the man that stood off to the side of the stage, who was surrounded by his own posse. “I will now hand it off to my good friend Samuel Kapachio, who will take some of your questions.”

The man identified as Samuel Kapachio came up to the podium with a purpose, he and his posse exchanging places with DiCaccio and his. DiCaccio gave Kapachio a slight nod as they crossed eyes, but Kapachio ignored him completely. After their last conversation, the response was not unexpected, and DiCaccio took it in stride. He recognized that Kapachio was always better at ad-libbing, while he himself was a consummate master at swaying the crowd.

Kapachio knocked the first few questions out of the park with quick, sharp rhetoric that left little room for follow up. Eventually, the press began to back off, realizing that Kapachio was not one to be easily trifled with. DiCaccio nodded in respect. All seemed to be going according to plan.

Little did either of the men know, someone had appeared at the very back of the crowd of hungry press core members. The person began moving forward, making his way through the Fourth Estate with ease. After gently pushing aside the first few camera men and news anchors, other people began to move out of his way automatically. After a certain point, the crowd slowly but surely began to part like the red sea, with this one person walking down its middle, hands in his pockets, head held low, black hair hiding his eyes and casting a shadow over a majority of his face. The person was taking his sweet time, walking at a very casual pace but with an air of purpose.

On a nearby roof stood a CEDEF agent in tactical gear, looking over the crowd. In his hands was a high-caliber gun of some kind, itself giving off a greenish glow. More than likely, it was a box weapon. The agent tensed visibly, having noticed the commotion at the back of the crowd. Immediately, he locked on to the source of the disturbance—the suspicious person making his way towards the Vongola higher-ups on stage. The agent brought his weapon to bear, aiming squarely at the figure’s exposed head and torso. One pull of the trigger would be all it took to end this potential threat, yet if the person swaggering forward noticed he was within the agent’s sights, he didn’t seem phased in the slightest. The agent tapped a device on his chest, which responded with a beep.

“A1, this is A3. We have a susp—”

A shadow overcame the agent, taking him before he could even react. A dark-skinned hand shot out, wrapping around his mouth, muffling his voice. At the same time, his box weapon was snatched from his hands. The agent was dragged backwards and silenced.

On an adjacent roof was another CEDEF agent, who was peering through a pair of binoculars. When he noticed the person walking towards the stage, parting the crowd, he immediately radioed his compatriots.

“A3, this is A2. Tell me you have visual on this.”

No response.

“A3, copy?”

The agent turned, aiming his binoculars towards the adjacent rooftop and saw his fellow agent, incapacitated.


The binoculars the agent was holding were sliced in half whilst within his grasp. In the next moment, this agent was also silenced.

Back down on the ground, the person strolled forward, utterly unperturbed. Unlike the reporters that parted in his wake, the two CEDEF agents within the crowd were not so easily intimidated. The agent on the left noticed the person’s advance first and held out his hand, palm forward, yelling “halt!”

Immediately, DiCaccio, Kapachio, and their respective entourages all turned their heads, interrupting the conference.

Perhaps the person did not hear the agent’s order, because he didn’t even miss a beat. He kept moving forward purposefully, as if the agent wasn’t standing in his way a few meters ahead.

Suddenly, the agent disappeared, as if whisked away to Kingdom Come. The second agent soon stepped out of the crowd and into the person’s path, looking around as if confused before drawing his weapon. He opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was PUGH! It was the sound one made when punched in the stomach, or something to that effect. In the same instant, he, too, disappeared. It was as if the hand of god had simply plucked the agent out of existence.

The person continued his advance with the same exact pace and posture, only now he had the attention of everyone in the audience and those on stage. Whoever stood in his path quickly got out of the way, making a straight line from him to the podium behind which the Vongola higher-ups stood, bewildered expressions fresh upon their faces.

When he approached what remained of the front row, the CEDEF agents surrounding DaCaccio leapt into action, hopping off the stage and creating a defensive line. In response, the person halted his advance, leaving several meters of distance between himself and the agents. The press core took the hint without hesitation, giving the scene a wide berth, clearing the area.

They were snapping up a storm of photos, however, and the camera crews and news organizations in the back were now all focused on this mysterious person.

DiCaccio came to stand beside Kapachio. “It’s him,” Kapachio hissed. “It’s those Rizzo that perpetuated the attack on our facility earlier.” He turned to face DiCaccio. “And I assume your guardians are still in hiding, licking their wounds? Class act, for the so-called Eleventh boss.”

“Now is not the time, Samuel,” DiCaccio muttered in response.

“I told you you had a storm brewing, DiCaccio, but you didn’t listen to me. No, you heeded the command of some punk and his ill-prepared gang. Now look at us.” Kapachio put a finger to DiCaccio’s chest. “This is your mess now. Clean it up.”

“I intend to.” And with that, DiCaccio hopped off the stage, his agents making room for his advance. The second-in-command of the Vongola came to stand before his agents, who formed around their leader like a powerful river. He stared at the person before him. Even though his head was bowed, DiCaccio recognized him immediately. “You. You’re one of those Rizzo’s, no?” DiCaccio glanced at the audience of spectators, reminding himself to choose his words carefully. “Somehow I knew you’d find your way here.” The inflection in his voice signaled that he wanted the person to respond, perhaps with banter, perhaps with a demand, however, the person remained silent, his head still bowed.

After a moment of awkward silence, DiCaccio continued. “Heh,” he said, his hands behind his back. He walked laterally, towards the left end of the line of bodies his agents had formed. He didn’t want to get in the way of their line of fire, after all. “No matter how good you think you are, it was very brave of you to come here alone, into the seat of the Vongola’s power.” He made a sweeping gesture, indicating his agents.

In the distance, more agents began to pour out of the Vongola headquarters building, and others from nearby enclosures. Even more agents were beginning to push their way through the crowd. All of them headed for the person. The Rizzo.

“But also very foolish,” DiCaccio said, narrowing is eyes in preparation for his riposte to the Rizzo’s arrogance. “Boy.” His voice was dripping with so much contempt that it was nearly palpable. The CEDEF agents that were pushing their way through the gaggle of media elites finally burst out from the group, surrounding the Rizzo member.

The Rizzo member only grinned, finally lifting his head and catching DiCaccio’s eye. And then he held up his hand, palm facing his own face.

And then DiCaccio’s expression melted, shifting from one of smug superiority to utter horror. On the stage, Kapachio and his posse mimicked DiCaccio’s expression.

On the Rizzo member’s finger was none other than the Vongola Sky ring. THE Vongola Sky ring. “Hi. My name is Alastor. Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo. And I’m your new boss.”

DiCaccio didn’t hesitate for long. “Arrest him!” He bellowed, making a lateral slicing motion with his palm, signaling his agents to action.

The CEDEF agents converged on the Alastor like the plague, but if Alastor was perturbed, again, he didn’t act like it. He didn’t even flinch, he just waited.

When the first few agents came within arm’s reach, they were immediately blown backwards, their legs and arms splayed as they flew through the air to collide painfully with other agents several meters away. Appearing beside Alastor was someone entirely new. The kid had a broad smile on his face, even winking at one of the agents playfully. His short orange hair was matched by his soft-featured face. It was as if he’d always been there, or he’d just moved too fast to be seen. When three other agents neared the duo, explosions rang out all around them, causing the agents to falter. Like a meteor smashing into the Earth, yet another person appeared, this time a woman. She landed like a monster, the asphalt splintering beneath her feet as she slid a half meter to a complete stop. The woman was heavily toned, yet somehow remained slender and wholesomely thin. Her skin, a deep rich brown, seemed almost radiant. She raised her finger, wagging it as if to a naughty child.

“No no no,” she chided, her voice artificially deep.

After another few moments, the trio was joined by two others.

There was an uneasy silence as DiCaccio stared, dumbfounded.

“As I was saying,” Alastor said, stepping forward, holding up the Sky Ring for all to see. “I have the Vongola Sky ring. That means I may lay claim to your empire, correct?” When DiCaccio didn’t respond, Alastor smirked. “Hmm. Well, consider me your boss, then. And them,” Alastor said, holding out his hand and referring to the Rizzo behind him. “They are my guardians.”

Several of the closest CEDEF agents started muttering amongst themselves. Alastor truly had the Vongola Sky ring on his finger—there was no mistaking that. The agents looked to DiCaccio for direction, attempting to hide their confusion behind their querulous façade, not turning their back to the perceived Rizzo threat.

Where DiCaccio was silent, Kapachio was not. “I’m afraid that’s not exactly how it works,” he said, eyeing Alastor. “Rizzo.”

In the next instant, the posse that surrounded Kapachio dropped down off the stage, moving to stand between DiCaccio and his agents and the Rizzo. They numbered seven in total, each dressed in tight fitting, outlandish leather outfits. What Alastor could only guess was their leader stepped forward, a man perhaps slightly older than Alastor himself. He casually gripped a black sheathed longsword in his right hand. A small equally-black retractable chain connected the weapon’s hilt to its sheath, dangling ominously. It was an interesting device for Alastor to behold. Such weapons were certainly outdated in his time.

“I am Yemyais,” the leader proclaimed, “son of Xanxus, disciple of Sword Emperor Yamamoto, and leader of the Varia, and I challenge you for ownership of the Sky Ring and the title of Eleventh Boss of the Vongola Famiglia.”

For the first time, Alastor looked taken aback. Surprised even.

Kapachio picked up on this. “I have the Cervello on call,” he snorted, a snide smirk spreading across his face. “They will arrive momentarily. You will then lose and hand over the ring to us. Got it?”

Alastor didn’t respond. Hildegard’s eyes darted to the left for a fraction of an instant, trying to gauge Alastor’s demeanor and prepare for his next move.

Suddenly, Alastor stepped forward. The Rizzo followed him, staying in their triangular formation. Yemyais and the Varia mirrored them, stepping forward as well. They met in the middle of the space, Alastor standing a yard or so away from Yemyais.

They stared each other down in silence, but it was Alastor that spoke first. He held up his hand again, putting the Vongola Sky ring on display. His said but a single word, a single command: “Bow.”

It was Yemyais’s turn to be taken aback. “Uh… say what?”

Alastor lifted his chin, straightening his collar with his non-ringed hand. “I said,” he began, making a swift downward motion with his ringed hand, pointing towards the ground with his index finger. “Bow.

A sound like an inbound missile inundated the area and the people within it. Few looked up, and so few were prepared for what came next.


It was as if the very Earth itself was shaken to its core. Excluding the Rizzo, everyone in the general area fell to their feet, the miniature earthquake causing them all to lose their balance. Kapachio managed to use the podium to keep his footing, but soon disappeared into a haze of dust and debris that cloaked the immediately vicinity around the stage. The Varia, however, were not so lucky. They ended up on their knees.

Alastor looked down at Yemyais, who was on his hands and knees before him. The Rizzo boss has quite possibly the most condescending look ever conceived plastered across his face. His next word came across like a dagger to the eye.


The media reporters and press core journalists, once they regained their footing, began to vacate the premises with reckless abandon, some even screaming. They left their cameras, their gear, their jackets and wallets. Anything that wasn’t already on their person, they ditched in panic.

Yemyais looked up to see Alastor staring down at him, his face contorting into a sneer. “You’ll pay for that.” The leader of the Varia shot up to a crouched stance, one knee nearly touching the ground, his left hand on the handle of his sword, his right hand holding it steady at his waistline. His weapon was glowing with a dark shade of orange. “Feel my wrath,” he muttered. Alastor raised an eyebrow, a comical expression on his face. The Varia leader was holding the sheath of his sword in an odd way, as if he were grasping… a gun?

“Ligre Zero.”

Yemyais depressed a hidden trigger on his hilt, and the blade fired from it in a flash, the sound of a gunshot ringing out. Using the momentum to his advantage, Yemyias guided the attack vertically, up the Rizzo boss’s abdomen and across his face.

The attack was fast, indeed, but it was not fast enough. At the last second, Alastor leaned backwards, dodging the attack entirely, though not with ease. The look on his face said he wasn't expecting something like this, and he wasn't. That was a surprise attack, and it was highly effective.

And it wasn’t over.

“Ligre One.”

Before the blade had even finished moving upward, Yemyais twisted his wrist, reversing the blade. Another gunshot echoed, this time from the sword instead of the sheath. The weapon darted back downward, at an angle, as if propelled by some powerful downward force.

Alastor hopped backwards slightly, just out of range of the attack. However, he did not dodge it completely. Part of his suit and undershirt were ripped, and exposed the skin hidden beneath it. Alastor frowned. “Tch.”

Yemyais took the tempo, surging forward in the fraction of a second it took Alastor to regain his balance.

“Tempesta Six.”

He twisted the blade once again, and the sound of yet another gunshot emanated from it, causing it to thrust forward with unnatural force. With this final move, he would run Alastor through, ending him entirely.

However, before the blade reached its intended target, it was stopped cold. A hand gripped the raw blade itself, the act seeming to halt the weapon’s momentum entirely. The orange-haired Rizzo had stepped in and terminated the assault easily.

Yemyais had a look of incredulity on his face, the result of having one of his best attacks stopped dead by someone’s bare hand.

Alastor, on the other hand, was looking down at his suit and shirt, which had a neat slice through them. He touched the tear with his hand, bringing his hand back to his face to look at it. There was no damage to his skin, but the outfit was ruined. Alastor looked towards Yemyais, his expression enigmatic.

“For the fang of one of you primitives to reach me… even without me using my flames. Nicely done.” Alastor looked towards the Rizzo who’d stopped Yemyais’s attack. “Donovan, if you would.”

Donovan released Yemyais’s blade, stepping back towards Alastor.

“If someone like you wants the privilege of fighting me for my Sky ring,” Alastor began, returning his gaze to the Varia leader. “You’ll have to beat my guardians first.” Donovan placed his hand on Alastor’s shoulder, and the two disappeared. The other Rizzo retreated backwards as well, making a flashy show of vacating the immediate area.

Yemyais’s expression was half perplexed, half enraged. Defeat your guardians first? He sighed, sheathing his sword. “How can I do that if you all just ran away…?” He turned, facing the other Varia, all of whom had come to their feet. He realized that the exchange he had with the enemy boss had lasted maybe thirty seconds, tops, yet it felt like an entire hour had passed. Something about that guy… to dodge some of his fastest attacks outright. It was pretty… weird.

Yemyais’s hand was shaking slightly, but after a deep breath, he managed to calm himself. “You guys okay?”

As the haze of dust and debris began to clear, coughing could be heard. It had to be Kapachio. “Kapachio, sir,” Yemyais shouted, looking into the haze, “are you okay?”

There was a moment of silence before Kapachio responded.


Yemyais scrunched up his face, noticeably thrown. “Huh?!”

From within the haze came a piercing neon red arc of light, appearing without warning, like a demon after having been summoned. Kapachio, along with DiCaccio and several CEDEF agents, came running out of what remained of the haze, moving most expeditiously. Yemyais and his fellow Varia watched them go, turning back to look at the light in the haze. Yemyais gripped the handle of his blade with his left hand, a feeling of dread overwhelming his senses. Something was waiting for them within that haze. Something bad. He could tell his fellow Varia shared his sentiments, for they too prepared for battle.

And then, as the haze cleared, there materialized a… a… thing. It rested upon the wreckage of the former stage, hunched forward, one knee upon the ground, as if genuflecting to some unknown god. It was an all-black, bulky thing, like a medieval suit of armor come to life. Slowly, the armor began to stand. Darkish-gray flames emanated from it in waves. Like some sort of magnetic repulsion, they pushed against the senses of the Varia members. Those closer to the creature could feel a sort of dampening effect in respect their flames, as if they were slowly being negated out of existence.

Where its eyes should have been, there was only a horizontal neon red arc. With a creek, it came to its full height—a bit more than seven feet. It angled its head, looking upwards towards the sky in a silent howl of triumph, the flames surrounding it becoming thicker and more overwhelming, and their influence reaching further.

And then its gaze fell upon the nearest of the Varia.

As he stared down this impossible goliath, Alastor’s words came back to Yemyais with a vengeance. You’ll have to beat my guardians first. Could this possibly be what he was talking about? Was this the thing that caused that quake? Was this one of the Rizzo guardians?



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust
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"Varia, scatter!" Yemyais ordered, taking several leaps backwards in the hopes of putting some sunlight between himself and this behemoth. His final leap ended with him skidding across the asphalt, the rubber soles of his shoes struggling to grip the ground beneath his feet. It'd given him all the time he needed to formulate a plan.

The Varia Sky guardian looked to his right. "Eric, to me." A clean-shaven black male a few inches taller than Yemyais answered the call without hesitation, his opaque Vogue aviators glinting in the sunlight. Eric's movements were marked with a type of feral eccentricity, as if he were composed of a barely-contained energy simply bursting at the seams. He wore sandals, and was garbed in tight leather pants and a sleeveless loose-fitting T-shirt that read "don't do it" across the front in big bold letters. It didn't take him long to reach Yemyais, and when they stood side-by-side, the age difference was obvious, with Yemyais being at least a year the junior.

"What's the plan, boss?" Eric asked, running a hand across his curly ceasar-esque designer hairdo. There was a slight grin adorning his face. A moment after he spoke, he used his middle finger to press his stylish shades back up his nose, towards his face.

Instead of answering, Yemyais turned to his left. "Koenig, give us some cover!" The Varia that was closest to the hostile armor nodded in response. Unlike the others, he was clothed from head to toe in a large black leather overcoat that hid the entirety of his body, save for some mud-brown combat boots. The coat's collar was flipped up, hiding most of his face. Judging by looks, he seemed to be around the same age as Eric—eighteen, maybe nineteen—with messy dark hair the fell around his eyes and ears in an uncontrollable clump. What you could see of his face was sharp and angular, his eyes cold and hard. It was the look of a man that was all serious all the time.

A chain fastened tightly to Koenig's wrist glowed a fiery blue, the wisps of which emanated from his sleeve. In the next moment, a lengthy double-ended trident appeared in his hands, as blue as the seven seas and sharp as the rocks that adorn their coasts. Without wasting a moment, Koenig spun the weapon in his hands, rotating it twice, before stabbing the weapon into the ground, parting the asphalt like a hot knife to butter. From the wound in the earth came a torrent of steam, like a geyser, that quickly mystified the area, shrouding it in an opaque grayness that blotted out even the sun. The hostile armor didn't move a single inch as the mist embraced it with its myriad tentacles, quickly reducing all visibility within proximity to zero.

Yemyais drew his blade, placing the sheath through a loop in his belt and pulling at the retractable chain to give himself some maneuvering room. "Eric," he began, gripping his blade with both hands and taking a stance like a baseball player who'd just stepped up to home plate. "Solar Eclipse."

"Wha?!" Eric reacted as if Yemyais had said a naughty word. "You serious, Yem? S-class move right out of the box?" Even though he was busy asking questions, Eric moved to stand behind his leader. "I thought you were saving it for that brat Cain?"

"My instincts tell me this isn't an enemy we can play with," Yemyais said, still in stance, the blade of his weapon pointing at the ground, forming a forty-five degree angle with the rest of his body. Eric moved forward, wrapping his arms around Yemyais and overlaying the boy's grip with his own. To an outsider, it looked as if Eric were in the middle of teaching Yemyais how to properly swing a putter in some hipster version of mini-golf. After a moment, the sword burst into brilliant hard orange-red Sky flames. "Plus the move needs some work. So let's try this."

In response, Eric's hands exploded with neon yellow Sun flames that burned with an equal intensity. The white-hot intensity of the two incandescent flames was such that they were visible even from without the cloud of mist.

Eric snickered, obviously having just barely contained a bark of laughter. "I bet you like it when I'm behind you, huh Yem?"

"Shut up, douche," Yemyais hissed in response, his face turning red ever-so-slightly around the cheeks. It was a relatively new technique, and so they hadn't had a chance to work out all the kinks, this position being one of them. It was the best way he could think of to deliver both Sun and Sky flame to his sword in a concurrent controlled fashion, without one of them having to hold on to the razor-sharp blade edge.

Not being around the blade edge was a very important part of remaining alive while executing this move.

After counting to three, Yemyais poured as much energy as he could into the box weapon, causing the Sky flames to burn with such intensity along the weapon's blade that it began to emit a soft high-pitched screech. At the same time, Eric directed his own Sun flames inward through Yemyais's hands, further augmenting the box weapon. The result was awesome in every sense of the word. The Sky flame that surrounded the blade not only grew in size, but grew darker, taking on a golden-yellowish sheen; however, it didn't lose a single lumen of its radiance at all. In fact, it grew even more luminous and magnificent. So bright was this new harmonized flame that Yemyais and Eric both had to turn their heads in an attempt to shield their eyes, lest they blind themselves. The sword was visibly humming now, its soft screech exploding into a full-on scream.

"More!" Yemyais commanded, and Eric was quick to oblige. He transitioned his hands from gripping Yemyais's to grasping his boss's shoulders, allowing him to take a step back away from the weapon and its overwhelming resplendence, though he was not able to directly infuse Sun flames through the sword's handle anymore. He compensated by infusing Yemyais with the flames directly, allowing the boy to boost his own output even further. The flame that surrounded the blade became even darker, resembling a dark golden-yellow in its center enclosed by a black and red sheen—like the radiant halo of a solar eclipse. After a few seconds, Yemyais spoke again. "Enough!" He commanded through gritted teeth, eyes clenched shut. "Stand back!"

The blade handle itself had become hot to the touch, so much so that it began to scald Yemyais's palms, but he ignored the pain. Streams of flame jetted out from the critical mass that enveloped his sword like jets of molten rock from a volcano. Wherever the little black-gold streams of liquid landed, the asphalt melted away instantly, leaving nothing but a gaping pothole.

Eric had long since retreated backwards a dozen or so meters, well out of his boss's way. Yet, even from where he was, Eric could still feel the raw heat coming from the weapon's blade. It was as if he were on a beach at noon in the middle of summer, with no clouds or shade to protect himself from the sun's glorious splendor.

To see his boss shine so brightly... just to gaze at his figure alone, one had to risk blindness.

Eric loved the sight like nothing else in this world.

"I hope you're honored, Rizzo," Yemyais grunted in his effort to keep the massive amalgamation of flames under his control, leaning forward in his stance. He swung the weapon backwards, locking his arms, preparing to strike. When he did this, the ground in his wake was crushed in, as if someone had dropped an invisible freighter from high above. It was the very force of the flames themselves that so affected his surroundings, like an artificial gravity. From the way he held himself, it was obvious that the Varia boss was about to make a wide upwards swing.

"I'm showing you my Eclipse flame."

The setting changes from japan to Earth


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miku "Elizabeth" Risso Character Portrait: Donovan Shmautz Character Portrait: Flandre Valiere Character Portrait: Trevor Twenty-Seventh Rizzo Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Hildegarde Faust
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Hildegarde locked her hands together over Alastor's chest, entangling her fingers with one another. She was currently standing behind the Rizzo leader, leaning her bosom into his shoulder blades. She had her arms atop his shoulders, her forearms coming together in front of Alastor's body like a triangle, its north-most vertex composed of her clasped hands. Slowly, perhaps even unconsciously, she cracked her knuckles. It seemed to sooth her.

Hildegarde brought her head down to Alastor's ear, releasing her breath across his delicate flesh with practiced tact. When she opened her mouth to speak, her words came out a mere whisper."Why don't you just crush them yourself, Al?"

For Alastor's part, he seemed eerily calm and statuesque. It was as if the Rizzo weren't currently engaging the enemy, and Hildegarde wasn't currently pressing herself against him. With his expression, he might as well have been watching waves crash along the rocky shoreline of some far off beach. Hildegarde knew better, though. Alastor wasn't calm, he was bored. It's why she asked her question in the first place.

Alastor sighed, his eyes quickly scanning the reception-area-turned-arena. "We're here for the other rings." He turned his head slightly, which allowed his eyes to meet Hildegarde's. "You guys can have your fun, but I'm not going to waste flames on the likes of them."

Hildegarde bent her leg right leg at the knee, her heel nearly making contact with her backside as she leaned even deeper into Alastor's back. This shift in weight caused Alastor to hunch forward slightly in order to maintain his own balance.

"Then who will ya waste your flames on?" She asked, her voice confident in its homely southern bent. "You already grounded that skate punk of a flame king, and after this little skirmish, it's only a matter of time before the remainder of his primitives show." Hildegarde touched her right cheek to his left. "What if I need you then? Gonna sit that fight out too?"

The area under Alastor's eyes grew several shades pinker, his eyes themselves darting to the right, in the opposite direction from Hildegarde. From their perch high atop a neighboring building, the two Rizzo had a direct line of sight on the battle that was unfolding below. In response to the monstrous armor-like presence before them, one of these so-called "Varia" had created a foggy haze; it was probably an attempt to mask some form of counterattack. That brought a smirk to Alastor's face, albeit a slight one.

These primitives were one hundred years too early to effectively engage in combat with the likes of that particular beast. They had no idea what they were messing with.

Hildegarde, not satisfied with silence as an answer, shifted her weight once again, this time in the opposite direction, pulling her boss backwards. This latest stunt from the Quasar guardian caused Alastor to lose his balance entirely, making them both fall back towards the roof. When they hit the dirty cement tiling that made up the rooftop, Alastor found himself straddling Hildegard, his palms flat against the ground on either side of her head, her hands still on his shoulders.

"What was that for?" He asked, his tone neutral but his face still slightly flushed.

As he looked down at her, she simply grinned back up at him. "Letting the others have their fun, like you said," she muttered with mock innocence.


Though she was a woman, Hildegarde was definitely the stronger of the two. With her hands still on his shoulders, she brought Alastor's torso closer to her own. "Trev and the others can take on those primitives. That means we have time to make a smidgen of our own fun."

Alastor's face scrunched in confusion, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Hildegarde turned things around. She used her grip on his shoulders to roll to the side, causing them to exchange positions. Now she was straddling him, and he lay pinned under her.

Alastor and Hildegarde had been best friends since childhood, and she considered herself to be his most loyal... well, everything. Friend, follower, soldier, defender—anything he or the Rizzo needed her to be. She was his right hand, and would gladly destroy the world if he simply commanded it.

Ever since the day they met more than half a decade ago as little kids, Hildegarde has been playing these types of physical games with Alastor, as she did with all her friends. When her mother was still around, she would always something about her "acting tomboyish," and that wrestling and rolling around was a "boy thing". Such discouragement had absolutely zero impact on Hildegarde, who did what she wanted anyway. Though she toyed with most of her friends in an overtly physical manner, it had always been something distinctly different when it came to Alastor. Hildegarde could feel it in her chest, then and now. It had long since become much more than a simple sense of friendship between them, though she wasn't sure her glorious leader had fully come to terms with that fact... or if he was even aware of what she felt for him.

So she would make it clear, here and now. This was the perfect place: in the middle of a war zone!

"Al," Hildegarde began, her accent thick, her expression devoid of jocularity. She locked his gaze within her own. "I want to have your children."


If Alastor's face was flushed before, it turned as red as a ruby now. "B-bu... I don't—wha?" he sputtered, her words derailing his usually lucid and coherent train of logic. "Uh—"

Without warning, something struck Hildegarde in the side of the head. The projectile impacted with such force that her head was thrown sideways, blood and spittle flying from her mouth as she gasped in surprise.

And then she became as silent and unmoving as a statue.

There were no words. There was no time. After what seemed like an eternity, Hildegarde simply stood, the expression on her face menacingly neutral, even as a single strand of blood found its way from the side of her head to the bottom of her chin.

Alastor knew that look. "Garda," he said, using an elbow to prop himself up. His tone had resumed its authoritative tenor. He pointed at her when he said his next words, ensuring he made eye contact. "No killing."

Hildegarde didn't react as another projectile smashed into her face—the top of her head this time. She was prepared for it. The blood-red object exploded immediately upon impact, disintegrating into nothingness.

"You didn't say no maiming, though" she muttered, leaping off the roof and taking flight. Maroon flames exploded from the bottom of her boots as she hurdled towards the source of the attack.

Alastor stood, dusting himself off with a few curt flicks of his wrist before straightening his collar. As usual, it was a sharp suave gesture. Though Hildegarde's earlier words bounced around in the back of his mind, this wasn't the first time she'd said something completely off-the-wall. Nor would it be the last. He'd save digestion of her... uh, desires for later.

Alastor sighed softly, taking the opportunity to survey the scene below. He might not be able to take a bullet to the face like Hildegarde, but he wasn't particularly worried about being sniped. Worst case, he could just suck it up and use his flames, after all, though he doubted it would come to that. The Rizzo completely outclassed the current set of riffraff below, that much was obvious.

Hildegarde seemed to be making her merry way towards one of the Varia members. Whoever it was, he looked completely normal save for the massive red wings that emanated from his back. They were composed of Storm flames, by the look of them. A rare flame type, back in the future.

Whomever ended up being on the receiving end of Hildegarde's rage would come to regret it. He just hoped he wouldn't have to step in to save the poor bastard from a horrible death.

That's when something in Alastor's periphery drew his attention. Looking to his right, Alastor spied the remains of the stage where the Vongola brass had been giving their little press conference several minutes earlier. The area was still covered in a thin gray mist, though it was quickly thinning. What'd caught Alastor's eye was not the mist itself, but a bright golden light that shined from within it. Squinting, Alastor could make out the source of the luminescence.

It was the Varia who'd attacked him earlier—their Sky ring user—and something in his hands was giving off quite a bit of energy. He even began to feel its radiant heat from where he stood, dozens upon dozens of meters away.

Suddenly, the Varia unleashed his attack, making a wide diagonal swing with his arms, curved upward. A thick yellow beam of energy shot forward immediately, following the arc of his swing like an impossibly long staff. The beam of light bisected what remained of the mist cloud, dispersing it entirely, but it didn't stop there.

Several dozen meters away, in the distance behind the mist, stood a pristine skyscraper of an office building, which existed on the other side of the street from the Vongola headquarters building. The beam of molten gold-black light struck that as well, entering the skyscraper near its bottom right side and moving upwards diagonally to exit a moment later near its middle left side.

It was as if a samurai had sliced a tree trunk in half. The newly bisected building succumbed to the temptations of gravity almost immediately, the top portion beginning its downward slide along this new diagonal axis. The screams of bending girders and splintering glass panes reached even Alastor's ears until, after a few seconds, the building imploded entirely, collapsing in on itself in a massive black plume of dust that enveloped the area surrounding the Vongola headquarters building.

Alastor was leaning over the edge of the roof in order to secure a better view, his hands firmly gripping the guardrail. His eyebrows were raised high in surprise. For the first time since he arrived in this time period, he was, for lack of a better term... impressed.