Patrick stifled a wince when he felt one of his familiars’ lives snuff out. So someone had taken the bait. Three, no… four people tailing him? Even with his improvised measures, he could tell that Marton’s men were out to get him. Seems that he didn’t like the carnival that Patrick ran.

He was fine with that.

Patrick smirked.

If they didn’t like the big top, they were sure not to like the Freak Show.

Do it, Berserker.

A scream rang out as glass shattered: a hulking form blasted out of the penthouse floor, sending a spray of glass and blood as he hurtled down twenty-nine stories to the ground, landing with force enough to kill mortal men. The concrete cracked beneath Berserker’s feet. The giant moaned incoherently as it dropped the mangled corpse of a VIP to the ground.

Panic.

Pedestrians ran from the cruel Berserker, trampling each other, pulling each other up, running for dear life as the hulking man took long strides towards a young couple running away. His casual gait easily kept pace with their sprint. Berserker’s lips pulled back into a broad, salivating grin. The battle-starved giant reached out a hand to rend skull from neck, when-

An arrow shot by at lightning speed, slamming right into the giant’s hand. Archer landed, balancing on an outcropping on the volcano, before hopping to the next. His expression was calculating. Poised.

“That’s enough out of you.”

He was wearing a black suit jacket and trousers, his arms clutching a bright silver bow, drawing back another arrow. “I think it's time the pawn learned his place.”

Any moment now the show would start. He just had to hold out.

The Berserker clenched his fist and flexed. His knuckles popped as the arrow was ejected, barbed head tearing out more flesh as it exited, pushed out by new growth. The Berserker hissed, but new muscle took the place of old. New sinew. Finally, new skin. He turned to glance in Archer’s direction. Then he was a blur.

Three feet in front of Archer, massive hands closed in to grasp his throat. To choke oxygen out and to shatter spine. Berserker roared, body arched from his insane leap, veins bulging, eyes bloodshot, tombstone teeth agleam in the dusky sun.

Archer kept his distance, only able to blink in the time it took for Berserker to close the distance and reach out for him, to choke the life from his body. It was unfortunate for him that he chose to do it on the hour. The moment the Volcano Show started and of course, this was jet number one. A column of flame erupted from the jet. Archer jumped up, firing a flurry of arrows into the Berserker, anchoring it to the rock by hands, then feet, then torso.

<<Brian, I have a favor to ask. Could you keep that jet burning?>>

The Berserker screamed as the flame took hold over its flesh, drying, then burning to charcoal. The Berserker arched backwards, ripped its hands free, blood flowing, skin flaking… And then plunge deeper into the flame. It punched into the facade of the mountain, ripping aside false rock to reveal the nozzle, all the while enduring the spray of flame. He grabbed the base of the jet and bent it over, laughing as the flame redirected towards Archer.

He screeched with damaged vocal chords.  Grinned out half a mouth. Stared out of shriveled eyes.

Archer froze. Scowled. This thing… it would not die…! Flames only seemed to give it pause for a moment. Archer felt the approaching heat as the jet was redirected, twisting to shoot several arrows through the spray, lightning them as they passed through the flames and struck the flesh. Whatever this thing was, it was bad news for the rest of the plan. It had to be swept from the board now. What the hell had this stupid pawn got his hands on?

The Berserker began to pound on the head of the nozzle, eventually ripping the igniter and nozzle clean off. He dropped to soak in the petroleum, residual flame causing it to come alight. With a steady, fight-hungry smile, he stood to full height. He shuddered from the pain, but his insanity and his purpose held his composure. Berserker was eight feet of burning man.

And now he made his move again.

He lunged forward, shooting across the fire show, trying to grab Archer in a choke.

Archer watched with a steady fascination as the Berserker doused himself in what seemed to be the flames source, completely set aflame within instants. That only told Archer that fire wasn’t working. It was time for plan B.

<<Archer, what are you wasting your time on?>>

Brian’s voice came in telepathically. Calm, cold as ice. Composed, but impatient.

<<Whatever this idiot got his hands on, it’s under the curse of the Berserker. This thing isn’t going to stop until the ashes of its body are disturbed. I need to… level the playing field.>>

<<You won’t need to try very hard, Archer. I’ve had a look at its parameters. This thing’s a monster. Tedious to deal with, but taxing on the body to control. Eventually, Goldstein will run out of mana or be forced to use a Command  Seal to call his attack off. He’s one man. Just survive. If I’m not mistaken, that is your specialty.>>

Archer gave a heavy sigh. Easy for him to say, up there in his tower. He was the one going toe to toe with eight feet of muscle and rage. Though the fact he might be running on empty… Archer drew back his bow.
He fired off a flurry of arrows, rapidly shooting through the air at great speed, almost looking like points of light as they raced to intersect directly with his head. If this kid was going to push him… then he would push back in kind…!


His expert marksmanship hit true. Two arrows struck the Berserker dead in the eyes, rendering him temporarily blind. The Berserker roared, opened his mouth as a third arrow stuck his tongue to his jaw. Arrows pincushioned him as he continued sailing through the air, blind, still trying to catch Archer on instinct alone.

“...What does it take…?” Archer mused, almost wondering if it was a corpse that was being hurled through the air towards him at this point. He stepped back, with the senses on his side, landing on a flame jet before jumping to another, taking a shot as he landed, aiming for his neck, his shoulder, anything that could stop further movement. “You gotta be getting pretty tired by now kid!” He said a little louder, almost trying to coax the master out of hiding.

Berserker rolled as it connected with the ground, missing Archer and rolling to a halt in a kneeling position. Suddenly, the dusky light dimmed greatly. The air grew cold. The fire show stopped and the flames wreathing the Berserker’s formidable frame extinguished. Arrows popped out of its face and its skin hardened. The air was thick with Od.

Berserker was trying something big.

“Ah-! Aaahhhmmm-!!”

His mouth moved incomprehensibly as it tried to give shape to words. A Noble Phantasm? The suffocating Od suddenly thinned as the Berserker paused, healed eyes opening, showing rare clarity. The madness seeped back into his eyes, but he only gave a growl as his corporeal form faded.

It seemed that Patrick had recalled him.

Archer was on edge until the moment his form vanished. He was left in the cold, flame jets twisted out of place. There was no spinning this one. Too many eyes, too much damage. They would be on the world stage now. The suited man slowly stepped from the jets to the barrier, then the ground. He got into contact with Brian immediately.

<<Seems like we’re out in the open now.. That thing was going to use a Noble Phantasm. I’ve never seen anything like it. What are we even dealing with here?>>

<<You… underestimate my means, Archer. Word of this will not break from Las Vegas. You can… trust me on this one. It is not time to reveal my hand, but trust that this will be dealt with. There might be one or two individuals who might have escaped my precautions. However, you are not to be concerned about them. Continue observing the matter with Berserker. We may have to ally with the other Masters. This Berserker poses too much of a threat.>>

<<However you’re gonna deal with this, just remember to throw a blanket over the entire fire. If even one spark remains, the woods burn down all the same.>>

Archer made his way out of the area, around the time that it was calming down and almost like nothing had happened, people made their way left and right. An ‘Out of Order’ sign was placed on the fire jets, with a promise the show would be back ‘soon’ A crowd of people had gathered, to mourn the passing of their favorite event, wondering when it would be back.

“This is ridiculous…! They can’t see what happened? They’re all acting like the flame jets just malfunctioned and that’s why half the rocks are missing! Petroleum doesn’t have that kind of explosive power..!” Of course, there was no stopping her when it came to a story. Kathy Ringway… not the kind of reporter Brian would bother himself with which is all the more reason she was dangerous. She took pictures of the damage for now and began to call her boss.

“Boss, I’ve got a big one this time. Much better than that job you sent me on…The tournament hasn’t even started yet…!” Her boss sleepily replied on the line.

“What the hell are you talking about… did you flake on the players again?! Do you know how long those interviews take to set up? They keep talking about how its bad luck to talk about their strategies, but we managed to get them for one night and here you are ignoring them again.”

Kathy sighed. “No but this one is big! I saw it all myself. A guy with a suit was fighting like… it looked like a monster! They were battling across the jets and the craziest thing boss…. No-one even seems to realize it happened!” Her boss slammed the wall next to the phone.

“THAT’S BECAUSE IT DIDN’T HAPPEN. I just saw that on the news. A fuel jet leak? You call that better news than interviews with the top players? You’re on thin ice Ringway.” The phone slammed down and went dead.

“...What the hell is going on..?”