-----------------------------
UVR2 -- AFTER THE DESTRUCTION
-----------------------------
Some Scenes from an Epilogue
-----------------------------

_Wreckage, Room 1891, RumbleDome Hotel (an hour later)_

"Please move along," Scott said pleasantly. A ragged crowd of fighters, under
the watchful eyes of Nunzio and a few dozen rifle-toting penguins, were
marched
down to the brig. All around him, Rumble medical personnel bundled up others
to
be taken to the infirmary. Other fighters, leaning on each other, patched
themselves up and carried themselves down.

   "Nice mess," Wanderer murmured, watching four paramedics struggle with
Kintaro's unconscious body. Demitri's apartment and those adjacent to it had
become blasted ruins, scorched to their framework by the Source. The upper ten

floors and the roof of the Hotel were a complete loss; what had not been
burned,
gouged, shattered, or crushed had been damaged beyond repair by the sprinkler
system. The smell of burning carpet still lingered faintly in the air. "How
were
you going to pay for repairs?" he asked Birdman, who was seated roughly on the

husk of a couch a few yards away.

   "No idea, man," Birdman murmured quietly. He had reached the limits of even

his capacity to freak some time ago, and now stared at the wreckage with
disturbing calm. Sitting next to him on the couch, a rabbity-looking girl
named
Bunny--she had introduced herself to Wanderer as one of the security
personnel--there-thered in his ear. "None."

   A short distance away, Ryo watched as a barely conscious Takuma was lifted
onto a stretcher. "He's going to be okay, right?" he asked one of the
paramedics.

   "Your father's in excellent shape for what he's been through," the
paramedic
assured him. "He should pull through just fine. Let's go, Mac!" Takuma was
carried out of the room.

   Storm put a hand on his shoulder. "I am sure he will be fine."

   "I hope so." Ryo looked around him for, really, the first time. The
enormity
of what had just happened to both him and Demitri, and what had nearly
happened
to them all, had yet to hit him. He comprehended it on an intellectual level,
but it still seemed somewhat distant, as if it was a movie he'd seen. "We
kinda
wrecked the place, didn't we?"

   Storm chuckled. "My friend, you should see some of the scenes we have left
in
our wake. It doesn't matter *where* the X-Men go, it seems, you can always
tell
where they've been."

   Birdman, hearing this, looked tiredly up at the two of them. "Nice to hear
*you* still have your sense of humor. The next time you have to save the
multiverse from an evil demigod, do it in someone else's hotel..."

   Ryo and Storm found this uproariously funny. Birdman, notably, did not.

_Later that night_

   The Rumble was over, and so was Demitri's plot.

   Every mage worth the name had gone over the fabric of the Rumble's node
with
a (metaphorically speaking) fine-toothed comb. The Dark Guy had apprently
taken
Rose's ultimatum seriously, for no trace of him or his magics, once Mizuki was

extradited, could be found anywhere within the Dome. The only sign of his
appearance was, now, a indented circular scar in the pavement in front of the
hotel, gaping like an empty eye socket.

   Most of Demitri's willing allies and troops were exported from the Rumble
node as soon as they were found; unfortunately, sterner measures could not be
taken against them, due to the well-known "no permanent changes in a node"
rule.
For the most part, the Rumble staff had to settle for being able to kick them
through the portals back to their homes. Notably, among those Rumble security
could not find, once the dust settled, were Morrigan Arnsland and Iori Yagami.

   Those fighters who had been instrumental in stopping Demitri, as well as
those who were enslaved by one vampire or another, were allowed to stay,
albeit
grudgingly, since most of them were in serious need of medical attention. The
infirmary prepared itself for a long, busy night.

   Carrying a severely wounded Kim Dragon, Ukyo Tachibana protested as medics
attempted to put him in a wheelchair. "...no, no, *he's*...hurt...<kaff
kaff>...not me..."

   "He's always like this," Nakoruru added, helping Galford in. "There's not
much you can do, really."

   "Come on, you dumb macho brute," Yuri Sakazaki groaned, leaning on Robert
Garcia for support as she limped past Ukyo. She was covered in burn cream and
bandages. "Am I gonna have to carry you in?"

   "No way, babe," Robert retorted weakly, pale from blood loss. "Matter of
fact, it looks like you're the one who's slowing us down."

   Terry Bogard, who was helping them both, rolled his eyes. "You two sure
you're okay?"

   "We'll be fine, Terry," Yuri said as she was put into a hospital bed. "Go
look after Andy and Mary." Robert looked guilty for a second before managing
to
turn his face away from Terry's.

   "What happened to Mary?" a new voice asked from the bed next to Yuri's.

   Yuri turned around, and her face lit up. "Donovan! You're alive!"

   "Barely," Donovan grunted. He was covered in what appeared to be seven or
eight different kinds of body cast, looking, at the moment, more like Anakaris

than Anakaris. Kilshred was leaning up against the wall next to the bed. "I
let
go of Cyrax about halfway down, and the concussion blew me through a window."

   "I'm glad to hear it. I'd hug you, but..." Yuri gestured vaguely at her
burns.

   "I know." Donovan shrugged, the movement reminding him just how badly he
was
hurt, and grimaced in pain. "I'll settle for the emotion, thanks."

   Terry made his way across the almost-full room, looking for his brother. He

looked up, and found himself standing in front of a small crowd of X-Men.
Adjusting his cap, he grimaced; he'd known this would have to happen sooner or

later.

   Walking meekly up to them, enduring glares from Wolverine and Psylocke, he
looked down at Cyclops' hospital bed. The X-Man already had his jaw wired
shut--the Rumble's medics knew their job--and was holding the hand of a
red-haired woman who knelt next to him. His visor had been replaced by a pair
of
reddish-colored wraparound sunglasses.

   "Um..." Terry said to Cyclops, feeling like a moron. He studied the floor
intently, not wanting to meet either his or the woman's eyes. "Listen, I know
I
messed you up pretty badly, and I wanted to say I'm sorry. Sometimes, when I
get
angry, I'm not really in control of myself."

   Cyclops tried to say something back, couldn't, and looked at the redhead
imploringly.

   "Help the guy out, Jeannie," Wolverine grumbled. His hands flexed idly as
he
looked at Terry's back.

   She looked up at Terry. "He says it's not your fault; if someone had been
trying to kill him, he'd have acted the same way."

   Terry looked back at her, then at Cyclops. He was mystified.

   "Trust me," she said dryly.

   Meanwhile, across the room, Rasputin applied a thick herbal paste to a
bedridden Clark's neck. "Breathe in," he said, and made a sound of approval as

Clark did so. "Good. The wounds are healing nicely; it would seem that the
vampire's bite is almost completely out of your system. Time will take care of

the rest."

   "What the hell happened to me, anyway? I remember buying a beer, and then
waking up in this hospital bed with a concussion." Clark rubbed the back of
his
head.

   "You, and many other fighters, were bitten by either Morrigan Arnsland or
Demitri Maximov and were thus enslaved to their will," Rasputin said gently.
"As
best we can determine, you and a few others were sent to try and defeat some
of
Demitri's enemies, and were unsuccessful." He put a hand on Clark's forehead.
"There should be no lasting effects, however. You should rest now."

   "Go take care of someone else, doc. I'll be fine. And thanks."

   "Not a problem," Rasputin replied, shaking Clark's offered hand. He walked
over to Ralf's bed.

   Behind him, Clark clenched a fist. "Demitri and Morrigan, hm?" he muttered
to
himself. "I'll have to have a few words with them next year..."

   Rasputin spent most of that evening on his feet, cleansing Morrigan and
Demitri's bites from the fighters they had enslaved. In his wake, Rasputin
left
fighters smelling faintly of herbal ointment and vowing revenge against
Morrigan
Arnsland and Demitri Maximov. Ralf, Blue Mary, Heihachi, Pai, Joe Higashi,
Jubei
Yagyu, Psylocke...the faces blurred in his mind. Clark's was among the mildest

of those reactions, and it seemed that his patients got angrier the later he
worked.

   Eventually, he had to lie down; he had worked himself to exhaustion for the

second time that day. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of Demitri and
Morrigan, and involuntarily shuddered. He did not want to be either of them,
right now, or ever.

   The most heavily attended hospital bed in the room, however, belonged to
the
reigning Rumble champion.  Guy was barely conscious; he was on enough
painkillers that he would not have noticed should he have been run over by a
truck. Ryu and Ken were standing on either side of his bed talking to him in
low
voices, with Rose and Chun Li close by. Charlie and Dan had the beds to either

side of him.

   "...but man, my favorite part was when you took out that bloodsucker!" Ken
said excitedly, punching the air to accentuate his point. "I didn't think
anyone
was gonna stop him until I hit the ring, but you did it almost as well as I
would've!"

   "You damn him, I think," Ryu said, "with faint praise."

   "What's that supposed to mean?"

   "CLEAR THE WAY!"

   The Street Fighters looked up to see a camera crew moving in on Guy's bed.
Several MVTN reporters, among them Austin Loomis (Putrid had entered the room
with them, but had encountered adversity in the form of a righteously pissed
contingent of Virtua Fighters about halfway through the door), eagerly
extended
microphones at Guy, who simply looked at them and said nothing. Questions
flew.

   Ken stepped in front of them. "Guys, he can't talk to you right now; he's
kinda zoned. Could you give him a little space?"

   "Good idea," Birdman agreed, pushing his way through the cameras. "Back up,

people!" They did so, mostly because of the glare they got from the armed
cyberpenguin Birdman had with him.

   "Could I have everyone's attention, please?" Birdman called. The infirmary
quieted down in response, as those who could turn their heads towards them did

so. "Since most of the fighters are in the medical facilities anyway, we
thought
we'd handle the awards here." He gestured towards the door.

   Ryo and Storm, walking in, quickly dodged to the side as four men wearing
UVR
logos carted in an enormous trophy, one that was, once again, almost as big as

Kintaro. Accompanied by the glare of flashbulbs and applause from throughout
the
room, they set it in front of Guy.

   "How are we going to fit that in the dojo, Ryu?" Ken said, his eyes wide.

  Ryu blinked. "I have no idea. I don't think our ceiling is that high."

   "It is my pleasure, as master of ceremonies, to award Guy, from Street
Fighter, the title of Champion of the Second Annual Video Rumble!" Birdman
announced. The reporters pressed forward again, to hear what the champ had to
say.

   Guy, weakly, leaned forward to inspect the trophy. It was somewhat of a
shock
to him to actually *see* the thing, being awarded to him, and to see his name
on
the--

   "'BishaGuy'?" he murmured, looking up at Birdman. "'Champion,
UVR2--BishaGuy'?"

   Birdman tugged at his collar and smiled sickly. A warm ripple of laughter
rolled through the room. "Well...we thought you'd lost, and then you climbed
back into the ring..."

   Guy shrugged as well as his bandages would allow. "It's not a big deal. I'm

honored to have won against all of you." Looking across the room, he said
directly into the cameras, "Bishamon, you fought well, and this trophy is as
much yours as it is mine. Congratulations."

_Room 1027, RumbleDome Hotel_

   "It's good to see *someone* appreciates us," the sword said.

   "Pass the popcorn, Bish," the armor said, chewing.

   Absently, Bishamon threw another handful of corn into his armor's mouth. He

was busy studying the statue that had been delivered to his hotel suite a few
minutes ago.

   It was a foot high, and depicted him in his full armor, sword held above
his
head. The inscription read, "To Bishamon--Maybe Next Year. Runner-Up, UVR2."

   With a sigh, he put it into his small traveling bag, next to the statue he
had received the previous year.

   The two statues were almost exactly identical.

_Infirmary, RumbleDome Hotel_

   "On your screens, you should be receiving a computer graphic," Birdman
said,
"supplied by our own Akarui Hitori, listing the eliminations count received by

each fighter."

   On the monitors in the hotel rooms, and on the Maxatron video board above
the
ring, the following rolled across the screen:

-----

17: GUY (Cyclops, Takuma Sakazaki, Athena Asamiya, Silver Samurai, Galford,
Donovan Bane, Wulf, Yuri Sakazaki, Kim Dragon, Demitri Maximov, Sie Kensou,
Hsien-Ko, Shun Di, Kyoshiro, Kuroko, Chun Li, Bishamon)
13: HAOHMARU (Akira Yuki, Ryo Sakazaki, Akuma, Colossus, Wolf Hawkfield, T.J.
Combo, Saishu Kusanagi, Hanzo Hattori, Brocken, Baek, Heidern, Lau Chan,
Sheeva)
9: ROSE (Lion Rafale, Chang Koehan, Adon, Anakaris, Mudman, Heavy D!, Benimaru

Nikkaido, Jubei Yagyu, Matrix)
8: ATHENA ASAMIYA (Sonya Blade, Stryker, Erick, Orion, Dan Hibiki, Goro
Daimon, Omega Red, Sentinel)
   GALFORD (Spiral, Psylocke, Sodom, Shaun Michaels, Pyron, Leif, Caffeine
Nicotine, Rasputin)
6: MAI SHIRANUI (Lei Wulong, Johnny Maximum, Billy Kane, Neinhalt Seiger,
Sabrewulf, Yoshimitsu)
5: WAN-FU (Eyedol, Thugg, Fulgore, Riptor, Kagemaru)
    SILVER SAMURAI (Morrigan Arnsland, Michelle Chan, Sektor, Shao Kahn, Omega

Rugal)@
    KIM KAPHWAN (Ryofu, Iori Yagami, Spinal, M. Bison, Jeffry McWild)@@
    UKYO TACHIBANA (Rose, Jago, Hanzou, Pai Chan, Terry Bogard)
    BISHAMON (Iceman, Rancid, Birdie, Captain Kidd, King)
4: WOLF HAWKFIELD (Kyo Kusanagi, Eiji Kisaragi, Kabal, Kano)
    KING (Chin Gentsai, Kintaro, J. Carn, Dhalsim)
    CHUN LI (Orchid, Huitzil, Jack, Jacky Bryant)
3: CHARLOTTE (Andy Bogard, Muscle Power, Janne)
    HEAVY D! (Fuuma, Sawada, Earthquake)
    JON TALBAIN (Wan-Fu, Cham Cham, Smoke)
    YURI SAKAZAKI (Chief Thunder, Jon Talbain, Ryoko)
    RYU (Shura, Juggernaut, Storm)
    MAGNETO (Haohmaru, Genjuro, Victor von Gerdenheim)
    KEN MASTERS (Ryu, Cyrax, Jax)
    TERRY BOGARD (Ranma Saotome, Ken Masters, Felicia)
2: DAN HIBIKI (Glacius, Joe Higashi)
    LION RAFALE (Charlotte, Rikuo)
    LAU CHAN (Mai Shiranui, Mantazz)
    DEMITRI MAXIMOV (Charlie, Cinder)
    JEFFRY MCWILD (Robert Garcia, Death)
    RANMA SAOTOME (Sagat, Gen-An Shiranui)
    FELICIA (Shang Tsung, Wolverine)
    NAKORURU (Kung Lao, Kim Kaphwan)
1: SODOM (Ralf)
    KYO KUSANAGI (Sindel)
    RYO SAKAZAKI (Lord Raptor)
    AKIRA YUKI (Sasquatch)
    JANNE (Musashi)
    MORRIGAN ARNSLAND (Zeus)
    COLOSSUS (Neo-Dio)
    HANZO HATTORI (Duraal)
    GENJURO (Clark)
    BAD MR. FROSTY (Nightwolf)
    CHARLIE (Liu Kang)
    STORM (Sarah Bryant)
    SAGAT (Bad Mr. Frosty)
    ROBERT GARCIA (Marshall Law)
    KIM DRAGON (Sub-Zero)
    JAGO (Mizuki)
    SIE KENSOU (Magneto)
    KINTARO (Motaro)
    RANCID (Gokuu)
    KUROKO (Choi Bounge)
    DHALSIM (Larcen)
    JACKY BRYANT (Nakoruru)
    CAPTAIN KIDD (Ukyo Tachibana)

-----

   Birdman waited patiently for the graphic to finish rolling. As he did so,
Wanderer quietly pushed through the cameramen, and handed him a large sack.

   "Now," Birdman said, as the graphic finished rolling, "it's time for my
favorite part of the UVR, the 'Official Unofficial Awards'!" A cheer came up
from the crowd in the auditorium. Reaching into the sack, he handed out a
*large* number of small statues to the assembled fighters.

-----

MAYBE NEXT YEAR: Mortal Kombat 3, the only node to scrupulously avoid getting
*any eliminations whatsoever*. (World Heroes Perfect got three; Time Killers
and
Killer Instinct both got one.)

COMEBACK KINGS: the Virtua Fighters. Last year, Wolf and Lau both managed one
elimination; this year, Akira, Wolf, Lau, Lion, Jacky, and Jeffry all had good

showings. (Still no luck for Kage, though; what is it with that guy?)

THE BITCHES ARE BACK: Team England, for being the only KOF team where all
members got eliminations (and fielding one of the semi-finalists).

-----

   "I'm not sure how I feel about this," King muttered, eying her little
statue.

   "An award is an award, King," Mai muttered. "Just keep smiling."

-----

ROLE MODEL FOR THE HANDICAPPED II: Galford, for eliminating three fighters
while
one-armed.

MOST IMPROVED: Athena Asamiya; from instant elimination to fourth place
overall.

"UPGRADE", HM?: Morrigan Arnsland; from eleven eliminations to ...one. What
the
hell?

WHAT THE F***?: Rancid. Beating the odds two years in a row as the only Time
Killer to garner an elimination.

FLASH IN THE PAN: Lion Rafale, from first place in one Section to near-instant

elimination in the next.

GIANT KILLER: Sie Kensou, for eliminating Magneto.

KING OF FIGHTERS: Kim Kaphwan, with five eliminations.

QUEEN OF FIGHTERS: Athena Asamiya, with eight eliminations.

WHOOPS, BAD IDEA: Terry Bogard, for eliminating Ranma Saotome. Four "die"
votes
cast solely because of that turned the trick, and kept Terry out of the semis.

WHO'S THE BOSS: Magneto. With three eliminations, he is the only "boss"
character to achieve any kind of success.

KILLER OF KILLERS: Wan-Fu. He knocked three Killer Instinctives and one Time
Killer out of the ring.

STUPORHEROES: In general, the villains of the X-Men: Children of the Atom node

did far better than the heroes did.

'BOUT TIME, KIDS: the World Heroes finally stopped looking sick, with three
eliminations to their credit. Of course, they threw more people *into* the
ring
than almost anyone else, but...

SHOTOCLONES CAN...STICK AROUND: Haohmaru, Ryo, Robert, Dan, and Akira all had
decent showings this time around. Hanzou and Fuuma, though...the less said,
the
better.

HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF: Wolf Hawkfield and Akuma, for being eliminated by the
same guy this year as last year: namely, Haohmaru.

-----

   "And now, ladies and gentlemen," Birdman said, pulling a red apple out from

the sack, "I would like to award this to some of the best fighters here
today."
With a black marker, he scribbled something on the side of the apple and held
it
up.

   The apple read "For the Best Muay Thai Fighter".

   "Shouldn't that be a golden apple or something?" Dan asked.

   Birdman glared at him. "Thanks to the mess you and your pals made of our
hotel, we're lucky that we can afford *this*."

   "He stole it from my lunch box." Wanderer looked unhappy.

   "Anyway," Birdman said, "it is my pleasure to award this to the best Muay
Thai fighter of them all, whose skill obviously stands out among them all--"

   "Thanks, buddy!" Joe Higashi pushed his way to the front. "I appreciate
it."

   "Excuse me?" Adon said from across the room, fresh from having his arms
sewed
back on. "Everyone knows *I'm* the best Muay Thai."

   "You both suck!" Shura jumped over the heads of the reporters (very slowly)

and landed between Birdman and Joe. "This apple deserves to go to the best,
and,
of course, that's me."

   Bruce walked up and casually shouldered in front of Shura. "Only if I'm
dead,
loser."

   "That can be arranged, pal."

   Joe cracked his knuckles. "Both of you will be making a date with the
chiropractor after *I'm* done."

   Adon pushed Joe backwards. "I'll take the apple in a second, Birdman.
First... I have to take out the trash."

   "What the hell are you saying, scumbag?"

   Just loud enough for the kickboxers to hear him, Ralf yelled, "Hey,
Benimaru!
Don't you use Muay Thai?"

   "Of course I do, silly boy!" Benimaru yelled back. "What does that have
to--"

   "You want some of this, Nikkaido?" Joe demanded.

   Benimaru walked to the front. "What's wrong with you, Joey? Can't we
just--"

   "No, we can't." Joe shoved Benimaru.

   Wanderer looked at the five feuding kickboxers, then back at Birdman. "You
knew this would happen, didn't you?"

   "Of course." Birdman gently lobbed the apple into the middle of the
gathered
Muay Thais. As it flew over their heads, each one looked up and watched it
float
through the air.

   Each one, in almost perfect unison, yelled, "IT'S MINE!" As one, they
leaped
into the air after it, and came down fighting. The apple rolled to a stop
beyond
them, safely out of range of the small-scale war that erupted over it.

   Janne looked at Sagat, who had been casually leaning against the wall some
distance away. "Why aren't you involved in that melee?" she said, pointing at
the fierce brawl. "You do follow the Muay Thai style, do you not?"

   Sagat shrugged. "Why bother trying to prove you're the best when everybody
knows it?"

   All the Muay Thais heard this and immediately stopped trying to get the
prized apple.

   "Oh, I don't need that. *You* take it, Adon."

   "Me? Why would I need an ego boost? Joe, on the other hand..."

   "I'm not taking it. Let Shura have it."

   "Me? Why me? You take it, Bruce!"

   "No, that's fine, really... Benimaru?"

   "You need it more than I do, silly boy. Take it."

   "Make me!"

   "Maybe I will, man!"

   Joe snickered. "I can't believe you're arguing about not taking an apple."

   Adon smiled. "Then *you* can have it."

   "Nuh-uh!"

   "TAKE IT! TAKE THE APPLE!"

   "NO, *YOU* TAKE IT!"

   "EAT THIS!"

   *WHAM* *POW* *OOF* *THUD* *KA-BOOM*

   Sagat wandered over to the apple, long forgotten in the raging melee now
heading over to one of the exit doors. He picked it up and strode back to his
seat.

   Janne looked at him. "Interesting tactic."

   Sagat shrugged. "Not really. I don't care for the prize. But it seemed like
a
waste to let a perfectly good apple just sit there." And he took a huge bite.

   "I don't know why they're bothering, really," King muttered to herself,
sipping a martini. "Everyone knows *I'm* the best..."

   "And, now, for the last award," Birdman continued, once the brawl had
quieted
down, reaching into the almost-empty sack. He looked around, and saw the
person
he was looking for standing in the corner across from Cyclops' bed. "This
fighter has proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt--" as an aside to Scott, he
hissed, "--keep this animal *off* of me once I tell him what he's won--" he
turned back to the cameras and smiled, "--that he is among the best of his
node
and of any node--"

   A ragged voice screamed out from the crowd of reporters. "--yeah, and next
time, I'll give you the hidin' of yer *life*, Rafale!"

   "He's alive," Wanderer observed.

   "Despite the best efforts of many," Austin Loomis replied idly.

   Putrid pushed his way rudely to the front of the crowd, standing right in
front of the cameras trained on Birdman. He looked royally thrashed. "What's
goin' on?"

   Birdman, for a moment, looked very, very evil. "Putrid, I've got a little
deal for you."

-----

_Room 1798, RumbleDome Hotel_

   "Robert, this might have been foolish," Colossus said.

   "I need to know something, Peter, and you're the only other X-Man I could
reach for backup," Iceman muttered back at him. The door's lock shattered at
his
touch, and the two of them moved quietly into the suite.

   Like most of its cousins on the same floor, the hotel room, while elegant,
was damaged extensively. The sprinkler system had been on most of the night,
resulting in a smell not unlike that of a very large, wet dog. The furniture
was
warped; the floor and carpeting made unpleasant squishing sounds underneath
the
two X-Men's feet. There did not appear to be anyone home.

   "He's not here," Iceman said, irritably, just before the door slammed shut.

Colossus jerked upward awkwardly, like a marionette, and fastened himself to
the
ceiling.

   "You could have knocked," Magneto said quietly. He gently levitated into
the
center of the room, clad in a white robe and loose-fitting pants. His hair
blew
free in the slight wind his magnetism was kicking up; power coalesced at the
fingertips of his left hand.

   "I'm not here to fight," Iceman said quietly. "Erik."

   Magneto calmly took a seat. Colossus, however, remained stuck to the
ceiling.
"I admire your common sense; it is not a trait I have noticed in many X-Men."
A
glass of brandy floated across the room from the minibar to Magneto's--to
Erik's--waiting hand. "What, then, did you want?"

   "Why did you wake me up back there?" Iceman asked. "Why didn't you just
leave
me and the others to die? They were just humans, after all. Why?"

   "Is that all you have to ask me?" Erik said incredulously. "The way you
looked, I half expected you to try and convert me to Charles' volunteer
corps...again." He sipped at his drink.

   "Why?"

   "It is, Robert," Magneto said, "easy for you, and for Cyclops, and for the
rest of Xavier's brood, to imagine me as the villain." He looked up. "Even
Logan
and Storm, despite our comradeship not all that long ago, fall back into that
old role almost too easily. It has never been that simple, Robert; it never
will
be."

   "Of course it's not," Iceman retorted. "You want to take over the world--"

   "What I 'want', Robert, is to save mutantkind from itself by any means
necessary." Erik finished his drink in a single swallow, and rose to his feet.

"Our goals, Xavier's and mine, are not mutually exclusive." He clenched a
fist.
"I was, briefly, allied with Rugal to attain the samurai's soul. I am not
proud
of that, but the offer of that kind of power was far, far too tempting to pass

up. Upon my ejection from the ring at the hands of that...boy, I found that
Rugal had been all but defeated, and Demitri held the samurai's soul." Erik's
eyes met Iceman's, and held them. "I would have built a utopia, Robert, should
I
have managed to suppress my own honor long enough to take Haohmaru's power,
for
my people, and protected them for millennia to come. Demitri would have taken
the universe to hang on his belt. I could not let that happen, obviously, but
I
was detained by the security at this marvelous sporting event. By the time I
reached his apartments, Sakazaki had almost done my job for me.

   "We have never been enemies, Robert, despite what Logan or Scott or Ororo
believe. Humans have never been my enemies, save if they should act against my

people." Magneto turned away, his armor composing itself around him. His
helmet
floated towards him from the bedroom. "I saved you because of that." He set
the
helmet over his head and glanced back at Iceman. "Does that answer your
question?"

   "Yes," Iceman said, "it does."

   "I suppose that we're still enemies."

   "I don't think we have a choice in that anymore."

   "Neither did I." Colossus floated slowly down from the ceiling. "Leave me
now, Robe--Iceman. I leave this dimension shortly, and I have much to do
beforehand."

   Without another word, the two X-Men left the room, leaving Erik Magnus
Lensherr to his thoughts.

   "I am tired," Magneto said to the empty room behind them. "So tired."

   The empty room did not answer.

_Infirmary, RumbleDome Hotel_

   "And you're gonna give me King's phone number, just for this?" Putrid
demanded incredulously.

   "Yes, yes, of course I am. Now go over there and be polite," Birdman said,
pushing Putrid across the room.

   "As polite as you get, anyway," Wanderer muttered.

   The room went quiet as Putrid casually crossed the infirmary, holding a
final
statue in his hand. "Yo! Gleam-Boy!"

   The Silver Samurai turned around. "What do *you* want?"

   "Man over there says this is fer ya!" Putrid casually tossed the trophy at
the Samurai, who caught it. "Congratulations."

   The Samurai blinked once. "Thank you, most humbly. I am honored--" He
squinted at his trophy. With a terrible yell, he yanked his katana from his
sheath and cut the statue in half before turning on Putrid.

   "What the hell?" Putrid said, just before the sword bit into him.

   "THIS SAYS I SUCK! I DO *NOT* SUCK! I! DO! NOT! SUCK!!! NOT EVEN A LITTLE!
NOT A PECK! NOT A JOT! NOT A SINGLE INFINITESMAL BIT! IIIIIIII DDDOOOOOOO
NNNNOOOOOTTTTT SSSSUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!!!" The sword rose and fell. Repeatedly.

   Across the room, Wanderer winced.

   "We're gonna need another Putrid," Austin muttered. "I hope he's backed up
somewhere."

   "And, to the Silver Samurai, one of our fifth-place contestants and the
best
competitor from his node," Birdman said, cringing at the beating Putrid was
currently being favored with, "the 'You Don't Suck' Award. Congratulations to
all of our competitors! We hope to see you all next year, when we try to top
this event, at the THIRD Annual Video Rumble!" Birdman beamed.

   There was a cheer from those healthy enough to do it (as well as some
groaning); flashbulbs burst, corks popped, and a murmur of conversation sprung

up. As Birdman and the rest of the staff left, champagne was poured, and a
healthy party started, to the obvious chagrin of the medical personnel. Chin
Gentsai and Shun Di, old hands at this game, began handing out drinks they had

managed to smuggle in; this
included two small kegs and a full wet bar. Some fighters began crying into
their beer, while others raised their mugs in celebration.

   The infirmary stayed lit well into the night, long after the last of the
spectators had left, well into the morning.

   The multiverse was safe.

_Room 675, RumbleDome Hotel_

   Kyo Kusanagi threw the last of his things into his shoulder bag, and gave
his
hotel room the once-over. He still felt hollowed-out inside, his bones like
charcoal that could powder to ash at the first gentle pressure; only time
could
heal that, the result of drawing on too much of his power too fast. He
remembered it from when he had been younger, just learning how to control his
powers, and remembered that, back then, he had vowed to never feel like this
again.

   Age had a way about it of breaking one's promises, he mused, and turned to
go. With his shoulder bag in his hand, he walked towards the door. On his way
there, he kicked out from his hip and shattered his closet door into
splinters.

   "Very good," Iori Yagami said, stepping out from the wreckage. "I did not
think you'd notice I was there."

   "I almost didn't," Kyo replied. "Here to fight?"

   "Of course not," Iori sniffed. "When I kill you, Kusanagi, it will be a
fair
fight. But now? You can barely stand. Although... you *are* a holy terror
against closed doors..."

   Kyo opened his hotel room door and stepped into the hallway. "What did you
want, Yagami?"

   "Just to remind you of something." Iori stepped out next to him, past the
sign on the back of the door that depicted a cloud of smoke obscured by a red
circle and slash. He produced a cigarette from the pockets of his shirt,
lighting it with violet flame. "I beat you, Kyo. You were more powerful then,
maybe, than anyone of your bloodline, and I beat you."

   "I was insane," Kyo said flatly.

   "Be that as it may." Iori gestured ironically with the cigarette, and
flicked
ash at him. "I had you at my mercy, and I let you live. You live because of
me,
Kusanagi. Remember that while you train."

   He turned and walked down the hallway quietly, trailing smoke behind him
like
a streamer, or like a cloud, covering the moon on his back. Kyo went in the
opposite direction, his face dark.

   Kyo did not sleep well that night.

_Room 678, RumbleDome Hotel_

   "Hey, I don't need this!" Ken barked. "Those bloodsuckers never got *near*
my
mind!"

   "Do you want to risk the node on that?" Rose asked almost sadly.  "And
remember, they weren't the only mind-controllers seeking Haohmaru's soul."

   "*sigh* Oh, all right.  But, when you don't find any ooga-booga lurking in
my
head, I'll be right there saying I told you so."

   "I don't doubt it," the mystic mused as she went diving into what it
pleased
Ken Masters to call his mind.  Quite frankly, she was amazed that he could
live
in anything that small, particularly given the size of his ego.

   *Once this command takes effect, you will remember nothing specific about
the
future,* she told that ego, as she'd told the others before it and would tell
the others after it.  *Your conscious mind will not retain any information
that
could change the timestream unless you must recall it at an outsider's
prompting.  You will dream about what you learned of the future, but to your
waking hours, it will be only a rumor, a vague sense of deja vu.  This command

will take effect during your next night's sleep in our own node.*

   And when they were all done, she'd have Donovan and Rasputin check *her*
out,
and have them help her implant the same command in her own mind.  And thus,
what
the future held for them would still come as a surprise when it came.

_Rooftop, RumbleDome Hotel (the next afternoon)_

   Ryo Sakazaki, carrying a duffel bag and wearing jeans and a leather jacket,

stood on the roof, watching the Tymmobile take off with the next-to-last
payload
of fighters. Idly, he kicked at the loose chunks of concrete. He and Demitri
really had done a fair job here; he thought of Terry telling him he might have
a
future in demolitions, and smiled slightly.

   He was one of the last to go; he had chosen to go on the shuttle with the
wounded so he could see to Takuma. Robert and Yuri had left a couple of hours
ago, even though Robert had gotten moderately drunk with Dan last night and,
as
far as he knew, had yet to wake up. Looking out over the RumbleDome, he still
found it impossible to shake the thought that the entire Rumble, the plotting,

the fighting outside of the ring, had happened to someone else. It was too
ridiculously surreal to think of himself as a hero, much less to think of the
fight with Demitri or the run towards the roof.

   Shaking his head, he turned to leave, and ran directly into Morrigan
Arnsland.

   "I love the view from up here, don't you?" she asked conversationally,
fanning herself with a copy of the Rumble's souvenir catalog. Ryo raised his
fists, and she clucked her tongue at him. "Ryo, if I really wanted to fight
you,
I could have just thrown you off of the roof a moment ago." She smiled, her
fangs peeking out from underneath her upper lip.

   Relaxing, Ryo pushed his hair out of his face. "I take it your deal with
Demitri is over, then?"

   "Dear child, it was never really there...he just held all of the cards for
a
while, and it seemed best to play along." Morrigan's face was calm, but there
was something in her expression that Ryo thought he recognized; it was the
expression of a woman who is trying desperately to persuade herself that
something very different from what actually happened, happened. "We aren't
friends, and I doubt we will ever be anything but enemies..."

   "Of course." Ryo smiled at her, and Morrigan scowled. "No hard feelings,
then?"

   "Not towards you. Your friend Robert, though, and his identical
twin...that's
quite another story." Morrigan's fangs flashed again in a vicious smile. "You,

on the other hand, owe me a favor, if not several favors."

   Ryo knew exactly what she was talking about, but asked just to be sure.
"Back
in Demitri's room?"

   "Exactly." She was really very beautiful, in her own way...until you
noticed
the fangs... "Be seeing you to collect, Ryo."

   "Oh, I look forward to it," he said, his voice dripping with mock
sincerity.

   "I thought you might." Morrigan blew him a kiss, and her wings spread.
"I'll
be sure to collect very soon. See you around, love." Quietly, she flew away,
leaving Ryo spitting curses.

   Ryo turned back to the view. He felt like throwing his suitcase off of the
side, just to watch it fall; he thought, briefly, about HaohShoKohKening
Morrigan out of the sky, before discarding the idea as foolish. Feeling
another
presence behind him, he whirled on whoever it was with a spinning kick to
their
face--

   --as he saw who it was, he shifted his weight, trying to miss, and fell
over,
his balance gone, his foot passing right over Athena Asamiya's head.

   "Are you all right, Ryo? If you aren't, I'd feel so bad about it because I
didn't mean to startle you!" She knelt down next to him, fussing.

   "I'm okay, I'm okay--wait a minute. Are you still on those..."

   "No, no...I think I've given up on those medicines my government gave me."
Athena shook her head. "I've been getting advice from Ms. Braddock," at Ryo's
blank expression, she added, "you know, Psylocke, and she says that I
shouldn't
need the medications to control my powers, and I think she's right, and I
haven't needed the pills for a good five hours now, and I only see things a
little bit..."

   Ryo got up, brushing himself off. "Good to hear it. Why haven't you left
yet?"

   Athena blushed. "Well...um..."

   "What?" Ryo asked. A suspicion started to creep up in the back of his mind.

   "Well...remember when you asked me out? Back at the beginning?"

   Ryo frowned for a moment, thinking about it. "Yeah, of course I do. I'm
sorry, I've been through a lot today ...but you said you wouldn't go out with
me. I'm boring."

   Athena looked guilty. "Ryo, I was on so much medication, I would have
thought..." she trailed off, searching for a word, "...I don't know, something

really exciting was boring! Like fireworks, or fighting, or whatever. What I'm

trying to say is..." She flushed. "Well. Um, I don't think you're boring,
and..."

   Ryo looked back at her expectantly.

   "...I would like to go out with you sometime!" she burst.

   *That* settled it. This was now the strangest week of Ryo's life, and it
was
Sunday. "That's great," Ryo managed to get out. "How about...um...dinner when
we
get back home?" That last was said all in a rush.

   "Sure," she said. "I'd be happy to."

   Ryo smiled. "Good. That's...good."

   Hesitantly, he reached out his hand.

   She took it.

   The two of them walked towards the shuttlecrafts.

*****

Thomas "Wanderer" Wilde
Christopher "Birdman" Bird
Austin George "Yo" Loomis

@: the Silver Samurai, wrongly, was thought to have gotten six eliminations
for most of the Rumble; this was a mathematical error, and should be
discounted.

@@: There was a bit of confusion in Section Ten; Kim should have been credited

with two eliminations, but it was accidentally broadcast looking like he only
got one and Guy got three. Rumble management regrets the error.

------------------------
UVR2-- AFTER THE DESTRUCTION
-----------------------
Some More Scenes From An Epilogue
-----------------------

_The Sakazaki Dojo, Southtown_

 Takuma pushed his students hard in the weeks after the Rumble; the King of
Fighters tournament would begin again soon, and they were still in the
running.
Robert and Yuri complained, but got up every morning for fresh bandages and
what
training they could manage.

 Ryo, on the other hand, pushed himself even harder than Takuma. What time
that
he was not eating, sleeping, or talking to Athena on the phone, he spent in
the
gym, honing his talents. Takuma, of course, was deliriously happy, and didn't
question it at all. Robert, on the other hand, made some half-hearted jokes
about how he had apparently spent too much time talking to that Ryu guy, but
otherwise remained silent. He knew about the nightmares Ryo had been having
most
nights; Robert would usually wake up on the subsequent morning to the sound of

fists against the heavy bag downstairs, and know what had happened.

 One afternoon, about two months after the Rumble had finished, before the KOF

tournament had started back up, they had finished their workout for the day.
Takuma had told them to keep training while he ran some errands, which, of
course, meant they had about two hours' worth of prime slack time.

 Ryo had been training since six that morning, and was too tired to do much
else
but sit in one of the chairs facing the window and look out over the city. He
liked that. When he was this tired, he couldn't think about the dreams.

 Robert, meanwhile, was sprawled across the couch with a bag of chips and the
remote, dead to the three-dimensional world. Yuri walked in, rubbing her hair
with a towel, and sat next to him. She wore an expression, Ryo noted, that, if

Robert had been paying attention, would have sent him running. Yuri was up to
something.

 "Robert?" she asked in a little-girl voice.

 Ryo grimaced. She was *really* up to something.

 "Yeah, babe?" Robert asked. He'd found an old episode of "The Green Hornet".
He
was at peace with the universe.

 "I've been thinking."

 "That's good. People should think." Robert ate another chip.

 Damn it, Robert, Ryo thought, do I have to go pull the smoke alarm?

 "We almost didn't make it out back there, when you were fighting Morrigan.
When
I saw you, I thought for a second that Mai was going to kill you...and I
almost
died right there." Yuri watched Robert's face intently. Robert's face did not
leave the television. "I think that we've been dancing around this too long. I

mean, we love each other, right?"

 "Mm-hm."

 "So what are we waiting for?" Yuri moved closer. "I think we should set a
date
for the wedding, Robert. This year. Before anything else can happen. We live
dangerous lives, and I don't want to lose you before...well, before I really
*had* you, so to speak. If something should...happen...to you or to me, I want

us to have what happiness we can have in the meantime. What do you think?"

 "Sure." "Green Hornet" went to commercial, and Robert changed the channel.

 Yuri's eyes instantly started to fill with tears. "You really mean that,
Robert? Really?"

 "Of course I do," Robert said. "Do we have any more chips?"

 Yuri hugged him so fiercely he pitched over the back of the couch. Kissing
him
in between sentences, she started chattering madly. "Oh, my god, it'll be so
beautiful, Robert! I just know that this will be the greatest wedding ever.
We'll make each other so happy!"

 Robert started to figure out something had gone oh-so-slightly wrong. "Um,
Yuri?"

 "We can invite all of our friends... Mai and Andy, and King, and Terry, and
that Blue Mary girl he's always hanging out with, and even that Dan guy...do
you
think Tym would bring him? I'll bet King would let us have the ceremony in the

Cafe Illusion...that'd be nice, don't you think, all decorated?"

 "Yeah, of course it would, but for what?"

 "Oh, probably the reception, but maybe even the ceremony! I don't know, there

are so many decisions to make, it's hard to think all at once!" Yuri sat on
top
of Robert and started counting on her fingers. "I'd need to get a dress, and
you
need a new tuxedo--that old one still smells like chlorine--Ryo, would you be
the best man?"

 "Of course I would," Ryo said. "I'm hurt you have to ask."

 "Thanks a lot, Ryo," Robert muttered.

 "Anytime, old buddy."

 "I'll ask Mai and King to be my bridesmaids...that'll be so great! I'll
actually get tasteful dresses and everything..." Yuri trailed off. Robert,
meanwhile, started to get an increasingly wild look in his eyes as he stared
up
at her.

 Ryo smirked as he turned back away. Everyone had known this would happen
eventually. Once Robert got used to the idea, he'd be fine. Everything,
finally,
had gotten back to some kind of normalcy.

 "...I wonder what the kids will look like?"

 "KIDS?!"

 So to speak.

 But, Ryo thought as he looked out the window, something was still wrong. The
sun began to set over Southtown, and as it grew darker outside, his mood did
too. He had a feeling in his bones of something unfinished, and he had had it
since his conversation with Morrigan on the roof of the hotel.

 *We aren't done, are we?* Ryo thought, looking out into the coming night.
*Will
we ever be?*

_Dream City, Capcom Boulevard_

 "Explain to me again," Wanderer said from the back seat, "just why this is
necessary?"

 "It breaks down like this," Austin said amiably. The two of them were in a
cab,
speeding down Capcom Boulevard. Austin, who was used to how Dream City cabbies

drive, was leaning back casually against the seat. Wanderer, who was not, was
turning heretofore unexplored shades of green. "You've volunteered to be a
commentator at next year's Rumble. The Rumble is an independent production,
but
it's broadcast by the MVTN. Hence, you need a contract with the MVTN, or you
don't get paid. Get it?"

 "I suppose." Austin noted that Wanderer kept casting nervous glances at one
of
his bags as the cab pulled up in front of the MVTN Offices.

 The seed money to start the MultiVersal Television Network had been provided
to
Sean "Aphoriel/Kinsman" Givan and Mark "Terminator" Maestas by the businessmen

of various nodes whom the two had persuaded to invest in the generation of a
new
node for the second and later Dream Tournaments. Admittedly, many of those
businessmen were criminal masterminds and Bosses, such as Geese Howard and Mr.

Big, but every cent they contributed came from their legitimate enterprises
(for
whatever *that's* worth). The Dream Tournaments were big business now; so too
was its broadcast facility. As they got out of the cab, the building towered
above them until it vanished into the sky, obscured not by clouds, but by
sheer
distance.

 "It's...big," Wanderer boggled.

 "Y'know, I've noticed that myself on all sorts of occasions.  They're
thinking
of relocating to Southtown.  Come on!"  He grabbed ahold of Wanderer's sleeve
and yanked the newbie inside.

 "Loomis, party of two," he called out to the secretary in the lobby.

 "Right this way, sir."

 An elevator ride later, they were in the waiting room of the  Chief's office.

"PlEaSe WaIt HeRe, Mr. WiLdE," said the Gorfian robot guarding the door.
"rIgHt
ThIs WaY, mR. lOoMiS."

 "Just grab a chair or something," Austin said. "They'll get around to you."

 "Oh, joy." Wanderer looked around nervously.

 "Why are you so twitchy today, anyway?"

 "Nothing." Wanderer offered up a weak grin. "I'm just having flashbacks to
the
principal's office."

 "I get that too. Just sit tight." Austin disappeared into the office of the
President of the MVTN.

 SO, LOOMIS, the Chief thundered from the shadows of his desk, YOU WANT TO GET

THE "REAL STORY" ON THE SHENANIGANS THAT MARRED THIS RUMBLE? The door had
barely
closed.

 "That's...the general idea, sir.  I was planning to find out who was
involved,
on both sides, and ask them the right questions."

 AND WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THEY'LL TALK TO YOU?  ESPECIALLY THE VILLAINS.

 "Well, the heroes will talk about it because they're heroes.  The only
secrets
they keep are the occasional secret identity.  And some of those villains have

codes of honor that'll require them to remind the world they're not completely

maniacal -- Doom, for instance, and Magneto."

 VERY WELL.  YOU SEEM DETERMINED TO DO THIS, AND I HAVE NO DESIRE TO WASTE OUR

TIME ATTEMPTING TO PREVENT YOU.  GO.  SEEK YOUR SCOOP.

 "Thank you, sir.  You won't regret it for at least a year."

 As Austin walked back out of the Chief's offices, he noted Wanderer coming in

from another room. "Did they sign you up?" he asked.

 "Hm? Oh, yeah... yeah, they did."

 "Good to go. Let's grab a taco."

 As the two of them left the building, Wanderer swallowed hard. One of his
trenchcoat pockets contained an envelope, and he was going to make damned sure

that no one at the MVTN ever learned he had it...@

_RumbleDome Hotel_

 [The following is a transcript of a phone conversation, recorded, as is
standard procedure, in the RumbleDome Infirmary two days after the conclusion
of
the second Ultimate Video Rumble.]

PUTRID: Hey, hold the phone fer me...now dial this in, chump. I bled for this,

but it's gonna be *worth* it, damn it!

[Phone rings twice before it is picked up.]

VOICE: _Que_?
PUTRID: Yeah, yeah, I'm lookin' fer King?
VOICE: Oh, King! _Uno momento, por favor_.

[The phone is put on hold for about a minute before clicking on.]

VOICE: Hm?
PUTRID: Hey, babealicious! I *know* all you want is Big Daddy Putrid to come
by
an' rock your world!
KING: Excuse me?

[The voice is that of King, from Tekken.]

PUTRID: OH MAN! I'm gonna be sick...

_RumbleDome Hotel, Meeting Room_

 "...and, of course, the water damage to many rooms in the hotel. Toting all
of
this up, plus the recent unexpected lawsuit from Mr. Putrid claiming breach of

verbal contract and mental anguish claims," Akarui said, punching buttons on
his
calculator, "we face damages in excess of..." His eyes widened, and he did the

calculations again. Hesitantly, he named a very very large sum.

 The effect on the gathered staffmembers was dramatic. Birdman went a shade of

white usually reserved for milk. Wanderer's jaw dropped. Tristan, who was of a

delicate constitution anyway, went suddenly boneless and hit the floor.

 "What are the projected profits from this Rumble, Akarui?" Austin prompted.

 "Very good, actually," Akarui said, pulling a different set of papers out.
"The
t-shirt concession was surprisingly low--" at this news, for some reason,
Wanderer put his head on the table and covered it with his arms, "--but the
souvenir stand and the food concession did brisk business, as did the ticket
sales. We've managed to presell the movie rights, as well as a couple hundred
thousand copies of the video cassette. Also, we've already been receiving
calls
asking when tickets for next year are going on sale; apparently that news
story
we manufactured about the 'Grudge Match' was taken as gospel. Adding all this
up, we stand to make quite a lot, but it's a drop in the bucket compared to
the
repairs, and, dare I say, updates, that the RumbleDome will need."

 Birdman got up from the table and started pacing back and forth across the
room. "How much of the out-of-ring nonsense did we get on tape?"

 "The security cameras were more or less completely disabled by some kind of
electromagnetic interference," Akarui said. "I'm guessing we can trace that to

the cyberninjas, since we haven't got any footage until after I met with them
in
their room early on."

 "How did that crew of yours help, Austin?" Scott asked.

 "'Crew'?" Birdman said, stopping and looking at Austin.

 "They put a couple of spyeyes on things," Austin said. His eyes
never left the copy of the Southtown Times he was reading. "Most of 'em got
smashed during that firefight in Demitri's suite, but we've got more or less
everything up to that point, I think, plus the helicopter footage." He folded
the paper. "Great `Calvin and Hobbes' today, by the way.  *Damn,* I'm going to

miss it when it's--"

 "You had a camera following them the *whole time*??" Birdman sounded
incredulous.

 "Well, not the *whole* time, but as soon as we got Doom's tape,  I put a
camera
crew on the job.  Scott's security team told us not to put the news out over
the
air, but they didn't say we couldn't make any recordings of it."

 "That's..." Birdman's eyes lit up. "That's fantastic! We have the entire plot

to destroy the Multiverse *on tape*! We could rerelease the director's cut of
the videotapes...we'll make more than enough money to rebuild the whole 'Dome
even *better* than before!"

 Austin raised one eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'we'?"

 Birdman's jaw dropped.

 "I already checked; I've got full reign from the MVTN. I'm not an employee of

Rumble Productions, and the tape, technically, belongs to me. I already bought

off Putrid's share by paying his medical bills; I never thought anyone could
take that much damage and live." Austin's face betrayed nothing. "You don't
have
enough cash, Birdman."

 "Oh, man."  Birdman groaned, burying his face in his hands.  "*Where* am I
going to get the money?"

 Scott Johnson grinned.  "I think I can help you with that."   He looked at
where his security personnel were gathered.  "Michiko!   Candy!  Over here,
please!"  He didn't really *raise* his voice -- Scott couldn't *shout* at
anyone
if his life depended on it -- but it certainly carried.

 Candy sashayed over to the management crowd.  "Yes?  What is it *now*?"

 "I need you to confirm some things for me.  But first -- Austin?"

 Austin grinned.  "Pleasure and a privilege. -- Chicago, bucket!" The
honorary-Guardian keytool on his wrist morphed into a large bucket of water,
which he upended over Candy, then retreated to a safe distance with a speed
worthy of a Brockian Ultracricket champion.

 "Hmph."  Candy tucked an errant wisp of hair back into place and brushed down

her pinstripe suit.  "Now what seems to be the problem?"

 "Well," Scott pointed out, "we do have a question of certain assorted evil
masterminds fighting outside the ring..."

 "Ah, yes.  That's a clear violation of Volume V, Chapter xii, Paragraph 9,
Subsection c of Rumble bylaws, as you know."  She ticked off further points on

her fingers.  "Invoking a major demonic power on Rumble property without
notifying the duly constituted Magic Authority... Tampering with electrical
systems to the ultimate detriment of mechanical fighters, that's a Disability
Act violation..."  Eyes began to glaze over.

 "So what you're saying is," Enzo Matrix piped up, "you can nail these guys?"

 "While I wouldn't phrase it nearly so crudely, on the basis of these and
other
actionable acts, Rumble Productions could collect quite substantial sums from
the responsible parties.  Not to mention damages."

 "Alphanumeric!"  The rest of the Mainframe contingent nodded.

_Ultratech Building, Killer Instinct Universe_

 Number 27 walked down the hallway towards his office, listening idly to the
status report given by his assistant. His thoughts were elsewhere.

 "...the scientists say that the cloning of Orchid's new body is proceeding
ahead of schedule, and they confidently expect that she will be back on her
feet
by later tonight. Also, the repairs to the Fulgore unit were completed this
afternoon; upon activation, the unit killed several low-level technicians, but

that's par for the course--"

 "Have they found Jago yet?" 27 asked, his hands behind his back.

 "Excuse me, sir?" His assistant blinked.

 "Have. They. Found. Jago. Yet. This is not a difficult question, you
brainless
bimbo. Have they found Jago, or, preferably, the dead body of Jago, yes or
no?"

 She flipped through her notes. "Um...there's nothing in here about him being
gone, sir..."

 "Nothing about him being gone. Of course. That's right. Because as worrisome
as
him being free is, if we *ignore* it, it will *go away*." 27's voice wept
sarcasm. "Get me the chief of security on the phone. I wish to know why he is
not losing any sleep over this issue."

 "Yessir."

 His assistant scuttled behind her desk as he walked into his office. *Hmnh.
Darker than I remember leaving it...* Quietly, he poured himself a drink
before
walking over to his closet, and, inside it, his traveling case. *Sorry, Jago,
but business is business...* There was a small trash compactor in his office's

kitchenette; forcing the ninja's soul vial into it should deal with the
problem.

 Popping the catch, he reached into the case, and found...nothing.

 "I believe," a voice, rich with breeding, said from the other side of his
office, "that you are looking for these."

 A greenish light illuminated metal, then a flash of darkly-colored cloth.
Blue
eyes caught the light from behind a mask and reflected it, as the figure
seated
behind 27's desk toyed with a neat row of several soul vials, lined up in
front
of him. In one of the high-backed chairs 27 kept in front of his desk, a
purple-haired woman in a gypsy's dress sat with her legs demurely crossed.

 27's glass, forgotten, hit the floor and bounced on the carpet.

 "A neat bit of work, truly," the figure mused, "blending the metaphysical
into
the physical with such efficiency. Had my studies led me down a darker path,"
the figure straightened into the light, "this might be the kind of work that I

would be producing. Unfortunately for you, insect, Doom does not practice such

dark arts."

 The lights in the room rose softly, and 27 whipped around to see why. Behind
him, Jago stood with his back to a closed office door, one hand on the dimmer
switch.

 Doom walked regally around the side of the desk, towards 27, arms behind his
back, studying the man's face. "Why I am here is not important to you, save
that
I am here to address the issue of your foul studies. Souls are not such things

that they can be so idly bought and sold and trafficked in, and my associates
and I have come to rectify this...evil...situation."

 A bit of the bargainer in 27 resurfaced. "Fine, great. We can come to some
kind
of agreement, easily--"

 "Do not try my patience, worm. You already turn my stomach."

 "Victor," Rose said calmly, "we have his soul vials. I'll need a couple of
hours to restore them to their proper owners, but antagonizing him does
nothing
useful."

 "You are," Doom said, without looking away from 27, "right, madame. The hour
grows late, and this crime need not go unpunished a second longer."

 27 never saw it coming.

 A power blast from Doom's gauntlet struck the corporate master of Ultratech
in
the chest. Jago barely managed to duck before his already lifeless body
crashed
through the door behind them, flying out into the crowded office and bowling
over a pair of Ultratech lawyers. 27 came to a rest, eyes blank and staring
into
space, a massive smoldering hole in his torso sizzling slightly. His assistant

began screaming, a high-pitched sound like fire alarms a block away.

 Rose stood from her chair, quickly, reaching out one hand as if she could
somehow revoke the blast from 27's chest, her mouth open in shock. Even Jago,
who was no stranger to sudden death, seemed unnerved.

 Doom turned. "I shall arrange our transportation away from this dimension.
Ninja, escort the lady so that you may give your comrades back their freedom.
Rose, I shall rondezvous with you upon the arrival of my craft."

 "Was that...necessary?" Rose whispered. "Was it?"

 "Perhaps not," Doom said. "But well-deserved." He walked out of 27's office,
alarms now beginning to sound throughout the Ultratech building.

 By the end of the night, Ultratech had been dealt two devastating blows: the
first, of course, was the death of its CEO, #27, at the hands of an unknown
party. The second was the worse of the two; Jago, assisted by an unidentified
woman, had managed to reach the participants in the Killer Instinct
tournament,
and give them back their souls.

 The resulting devastation rocked the building to its very foundation.

 Shortly thereafter, Ultratech security forces were unable to stop a small
aircraft from taking off; a subsequent helicopter search proved fruitless, as
if
the craft had simply disappeared.

 Of course, they did not have the time to puzzle over this. Coming back to
report their failure, the helicopters found...nothing.

 The Ultratech building had disappeared.@@@

_Blacknoah Enterprises, King of Fighters Universe_

 "Sir?"

 "What is it, Vice?"

 "There's a woman here to see you. She says she's here representing Rumble
Productions. She's already beaten up the mundane security guards. Do you want
to
see her?"

 Rugal rubbed his eyes with his organic hand. "Might as well."

 Vice nodded, and a moment later showed in a woman dressed in an immaculate
pinstriped suit. Without any pleasantries whatsoever, the woman opened her
briefcase and threw a sheaf of papers onto Rugal's desk.

 "What are these?" Rugal asked irritably.

 "The documents for a very large subpoena, Mr. Blacknoah," the woman said. "I
represent a suit from Rumble Productions against you, Mr. Demitri Maximov, Mr.

#27, Mr. Shao Kahn, and Ms. Morrigan Arnsland for breach of contract and
destruction of property. However, due to the unavailability or sudden demise
of
the aforementioned parties, you stand as the sole defendant in this case."

 Rugal found that, for the third time that week, he had broken his desk in
half
with his cybernetic arm. "WHAT???"

 "We seek sufficient funds that we might repair the damage you and the others
dealt out to our broadcast facilities and hotel. That sum is quite sizable."

 Rugal knew that. It was written at the bottom of one of the documents. "Or?"

 "Or, you may settle out of court. I have the full power of the Network behind

me, Mr. Blacknoah. If I were to disappear, it may prove unhealthy for you and
your associates." Candy adjusted her glasses and examined Rugal. "Unless you'd

like to settle out of court...?"

 Rugal clenched his fist in rage. '95 had been a bad year, and, he feared, it
would only get worse.

_A Conference Hall in North America, Street Fighter Universe (one or two years

later)_

 "_Ohayou gozaimas_, Ken," Ryu bowed gravely.  "_Omedetou mo_."

 "Thanks, Ryu," the winner of the World Warrior Alpha Tournament acknowledged
his old friend's greeting and congratulation.  "Yo, Chunster! Who's your buddy

with the high-top fade?"

 "Col. Guile, Special Forces," the other answered in the clipped tones of a
career military man.  "I understand you knew a squadmate of mine.  Charlie
Nash."

 Ken blinked.  "You're Chuck's CO?"  He looked down.  "I'm sorry about
that..."

 "Not your fault, Masters.  You didn't do anything.  It's the man who *did* do

it that I plan to have words with."

 "Bison, ne?" Chun Li piped up.  "You can have him when I get through with
him."

 As the Green Beret and the Interpol agent began their debate over
jurisdiction,
Ken looked around at the others in the room.

 "There's Zangief and Dhalsim.  I didn't expect to see those two again.  And
who
are *those* two?"  He indicated the new arrivals, who hadn't been in the Alpha

tourney.

 "This," Ryu indicated the larger figure, "is Edmond Honda, the present
_yokozuna_ of Sumo.  We rode from Japan on the same plane.  As for
the...other..."  His voice trailed off, as they all stared at the green-furred

creature.

 "Me Blanka.  Me from Brazil.  Live in rainforest.  Do Capoeira."

 "Yeah, whatever."  Ken sighed.  "So, is our mystery host ready to explain why

he's called us all together?"

 "Yes." said the new arrival. "My name is Sean Givan.  I'd like to tell you
about something you might find very interesting."

 He explained how their world was just one "node" in a larger Video
Multiverse,
and how they had been selected, due to their popularity with the people of his

own node or world, to compete against fighters from two other nodes, the
Mortal
Kombatants and the World Heroes, to determine the champion of the Multiverse.

 "After this, I'll be speaking with M.Bison of Shadoloo and some of his
secondaries.  With luck, they'll be joining us at the tournament."

 "Secondaries?"

 "Sagat, Michael Balrog, and Fabio Vega la Salda."

 The two Shotokan fighters nodded at the mention of Bison's name -- they
remembered him from the first tournament -- and everyone had heard of Sagat,
either from the Alpha tourney, or (in the case of Honda, Guile and Blanka)
from
someone who'd been in it.


 "I'm looking forward to meeting Bison," Guile noted, cracking  his knuckles.
"We've got a lot to talk about."

 "I've heard about this Vega," Chun Li added.  "The so-called `Spanish ninja,'

ne?"

 "That's the one.  When I get through with him, he'll *need* that mask he
wears."  The Special Forces man socked his palm grimly.

 "I'm feeling...I don't know...*pumped* about this," Chun Li said out of thin
air.  "Like anything's possible."

 Ryu surveyed the pictures of their opponents that Kinsman had provided. "This

`Liu Kang'...he looks familiar, for some reason."

 "Checked a mirror lately?" Ken grinned.@@

_someplace darker_

 Catherine looked at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Her hair simply

wasn't right. Realizing she was frowning, she abruptly stopped; no frown lines

would appear on *her* face. The Master wouldn't like that. At all.

 Suddenly, from the Master's private summoning room, she heard a loud crash.
She
rose to her feet quickly. If one of the other worthless sluts the Master had
seen fit to rank as being her equal had been in there, Catherine would have an

excuse to mete out justice immediately. The Master had said nobody was to
enter
without his permission except to stop an intruder.

 Reaching for the door handle (it was probably Contessa who was in there, the
worthless slut always closed the door behind her) she turned the ornate handle

and shoved the door open.

 Before her eyes she saw horror. Someone...something was trying to come in via

the Master's summoning portal (Catherine knew what it was after the time the
Master showed her the small imp she had selected to wipe out her home
town--they
had never appreciated her properly anyway). A figure, burnt beyond
recognition,
was clawing its way forward despite the strange nine-clawed hand grasping onto

one leg like a vise. Suddenly, the figure turned its head toward her and
opened
its eyes with an audible cracking sound; Catherine realized its eyelids had
been
burnt shut.

 "caaaaatherine." The husk of a voice was the Master's, barely recognizable,
but
Catherine knew those tones anywhere.

 She quickly ran over behind the portal gate and slammed her hand down on the
picture of a strange looking man dressed all in black (the Master always
looked
amused when she asked what it was). The gate collapsed, leaving the master and
a
quivering six-foot length of arm in the room.

 Catherine rushed over. "Oh, my master! Are you hurt? Can I..." Catherine
never
got out the word "help" as fangs thrust into her neck. Her vision dimmed.

 Demitri's flesh began to grow back as he drained Catherine's body of all the
blood within. Suddenly, sensing the reservoir was empty, he threw the lifeless

husk down and wiped his mouth with a (nonexistent) cuff. Staggering to his
feet,
he lurched for the door.

 *Sakazaki.*

 "Contessa! Albrida! Gwendolyne!"

 He could hear the feet of the women racing to greet him, all anxious to be
first.

 *We are not done yet, Sakazaki. We are never done.*

 "Master! Are you all right?"

 *Never done.*

*****

@[They did eventually. Check out the Reintroduction to DTIV, available at
http://dt4.ecom.net.]

@@[For the full story beyond this point, check out the first three Dream
Tournaments at ftp://brawl.ecom.net/pub/dream-tournament.]

@@@[Into the past, for the second Killer Instinct tournament.]

Thanks for UVR2 go out to:
Scott Archer, for webpage archiving, the chat room, and generally going the
extra mile, if not further. Thanks, man. (Visit our chat site, folks. Can't
believe we have one, but we do: http://jupiter.beseen.com/chat/rooms/d/974/)
Austin Loomis, of course, for his glosses and text editing.
Scott Johnson, for not killing me over his mischaracterization in Section
Thirteen results.
Victar, for editing Section Fourteen results for clarity and for his feedback.

Anthony "Little Mac" Jennings, for feedback and peer editing.
Hunter, for being a pain in the ass for the sake of motivation. :)
Kevin "Emerald" Kanda, for the exchange of compliments.
And, of course, last but
of-course-he's-not-least-because-he'd-beat-me-up-if-he-was, Christopher
"Birdman" Bird for starting this.

That's it; see you at UVR3!

Christopher "Birdman" Bird
Austin George "Yo" Loomis
Thomas "Wanderer" Wilde