The Displaced Tournament of Power

The end of the Displaced Tournament of Power was finally here and down in Ponyville, everyone was celebrating the end of it. A long and arduous ten hour battle in which Dillan and his universe arose victorious. Among the fighters, some were eating, some were drinking, and some were dancing. Some of the Commanders were here, but Akainu was not. Fujitora was gratefully eating some at Arthur’s Ramen Shop. Arkham was sitting down, his body still injured and broken. He looked on at everyone as he sat on a chair by a table, in his lonesome. His left was completely gone and his right arm crackled with sparks flying out. His hand no more, the only thing that made it look like an arm was what was left of his forearm and his shoulder.

Arkham wore the spare helmet Deltorix gave him as his old one was too broken for him to see out of. He looked around, his eyes blurring at times due to the damage to his body. He rested back against the table, leaning on his right elbow. He saw everyone celebrating, even Herobrine and he didn’t do anything. Yet despite all of the people, he couldn’t help but feel alone; was Noel really important to him? He didn’t even know who he was eleven hours ago. So why was Noel still on his mind? Why wasn’t he unbothered? Why can’t he get him out of his head?!

“...Noel, huh?” Arkham snapped out of his trance and glanced over at the person sitting next to him. They were a woman with unruly long light purple hair with white stripes, a purple dress with a string of purple pearls, two stockings covering her legs, one dark purple and light pink the other dark purple and a light purple. While her clothing choice was rather odd, it was her eyes that were the strangest, pinkish purple in color with no pupil, only a spiral that swirled around her iris.

Arkham nodded, “Yes, Noel,” he turned his head so he could face her fully. “Honestly, I thought you were Tina for a second.”

A chuckle fell out of her lips, “No, it’s me,” she put a hand on her chest. “Screwball, Spirit of Chaos…” She tried to make her voice as chaotic and wacky as she could, but her words only came out in a dry croak.

“Still hung up on Ryker, huh?” He asked.

Screwball pursed her lips together, “Yeah,” she looked out towards everyone celebrating. “I just wish I could have been his warden. I could do a way better job than Alucard. I wouldn’t just rape him everyday and torture him. I would teach him how to love, how to care, how to be better.”

“Screwball, he knew what he was doing was wrong and he still did it.”

“He was desperate, damn it!” The Spirit slammed her fist on the table, “He wanted our daughter back!”

Arkham sighed, “He killed billions. Hundreds of billions in seven-thousand-years. He even killed you.” Screwball looked away from the Commander, “He’s beyond redemption.”

“So, what?” She clenched her teeth, tears threatening to form under her eyes. She turned to glare at him, “He’s supposed to atone by being violated every day? Being treated like a slave?!”

“Look at what he did to me,” The Knight raised his ruined arm, “He turned me into a monster.”

“He made you better!”

Arkham glared at her and Conqueror’s Haki oozed out, causing a miniature shockwave. “Do not say that again.”

The Spirit’s eyes widened under Arkham’s glare, she wanted to retort but knew it wasn’t right. She let out a sigh, her gaze lowering to the floor, “I’m… Sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t…” she crossed her arms, “I shouldn’t have said that. That was messed up to say… I just…” She turned back to Arkham with tears in her eyes. “I just want my Ryky back. I want things to be back as they used to be…”

“That can never happen and you know it,” The Commander huffed, “This is the only way he can atone. The Age of the Emerald Eye is over,” he turned his head to look at Katakuri and Elia talking. “The Age of the Dough King is now.”

Screwball gave Katakuri a side-eye and frowned a little. “Give me a moment, Mike…”

“It’s Arkham.”

She turned back and glared at him, “I’ll call you whatever I damn well please, you filthy cripple.” She spat before exploding into fireworks. Leaving Arkham alone by himself, surrounded in the smoke left after the explosion. The Knight looked at where she once was and let out a pained sigh. His body aching from everything he went through during the tournament.

Lord Twigo walked around, handing ramen to guests invited to the celebration. But soon, he arrived at Berserker's table with a plate full of bowls of ramen in hand. “Would you care for some ramen?” he asked with a smile on his face.

“Sure.” Berserker nodded, helmetless, as were his Night Sentinels. Each bowl of ramen was handed to them. “Thanks.”

Lord Twigo gave them a nod before looking outwards towards the party, “Hm… I’m expecting a few rank-downs in the Commanders. Maybe for… Ganondorf and I. We didn’t do too much during the tournament.” He laughed and scratched the back of his head.

“That sucks.” Berserker commented with the others nodding in agreement. His princesses’ ears wilted at the penalty. “At least you aren’t getting killed off. That’d be fucked up.”

The Knight turned to look at Berserker, “Indeed it would! Although, I am not sure there will be rank downs, it’s just an assumption – a hypothesis, a theory. However, I am expecting some rank-ups…” He turned to look at the battered and broken Arkham Knight sitting by his lonesome.

“He had it rough.” Berserker mentioned the final battle between Arkham and Dillan.

“True,” Lord Twigo nodded, “But at least he can’t scar, you, however…” he looked at Berserker’s armored chest. “...I apologize about that.”

“Eh, no worries. Scinoxes do a good job at patching you up.” Berserker thumbed at the mysterious cloaked women.

“Hello!” The Knight waved at the mysterious group with a bright grin. “Thank you for patching up my friend!”

“Our pleasure, Sir Knight.” One of them spoke, her cloak gray instead of a deep black that seemed to absorb the light and keep shrouded in darkness. “Don’t worry about the scarring. It’s just another badge of honor for him.” Berserker rolled his eyes with an amused smile.

His grin reverted to a smile, and with it, he nodded. “That is true. He seemed like the type,” he laughed at the memory of when they fought. “Ah, what a fight to tell everyone back home. Fought a Commander of an army and shoved him through lava.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Berserker let out a chortle before his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in thought. “Still, this proves that while we’re good at fighting against demons, that doesn’t necessarily mean we can fight against any and all. This tournament showed us that.” The others nodded in agreement.

“You did incredible; unfortunately, I was too powerful. Berserker, you are a powerful anchor, and if everyone else was less than or equal to you, I would be in trouble.” Lord Twigo noted, crossing his arms, “I will admit and say everyone was easy to take down in your team but you.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Krimzon grumbled and the others muttered under their breaths.

“Yeah, let’s not forget the fact that you’re an anime character from one of the most beloved series.” Berserker recalled from what little he could remember of his old life.

“The only one beloved in that show is Escanor. Seven Deadly Pedophiles is horrible,” Lord Twigo hummed, crossing his arms. “I am dead serious when I say that the character I was Displaced as is an Episode One villain that died.”

“Wait, really? Well, shit.” Berserker swore with a scratch on his head.

Lord Twigo nodded, “Yup. And the character was a bastard too. Which is why I try to brighten everyone’s day wearing his face. Because a true Holy Knight would make the darkest days shine the brightest.”

“Well, speaking of brightening up the day, what sort of drinks do they have around here?” Berserker asked, because he still owed Lord Twigo a drink.

The Knight put his hands on his hips, “Everything! And I do mean, everything… Regrettably.”

“Hm, Lemon and Lime Vodka.” Berserker wanted and his group looked at him. “What?”

“You’re not gonna go crazy as soon as you see it, are you?” Ionyx questioned and Berserker rolled his eyes.

“Are you really gonna accuse me because of my withdrawals?” He snapped back indignantly.

“Yes.” His group answered and Lord Twigo raised a brow.

“I will admit,” The Knight hummed, “knowing this, I shouldn’t give you what you want; but who am I to deny a man a good time? Especially after getting beat by one of the finalists,” with a flash of light, he shot off towards the distance. But he came back the moment he left, carrying bottles of lemon and lime vodka. He set them on the table, “Tada~!”

Berserker grinned maniacally and reached for his bottle, only to get his hand slapped away, “Oi!” His bottle was taken away, “Hey!” And he received a quick knuckle sandwich in the face! “Ah, fuck!” He muffled out while holding his face in pain.

“We saw that look and grin!” Sellox said pointedly as she held his bottle.

“We had to stop you from going feral again.” Ionyx told as he unclenched his right hand.

“Seriously, we need to resolve these withdrawal problems.” Krimzon declared with a shake of his head. “Regardless, thanks for the drinks Lord Twigo.”

Suddenly, Ruiner - who was still piloting Quill’s body - stumbled clumsily into the room, nose in the air as he sniffed around. Presumably, he was sniffing for any trace of Quill and the others’s souls, but as he breathed the air in a bit more, his annoyed expression said that he’d still had no luck.

“Hail, fair Dragon!” Lord Twigo waved a hand at Ruiner, “How are you, my friend?”

Noticing Twigo and Berserker, Ruiner smiled a little as he began to walk over… but he took a single step before collapsing onto the ground. “Oh fucking…” Ruiner let out a sigh as he picked himself up. “How the hell does Quill walk around with this cloak and hair all day?” He mumbled, walking the rest of the way over to the table and taking a seat.

“Anyway, I’m doing… okay as I can be, honestly.” Ruiner set his head down on the table. “Which isn’t very good.”

“To put it in a way my good friend Berserker would say: ‘you look like someone pissed in your coffee’.” Lord Twigo quipped before turning to Berserker and his team, “Was that a good impression?”

“…Close enough.” Berserker rubbed his face and shook the lingering pain away.

He turned back to Ruiner, “So… I assume Katakuri didn’t help you in your predicament?”

Shaking his head a little, the Elder Dragon replied. “Well, he said he’d help but could only do so if I located the souls of Quill and the others. And I’ve yet to find shit.” Perching his chin into the palm of his more draconic arm, Ruiner let out a breath of annoyance. “I’ve caught their scent like seven different times, yet whenever I think I’m close they always disappear! It’s ridiculously agitating.”

“Perhaps you need a drink to ease your mind,” he opened his hand and a cup appeared. Zabuza poofed into existence next to him and poured liquid from a teapot. Lord Twigo offered the tea to the Dragon, “Calming Jasmine Tea.”

Smiling softly with thanks, Ruiner gently took the cup. “Twigo, you and Zabuza are saints.” He sipped the tea a bit as the tension visibly left his features. “Oh, that’s good tea. It’s been a while since I’ve had some.”

Lord Twigo nodded, “Would you like any, Berserker?” He turned to his friend as another cup appeared in his hand to be poured by Zabuza.

“It is very calming,” the Shinobi offered.

“Sorry, no. I’m not British.” Berserker declined while making a diss against the English.

“Fair enough,” Lord Twigo nodded as did Zabuza.

“It’s always nice when the fighting is all done, don’t you think, good friend?” The Shinobi asked, drinking tea through his mask.

The Knight smiled, “Yup! While I like the art of combat, the art of celebration simply can not be beaten.” Zabuza nodded and turned to Ruiner.

“Well, I guess you’ll be stuck like that for a while. Maybe we Commanders can help you.”

“Hey, Ruiner?” A voice called for the Elder Dragon in Quill’s body, and peeking through the crowd was Zirconis, back in human form. “Something’s going on that might warrant your attention.” He began to walk over.

“Hah?” Ruiner looked over with tired eyes. “Oh for fucks sake… what is it?” Ruiner asked, massaging his forehead.

“The Brick is glowing.” Zirconis stated, standing beside the group.

“... fucking what?”

Zirconis dropped the Brick of Ankhseram™ onto the table, and it was indeed glowing with gold and black magic. “The fucking Brick is glowing and I don’t know what to do.” He looked nervous and worried.

“The hell do you think I’m gonna do? I ain’t Quill, I don't know what the shit’s goin’ on with a glowing Brick that the Goddess Ankhseram threw at you!” Ruiner snapped angrily. “Go get Zeref or something!”

“I went to him first and the second he saw the Brick, he told me to take it away from him or he’d make me eat it with my ass.” The Jade Dragon responded. “... and I wasn’t willing to risk that.”

Ruiner opened his mouth to snap at Zirconis once more, but then he had to duck as the Brick of Ankhseram shot off the table and landed on the ground, several feet away from the group. Slowly turning to look at the Brick, said item began to vibrate and dance around the ground, cracks forming in it rapidly. Then, with magical force it shattered apart, the shards flying into the air before suddenly stopping mid air, a black and golden swirl of intense magic forming a spiral portal. Looking at the portal with wide eyes, Zirconis and Ruiner slowly looked at one another before looking back at the portal.

“Didn’t know it could do that.” Zirconis mumbled.

Lord Twigo raised a brow, “Huh, I wonder who that could be?” He took a small sip of tea.

Then, a foot stepped through, wearing black heels with golden highlights. And slowly, the rest of the person stepped through. Dressed in rather scantily clad black armor, the voluptuous woman had long, flowing blonde hair that floated, yes, floated a few inches off the ground, black thigh, chest, and waist armor that seemed to flow with magical properties as if her clothing were made entirely out of something both natural and unnatural. Arms protected by black and gold metallic bracers, and shoulders armored by spiky black pauldrons, the woman’s silver eyes gazed over the people present, analyzing everything. Two black horns adorned her head, four large wings of black feathers draped to her back almost like a cape, and a slithering tail snaked from her lower back, waving idly as the woman’s eyes locked onto Quill’s body, and Ruiner who was in control of it. Walking over to Ruiner, the woman’s fair skin shone with an almost divine magic as those present could notice only one singular flaw on her; a jagged scar that ran almost to her eye from under her right cheek.

Standing in front of Ruiner, the woman, who seemed to be barely an inch shorter than Lord Twigo, glared at him. “So, uh… who would you happen to-” Ruiner tried to ask, before the woman’s hand shot up and grabbed the Dragon King by the face, covering his mouth as he let out a muffled shout of shock.

Pulling Ruiner out of his chair and looking at him with anger, the woman spoke slowly. “You have no idea how annoying you and Quill really are, do you, Ruiner?” She asked, getting a confused muffled shout from the Ruiner Nergigante.

Sighing to herself, the woman unceremoniously dropped Ruiner to the ground, before bringing her fingers up to her temples. “I mean seriously? Eating a me-damned Dynastone?! How stupid can one dragon be? Let alone one and six Elder Dragons!” She angrily hissed. “You are an S-tier headache.”

Scrambling to his feet, Ruiner looked at the woman. “Okay, who the fuck are you!?” He shouted with confusion.

“I thought the name of the Brick I threw at Zirconis would have made that obvious.” The blonde blinked. “Or did the brain damage that Bullet gave Quill also make its way to your soul, Ruiner?”

Ruiner’s jaw remained open as his orange eyes widened, his words then hopped into Zirconis’s as he used them instead. “Holy fuck, you’re the Goddess Ankhseram.” Both Dragon’s eyes were wide, staring at the Goddess before them.

“At least Fujitora didn’t break your brain when he caved in your chest, Zirconis.” Ankhseram mumbled before taking a few steps back. “But yes, I am Ankhseram, the Grand Goddess of Fiore and Goddess of Curses and Death. And now, I’m here to clean up Quill’s mess and get that idiot’s souls back into his body.” She explained.

“Charming.” Berserker said flatly. His group completely ignored the fiasco and focused on eating their ramen and drinking their beverages.

The Holy Knight waved a hand at the Goddess, “Hello, Ankhseram!” He grinned brightly.

Looking over to Lord Twigo, Ankhseram’s annoyed expression immediately lit up like the 4th of July, her silver eyes practically sparkling with joy as she gasped happily. “Twiggy!” She chirped gleefully, speedily walking over and smiling brightly, holding her arms open for a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again!”

Lord Twigo embraced the Goddess with his smile remaining on his face, “It is indeed! How is everything back at home, my little star?”

Watching this exchange, Zirconis and Ruiner’s eyes were practically bulging from their skulls with shock, but Ankhseram didn’t seem to notice as she giggled a little. “Oh, you know, same as always. Although that one Wizard’s Guild is getting rowdier than usual, but that shouldn’t be too much of a concern.” She hummed happily. “But what about you, how’s everything on your end?”

“What is happening right now?” Ruiner whispered to Zirconis.

“I have no fucking idea.” Zirconis whispered back

“I’ve been doing good, made some friends and some students,” Lord Twigo turned his head to look at Berserker and his team. Still having Ankhseram in his arms. “Say hello to my bestie!”

The Goddess of Curses and Death gave a small, cheery wave and smile to her bestie’s students. “Hello~!” They waved back at her, save for the Scinoxes, who looked her way and she became uncomfortable. What made it even more unsettling was the fact she just realized that they were cursed.

Berserker looked between the two. “Is there something you want to share-.”

“Don’t.” Krimzon cut in and warned against it. “It’s one of their secrets. Let’s just say their clothes are more than a ‘traditional’ fashion statement.” He glared at Ankhseram, who flinched away from his piercing gaze. “Not a word about it.”

Scoffing with a soft smile, Ankhseram hummed a little. “Oh please, I’d never without one’s consent.” She responded, her own gaze piercing just as equally before letting up as she gently broke her hug with Twigo. “Now, before we catch up any further, I should probably deal with that one’s soul shenanigans.” She gestured to Ruiner. “So, I must ask… where is the Fifth Generation Time Dragon Slayer known as Michael?” Ankhseram inquired her friend.

“Well,” Lord Twigo cleared his throat, “He’s known as the Arkham Knight more so than his real name,” he noted. “But he’s over–” he turned over and gestured to Arkham’s broken and battered form. His right arm slowly crumbled with a few gears falling out of it as he moved his stump. He glanced down at the stump and looked up to find that a familiar Eliatrope – Kyle – was walking over to him. “–there. He’s alive.”

“Ope! Well I apologize for using the wrong name and–” Ankhseram paused as she saw the state he was in. “–oh dear, that does not look pleasant.” She grimaced a little. “And it’s unfortunate. As he’d likely not survive what I’d need to do in order to return Quill and the other Elder Dragons to their body.” She hummed thoughtfully.

Lord Twigo hummed and started petting his friend’s hair, “Well, can’t you just… Do the thing? You know, the thing? On Ruiner?”

Thinking for a few seconds, Ankhseram smiled as she extended her finger to Arkham, six visible strands of magical energy connecting her fingertip to the Arkham Knight’s chest. “Twiggy, you are an absolute genius.” She walked over to Ruiner, who looked at her with a nervous expression.

“H-Hi?” He said awkwardly.

Suddenly, Ankhseram reeled her hand back, the one with the six strands of magic connected to Arkham’s chest, and let loose a Goddess-level pimp slap straight the cheek of Quill’s body. The action was repeated thrice over as with the last replay, the face of Quill’s body was warped around the Goddess’s hand, spit and saliva being sent flying as Ruiner shouted with incredible slow motion pain. Zirconis physically winced at the impact of the strike, and the exact second she slapped Ruiner, six different colored orbs of light were yanked out of his chest and slammed into the Elder Dragon, sending Quill’s body flying across the room with even more force. With the body skidding across the floor, Ankhseram hummed happily as her hand was still smoking from the sheer weight she’d put into that slap.

“Oh, that was very cathartic.” She sighed wistfully and with satisfaction. “Well, that takes care of that issue.” Ankhseram turned to Twigo and she literally skipped over to him. “Now, let’s catch up, shall we?”

“But of course,” Lord Twigo wrapped a hand around her shoulder and pulled her along. Before he did, he gave a wink at Berserker and his team and tossed over a medal. “Call upon me if you’re ever in a pickle, my good friend!”

“Thanks.” Berserker gave a two-finger salute as the two walked off.

Walking over to Quill’s body, Zirconis crouched down. “Damn, she slapped the souls back into you!” Quill, and yes it was actually Quill this time, merely groaned in pain as he remained face-down on the floor. “There, there, buddy. There, there.” Zirconis chuckled, gently patting Quill’s back, helping him sit up. “Meanwhile, I’m gonna try and not have an existential crisis over wondering how and why Lord Twigo knows the Grand Goddess of Fiore.”

“QUILL!”

Before Quill could blink, out of fucking nowhere Bullet dropkicked the Dragon King right in his chest, sending him flying.

Zirconis stared at this before raising his hand. “Could I get some tea, please?”

Gar happily ate as much food as he could, more like greedily stuffed his face. He needed to replenish his lost energy and magic though and this was all he could do.

The angels were all too eager to get him seconds or whatever he wanted. Adreana actually joined her master while Yuki just silently stood in the background.

Ichigo and his ground were off doing their thing, mostly Spike, Luna, and Rainbow while the shinigami had gone off on a tie ride about Ed pulling him and how he owed him. There was also something about sticking a red hot iron spike up his ass. Most didn’t really pay attention as they just wanted to enjoy the much earned festivities.

Sora tapped his foot as he looked over his team. “Well, first of all,” he pointed to Sol, “I realize it’s been forever since you’ve gotten the chance to really cut loose, but try not to endanger everyone with radiation poisoning next time.”

Sol grinned unapologetically.

Sora’s finger moved to Luna. “No therapy in the middle of a fight.”

Luna stuck out her tongue at him.

Coco, Gleaming, and Cloud were next. “No notes. Your summons were awesome, and the two of you did better than anyone could have expected protecting her.”

Gleaming and Cloud saluted while Coco blushed.

Jazz, Strongheart, and Fancy. “Good teamwork and bad luck in your match-up. I thought our opponents were gonna be a little less crazy than that. You did your best.” A trio of muttered thanks.

And finally, Clutzy. “And you… I don’t even understand what you did. But keep doing it. Oh, and talk to Blitz when we get back so you can figure out how to maneuver while using that Rainboom.”

Clutzy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“And of course,” he jabbed a thumb at his chest, “I was flawless and brilliant.” Sol and Luna rolled their eyes while everypony else cocked eyebrows. “Overall, a fantastic representation. Here’s hoping we never have to deal with crazies like these guys in our world. For now, relax. Have fun. Chat with people. Kicker, get laid. Make some good memories before we all return home to continue the good fight against the darkness. Dismissed!”

Luna quickly and quietly peeled away from the others. Sora had said no therapy in the middle of a fight, but the fight was over now. She wondered whether Noel would be more open to talking with her now. She searched the sea of foreign forms, trying to spot him.

She would find that the False Bahamut was nowhere to be found, sure, she had found dragons but none were Noel. There were Wakfu Dragons that walked with their Eliatrope counterparts, ice cream in hand. There was Authur who was cooking up a storm and handing out plates that held bowls of ramen to Unicorns to serve to tables. With each passing Unicorn, she decided that she’d might have better luck following some of the waiters and waitresses with her eyes. Each time, it was unsuccessful. She had found tables of Minotaurs, tables of Earth Ponies, she even found tables of… Arkham?

The Knight sat by his lonesome, a waitress had trotted over to him and handed him a bowl of ramen with chopsticks. He turned his head to look at them drying through his mask. His left arm was completely gone, his right arm; a stump. He had no way of eating it. Despite her well-rounded and alert sense of hearing, she couldn’t quite make out what Arkham was saying to the waitress. Regardless, the waitress left with the bowl, leaving him alone again.

“It would appear that you require some assistance,” Luna said, approaching and sitting across from him. “If I may?”

The Knight looked at Luna with a tired expression; she could tell just by looking at him. His slouched back, his lean on the table. “...Sure,” he gave her a nod.

Luna nodded in return, her horn lighting up. Arkham felt a tingling at the end of his limbs before phantom arms appeared. A few tests showed that they responded almost perfectly to his mental commands. “A useful little spell,” Luna said, her voice filled with pride. “Our ponies developed it two centuries ago to aid those who had lost their limbs to retain their muscle memory while magical prosthetics were crafted for them. They should respond as your own limbs.”

Arkham looked down at the shadowy hands. He clenched them and unclenched them. “Thanks,” he turned to her, “I appreciate your help.” He turned his body to face her with a wince, “So, I don’t suppose you came here just to ‘fix’ my arms, huh?”

Luna raised a curious eyebrow. “Would that not be reason enough to join you?”

He let out a breathless chuckle, “I don’t know anymore. Everything’s a…” he paused for a moment and raised a finger. He swirled the finger next to his head, “...A mess up in HQ. This all feels like a blur to me.”

Luna nodded. “I believe I understand. This entire tournament has been a surreal experience. Almost akin to a dream.” She chuckled. “Almost. But to your point, I did have another reason to approach. I was hoping that you could direct me to Sir Noel. Our discussion was interrupted by violent combat, and I was hoping that we could continue it.”

The Knight paused and turned away from Luna. He looked out to the crowd of people and for a moment, stared like that for a while. Everyone’s voices, their chatter, slowly muffled to nothing. But he shook his head clear before he could sink further into his thoughts and turned back to Luna. “He… Left. After I was eliminated, he and I had a one on one and he decided he didn’t want to join in the ‘celebration’. Which is… Kinda fair. So, he, uh… He left.” He made an exploding gesture with his right hand, “Poof, gone. Went into a portal to his homeworld.”

Luna nodded. “That is a shame. I hope that our paths cross again.”

Arkham nodded as well, “Yeah. I, uh… Hope so too.” He paused and let out a deep sigh, “...If I took the finale seriously and more tactically, Noel would be home. Y’know? Not having to deal with Equestrian bullshit. If I had roped everyone together – and I know I can do it, I did it to Quill and Berserker – and got everyone to jump Ichigo. Then that fight possibly would have taken out Dillan, but I decided to split up the trio I brought together and go in a three-way fight with your man.” He pointed to Luna, “Hindsight really is a bitch, huh?”

Luna nodded, her eyes looking into the past. “Indeed. So many regrets. So many lost opportunities and mistakes.” Her eyes focused on Arkham again and she gave him a kind, soft smile. “Do not obsess over what you could have done or should have done. The past is a world which we can never again traverse. Learn from its lessons and move forward; that is all that any of us can do. To dwell in the past would be to dishonor those whom we may help in the present.”

“You make a great point, and you’ve given me insight. If there’s anything that I have learned from this tournament; it’s the fact that if you want to help people in need, if you want to make sure you never disappoint people who have faith in you; you need to be strong. You need strength. To quote a man who fought in a tournament similar to this, ‘strength is justice, strength is absolute’. And I will use this loss to make sure I never lose again.” The Knight huffed, “Especially if I promised I would win.”

Luna frowned. “I do hope that that man referred to more than simply physical might. I have found that the strength of the heart is more important; if you lack that, then your mightiest blows will be of no help to anyone but yourself.”

Arkham crossed his arms, “Right… But if I–” he paused for a moment, “Living in the past. You told me about that,” he shook a finger and chuckled. “Oh, and I’ll have to thank you, Luna. Again. You helped Kyle, he seems…” he looked off towards his Eliatrope friend on the dance floor who was spinning on his head, “...A lot more at peace.”

Luna smiled and nodded. “I am glad that I could help. That is all that I ever wish to do.”

“TROLLUNA!!!”

“FAMILY DOESN’T COUNT, CAKE-FLANK!!!”

“Oh yeah,” Arkham stood up, only to stumble back into his chair, “Your brother offered drinks.” He turned to Luna, “Well, I should be off. You got another appointment,” he started to hop on one foot as his left one was ruined. He used the last of his Admiral Capabilities in his suit to make a tripod at his left foot to stabilize his movements. He gave one last glance at Luna before waving goodbye and used his Observation Haki to look for Sol.

“Uh, sister?” Luna heard one of her alternative selves and saw it was the one with the armored warriors. Both she and Celestia had dragged a rather pouty Berserker. Bottles of alcohol in her magic. She couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Would you be willing to be his therapist? I know it’s sudden and you just got done with Arkham, but he really needs one.”

Luna eyed Berserker and shrugged, gesturing to the seat across from her. “I would not mind. But I do have a price.” Her horn flared and a stack of photos appeared on the table, showing her brother in a pink, frilly dress. “Distribute these to every interested party in your world and every Displaced you meet.”

“Did he lose a bet?” Celestia asked flatly and stared disappointedly in Sol’s general direction. “In any case, is this the price?” She questioned before grabbing the sack and placing Berserker’s drinks on the table with soft clacks.

“Indeed.” Luna smirked. “He bet that ‘he’ was the standard across the multiverse after our first encounter with another Displaced. We have yet to hear word of another male alicorn diarch.”

“Well, thank you for your service. C’mon Mr. Hot Mess, get in there.” Luna commanded and Berserker sat himself down with a whine. “We’ll leave you two to it.” With that, the sisters returned to their group’s table.

Luna eyed Berserker for a moment before lighting her horn, opening a small portal and pulling out a bottle. She uncorked it, a powerful alcoholic scent emitting from inside. She took a long swig before letting out a sigh. “So? What’s the scoop?”

Berserker became less nervous and unscrewed the cap from his first bottle and skulled the whole thing. The scent and taste of two citrus fruits mixed with vodka calming his nerves further. “Where do I even begin?” He asked, almost like a plea for guidance. It was rather cute: a warrior who knows his way around a battlefield, but awkwardly lacking in his sociability in a ‘polite’ society.

Luna shrugged. “The beginning’s as good a place to start as any.”

Berserker thought about it. “Which one: my humanity, or displaced?” He grabbed another bottle but this time took a sip from it. “To be honest, my life before this was relatively normal. I had my ups and downs, fell through the cracks, found out I was on the spectrum. Maybe that’s where all my anger came from: being judged by the ‘normies’, when said ‘normies’ were more messed up in the head while I wanted to live.” He shook his head at the hypocrisy.

Luna let out a long sigh and took another swig of her drink. “Normal people suck,” she muttered in agreement before waving for him to continue.

“Then there’s my family, that both heals and hurts you the most.” Berserker lowered his head and Luna’s ear wilted. “You know what’s even worse? I can remember their faces and the things we’ve done together, yet I cannot remember their names. Not even our family surname. All I have is my first name. That’s it.” He sighs before downing the rest of his second bottle. “I miss them, even after over ten millennia. That hurts more than the scars I’ve received in battles.”

“Sora’s lucky in that regard,” Luna muttered. “He’s forgotten everything from his old life on Earth. But those first few centuries…” Luna chugged the rest of her bottle before pulling out another. She bit the cork and yanked it out, spitting it to the side before taking a long pull. “Memories. Feather memories and all the pain they cause. Better just to throw the past away, huh?”

“Not all of it.” Berserker countered. “The bad, yes. But we shouldn’t forget about it. Otherwise, how will we help or relate to those going through it themselves? There’s…still so much work to do. So many wrongs that need to be made right. Running parallel to that: remembering all the good things and bringing them back into the forefront. Hate is easy, priceless, thus worthless. Love takes time, thought and effort to nurture. Far more worthy than that useless concept.”

Luna hid a small smirk behind her bottle before taking another swig. “Eh, whatever you say. Still, at least we can agree that normal people suck.”

“They suck because they’re the most easily manipulated twats. Sheep, that’s what they are. We? The Wolves. We move on, we progress and prosper. They stay put, they stagnate and decline. What do they do? How do they get out of their own filth? They shift the blame unto us. They point and label us as the root cause of their problems. And, like that, it’s war.” Berserker scoffed indignantly. “One they cannot win in the long run.”

“Ha! True. The unwashed masses are idiots and blind ponies, incapable of greatness. Why, if it weren’t for me and my brother, they never would have left the frozen north to settle Equestria!” Luna paused, her eyes crossing. “Or… wait. Was that Starswirl who did that? Or… Platinum? Cookie? Hurricane?” She shrugged. “Well, I’m sure it wasn’t any ordinary ponies who fought off the windigos.”

“Let’s say it was all of you, because it definitely was all of you pulling all of their heads out of their snow-covered arses.” Berserker’s quick, yet blunt response nearly made Luna bust a gut.

“Sure! Let’s go with that! All of us, then!” Luna’s laughter died down to chuckles as she gazed at her bottle of alcohol. “All of us. Together. Heh, can’t have a nation of just elites, I guess. Wolves suck at building and sustaining nations. We need the rest to support us.” She let out an annoyed groan and leaned forward, resting her head on the table. “Guess we need to keep getting along with them, huh?”

“There are no Heroes vs. Villains. Only Mortals and Monsters. So, yes. Eventually, we’ll all forgive. For now, trust and respect must be built upon the foundations of understanding, through the actions and deeds of cooperation.” Berserker answered with a sigh. “Immortality may suck, but we can still work with it. Time is subjective.” He cracked open his third and skulled that down. “However, if a group is being uncooperative, just say no and leave them. Or do something that’ll piss them off and get you banished. That’s another way to be rid of them.”

Luna seemed to sober instantly, staring into her bottle, a look of painful loss on her face. “Banishment, huh?”

“…Oh, right. Sorry, that came out wrong.” Berserker felt ashamed for bringing up a subject that caused all Lunas pain.

“...I have forsaken all bonds and oaths for the sake of my ideas before. So sure that I was right and that everyone else was a fool that I fell into a darkness worm whence - save a miracle - there would have been no return.” She smiled sadly up at Berserker. “Take this lesson from one who has followed that road to its only natural conclusion: there is no-one - not one soul - that is of greater value than everyone else. If we outcast ourselves from all who do not understand us, we rob them of all that we may contribute, and we rob ourselves of the connections that keep us sane and good. And if that means that we compromise…” She chuckled darkly. “There are worse things.”

“You’re right. I’ll try.” Berserker nodded in agreement with her statement. “…So, how many hard-hitting and philosophical quotes can we come up with?” Luna couldn’t stop herself from laughing at his absurdly random question. “I mean, we came up with a lot in this session.”

“Tartarus if I know! I’ll be lucky if I even remember this conversation later.” She swirled her bottle with a grin. “This stuff is what the dragons drink. I’m gonna be a slurring, embarrassing mess in a minute once I finish metabolizing it.”

“Sheesh, and I haven’t even talked about my crippling withdrawals yet.” Berserker pouted and Luna snickered. “I mean, nothing against Equestria but I miss things I used to get from back home. Oh, when I get around to it and whenever we can manage to meet up again, I’ll share the goodies with you.”

Luna’s eyes lit up.

“NO, LUNA, YOU ARE NOT TRYING HUMAN DRUGS!!!”

“GET STUFFED YOU FLAMING TURKEY!!!” Luna muttered under her breath about overprotective brothers before smiling at Berserker. “Rain check on the good stuff.”

“Soon, or later on down the line, but thanks for the talk. I…I really did need this. Oh, and the name’s Bryan.” Bryan smiled and held up his fourth bottle to her. Luna smiled at the trust she had built up with him and tapped her bottle against his. “Cheers!”