Agents of the Multiverse

"Test Complete. Results: Accuracy at 92%."

Not good enough.

It was hard as it was to swing around a greatsword with cleanliness, but training gave Aluel a sharp eye, even if she only had one. What she lacked in speed with her weapon, she made up for with reflexes with the Dark Arts. Unfortunately, she had no sub-category she excelled at, so it was all she was stuck with. Her vision, provided by only one eye, would be challenged in this simulated cave, so she used the opportunity to get acquainted with the Dark Arts further. She might as well practice what she was good at, she figured.

Once the bat-like beastly apparitions that the Simulator provided stopped coming, Aluel stood straight and stuck her greatsword into a cleavage of the false rock. A frustrated huff followed as a gloved hand raised to wipe her forehead with her wrist. It was hardly because she was sweaty - this level of challenge that she was authorized to partake was barely any real danger to her, so she'd opted to create a challenge through the environment.

And even so, she was dreading trying again - she kept peaking at ninety percent, but at least it wasn't the dreaded eighty-nine. Maybe she needed to branch out a bit, to get more variety into her training regimen. Something unusual to test her. . .

And then, she spotted a bipedal raccoon present. Hardly the weirdest thing she's seen; he seemed to resemble a familiar more than anything else.

Her eye widened a bit as she commanded in English, "End simulation."

Just then, everything returned to a stark white, with the tip of her black-and-violet greatsword balancing upon the ground, with wide prongs facing towards the hilt. Her palm kept it in place delicately, like the weapon was fragile. It certainly wouldn't seem that way from the way she wielded it in combat.

"You came at a good time," she half-fibbed, though it was better than if he'd arrived mid-test, haphazardly.

She spied the Key Gauntlet on the raccoon's arm. She figured it would do the translating for her, if needed.

"I'd just finished. I got a best score yet. Here to try your shot, too?”

She might as well pretend to be optimistic. It didn’t seem like anyone else noticed.

Rocket liked his green Smuggler suit more than enough, but today called for a change in wardrobe. Instead, he currently sported a bright orange and black armored vest lined with straps and small compartments, each packed with utility—mainly explosives— that kept him prepared. Even before entering the simulation chamber, his whiskers twitched to the rumbling activity inside. Judging by the sounds, it seemed like a good day for action, and the Hero of Halfworld was more than ready to get back into the fray.

As he padded further into the room, Rocket lifted his head, letting his tech goggles slide up to rest on his forehead. He heard someone speak—a voice he didn’t recognize, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. That way, he would feel slightly less bad if something went wrong and they ended up in his line of fire.

"Pfft. Any time's a good time when a flarknard like me's around," he replied, giving his armored vest a satisfied pat, the clink of metal echoing. "Figured I’d give some of these simulated scuts a run for their money. Breakin’ stuff’s pretty cathartic, y'know?"

Rocket grinned, but his expression softened as he continued. "But hey, don’t be so hard on yourself," he said. "You’re doin' a hell of a job fightin’ those things. Problem is, looks like you’re uh.. fightin' yourself just as much." Rocket reached into one of his vest compartments, pulling out a small snack. He popped it into his mouth, wrapper and all, chewing casually without a single regard for how it looked.

"When you're in action, maybe try letting yourself flow with it. Get in the groove, don’t worry too much about a score." He cracked his knuckles, then stretched his arms overhead, releasing a satisfied yawn. "But hey, you’re still rockin’ it," Rocket added, dropping his paws onto his hips. "I ain’t goin' anywhere anytime soon, so maybe we can make some good use of this place. Promise I won’t bore ya' to death," he finished with a sly grin, crossing his arms as his eyes gleamed, almost too mischievously.

Aluel's bottom lip noticeably tensed at Rocket's comments about how she treated her performance. She'd thought she wouldn't be so easy to read, but he walked in at an earlier time than she'd anticipated. . . if she had anticipated his arrival at all.

"I'm less so fighting myself. I want to improve myself." She turned, facing sideways away from Rocket. Her second hand came to rest on top of the first on the pommel of her sword. "I know I can branch out and do better. Perhaps I need to prove myself somehow."

To the Agents of the Multiverse? Or to herself?

Her face pivoted so her present eye was facing Rocket again. It was better than having to stare at the eyepatch-side of her face.

"But I appreciate your words. They are inspiring." Funny little raccoon man. Had she known him any better, she would have thought she liked him from that alone. "I am Agent Deng, but you may call me Aluel. You are free to join me, of course. A partner makes training less dull and more realistic."

For a fleeting moment, she was quiet, tilting her head. She seemed pensive, as this was quickly presented with her question.

"Had you a mind to take a test together?" The blue-violet gaze of her one eye grew stark. Intense. "Or are you of the will for us to test each other? If you had asked me, I could think of no better introduction."

Oh, touched a nerve. Rocket, perhaps wisely, stayed silent as Aluel seemingly corrected him, choosing to refrain from pressing further. He didn’t need to pry or go full psychoanalysis—this wasn’t his first time encountering someone trying to prove themselves. He’d seen it plenty of times back home, and more often than not, it didn’t end well. But he knew better than to dig into that. Not his place.

His brow raised slightly as she tightened her grip on her sword. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t give his heart an extra beat or two, but he eased when she responded positively to his earlier remarks. Hm. Good. She wasn’t as tightly wound as he first thought.

When she introduced herself properly, Rocket let a half-smirk form on his face. "Pleasure’s mine, Aluel. Name’s Rocket," he replied. He knew from experience that people rarely stuck to just "Rocket"—he had more nicknames than he could count—but he liked keeping it simple, at least in introductions. Before he could ask anything else, she hit him with an unexpected suggestion. It wasn’t just a casual invitation for a tag-team run in the sim, it had the feel of a real challenge. Rocket scratched his ear, buying a moment to process before responding. "Are you.. challenging me?" he asked, a question more rhetorical than not, but one he allowed to hang for a moment.

"Well, flark, I ain’t one to say no, Aluel, if that’s what you’re getting at." He grinned, his curiosity piqued. "But before we light this sim room up, you got anything specific in mind? How exactly do you wanna play this?"

Aluel contemplated the question for longer than Rocket thought of hers. Admittedly, anticipation - perhaps wholly excitement - swelled within her after he accepted her offer. Ideas didn't rush in her mind for long until she thought back to her previous activity.

"Inside a woodland ravine set to nighttime," she proposed. "No serious danger, but still housing environmental obstacles. What say you?"

It may or may not have also proved as a visual obstacle; she could use the Dark Arts with proficiency here, but she was also half-blind. Still, that never seemed to stop her before. It'd never stopped her from anything in the past. Other than perhaps driving, but who wanted to drive in London?

Contently, she raised a palm upward as she fully turned to Rocket, though she didn't offer it. She made it as a welcoming gesture.

"How often have you fought against magic users? Or exorcists, as a matter of fact?"

It didn't sound like a taunt, but rather a genuine question of curiosity. That seemed to be the way Aluel functioned; logic rather than flaunting.

Why a ravine? Rocket mused. The nighttime setting didn’t faze him much—his Kree implants made sure of that—but the ravine was a curious choice, to say the least. Still, it wasn’t his style to argue over the details, figuring it’d be interesting enough to keep him engaged. Besides, Rocket sure as hell liked a challenge.

"Yeah, I’m game," he replied. "Environmental obstacles? Sure, keeps me on my toes." He snickered, though a quick flicker of old and worse-for-wear memories came over him. The battles fought in the chaos of environments like Knowhere and the highly anomalous Sacrosanct left their marks on him, but he didn't expect this to be nearly as insane. At least this time, it’s simulated, and Aluel didn't seem like a nutjob.

Her gesture brought him back to the moment, but her next question made Rocket tilt his head, confusion flickering across his face. "Well, that depends on how we’re defining ‘magic’ here." Rocket said as scratched his goatee. "Where I come from, magic’s just science in a fancy, wooled-up coat. Quantum-dimensional energy bending space-time laws that most folks don’t get naturally, yet some people are born with a knack for it; others need gadgets. And I’m pretty sure with the right tech, you can recreate it."

He paused, realizing he was going off on a tangent. "Uh.. anyway, yeah. I’ve tussled with some folks you’d probably call magic users. There was this space cult, wackos who manipulated energy through their faith. If that counts, then yeah, I’ve seen my fair share of ‘magic.’" He answered, smirking some. "Exorcists, though? Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.. which is surprising, honestly. You’d think with the amount of scuts I've run into, I’d have fought one by now."

"To be fair, isn't most worlds' magic just fancy science?"

Aluel was curious about this aspect. The Arts were named as such as it was seen by Dreamers as more like an art form for manipulating natural elements. In a way, it also occurred naturally; even animals could use it. Contemplative, Aluel shifted her weight between her feet.

"That makes me wonder how many ghosts you have encountered. I suppose it can be hard to realize the presence of magical things existing in other dimensions where one world has no such thing. Magic doesn't properly exist on our Earth, but it is tied to a dimension where it does. Humans have learned the craft so well, there are three major guilds associated with it. They hold a significant amount of power in our world. . . though, I suppose from what our Guildmaster says, it's just the Mages' Guild and the Priests' Guild now."

For a split moment where her words seemed solemn, she recovered very quickly to offer reassurance.

"There are still Exorcists remaining, of course. I'm sure you'll be able to meet some of the other ones." There's a smile accompanying those words. "Most of us have already become agents. I'm a Security Trainee, so I decided to practice here. I felt it was best to use my abilities as a member of our guild's defensive unit to protect others here as well."

That seemed to be the source of her intense desire to better herself. Prove herself, as she had put it. She'd already failed in her world. She might as well try to pick up the pieces for others.

And, of course, go over safety measures with them. She was a stickler for things like that.

She shifted on her feet again, this time using momentum to hoist the hilt of the greatsword upon her shoulder. Her body visibly reacted to the weight of it, but from the way she was positioned, it was as though it was almost weightless to her. Her posture was relaxed, even with a hand on her hip.

"So, what do you think? I can show you the Arts of my world. I want to exercise my abilities, so don't hold back, okay?"

She did appear a bit dainty, if it wasn't for the greatsword; her twin braids and lacy dress didn't speak much of combat attire, even if it was accentuated with more suitable footwear and belts. If it had something to do with her magic, she didn't explain. Somehow, she didn't seem encumbered by it anyway.

Rocket gave a brief and slightly little noncommittal shrug as Aluel echoed his comment. He didn't truly know whether magic worked under the same principles across different universes, but he figured it was a fair assumption that they did, at least for Rocket and Aluel's respective universes. "Maybe," he muttered under his breath, not sure if Aluel even heard him. His ears perked as she elaborated on her world—something about guilds, magic structured like an institution. A lot of it sounded like jargon to him, but he found himself unexpectedly curious. For once, he held back from making his usual sarcastic, snarky quips, nodding instead. "Never been to Earth, but that’s kinda.. wacky now that I think about it. You’ll have to tell me more about this whole guild thing sometime, y'know."

When she mentioned the Exorcist Guild’s supposed decline, Rocket noticed the somber shift in her speech. He didn’t know the details, but his instinct told him it wasn’t the time for pity. He gave a respectful nod, knowing that shutting up was sometimes the smartest move, especially when there was more going on under the surface.

She’s.. got a lot on her shoulders, Rocket mused, picking up on the weight of self-improvement and validation she seemed to carry. It made him a little uneasy, as he already didn’t like going into a duel where he was expected to not struggle more than he desired, and now, knowing what he did about her, he felt that tension gnaw at him. He by no means doubted her combat prowess, but nonetheless, would she be able to handle it if things got too.. hectic?

He sighed internally, trusting her judgment. She was the one pushing for this, and it wasn’t his place to question her resolve. Still, he was surprised at himself for feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable with the idea of not holding back. Normally, he’d jump at the chance to spar, but here he was, second-guessing.

"Alright, Aluel. You’re on," he said, snapping himself back to the moment. With a flick of his wrist, he lowered his goggles over his eyes. "Welp," he continued, taking a few steps back and pulling a small, spherical metal object from his vest. "I’m ready when you are, swordslinger." His tail swished in anticipation as he dropped to all fours, ready for whatever came next. It wasn’t about fear of the fight, he wasn’t worried about getting hurt. The simulation wouldn’t let things go that far. But even simulated pain was real enough.

There was no lie in the fact that Aluel took her work very seriously, and no doubt that she would treat the spar the exact same way. It was evident in the way her expression hardened as she swung her simulated greatsword around to point the edge downwards, where Rocket was positioned. Her feet spread apart, taking a sturdier stance. If she had noticed Rocket's dismay, she didn't voice it. She had a one-track mind right now.

"Greater Ingoldsby Nature Preserve, Earth," she commanded the Hazard Simulator. "Midnight."

Pixels distorted their vision of the room, turning a myriad of colors before fusing together. A deep ravine gnarled with roots and covered by a canopy of trees came into view, complete with the musty scents of wood and dirt. A river must have run through here at some point, but it had since dried up, giving way to the cracked clay beneath their feet. An enclosed space, much like the cave Aluel was in earlier; this must be the challenge she sought. Through the leaves, stars could be seen, though they didn't provide much light in comparison to the sparring partner's silhouettes. Perhaps it wouldn't remain that way for either of them for long.

"Any last requests before we begin?"

Her voice was stern, but not aggressive. She was focused, prepared for any surprises. She knew little, if anything, of what Rocket would have up his sleeve. Her lone eye had last landed on the orb he withdrew before things went dark. Perhaps things would light up after all.

In a way, she seemed to be beckoning him. A defender to the end, she was.

Rocket felt his pulse quicken as Aluel repositioned her greatsword, but outwardly, he fortunately remained unfazed. His sharp eyes took in her stance, whiskers twitching as he dedicated himself fully to concentration. She means business. He couldn’t analyze much further before Aluel's command to the simulation chamber altered the environment, the tech fusing together to create the landscape she’d chosen. A nature preserve? He didn’t exactly know what that was, but there wasn’t time for research now.

The sudden drop in visibility wasn’t as much of a disadvantage as it could’ve been. Thanks to his retinal implants, Rocket’s vision adjusted, though the dim lighting still posed a challenge. Not that he was rattled, as he’d been on enough covert missions with the Guardians to know his way around a fight in low-light conditions. His instincts would carry him through, just like they always did.

Aluel’s final question had an air of honor and fairness, though Rocket suspected it was also a subtle signal that she was ready for whatever surprises he had in store, bringing him a widening smirk he couldn't conceal. She’s not underestimating me. Good. He appreciated that kind of preparation, even if it came from the wielder of an imposing sword.

“Ready,” he confirmed, paws digging slightly into the dirt beneath him, steadying himself. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but reflect on past training sessions with Gamora, memories that were all too relevant now. Wherever you are, Gamora.. you taught me well when it comes to sword-folk. He wasn’t one for deep faith, but for this fight, maybe he’d stretch his beliefs a little.

Already, there was a thumping in Aluel's chest. Her eye narrowed at Rocket's confirmation, being able to make out his silhouette without much detail through the Dark Arts. Steeling herself, or dissatisfied? If she was dissatisfied, it might have been with the fact that Rocket didn't take the opportunity to strike first.

Oh, well. More for her.

Her feet angled so she took off with her toes. As she sprinted forward, her feet pressed against the ground to balance the weight of the weapon. When she reeled her sword to the side, despite its blunted edges for training, a deep 'WHOOSH' came from hulking metal cutting through air. It wasn't the most aerodynamic weapon, given the four prongs on the top and bottom of the blade, but it moved with expert ease when swung.

However, this swing did not land on Rocket - it was to garner momentum, an important part of wielding such a large weapon. The ravine's space was narrow, so Aluel's movements her sudden, making her muscles tense wherever the weight was directed. She twisted the hilt with her wrist to angle it upwards, where it slashed diagonally in Rocket's direction. Perhaps not aiming to cut right away, but to disorient.

She immediately knew what this reminded her of. Sparring against Somjit and her familiar, Chaniporn - the latter being even smaller and notoriously fast. She acknowledged in her head that this would be a separate situation entirely, but she might as well move like she was trying to catch a cat. Or, in this case, someone with the size and appearance of a raccoon.

Flark. Rocket's mind kicked into overdrive as he felt the greatsword slice through the air, the vibrations rippling straight through his furry chest. Holy scuthole, she's almost as strong in her form as Gamora. His teeth clenched, eyes narrowing as he calculated his next move. He could certainly tell by the power behind her swing that this wasn't a casual strike. This was surely meant to test him, maybe lure him into making the first mistake, but he wasn’t about to be lulled; at least not this time. With a weapon of that size, he could not afford any mistakes. Not taking any chances.

Rocket's paws pushed off the cracked ground, launching his small body into a sideways flip, his trajectory taking him just outside the blade’s arc. He hoped to land near her opposite flank, where she might least expect him. The vibrations from her weapon were rather clearly intense, which fortunately made the sword easier to track in the dim light. The air thrummed with the sheer force of the swing, and Rocket’s fur stood on end, adrenaline firing through him.

Big, heavy weapon, Gamora's voice echoed in his mind, clear as day—unlike the ravine itself. It's all about momentum. Slow her down, throw her off balance, and you’ll find your opening.

Am I hearing things now? Maybe the afterlife is real, Rocket mused, the voice sounding too real to just be in his head. Either way, it was giving acceptable advice, so he wasn’t going to argue.

Disrupt her rhythm, Rocket, Gamora's voice continued, apparently an undead, ghostly coach in his ear. The more you interrupt, the more chances you'll have to attack. Remember, you're good at that—interrupting.

Hey! I don't interrupt that much! Rocket mentally shot back. Only Quill, when he was being a doofus.

Whatever. Get a move on, you moron.

Rocket snapped back to the present, priming the small, spherical flash bomb he’d somehow managed to hold onto during his dodge. It wasn’t lethal, but it was enough to throw anyone off for a few crucial seconds—assuming they didn’t anticipate it. Without missing a beat, he jerked his left leg upward, using it to punt the device toward Aluel. He’d timed it perfectly, or at least he hoped, counting in his head. One second..

Rocket squeezed his eyes shut just before detonation, trusting his instincts to keep him from being blinded by his own trick.

Introducing light to the permeating darkness was something Aluel had expected. Perhaps in the form of a flash, less so. She could see the silhouette was something being thrown, which made her squint in the darkness. The Wind Arts were more particular about their tracking ability than the Dark Arts, but unfortunately for her, she only excelled in the latter. That's likely where she'd have to expand her skills; to branch out into another element. Preferably a Natural, as the Dark Arts were already Primordial.

For now, she had to exercise what she had, and she did thusly; a brief incantation later, and violet astronomical symbols lit up the ground. The emblem of Jupiter at the center yawned and swallowed up the flash bomb, only to regurgitate it several feet behind her. However, this was not done before it had detonated; the flash made her shadow long and surroundings too bright to see anything, a strong opposite that left afterimages in her vision. Her eye narrowed, teeth immediately grit as she did as Rocket had wanted - her movements slowed, almost stopping.

Despite this, she didn't seem to let up. Though she had lost Rocket's silhouette in the flash, she frantically sought it out by sound rather than sight. Pitifully, she was merely human. No level of the Arts could enhance her hearing, save for perhaps the Wind Arts, had she practiced it well. Alas, she did and potentially could not. On the contrary, being half-blind made her especially alert for these kinds of things.

Somjit's feline familiar navigated the dark in a similar way to Rocket. She also had tricks up her sleeve that made Aluel falter. Though she wasn't necessarily a new Exorcist, certainly not as 'green' as Roy, there were still some aspects to the Arts that she had yet to understand. And she certainly didn't often have to face a foe with such technology upon them.

Perhaps that was a comfort. Dealing with magic as opposed to cold, hard science.

Her grip tightened around her hilt as she slowly drew its length in front of her horizontally. It might have become apparent that she favored her right hand, judging from the way she angled her blade. Apparently, Aluel also noticed this, as she observed her surroundings from all sides.

Then, she'd heard it before she saw it - movement to her left. Adjusting to this, the flat part of the blade was jut out with the force of her left hand on the blade and her right hand on the hilt. A semi-spherical wave of shadow that covered her entire front side was launched from it, biting cold and black as the night. Something that could pass through, but was still solid enough to push back and leave pain, liking being head headfirst with a shield. This was how she defended herself.

Flarkin' what? Rocket raised a brow, his whiskers twitching in confusion. The flash bomb's vibrations were further off than they should have been. He could’ve sworn he’d aimed it perfectly. There was no way he’d gotten sloppy—he never got sloppy.

Remember who you're up against, genius, Gamora's voice echoed in his mind. She's got mysticism on her side. Don't forget that.

Rocket’s eyes snapped open, scanning the darkness. He expected Aluel to charge him, but there was no such movement. The atmosphere felt tense, yet her figure hadn’t budged in the way he anticipated. Instead, her motions seemed to slow down dramatically, almost unnaturally. Did the flash bomb work that well?

She's human, another voice rang in, one Rocket immediately recognized as Quill's. She may know magic, but she's still just human.

Oh for krutack's sake, are you all in my head now? Rocket grumbled internally. I miss it when it was just Gamora.

Deal with it, Quill's voice fired back. She's vulnerable—do what you do best: be annoying as hell. Throw her off her game.

Rocket smirked to himself, though nodding at his own internal dialogue felt a bit weird. He grabbed two objects from his vest: a deployable shield module in one paw and a pocket dimension cube in the other. But, instead of throwing the shield directly in front of him, he tossed it off to the right, letting it emit a faint static hum as the small dome flickered into existence. Let her think I’m hiding there.

Then, he felt it. A cold, gnawing sensation crept through the air ahead of him, and his instincts screamed danger. This wasn’t the greatsword, this was something else. A mystic attack, no doubt.

Flark, Rocket cursed internally, realizing the wave was closing in fast. Ducking wasn’t an option, it likely wasn’t something he could just duck underneath like a physical blow. With no time to waste, he dropped to all fours and skittered sideways, sliding just past Aluel and closer to where he suspected she’d relocated the flash bomb. Gotta move faster, he mentally urged himself, wincing as his right foot caught the brunt of something sharp, sending a sting of pain shooting up his leg. He wasn’t sure if it was from her shadow wave or a mistake in his own maneuvering, but it slowed him down momentarily.

Still, he’d managed to retrieve the cube. In one swift move, Rocket primed the device, feeling the familiar weight of a blaster materialize in his left paw. He’d avoided dropping it, though his foot throbbed painfully. Gotta push through it.

This was a simulation, so there was no need for max power. He flicked the blaster to stun, gritting his teeth as he fought through the pain. With a quick, precise aim, he pulled the trigger, targeting where he estimated Aluel’s right arm to be. If he could land a hit, the electrical charge would likely provoke an involuntary muscle response, making it harder for her to swing that massive greatsword with precision.

Throw her off balance, Rocket, he reminded himself. The more you disrupt her, the more chances you have.

Spinning on her heel, Aluel turned abruptly to witness the shield lighting up. However, she couldn't tell if there was actually anybody inside or not. She'd have to get closer, she decided quickly. Damn. Would he keep provoking her like this? He was leaving her with no choice. Hurriedly, she contemplated a way to disrupt the shield, now that that had successfully taken her attention.

As both hands turned to her sword's hilt, she made an attempt to flick the shield module upward by commanding the darkness underneath it. It proved nothing, she quickly learned, and she wouldn't find it fair to open a portal for Rocket either. Though, she was soon to find that there was no inhabitant after all - she had been baited.

Her teeth gnashed as she felt a sting grazing her upper right arm, where a pins-and-needles sensation remained. Where dulled sensations came, so too came a weakness in the muscles it collided with. Her greatsword fell down to the clay on the ground with a hefty sound, like a shovel piercing hard dirt. A growl came from Aluel's throat, now aware of the true presence of the little raccoon.

A groan followed, and so did her right arm, hoisting the sword lazily but still strongly. She'd flung the blade across her side, towards her back, where it sliced through roots and took dirt and debris with it. A cascade of raw, dark energy - cold and callous - came with it, mingling with the flesh of the earth in an attempt to make it rain down on Rocket.

There was a distinct lack of accuracy to her movements, especially since when she finished, one of the prongs on the side of her greatsword sunk into the ground pitifully, where she was unable to stress her right arm to the same degree she normally would. However, she'd made her so wide, she'd hoped she'd hit something.