NO PLUMBERS ALLOWED: Stars 4-0

Timeline A

“...I shot the Empire goon and Cricket attempted to reach me. When I was in a position to oversee everything again, she was being yelled at by one of the Toads…”

“...Hookwolf ran into combat with the Bob-ombs, and Oni Lee followed. I didn’t see him again until he appeared on a different rooftop and began fighting the dockworkers…”

“...Stormtiger threw the Fire Trooper into the curb, and their armor turned black but they were otherwise unharmed despite the bad landing…”

“...The Bob-ombs blasted Hookwolf’s armor off, and then the big one finished him off. By rights he should have died, but when the smoke cleared he was human again and unconscious ....”

“...Oni Lee destroyed Toymaker’s workshop, but I stuck around long enough to see her and this giant turtle climb out of the wreck…”

-------

Timeline B

“...I shot the Empire goon and Cricket attempted to reach me. When I was in a position to oversee everything again, she was making mincemeat of the Toads…”

“...Hookwolf ran into combat with the Bob-ombs, and Oni Lee followed. Moments later, the mushroom warehouse exploded…”

“...Stormtiger threw the Fire Trooper into the curb, and their neck snapped on impact; after a moment their body combusted…”

“...The Bob-ombs blasted Hookwolf’s armor off, and then the big one finished him off. Bit of metal and flesh everywhere. Almost felt sorry for the guy…”

“...Oni Lee killed the dockworkers and then Toymaker. Sorry Boss, I know you were hoping she'd survive.”

“That’s alright, Erikson,” Coil said. “With any luck it won’t matter in the long run.”

-------

In both timelines, Coil set the receiver aside and steepled his fingers.

What interesting differences between timelines. In one, there were more casualties on every side, while the other was almost too ridiculous to believe. Cricket being shouted into submission? Oni Lee failing to kill four random laymen? And he had seen the notes for the strength of the purple Bob-omb’s explosion; it was highly unlikely that an already-damaged Hookwolf could survive an explosion of such magnitude that he felt it underground from across the city.

And yet…

And yet, if Thomas’s theory regarding his power was true, he was inclined to believe the more unlikely scenario was the real one. Mostly due to the presence of the turtle monster, an event that had no direct counter-event in the other timeline.

No one understood how parahuman powers worked. Despite almost thirty years and constant effort and study, no one had any idea what the limits were, or if they even existed. Before now, Coil had genuinely believed that he was able to split time itself in half, or something similar. Why not? It seemed as plausible as giant radiation monsters, walking explosions, and little girls who could fold space into a pretzel. Eidolon had used powers in the past that hurt to even think about--literally, as in even trying to remember what it looked like caused migraines, years later. Why wouldn’t temporal manipulation to that scale be on the table?

And yet, now he was having second thoughts.

He reached out to close the timeline, and as expected it was B that collapsed, leaving him with a world where Toymaker won her first encounter with the important gangs of the Bay with no casualties. Lucky girl.

Though he doubted she felt very lucky right now, with the loss of her lab.

Nevertheless, this required more experimentation, Coil felt. And he’d be paying much closer attention to his power from now on, until he was certain how it really worked.

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

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Did you see the parkour video?”

“I sure did, I wish we had stuff to jump off of around here.”

“I never knew Toads could fight!”

“If you can call that fighting.”

“I still can’t believe they have superheroes down there. Like a comic book! So cool!”

“Cassie, what do you think about the mushroom farm they have down there?”

“Eh, I could do better. The hydroponics is good for the Flowers, but the Mushrooms really should get better conditions. The magic will spread faster if they have more room to spread their mycelium.” The pink Starbunny’s ears perked as she thought of something. “Betel, speaking of, what’s the magic situation look like down there?”

“I couldn’t tell ya. If I could go down there myself I could see, but--”

“I knew it was too quiet around here!” Polari declared, flying into the Fountain. The brown Luma  stopped short at seeing the star children all gathered inside. “And why are you all Starbunnies?”

Six Lumas, in the form of Starbunnies, were gathered on the central platform of the Fountain Dome. One of them held the Telescope, from which was projecting an image of Brockton Bay.

“Rigel makes it look fun!” a bunny with green ears said, hopping in place.

Polari huffed. “Hmmf. And what are you all doing, crowded in here? Cassiopeia, why aren’t you in the Terrace, or the Garden? You hardly ever leave there.”

“What Rigel’s doing is fascinating,” Cassie said easily. “It was funny watching him try to explain how to grow a Shroom when he couldn’t keep a weed alive if he tried.”

“More like frustrating,” Betel growled, crossing his arms. The red-eared rabbit snatched the telescope from the green Luma and twisted its center section. The image shifted, zooming through the city to rest on a Koopaling that Polari didn’t recognize, wielding the oddest-looking magic wand he’d ever seen. Or attempting to wield it anyway; his casting method involved much more swinging than normal, and he seemed to have tremendous difficulty aiming, judging by the scorch marks on the wall surrounding the target juxtaposed by the lack of marks on the target itself.

“...What am I looking at, Betel?”

“I don’t know!” the red Luma groused. “You can’t just use any random metal stick to make a wand! What, is gold too good for you? Can’t find a real ruby? But no, stick a glass orb on a bat! What could go wrong?”

The Koopaling put a claw on the globe at the end of his wand, and physically pulled a charged spell out of it. It tossed the spell into the air, and when it came back down he hit it. It was a pop-fly, and the Koopa squinted against the sun trying to see where it went. The viewpoint panned to see a young man in a gray shirt carrying a toolbox, who was struck by the spell as it came down and instantly froze solid. The Koopaling rushed to thaw him out.

“Why would he not just throw the spell once he had it in his hand?” Polari asked, fascinated.

“Because that doesn’t work!” Betal snapped. “For some reason, when Rob tried to do that, it broke apart the instant it left his hand.”

“How bizarre.” Polari cleared his throat and looked them over. “So you’ve just been… watching Rigel and his new friends?”

“It’s the most interesting thing to happen around here in decades,” Cassie pointed out. “You can only watch the same DVD so many times while flying through space before you get sick of it. I can recite the entire script of Air Poochie from memory now.”

“I suppose--”

“In my sleep.”

“There’s no need to be dramatic,” Polari admonished. “I don’t approve of Rigel’s little adventure, but I won’t deny that whatever mischief he’s been getting up to is probably amusing. I haven’t been paying much attention recently, what’s he been up to?”

“Rigel and Princess Thistle got attacked by a ninja last night,” Libare, the green one, said. Cassie punched him in the arm. “Ow!”

“He what?!”

“Oh, and one of the Toads, too. Ow, stop hitting me!” Libare complained. “They’re fine, what’s the big deal?”

“Surely you mean a Ninji, yes?” Polari asked. “Or, no, that would also be confusing, how would a Ninji get through to--”

“Probably through the pipe in the sewers--”

“Libare, shut up!” Cassie hissed.

Polari blinked, confused. “Pipe?”

“What pipe? There is no pipe,” Cassie said.

“Yeah, Rigel would never accidentally connect a pipe from here to the Mushroom Planet,” Betel agreed.

Cassie groaned.

Polari squeaked in wordless worry. “Oh goodness! Does Lady Rosalina know about this?! I need to inform her right away!”

“Polari, she--” Cassie began, but he was already gone. “--Was watching with us last night. Oh well.”

The star children sat in silence for a moment, before Libare snatched the Telescope back. “Gimme, I wanna see what the orange Toad is doing. He’s funny!”

“He so is not.”

“Is too!”

“Hey Cassie,” Betel began. “How much trouble do you think we’d get in if we just… paid Rigel a visit?”

“How much trouble do you think it’s worth?” Cassie asked. “I don’t wanna be grounded like Rigel.”

“Yeah, good point. I’ll ask Mama first before I do something stupid.”

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

Rosalina fitted the glass pipe into place and wiped her brow. “There we go. You have to be careful, Pam, it’s really unlike you to be so clumsy.”

The Gearmo chuckled sheepishly. “Apologies, milady, I’m just not used to being on my own in here. I was making repairs and handed the pipe off to Rigel, and of course he wasn’t there so it just fell to the ground and shattered.”

“Entirely understandable,” Rosalina assured her. “If you want I can ask one of the others to help you out until he gets back?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t make them do that,” P4-M insisted. “Besides, the only other Luma who has an interest in mechanics is Saul, and I wouldn’t want to keep the dear in here, you know he hates loud noises.”

“Mm. What about Guuse, he might--”

“Lady Rosalina!” Polari raced in, frantic. “Rigel and young Taylor--what in heavens are you wearing?!” he asked, gaping.

Rosalina laughed, wiping her hands off on her pants and folding her arms. “Well I’m not going to wear my gown when I’m working with grease and oil, am I?”

“Why are you even in here, Lady Rosalina? I looked for you in the Library and the Kitchen first, but--”

“Pam needs the help, and with Rigel on Earth I’m the best suited to wielding a wrench.” Rosalina brightened. “Oh, speaking of which, I had an idea for getting more out of the Reactor. What do you think about constructing a miniature Dyson sphere around the central star? I know it wouldn’t look as striking as the exposed plasma, but it would eke out more power and be much safer for visitors.”

The brown Luma harrumphed and drew himself up. “Forget about that for now; Young Taylor has apparently punched a hole to the Mushroom Planet!”

“Yes, I know. What do you think I should make for dinner?” she asked, pulling her gloves off and setting them aside. “I feel like fruit salad. I can pop down planetside and pick up some pineapple, oranges, fresh pears--”

“What do you mean you know?!”

--and maybe for the main course we could do Italian. Last time we were home Peach gave me a recipe for spaghetti sauce and I haven’t had a chance to try it yet--”

“Princess, this is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“My word, Polari, why are you so worried about this?” Rosalina asked, smiling. “It’s not that big a deal, honestly.”

“I--I don’t know, because I don’t want any of those hooligans and criminals crossing over and causing trouble?!”

The woman cupped a hand over her mouth and smiled. “Oh, that’s a good point. Just imagine the chaos that could happen if King Boo or Antasma found their way onto Earth.”

“Y--No, I meant the likes of that Lung fellow,” Polari sputtered. “The Mushroom Kingdom doesn’t need another fire-breathing monster stomping around.”

Rosalina shook her head fondly. “I think you are overreacting, Polari. Both worlds have their own monsters. Earth has greater evils, but Mario’s defeated greaters powers. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” The brown Luma looked unconvinced, so Rosalina took pity on him. “Alright, I’ll tell you what: I’ll look into it personally.”

“Good,” Polari said uncertainly. “Wait. What do you mean by that?” She didn’t answer aside from another mysterious smile. “Lady Rosalina, what did you mean?!”

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️

The Rig

“Hookwolf, Cricket, Stormtiger, and Oni Lee,” Director Piggot said. “Two of the most dangerous capes in Brockton Bay, plus two other highly skilled combatants. And all of them were in the Union’s territory last night, in combat with each other, our agents, Toymaker’s minions, and the dockworkers.” She groaned. “This is an absolute disaster. How many casualties?”

Battery’s lip twitched. “13 dead and 19 injured on the ABB’s side, 5 dead and 11 injured for the Empire. Dr. Langsley suspects Cricket might have semi-permanent hearing damage, and Stormtiger has a hairline fracture in both his left-side limbs.” Then, frowning, she added, “And Oni Lee destroyed Toymaker’s lab.”

The Director hissed. Taylor Hebert may have been a headache, but she definitely didn’t deserve that. “What else?”

“That’s it,” the heroine concluded. “No one among the DWU or the PRT was killed, and all injuries were resolved through the use of Toymaker’s shrooms.”

Piggot’s eyebrows shot up, not bothering to hide her shock. “That’s… unexpected.” So she was alirght, then… though a Tinker losing their lab was still a massive blow.

“It’s a damn miracle is what it is,” Assault declared. He grinned and slapped a thick sheaf of papers on her desk. “Honestly, you should probably just go ahead and read the report, because it won’t sound any less crazy coming from our mouths instead.”

“You wrote your report already?” Piggot asked incredulously, inspecting the paper as though expecting it to jump at her. “Yes, this is definitely your handwriting…”

“What can I say? Homework can be fun if the subject’s interesting enough.”

“Hmm.” Piggot grunted by way of response and skimmed through the report. After the third page she blinked and started over from the beginning. “Who did you interview?”

“As many people as we could find,” Battery said. “Captain Amos is still writing his own report, but he looked over ours and verified them. I interviewed Lacey Donovan and Toymaker, while Assault primarily dealt with the minions.”

“Cheers is fun,” Assault said, smiling. “Real chipper little guy.”

The Director grunted, still reading. “I see Pyro Squad did well. The five of them managed to pin down Stormtiger?”

Battery nodded. “He’ll mention it in his own report, but Amos believes that Stormtiger was a bad matchup for their first encounter. He wanted me to get you used to the idea of giving his new squad time to train in one of the parahuman test ranges.”

“That’s probably a good idea. It says here Agent Sanchez was injured?”

“Kind of,” Assault hedged. “She took a tumble that Amos thinks should have killed or at least badly hurt her, but instead she just lost the firepower. All Carolina suffered was a crick in the neck afterwards.”

“Hm.” Piggot kept reading in silence as the other gathered capes spoke quietly.

On the far side of the table, Velocity leaned over to Triumph. “What are the chances, you think, that Toymaker could build us some gear?” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” Triumph raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need any extra equipment.”

“C’mon, Rory, didn’t you hear what she did for Clockblocker? He’s got a bandoleer with those stopwatches now, and he’s an absolute terror now. He’s practically another speedster!” Velocity grumped. “If she can do that for him, maybe she can, I don’t know, make you a super-lozenge. Or give me a weapon I can actually carry at top speed.”

Triumph opened his mouth to tell him what he thought, but then closed it and actually thought about it. Rory was powerful, but he operated under a sort of time limit. He was able to amplify, direct, and focus sound, but he had to be able to produce it himself. Shouting--or roaring, as PR insisted he call it--was the easiest and most effective way to utilize his power, but he had other methods. He was able to deafen with a snap of his fingers, break glass by clapping, and cause minor tremors with some loud stomps, but roaring was his ace in the hole, and he could only shout for so long before it did a number on his throat.

It was stupid, but something that let him yell for longer periods of time would be useful, and Toymaker had already proven adept at healing items…

Before he could respond, though, Director Piggot frowned and got their attention again.

“So she went ahead and made the monster, then, did she?” Piggot asked.

“I’m afraid so, but I can’t say I think she had much choice,” Assault said.

“Toymaker told me that Oni Lee got into her workshop, and her bag of tricks was only barely keeping him at bay,” Battery explained. “The only reason she isn’t dead right now is that her new minion shielded her from the explosion. If she hadn’t decided to create Rob right then--”

Armsmaster twitched, sending sparks up from where he’d been Tinkering with a panel on his armor. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What?”

“What did she call him?”

“Rob,” Battery repeated, amused. “I know, I don’t get it either. Big dragon turtle with a normal human name.”

“Well he looks like a Rob,” Assault said. “It made perfect sense to me.”

“In what way did he look like a Rob?” Armsmaster pressed, sounding bewildered.

“You know…” Assault flapped his hands in a searching manner. “Tall, kind of skinnier than you’d expect, yellow eyes, long hair--kind of look like dreads, actually. Kind of a grunge look. You know, a Rob.”

“If we could get back on topic,” Piggot said. She looked over the papers again and grimaced. “...Given the lives her products saved, the boost in power she’s given us, and the fact that she suffered a major setback last night, I’m inclined to feel generous and grant retroactive permission. What’s the situation with the capes?”

“Stormtiger and Cricket are both in custody,” Battery said. “They have not been healed, either by shroom or Panacea. Stormtiger is in a cast and a sling, so there’s no worry of him escaping. Hookwolf was rescued by Rune, who was also there, and is believed to be heavily injured, but given the nature of his powers we don’t know how long that will actually keep him down. Oni Lee has not been seen since he fled, but that’s typical of him.”

“Rune as well…” Piggot leaned back, shaking her head in wonder. “Five capes, and we didn’t lose anyone. Amazing.” Slowly, a smile worked its way onto her face, but she wiped it away quickly. “Alright, everyone. Dismissed for now. Velocity, Dauntless, get to patrolling. Assault, Battery, you’ll relieve them at noon. Armsmaster, Militia, stick around for now. And Renick, expect a meeting later today; I have a feeling I’ll be wanting to discuss sudden budgetary concerns.”

Renick looked puzzled for a moment, but shuffled out behind the rest without a word. “Oh,” he said before he left, “Danny Hebert wants to contact you soon. He’s… upset that we had people there and none of them were protecting Toymaker.”

That felt like a gross understatement, Piggot thought. “I’ll get in touch later.”

Having said his piece, Renick nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

When it was just the three of them, Miss Militia gave the Director a look. “Sudden budget concerns?”

“Oh yes. We need more Thinkers over here, and I foresee a few construction projects in the near future.” Piggot smiled again, a calculating look on her face. “After last night, I think Toymaker’s proven her products’ effectiveness. I want them analyzed thoroughly, to ensure that there won’t be any long-term side effects sneaking up on us, but after that…” She chuckled darkly. “I am going to be owed so very many favors. Tagg is going to lose his mind.”

That explained the Thinkers, but… “And the construction?”

“That brown Toad mentioned she could do more with a proper greenhouse instead of the hydroponics lab,” Piggot explained. “And if Toymaker’s going to supply the entire PRT, she’s going to need much more room to grow. I know of an earth-moving Cape in Houston, and there’s a Ward in San Diego called Tecton. Between the two of them I imagine they could prepare a farming plot in the Docks…”

“An interesting idea,” Armsmaster said, leaning forward. “Tecton’s work is more crude than I prefer, but it has to be given what he does with it. Yes, I think splitting open the concrete to open the ground beneath is well with his abilities.”

“I feel like building a farm is more complex than just having a place for dirt to be,” Miss Militia said dubiously.

“Of course,” Armsmaster allowed, “But it’s a good start. I’m sure that between Tecton, Toymaker and myself, plus some experts in the field, we could--”

“As useful,” Miss Militia interrupted, “As more extensive farming would be, what guarantee do you have that Toymaker would even accept the offer?” She pinned the Director with a stern look. “She’s still a teenager, and last night a place where she felt safe was utterly destroyed. Battery told me that she was in shock when she interviewed her. She needs time before you try to get her moving again.”

Armsmaster nodded slowly. “That is a factor as well. And it’s likely that she would be suspicious, given--” His visor lit up as he received a message. After a moment of reading, he frowned. “Oh.”

“What is it, Colin?” the Director asked.

“A message from Dragon. Her drone has found something… interesting.”

🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️

🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄

Ruined Kingdom Border

Paragoombas could fly, but while they were some of the best at hovering they weren’t great at ascending. Gomez had never been as high as he was in the airship to Ruined.

It was grand, seeing the world from so high up. The carbonated sea of Bubblaine, the psychedelic colors of Mt. Volbono, the prismatic clouds of Bowser’s Kingdom on the horizon… It was awe-inspiring.

And he wasn’t the only one who felt that way, judging from the looks on the others’ faces. At Professor Goombella’s behest, they’d stopped off at Rogueport for supplies and to pick up a crew that she’s prepared for them.

Only a small one. A Koopa, a pair of Toads, and a Monty Mole. They were interested in the idea of new frontiers and had practically volunteered. After the shamans had gone to visit the local Merlon, they had met with their Bonnetor pilot and taken off.

It was a fairly circuitous route that took them from Rogueport to Bubblaine before heading to Ruined, but the pilot had insisted.

“Bowser’s Kingdom is right in the middle of the most direct path this year, and I don’t want to fly through that airspace if I can avoid it,” she’d said.

The Mole, Del, was the only one who didn’t enjoy the ride. They had to drag him onto the ship, and he’d spent the entire voyage hugging the floor with his eyes screwed shut.

“Letmedownletmedownletmedownletmedown--”

“So, uh,” Gomez started. The clouds outside were starting to get heavier, so he assumed they were getting close. “What got you guys to come along?”

The Koopa spat, to the pilot’s annoyance. “That moron Flavio. He hired me once before and--ugh--saved my shell on a previous voyage. Fool doesn’t know how to sail his own ship and then pulls acrobatics like that? Idiot,” he murmured. Out loud, he continued, “Apparently the Prof. is an old friend of his, or something? So he called in a favor when she put the word out. Hired these three as well,” he finished, pointing over his shoulder at the others.

“And I wish he didn’t!” Del gasped. “If I’d known it would be an airship I’d never have agreed to this! Moles aren’t meant to fly!”

“Relax, buster, air travel is safe as can be!” the green Toad assured him.

“Easy for you to say!” Del spat, getting shakily to his feet so he could point an angry claw at him. “I’m the only one on this ship who won’t survive the fall if something goes wrong!”

“That’s… probably not true,” Gomez argued. “Depending on how well Mr. Kooperry maintains his shell--”

“Freshly waxed and all cracks sealed once a month,” the Koopa said, almost offended.

“--then yes, he’ll probably be fine… And Toads bounce, so--”

“Just hush and let me suffer in peace,” Del grumbled. “I’m not moving from this spot until--”

“We’re here!” their pilot called, exiting the cabin. “The ship will be landing in just a few moments, so everyone take a seat, please!”

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

“I’m sorry I can’t bring you any further,” the pilot said sadly. “I’m afraid even this far from Crumbleden, the threat of death by dragon is too high for flying.”

“...” The green Toad turned to the red with a frown. “Why did we agree to this again?”

“You wanted to see if a trading post would be viable,” the other said. “And I wanted the challenge.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Never fear, madam,” the lead shaman said. “I can sense that there isn’t very far to go from here.” He turned, robes billowing dramatic in the wind. “Our destiny awaits, for I can sense the void, sucking the ambient magic within to fill itself. Our names await us, and so does adventure. Come, friends, fortune awaits us!”

He finished off by pointing into the fog, which the wind blew away to reveal a cobbled path.

The others stared at him. One of the twins turned to the pilot.

“I’m sorry for how he’s acting. He’s usually much more exacting!”

“Yeah, my sister’s right even if she doesn’t know what words mean. I think he’s just excited.”

Not-Yet-Merlon grumbled good-naturedly. “No sense of theatre, the lot of you.”

The Bonnetor’s brim curved up in a smile. “Well then. Okay. I’ll return to Mt. Volbono and check this spot again once a week. If I don’t see you in a month… I guess I’ll assume you’re dead.”

With that uplifting message, she hurried back onto the ship and took off.

Del looked up from where he had been kissing the ground, startled. “Wait, did she say--”

“ANYWAY,” Gomez said loudly. He pulled a book from his bag and took a few fluttering hops forward. “Let’s see, let’s see…”

Kooperry sighed. “Here, make yourselves useful,” he said, dumping a load of supplies on the Toads’ heads. He looked at Del, who picked up a bag on his own. He took the remaining crate that represented the bulk of their food and hauled it up over his head, getting down on all fours so he could balance it on his shell.

Not-Merluvlee watched him pass by, eyes wide under her hood. “...Impressive, huh sis?”

“Whatever you say.”

“You don’t think so.

“It’s only okay.”

“Pfft. Just because your boyfriend can bench 300--”

“Hey hey, don’t bring up my dear! You don’t get to talk when he’s not even here!”

“Girls, girls, please do not distract our guide,” the lead shaman said.

Gomez ignored them all, walking down the ruined street. He took everything in with only occasional glances at his book to compare notes.

The Ruined Kingdom was fascinating to academics of almost every stripe, from its architecture, to the remaining machinery, the fossils, the scant wildlife. For Gomez, it was trying to piece together clues of the ancient culture. This particular road was fairly well-preserved, with only the occasional yellowed grass poking up between cobbles, but the buildings that once stood alongside it were not so lucky. Crumbling brickwork could be seen in every direction, reduced to rubble from looting, attack, and the simple march of time.

It was difficult to tell if the paint had long since worn off or if they had never painted to begin with, but every structure was made of the same blackened bricks. Old stoops had intricately carved handrails, implying highly skilled craftsmen. There was no sign of a roof anywhere, nor crenellations, and the tallest building they saw was four stories tall and still had intact stairs leading up to what must have been a fifth. The Crumblers, as they were often called, liked to build tall. An avian species? Or something that could jump very high? It was one of the great mysteries of the Thunder Kingdom that no one had ever found any remains. No burial chambers, no tombs, no skeletons, no physical evidence at all beyond their construction. Many scholars believed that they had no remains to be found. Gomez himself subscribed to the theory that the ancient Crumblers were some form of cloud people, perhaps related to the Lakitu Clouds before they developed their symbiotic relationship, or possibly even the ancestors of the Nimbus people. It would explain their obsession with storms and lightning, if they had been some sort of storm cloud variant of the species, as well as the lack of remains; the Nimbus didn’t leave behind corpses, just dissipating into water vapor shortly after death.

“Really? I didn’t know that,” the red Toad said.

Gomez jumped, dropping his book. “W-What?”

“The thing about Nimbus not leaving bodies. That’s pretty neat!”

The Paragoomba blinked stupidly, before he realized. “O-Oh, was I thinking out loud? I’m sorry--”

“Nah, it’s interesting!” the Toad assured him. “But don’t cloud folk usually prefer to build with clouds?”

“Oh, uh. Nowadays, they do, but Nimbus Castle is made of marble, and some of their older buildings have design similarities to Crumbleden, suggesting an evolution over time,” Gomez said, getting into explaining. “It’s actually really interesting. Excuse me, I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?”

The Toad smiled widely. “I don’t have one!”

“...Er, what?” Gomez asked, thrown.

The green Toad rolled her eyes. “He’s a traditionalist. They’re not big on individuality. Me, I’m a Rogueport native. Name’s Variya T. My pop runs the item shop in Rogueport, and I’m sick of just helping in the store all the time. I want to run my own!”

Gomez tilted his head, thinking. “That story sounds familiar somehow…”

“Yeah, my uncle did the same thing. He runs a tiki bar now, but anyway.” Variya slapped the red Toad on the back. “Not a lot of people know this, but right now there’s a bit of a schism in Toad culture. Traditionalists like Red here have convinced themselves that individuality is bad somehow and so they all dress the same and don’t use names.”

Red shrugged her hand away. “And then there’s her and the other Radicalists, who don’t and don’t and do.” He gave her an exaggerated frown. “Look at her, showing off with all her little details and notable features.”

Gomez and the others took them in. Red was a standard Toad in every way imaginable. Red spots, blue vest, white pants. Variya meanwhile had green spots, and wore a yellow apron over a brown shirt, with a pencil sticking out of her chest pocket and a notepad just barely visible sticking out of her back pocket.

The shaman leader squinted at them. “...Do you actually believe Toads should all be the same?”

“It’s a national identity thing,” Red said. “We want to make sure everyone knows we’re Toads.”

Variya shook her head, exasperated.

“...Right.”

Gomez looked ahead, refocusing on the task at hand. “So what do you call each other if you don’t have names?” he asked idly.

“Well, I’m a merchant,” Red explained. “So I’d be the Trade Toad. Or the Shop Toad, if we get the store off the ground. The Red Shop Toad, since there’s two of us.”

“I like the sound of ‘Variya T.’s assistant,’ myself,” Variya added.

“Hey, now, that diminishes my efforts!”

“Your bag is half the size of mine.”

“Fine then, let’s trade! I’m the Trade Toad and we’re trading bags now--OOF!”

“Much obliged!” Variya said happily, taking the smaller bag for herself.

Ignoring the conversation, Gomez finally stopped at a fork in the road. “Mr. Shaman, can you sense anything? I think this is it.”

“This?” Del asked. “There’s nothing here, we’re not there yet are we?”

“No Mr. Mole, not yet,” the shaman said. “You are correct, Mr. Gomez, I sense an energy here, distinct from the background electricity. Which direction do we go?”

“Hmm. Let’s just make sure. Stay here,” he ordered. That said, he lifted off the ground and fluttered to the right.

Kooperry looked bored. “...Hey, how long’s he gonna take? I can carry this crate all day, but if he’s gonna be a while--”

“AHA!” Gomez declared, right behind him.

“Wh--Where did you come from?!” the Koopa demanded.

“It’s a misdirection trap, just like you find in lots of Boo forests,” Gomez explained. “There aren’t any Boos around,” he said, looking to the shamans for confirmation. At their nods, he continued, “But it’s theorized that similar phenomena to ghost magic can occur in areas that just have a lot of death associated with them. And it looks like it’s correct! That’s worth a thesis paper all on its own!”

Flying back to the front of the pack, he pointed with his wing. “So going right sent me back to the start, which means we now know left is the correct path. Can anyone spot a sign we can look out for that could be pointing us to the left?”

“Why would there be a sign?” Del asked.

“There always is,” one of the shaman girls said. “It’s built into the magic. You can’t hide something without providing a solution to the puzzle, or the spell fizzles out. Even if this one happened on its own, there’s going to be a clue.”

“Look, I know how to get out of this joint,” Not-Merlee said. “The wall in the center, to the left it points!”

The rubble in the middle of the intersection was indeed lopsided, with an outcrop pointing in the correct direction.

“Right! We just need to keep an eye out and we’ll be in the clear.”

Gomez led the way, and they wound their way through the derelict town. The clues weren’t consistent. At one fork a lamppost was the guide, where the lamp on the right sparked once every three seconds. Next, a puddle of water in the left-hand road. At a three-way fork, only one of the three paths had a branch in the middle of the road. The shaman, curious, discovered that if the branch was moved to a different path, it became the correct path.

It really was an amazing world they lived in, Gomez thought.

The final turn brought them up short, because of just how obvious the choice was. It was another four-way intersection, and the one opposite the road they came down was choked with dark green vines.

“That… seems out of place,” Kooperry said cautiously.

“It’s a welcome splash of color if you ask me,” Del said. “I guess you’re gonna tell us there’s a puzzle around here to make the vines go away?”

Gomez frowned. He lifted off the ground and flew up to get a better view. The buildings here were more intact, with a few windows that still had glass in them even. The vines choking the path completely blocked the only way in, since the walls were intact enough that going around wasn’t an option.

He scanned the area with a frown. “There doesn’t seem to be a puzzle,” Gomez called down. “I don’t see an action switch around anywhere…”

“A what?” Red asked, brow furrowed.

“You know, those big blue buttons with the exclamation point inside,” Not-Merluvlee said.

“Ohhhh, those things. I always just called them ‘mmph buttons.’”

“Mmph?”

“Well, how else do you pronounce an exclamation?”

“I think we just need to clear the vines ourselves,” Gomez interrupted, settling back down. “Mr. Shaman, do you have any spells?”

He rubbed his mustache in thought. “Hmm… I suppose I could burn them, but I am hesitant. With all the dust everywhere… Perhaps Mr. Del could dig through them?”

“Well, I’ll give it the ol’ college try, sure,” the mole agreed. He popped his knuckles and then, setting his pack aside, took a leap and dove into the ground nose-first. A line of displaced earth tracked his location as he sped towards the blockade and vanished under the vines.

There was a pop as he came out on the other side, and they leaned forward to listen.

“Let’s see… Oh hey, this looks important.”

There was a tearing sound, and then the vines writhed before withering rapidly. They turned brown and dry in moments, and Del shoved his way back through them holding a ball of roots.

“I owe my dad an apology, I think,” he mused. “He told me all about how to ruin gardens like a ‘proper’ mole, and I never thought it would be useful.”

“Well done, friend!” the shaman praised. “We’re getting close, I can feel it.”

He hopped over the dead vines, Gomez right behind him.

There were more vines everywhere on this street. They flowed out of doorways and across windows, wrapping around ancient street lamps and covering the ground.

“Oh I don’t like that at all,” the Koopa said quietly.

The shaman frowned. “Mr. Kooperry, here a moment if you would.” Opening the crate long enough to retrieve a blue orb from within, he examined it for a moment. “My vision didn’t show me this many vines, I need to make sure this is the right way after all.”

Kooperry scowled. “It better be after all that.”

Gomez hovered over a set of vines threaded around what appeared to be a ruined mailbox. “Fascinating. If this is evidence of a postal service, I wonder what other public services they had?” he muttered. “We know the Crumblers had electricity; was it common in all buildings, or was it something reserved for ritual purposes? I can’t imagine what rituals that would entail, but that’s the whole point of…”

“Gomez, back away!” the shaman called suddenly. He held up his orb, which glowed a violent purple.

“What?” Gomez looked down to find himself over a patch of bare dirt. “Oh, a planter?”

The dirt was shoved aside as a set of violet fangs rose to meet him.

Gomez yelped and flapped hard, rising just barely out of reach of the Piranha’s jaws.

“Holy--!”

“Oh spores!”

One of the twins threw a blast of magic that hit the Piranha in the head. It hissed at them and retreated quickly.

“What the shell was that?!” Kooperry asked, shocked.

He jumped back, sending the crate toppling when another plant came up in front of him. It snapped at him, but missed each time until Kooperry finally got fed up and pulled into his shell to smack into it. The plant gave a guttural groan and fled again, this time without returning.

“My word, I wasn’t expecting such vile plants here of all places,” the shaman noted, after they’d gotten over their surprise.

Gomez’s face lit up, despite the near-miss. “Oh, wow! Putrid Piranhas?” He looked around at the vines, seeing them in a new light. “And they’re pretty built up, too.” He settled back down on the ground, kicking at the blackened dirt. “Man, whatever happened in the Land of Lightning must have been horrible.”

“I always just assumed that massive dragon scorched the earth,” the shaman said.

“That happened too, of course, but the land must have been pretty bad already.”

They continued forward, and the vines grew less prevalent as the buildings became more ruined again. Without the extra surfaces to grow on they had less support.

“Putrid Piranhas only grow in either the jungle, or in heavily polluted soil,” the Paragoomba continued, “and this doesn’t look like the jungle to me.”

The shaman frowned in thought. “But look,” he said, pointing at a patch of dirt where gray grass swayed in the breeze, “the grass is growing there. Not well, mind you, but it grows.”

Gomez inspected it for a moment. He nudged the grass with his foot, and the blade collapsed into dust. The Goomba made a face. “Hm. Yes, but it’s not doing great. Still, you have a point.”

“Do you know what they’re talking about?” Red whispered.

“Not really. Plants, I guess,” Variya answered.

“And the Piranhas seem kind of sluggish…” Gomez mused. “I wonder if they’ve started leeching the poison out of the dirt and are running out? Man, nature sure is amazing. Still, bad for the Piranhas.”

The shaman looked at him curiously. “...My lad, I thought you were an anthropology student, not a botanist.”

“The two kind of intersect where Piranha Plants are concerned!” Gomez said excitedly. “A journal I follow is convinced that Piranha Plants are on the cusp of sapience, citing evidence from a number of individuals capable of speech, like the Pale Piranha in the Glitz Pit, or the Ptooie in Port Prisma. It’s fascinating stuff!”

“Oh, you mean Piper?” Red asked. “I know that guy, my cousin never shuts up about him. Piper this, Piper that, I get it, he’s a great guy, cuz, but all I wanted was for you to pass the salt.”

Variya squinted at him. “Isn’t Port Prisma a huge Traditionalist community?”

“Yeah, why?”

She smirked. “In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. I guess the same applies to personality.”

Red blinked. “I don’t understand what you just--” On his next step, Red’s feet slipped to the side. He squawked as he hit the ground, and then got tossed to the side as an unseen force threw him into a wall. “What the heck?!”

Variya stopped, looking alarmed, while the shaman looked over the ground where he stepped.

“Huh. Hey boss, hey sis, look here, look at this!” Not-Merlee pointed, and the others followed her finger.

“...Is it just me or does the ground almost look… blue? Blue-ish?” Not-Merluvlee asked.

Not-Merlon frowned. “...It feels like a boost pad.”

“What?” Gomez flapped over. “But there aren’t any race tracks in the Ruined Kingdom. What’s a boost pad doing h--”

A new one appeared right where Gomez was flying, and he was shoved to the ground with a grunt.

The others backed up, twisting around to try and find the source of the strange occurrence.

“Who goes there?!” Not-Merlon demanded, hands raised in preparation.

When there was no response, he held up his orb. It glowed, and the shaman’s eyes glowed to match. He spun around and a bolt of lightning shot out into a dark alley, searing vines and briefly illuminating a dark, tall figure.

“Shit!”

“Show yourself!”

“Fuck you!” The foul-mouthed figure turned and fled down the alley. The shamans made to chase after him, but a trio of Putrid Piranhas rose to block the way, and by the time they were dealt with he was long gone.

“Blast,” the lead shaman muttered. “Who in the world was that? He looked human…”

Gomez perked up, the boost pads dissipated. “Did he? That’s odd. New Donker human or Mushroom Kingdomite human?”

“New Donk.” He hesitated. “Or he would have been, but he wasn’t dressed like one. I didn’t get a good look, mind, but it just seemed to be rags he was wearing.”

“Huh.” Gomez pondered that a moment longer, but then a movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention. “What?”

A line on the wall was glowing. It flickered, humming and sputtering, before cutting out with a whine.

Gomez stared. “...Merlon?”

“I am not Merlon yet.”

“Yeah, okay. Can you do that lightning thing again?”

The shaman raised his eyebrows, but he charged the spell. “Very well. Anywhere in particular, young man?”

Gomez fluttered over to the wall. He cleared away a patch of especially thick vines, and found what looked like a hinge. “Anywhere around here, I think.”

Nodding, the shaman fired.

The bolt swerved unexpectedly, avoiding the hinge and instead hitting a point in the center of the wall, burning through the plants to the surface below. The point it hit glowed yellow, revealing a thundercloud symbol. The glow shifted to purple, and spread out in lines that could just be made out under the growth.

After a few seconds, the light flickered, and Not-Merlon zapped it again. The light spread faster, burning vines away.

And then, the wall opened up, revealing it was actually a door the entire time.

On the other side was a passageway. Lines of electricity flowed down it, burning away at roots that covered the walls, until it reached the end and the vines fell away to reveal a courtyard.

In the center of the plaza was a single pipe.

“There it is…” the shaman breathed. “Quickly, set up camp everyone! We’re here!”

The group made their way into the courtyard and began setting up their tents. Del dug a pit for their fire while Kooperry unfolded the cots. The Toads wasted no time in preparing a little market stall.

“What are you doing that for?” Kooperry asked. “There’s no one else for miles. Except that maniac, I suppose.”

“It’s practice,” Variya explained. “I’m figuring out what the layout for the shop’s going to be now so I don’t have to waste time later.”

“It’s also practice breaking down the stand as fast as possible in case we have to run from cops!” Red chirped.

“...Is that a concern?” Del asked carefully.

“Hopefully not!”

Gomez and the shamans inspected the pipe. “This… looks odd, doesn’t it? It’s not just me?”

Not-Merlon nodded slowly. The pipe was partially ruined. Half of it was the same worn black brick as everything they’d seen so far, but the other half was a healthier-looking gray, and as they watched a brick straightened itself. “Interesting. Do you know much about pipes, Mr. Gomez?”

“Not really.”

“...Neither do I.”

They watched it a bit more. “Looks sick,” one of the sisters observed.

“No, not sick,” the other said. “I think it’s healing? I don’t know why, it’s just a feeling.”

Gomez looked up. “So when are we going in?”

“Not yet,” the shaman said. “I want to prepare thoroughly before we go in. I need to consult the crystal ball. Now that I’m closer hopefully I can get a sense of what’s on the other side. Once I have that--”

The sound of metal against stone cut him off, and they looked toward one of the other entrances to the courtyard.

Gomez gasped, because what was looking at them was a small dragon, with black scales that glistened in the firelight.

Everyone froze as it stared at them. It looked from one person to the next, before slowly stalking its way towards them.

Del scrambled to get out of its way, but it didn’t even acknowledge him. It walked over to what Gomez had written off as a blackened sapling, but now that he looked closer looked more like a radio antenna. It curled up at the ‘sapling’s’ base, and at the top a radar dish unfolded like a blooming flower, with such suddenness that they jumped at the sound.

“...Well.” The shaman leader coughed. “This might make things a little more complicated.”