Universe's End

Chapter 212: Total War or Olympic Games

"Oh buddy oh pallll."

"What?" The First Monk sighed as the Primordial Rogue appeared from a shadow, an expression on his face that he couldn't place.

"We have a problem," The Primordial Rogue said with a sing-song voice.

"What do you mean by a problem?"

"Our scouts found something." The Rogue said, still using a sing-song voice.

"Can you be direct?" The First Monk sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. They'd had a partnership for quite some time now, but that didn't make Eric 'The Primordial Rogue' any less tiresome for Tom 'The First Monk.'

"Some of the shinobi were exploring near the base of the mountain," Eric said, face falling flat as all forced cheer dropped. "People."

"People?" Tom asked, momentarily taken aback. "What do you mean, people?"

"Exactly what it might sound like," Eric said with a sigh. "We've got visitors. A warband, if you will."

"But the only-"

"But the only way that would be possible is if for another group of Founders to have found their way here, yes, that's the obvious," Eric said. "Take a guess as to who it is."

"I doubt it's the Architect or the Vanguard, if only based on what I can glean from their titles."

"Uh uh, and?"

"The Bird probably would have brought with it a horde of monsters."

"Uh huh,"

"Fuck," Tom swore, putting the obvious together. "The Spear and the Woodsman."

"Bingo!" Eric said with forced cheer. "Want to go say hello?"

Tom crossed his arms, thinking. Long, long, gone was the gangly teenage boy who'd once been stranded on Aelia so many decades ago. He had people he was in charge of, a growing population, and independence he was fiercely protective of. That meant sometimes making split-second decisions.

"Yes," Tom said. "It's better if we appear first. They aren't here by accident; that much should be obvious. So, let's go say hello."

"This should be fun, and worst case scenario, we run the hell away," Eric said with a wide grin on his face, faltering as Tom stared him down.

"Or not."

Allison leaned against her spear, stabbed into the hard stone, supporting her weight fully as one of their people gave a report.

"….certain this is the place."

"Good. You're dismissed." Mumford' The Woodsman' Garfunk said as the soldier snapped a salute and marched off. Turning to look at Allison, 'The Spear,' Mumford crossed his arms.

"What are your thoughts?"

"You're the one with proper military experience," Allison said, raising an eyebrow at the badger man.

"Yes, and you're the Commander, so I will still defer to you," Mumford said. Allison had known the badger man, the Osferian, for long enough that deflecting leadership back to her was his way of subtly messing with her, but Allison took it as a challenge.

"It isn't as if we came out here by accident," Allison said after a moment. "Victory only comes to those who seek it. Now, while our little item led us here, we still have no idea just who might be calling this place home."

"Well, I'd reckon it ain't the Bird," Mumford said.

"And what makes you say that?" Allison asked.

"Don't seem very 'bird-y' here," Mumford answered as he pointed at the towering mountain, the tip of which couldn't even be seen from the ground as it speared through the clouds.

"Very astute," Allison chuckled. "So, the Architect and the Vanguard, or the Monk and the Rogue. Based on all the reports, their base of operations must be up in the mountains themselves. An assault won't be easy."

"No, it will not."

"While I'm confident in my strength," Allison said, frowning a moment later. "I have some concerns. If it's the Vanguard and the Architect, haphazardly launching an attack on their turf could be dangerous."

"Correct."

"And if it's the Monk and the Rogue, I get a sense that the Monk is no slouch and the Rogue sounds shady."

"Aye, my thoughts as well."

Considering the best plan of action, Allison suddenly stiffened up, yanking her spear from the ground and pointing it forward as some shadows began to shift. A moment later, it was as if two figures detached themselves from the darkness. One: a man of Asian descent; the other: a red-headed, Irish-looking man.

"Welcome to our home," The Irish-looking man said.

"Bit of a bitch move to just waltz in," The other man said.

"The Rogue," Allison nodded toward the Irish-looking man. "And the Monk?" She asked as she turned to face the man who appeared to be of Asian descent.

"Damn, racist much?" The man who appeared to be of Asian descent said. "And what are you? The Mariachi?"

The taller, Irish-looking man glared at his partner before sighing. "No. I would be the First Monk, and he would be the Primordial Rogue."

The Rogue casually flipped her the bird before taking a step back, giving the First Monk the center stage.

Watching the exchange, Allison had to suppress her eye from twitching; something about the Rogue's behavior had briefly brought forward memories of her sister.

"I will be direct," The First Monk said, his well-muscled arms crossing. "If you think this is going to be easy pickings, you're mistaken."

"Oye, a bunch of cosplayin' weirdos and ya' think you're suddenly the stars of some Kung Fu movie?" Mumford barked out a laugh. While technically he had accepted Allison as his superior, in a meeting of Founders, they were all essentially equals.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Didn't know a talking hamster knew Earth movies," The Rogue suddenly said as he glared at the Osferian.

"Hamster? Har har, original." Mumford growled. "I heard that one plenty. 'Ya know what happened? I beat their asses into submission."

"Oh, you're into kinky shit, good for you, I guess," The Rogue shot back. "Sadly for you, I don't roll that way. Now, if your friend is there-" The Rogue briefly eyed Allison, raising his eyebrows repeatedly at her.

"Punk," Mumford's hackles were rising, the badger man a moment from lunging at the taunting Rogue.

"Relax," Allison said, briefly raising her hand. Since Mumford had accepted her as the 'Leader', he had a relatively low tolerance for what he deemed as 'inappropriate' levels of respect or deference toward her, a military man through and through. It had never been much of an issue, but then, they'd never actually dealt with another pair of Founders before.

"You too," The First Monk said, glancing at the Rogue.

The two sides were silent for a moment, simply sizing each other up, before Allison lowered her spear, which she had been holding the entire time.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you have no intentions of surrendering."

"No," The First Monk said plainly. "I am not."

"Rules of engagement, then," Mumford spoke up, having gotten his anger under control. "Doubtful y'all want to settle this with a scuffle here and now."

"Nope," The Rogue said with a sing-song voice.

"This is a contest between Founders," The First Monk said. "So, let's not use our people as cannon fodder. No purposeful killing of each other's people."

"This is war, son," Mumford said as he arched his brow as if the First Monk were an idiot.

"No, it's not." The First Monk retorted. "I'm not suggesting we put on the safety pads and fight with pillows, but I am simply reminding you that there is no reason for wanton slaughter."

"Acceptable," Allison said after a moment of consideration. As far as fighting forces went, between herself and Mumford when their people had joined together, their total population at the time only barely crossed fifteen hundred, meaning that as far as active combatants went, they had only a few hundred, max. Every time they cleared a particularly difficult delve or managed to slay a powerful territory alpha, they were given notice that their base of operation gained more people, but it was only ever a few at a time.

"Any other terms then?" The First Monk asked, offering them the opportunity to add anything as he'd had first say.

Allison remained silent for several seconds, one hand stuck out to signal she was thinking, before nodding nearly a minute later.

"How about this? The situation had clearly evolved; neither side wishes for a total war casus belli. Given the understanding that your base of operations is within those mountains, a siege would favor your side as you harry us. But push us too far, and you're afraid we'd take more drastic measures, regardless of any rules against purposeful or wanton killing of each other's people. Essentially, we hold the lives of our separate groups as collateral. Does that seem about right?"

"We're all cheaters here, so take away the motive to cheat," The Rogue said cheerily. "Game theory."

For a moment, the First Monk glanced at the Rogue, who shrugged his shoulder.

"What? I know game theory."

"Anyway," The First Monk coughed into his fist after a moment. "What you say is true. So, what is your suggestion?"

"Why don't we make this into a bit of a competition?" Allison said easily. "Representative combat rather than all-out war. In the end, win or lose, both of our factions will be joined. Rather than resentment festering, it can be an opportunity to get to know one another."

"Clever," The First Monk nodded. "We turn the situation from slaughter to competition; everyone wins."

Part of the reason it was even possible to begin with was that Aelia had once made it clear there was no reason for her Founders to hunt each other down with the intent to kill; it was merely a competition for control of the planet. Plus, with the Founders being 'survivors' of the erasure of their old universe, razing the burgeoning civilizations was a good way to set them all back.

Plus, and most importantly, they weren't monsters who only wanted to kill enlightened species. Nor were they the sensen, the monsters who existed before monsters.

"So, how does this competition go, then?" The Rogue asked, lightening up somewhat as the threat of violence seemed to ease.

"Brackets, tiers five, six, seven, and finally Founders," The First Monk said, an energy that to Allison almost felt like excitement in his voice. "We pit the best of our people from each bracket against each other in varying formats of competition, ending, of course, with combat itself, with each bracket being worth more and more points."

"Logical," Mumford nodded. "Four of us means potential need for a tie-breaker."

"Why is it sometimes you talk normally, and sometimes you talk all garbled?" The Rogue asked, as everyone promptly ignored him.

"What sort of competitions?" Allison asked after a moment.

"Team, small team, and individual," The First Monk said. "Team would be worth five points, a small team would be two points for each top-performing squad, and an individual would be one point for each top-placing individual. Points would increase per bracket."

"But the most points will still be from our competition," Allison said, referring to Founders as a whole.

"Sure, but we'd only have individual and tag-team challenges. Still plenty of points elsewhere."

"And 'ya won't turn 'yer back on the proposition if 'ya lose?" Mumford asked.

"See, he did it again," The Rogue said, but was again ignored.

"I don't want needless bloodshed," The First Monk answered. "I will be fully transparent. All four of us are tier eights, and while your auras are masked for the most part, I can sense the depth within. Even if we could defend against a siege, if it came down to a clash amongst Founders, the damage could be cataclysmic. I see no reality in which you two would be easily put down."

"Wise leader," Mumford grunted. "In a world in which the most powerful people are themselves walking M.A.D. variables, this is perhaps the best method of resolving differences if total eradication is not the goal."

"Seriously, does no one else care that he keeps code-switching?"

"Agreed," The First Monk said. "Plus, the more pressing concern: There are still two other factions out there. To hollow ourselves out in a no-holds-barred war would do little if an outside force could then sweep up the pieces."

"I'm uncertain about the Architect, but the Bird has slain two founders already," Allison said. "So, you aren't wrong."

"Well, this has been a rather productive meeting, then," The First Monk said, cracking a small smile. Stepping forward, he offered his hand. "Tom."

Allison briefly glanced at Mumford, who remained anchored in place, with no inclination to exchange hands with the Rogue, who was making it a point to act like he was being sneaky about making faces at him.

"Allison," Allison said as she stepped forward, grasping the man's offered hand. Upon grasping his hand, Allison instantly gleaned more information about the man, a sense of his aura that couldn't be hidden upon exchanging cordial contact.

Strong. He'd be a challenge.

Allison, without any extra information to base her belief on, still fully believed she'd win, but then, Allison wasn't one to ever think she couldn't do something.

"Then, to the victor go the spoils," The First Monk said as she stepped away from their firm handshake, giving the Rogue's shoulder a backhand. "Well, I believe it's time we make our departure."

"Cya bitches," The Rogue said, as the two vanished into a shadow.

"Quite the meeting," Allison sighed.

"Aye," Mumford agreed. "The Monk wasn't too bad. Fuck that Rogue guy, though."

"Definitely an odd pairing," Allison chuckled, before moments later, a man decked out in gear ran up to them.

"Commander!" The man snapped a salute at Allison before snapping a salute off at Mumford. "Sir!"

"Yes?" Allison asked.

"What happened? We sensed an influx of aura, but we were unable to cross closer than a certain perimeter; a veil of inky shadows had cut you off from the rest of us!"

"Interesting," Allison said.

"Commander?" The man seemed confused for a moment, the response not one he'd been expecting.

"The Commander is referring to how we didn't see anything from this side," Mumford said gruffly, with a deep frown and look of annoyance on his face. "The work of the Rogue, I suppose."

"You made contact with the enemy?" The man asked.

"Indeed, and we will have an announcement regarding that exchange briefly," Allison said. "You are dismissed for the time being, soldier; all is well here."

"Yes, Commander!" The man snapped another salute before jogging back to the rest of their encampment.

"Well, I suppose they don't need a scolding if they were blocked," Mumford grumbled. "I had intentions to have a word with them over their failure to react to an enemy incursion."

It was one of the few differences between her and Mumford. He, the military man, had far stricter expectations of their soldiers. In contrast, Allison had only ever had experience when her father visited an army base or an aircraft carrier and decided to drag her along, as an opportunity for 'experience' for her future in politics.

Well, you got your wish somehow, Dad.

Never letting the thought show on her face, Allison turned to face the mountain, looking as high up as she could.

"Perhaps we should prepare ourselves as well."