A/N: A story idea given to me by my buddy BlackTealKnight Hope yall enjoy it.

~--~

The light taps of a finger against a microphone filled the void. A sweet male voice sang into the speakers, "Ladies and Gentlemen." His voice was warbling about with childlike wonder. And housed the gusto of a grand master at the circus. "Who's ready for the MAIN EVENT!?"

In response came a raucous uproar of cheers. A typhoon of bodies sat in the stands of this massive arena. Their colorful attire bounced off the dusty clay pastel of the bleachers below them. The crowd of fans was on their feet with signs and merchandise waving through the sky supporting their favorite brawlers.

The arena was roofless and housed a skybox on the west wall. Inside our commentator spoke up once more, "It's the moment you've all been waiting for. The Clash of Assassins' Grand Final!" Within the glass cube was a bright jester. His eyes were shut tight with a massive smile as he joined in the cheering below. He had swapped his classic blue and pristine color palette with a much brighter red and gold scheme. The bells on his cap clinked back and forth as he plopped himself back in his seat. The name card ahead read 'Chester' and bounced slightly with his wild movements.

He continued with glee, "And for today's finals I'm joined by our fourth and third place losers-" he let out an uncontrollable snicker before continuing- "The slip and sliding lifeguard, Buzz, and our resident ticket boy, Fang!"

The fans cheered along with the comedic introductions. A sentiment the two guests did not share. On his left was the fourth-place finisher, Buzz. He angrily commented, "The only reason I'm fourth is 'cause I went on first!" Beneath his green dinosaur costume his voice was mildly muffled. But he could still be heard clearly thanks to his brash personality.

On the other hand, Fang sat up with a smile. He fixed his red cap atop his head and stated, "Honestly, I'm just happy I made it this far." He leaned back away from his mic and almost whispered into his white tee-shirt, "Plus I'm not the one in fourth."

Buzz slammed his red life board on the table, "Eat my bubbles, popcorn breath?"

Fang rose and yelled back, "What did you say, lizard lips?"

"I'm a dinosaur, stunt boy!"

Chester cackled, "Oooohohohohohohoooo. Settle down, boys. The match hasn't even started and we're already throwing heat!" As the two assassins threatened to brawl within the small hotbox a pair of bright lights appeared in the arena below.

The jester pushed the two back into their seats and screeched into his microphone. "And now, introducing our Brawlers!" A massive red flood light appeared on the northern side of the arena. "On the red side, standing at a stout one hundred and forty-two cm. In his first match against Stu he barely managed to survive against the stunt robot's blitz offense. But he learned his lesson and was patient while avoiding the vicious Fang. He's young, he's dumb, he's wild, and he's free. He is the stealthy assassin, the second of the legendary, he is-"

Half of the arena was overwhelmed as a massive explosion of smoke went off without a sound. It was a deep bed of gray that carpeted the floor. There was a storm of gasps before the audience grew accustomed to this new introduction. As the smoke rolled away a figure could be seen crouching on the ground. It was small and waved about in the shadows of thick, airy tidal waves. To no one's surprise, it was a young boy resting in the middle of this tsunami of dust. He stood up with a bright yellow hoodie swaddled around his torso. His massive metal zipper dangled about while he fished a lollipop out of his blue shorts. Before the sun could reveal his features, he quickly pulled the hood over his head. The crowd cooed along with the goofy face of the yellow duck staring at them. With that, the brown boy placed his sucker between his lips and smiled beneath his hood.

Chester's excitement only grew. He shouted out, "LEON!!!!" and jumped around a bit with the growing crowd's adoration. Leon took a moment to wipe some dust off his red and white kicks. An action that while seemingly fickle was a purposeful attempt at looking cool.

Chester sat down with a bounce and rocked back and forth. "And it looks like he's representing our sponsors 'LINE FRIENDS'."

Buzz quickly leaned forward and added, "The (unofficially) official allies of Brawlers everywhere." The fans could hear the glint beaming off his shades through the mic.

Chester snickered, "Nothing like product placement to fund all our sweetest needs." He turned back to his secondary co-host. "Now let's talk to the teen Leon defeated to get here. Fang, tell us. What do you think about Leon?"

Fang leaned back on the rear legs of his shoddy chair. He was currently shoveling back handfuls of popcorn. "Well to be honest-" he managed between glops of buttery delight- "He's kinda reckless."

Chester didn't even bother to question how he'd acquired the snacks. He'd rather challenge this verdict, "That doesn't sound right." He pointed up toward the jumbotron screens around the perimeter. "Let's check the replay."

Fang fell out of his seat with his kernel treats landing atop his head. He voiced his discourse but it was too late. The screen jumped from a zoom-in on Leon to a bird's eye view of the previous contest. Leon was currently jumping from bush to bush and carefully poking away at Fang from afar. In contrast, Fang recklessly jumped into bushes only to be dodged by Leon as he continued his ranged onslaught.

When a few stray shoes finally connected with Leon's body, Fang recklessly charged forward with a super-sized flying kick. Only to crash into Leon's clone as it exited the bushes. The stealthy assassin then appeared from his cloaked dimension and finished Fang off with ease. An embarrassing fact that Fang dreaded rewatching.

Chester and Buzz sinisterly snapped their attention his way. The two taunted him as the ticket boy grumbled under his breath. Buzz chuckled between his green fingers, "Oh yeah, he's real reckless."

Fang immediately turned on him, "Shut up, bug breath!"

"Who you calling bug breath, second fiddle!"

"Second what?!"

Chester jumped between the two once more as sparks flew between them. He just cleverly laughed out his next sentence. "Save the brawls for next time, boys. We've got a job to do." He slammed his palm against the table and yelled out, "Now for the blue side!"

A cold voice echoed through the stadium, "Finally."

It was the middle of a bright and sunny day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Yet suddenly it grew dark as night. As everyone looked up to see what was happening, they saw a massive black sheet that had ensnared the roof itself. It flowed and shifted on the winds above.

Then it suddenly converted into a massive black wave. It ebbed and flowed through the air and flew around in a cyclone-like spiral. It extended downward shifting from a typhoon into a massive world-ending tornado. Then came the noise. The sound of screeching animals mixed in with the fervent flapping of wings. As this living storm of rodents dived down to the ground Chester returned to the microphone.

"It's time to meet Leon's opponent. He's been around since the beginning. One of the most famously infamous brawlers of them all. Are you prepared for something spooky?" The wall of black fur beat against the glass box as they condensed into a singular point. "Or are we about to witness a nightmare?"

The living tornado continued to rage on through the arena as Chester tried to yell over it. "In his first match against Edgar, he showed the edge lord that he's the king of mean. Then he educated Buzz on just how fast he really is. He's spooky, he's scary, but he's not Poco. Everyone cower before..."

The ball of bats exploded outward and revealed a lanky frame. His skin was pale like sugar with lips a deep purple. He looked fresh out the morgue with his feet bare to the world though he wore a blue kilt and loose garments over his chest. The general hue was a deep blue with bright fluorescent accessories almost enhancing his haunting figure.

Carried across his shoulders was a massive battle axe. It was chipped on its blade and had a massive glowing gemstone on the handle. Beneath his hood, a pair of bright blue eyes glowed to life. And with a bright smile, he called out before Chester could finish, "MORTIS! Bringer of Doom!"

Where Leon was met with an uproar of cheers, Mortis got a mixed response. His fans were certainly excited to see him appear. And his entrance was as grand as a man such as himself should deserve. But his costume. This cosmetic. It was.

"How awful!" Chester drooped down with the reveal. "His entrance was astounding but that skin." He dragged his hands across his face, "He chose that skin?"

Buzz nearly swallowed his whistle when he saw Mortis's costume choice. "Are you kidding me? He chose that!?" He cranked up the volume of his microphone and yelled with hopes of breaking Mortis's eardrums. "What were you thinking, guano head!"

Mortis didn't even blink at the blaring cry through the speakers. Even when the crowd started booing him he stood tall. He easily swung his axe in circles, "I am Mortis. The dashingly handsome assassin." He pointed the blade to the sky. "When you are this magnificent, you can make anything look amazing."

On the other side of the arena, Leon loosely held onto his sucker with his tongue. He felt a bit awkward having to be the guy that fights this goofball. But Mortis continued his braggadocious introduction. The mortician pointed toward Leon's head with his axe head. "Now bear witness to my fitness."

After getting used to seeing this strange attire the fans once again screamed behind Mortis's taunts. Chester recollected himself. He pulled Buzz back into his seat before he rushed down and slapped Mortis around again. "So Buzzy. What do you think about Mortis?"

The mascot took a deep breath, "If we ignore his idiotic sense of style. He's a heck of a fighter." Buzz calmed down as his costume transitioned from a fuming red to a cool green. "He's faster than most and got the most unique fighting style of any brawler."

Chester graciously affirmed, "Certainly. But let's take a look at the replay just for fun." Chester snickered while Buzz just grumbled a half-hearted agreement.

The jumbotron showed Buzz and Mortis going head-to-head. Unlike the fight with Fang and Leon, Buzz actually seemed to be having a fair battle. Though with careful viewing, one would notice that whenever Buzz would fire off a burst of flames Mortis would dash past him and slash him with a backhanded slice of his shovel. Mortis was just too nimble for Buzz to handle. Even an attempt at a stun wasn't enough.

Buzz sat with a bit of respect as he heard no taunting laughs from the people below. Something that Fang did not follow. The younger man leaned around Chester's back, "Looks like you didn't stand much of a chance." He cooed out, "Loser~" and poked him like a child.

Buzz smacked his hand and roared, "Show some dignity, movie watcher!"

"Movie watcher?! What does that even mean?"

"It means you'll never be in one!"

Fang dashed forward with his face against Buzz's fuzzy skull. "I'm going to drown you, green tongue."

Buzz jumped up and pushed his head against Fang's. "I'll cook you inside that popcorn maker, discount Bruce Lee."

Chester didn't even bother to intervene. They were mostly talk. Mostly. And if push came to shove it'd make for a good sideshow. Either way, he'd rather focus on the two men in the arena. The contestants were currently staring each other down. Leon's hands rested in his hoodie pocket while Mortis let his flair float freely. A cool kid versus an eccentric immortal. Even with the influx of new brawlers, the old heads were still dominating the arena.

With the jingle of his hat, Chester jumped once more. "Ladies, Gentlemen, and those special folk in between." He cackled with a little dance, "Are you ready to brawl?!" An uproar of cheers was their return. "I hope so. Cause this match is going to be over in a flash. Now..." Chester loved doing this next part.

"3!"

Leon dug his feet into the dirt.

"2!"

Mortis stopped his showboating and took an offensive stance.

"1!"

Buzz and Fang smashed their heads once more. But even they joined in the final chant.

"BRAWL!"

~--~

After the match, I took my time cleaning off my hoodie. It had been stained a filthy shade of brown from all the dust Mortis and I were kicking up. The lockers were mostly empty, save for Stu who was getting ready for the stunt show he had scheduled later tonight. I remember him saying that he liked to walk through the course before the show. Helps him visualize the stunt. I didn't really get it but he's the stuntman.

After a few desperate scrubs, I threw the towel in a bin and decided to handle the cleaning when I got home. Bo always seemed to have some remedy for these sorts of messes. Nita and I were masters of getting dirty.

The backstage area of the arena was filled with random props like a massive hose to fill the arena with water. There were also the bungee cords that were mostly used by El Primo when he held wrestling events inside the massive stadium. Any manner of knick-knacks could be found if you walked for long enough.

I, however, made my way to a small office room. It had a receptionist at a desk. An older lady with a cigarette in hand and a tired frown across her lips. When she saw my green hoodie she quickly pointed toward the next door, "Go ahead. They're waiting for ya." Her scratchy voice hid her sweet demeanor. Or maybe it was hiding her growing rage at being interrupted from a phone call.

I just listened without a sound and opened the next door. I was quickly shifted into a darker room with bright lights beaming down on the platform before me. I walked up the steps and took a seat in the nearest chair. With my arrival came a swarm of voices and flashing lights. I had to strain my eyes just to avoid going blind.

I grabbed the water bottle beside me and took a desperate sip while a man to my left took the podium. His hat was in the shape of a star, and he wore an exasperated smile. He spoke of how happy he was with today's show and that he couldn't be more thankful for the performances we put on. He also quickly plugged the stunt show happening later tonight stating, "This will be Stu's craziest stunt yet!"

As the questions slowly began he hushed them with simple instructions. If a question is to be asked a hand must be raised. Then we will pick who we wish to answer. With that, he stepped down and took a seat beside me. Immediately voices rang out with hands raised high.

I managed to reason out a lady with bright blue hair. Her head was wider than her shoulders, so I guess she stood out the most to me. She asked, "Can you tell us what you were thinking?"

I leaned forward into the mic, "I'm sorry can you rephrase your question." I had been taught to always speak respectfully at these media scrums by Bo as well as the other brawlers.

"What was your plan while fighting Mortis? Did you have a strategy? What was going on in your head?"

I blew a sad raspberry with my lips. I always hated these kinds of questions. "Honestly, I'm still way too young to make strategies." I laughed a bit at that sentence and the reporters joined as well. "I guess if I had to describe what I was thinking about."

~--~

When the bell rang Leon quickly dashed ahead into the arena. They had been placed into a classic arena. Petticoat Duel. Two massive rows of bushes had grown between them. There were walls within the bushes sectioning each row into three columns but even then, there were teleporters allowing brawlers to jump from the east and west sides of the fields in an instant.

Usually, fighters would use these portals to get a ranged advantage on their opponents, but in a clash of assassins, range wasn't on the menu. Leon knew that he had a small advantage in range and quickly made his way to the middle of the field. He stood behind a single cactus and waited for Mortis to appear.

The dashing assassin is all about flair which meant he'd surely hide within the middle bush segment. A fact that Leon quickly looked to exploit. He quickly peeked out from his small cover of plant life and sent a four-player wave of blades into the center bush.

Now Leon's range isn't the widest. It's not like Janet's sinister sound waves or Poco's loco guitar solos. It was much tighter like the beginning of Shelly's attack cone, or the with of Nita's shockwaves. As such he wasn't too surprised when his first set of blades didn't get any response from the bushes.

What was perplexing was how his next wave of razors missed all but the grassy null ahead. Leon took a moment to think about how this was possible. There were small odds that Mortis would have chosen any bush beside the center. But there was no way that Mortis could have dodged two sets of blades without revealing himself with a dashing slash. All that was left was for Leon to either double down on attacking the middle or take a guess on which of the side bushes he was hiding in. But if he doubled down on the middle bush and was wrong, his ammo would be too low to defend against an undead ambush.

The boy snickered beneath his yellow hood. He took his lollipop out of his mouth and popped a fresh one in. With the used candy, he flipped it in the air and pointed to the stadium's seats. He knew where she was. His awesome older sister was sitting in the front row where she always was. Right beside Bo and next to her friends Bonnie and that narcolept Sandy.

With the exaggerated swagger of a black teen, he called, "Hey, Nita. Check me out!" Then his sucker landed on the ground stem first and began to glow. Suddenly a massive red circle of light spewed out in all directions and Leon disappeared.

Chester's voice came through the speakers. "Leon has brought his signature gadget. The Lollipop Drop!"

Fang quickly queued up, "It looks like he's chosen to dominate the center of the map. Now Mortis is the one that will have to guess."

While the commentators and crowd complimented the decision Buzz made a silent analysis. He noticed that Leon dropped the pop directly beside the cactus. With such proximity, he'd be able to effectively walk directly beside all of Mortis' bushes. He grumbled under his breath, "And that's exactly what Mortis wants."

Inside the cover of his nearly separate reality, Leon walked forward. He decided that the east bushes would be the first he checked. He didn't need to leave his cloak but the moment he fired a shot Mortis would be able to spot him for just a moment. He had to predict this correctly or else the element of surprise would be lost.

Imagine his surprise when the moment after he let his fingers release a group of projectiles Mortis came flying out of the center bushes. Leon's eyes shot open like a horrified rabbit. Mortis's bright blue eyes glowed against the crimson aura encroaching on every corner of his skin. And he had a killer's grin when he caught sight of Leon mid-attack.

The dashing assassin had cleared twice his normal distance with his first swing and landed a crushing blow against Leon's arm. His hoodie tore with a bit of yellow fabric flying off into the sky.

Chester screamed, "And Mortis counterattacks with an awesome use of his first and most impressive dash."

Mortis doubled down just as Leon began to release another wave of blades. He dashed forward again and cut clean across his chest with the edge of his massive axe. Leon's head was aching from the soaring pain now flooding his stomach. But even still he knew he needed to continue.

The young boy turned around and landed four clean shots to Mortis's back. A volley lodged itself deep into his marrow and threatened to push out his front. Mortis's response was a lightning-quick 180 turn. A third massive swing slashed down the center of Leon's chest. Leon couldn't feel his toes now, but he had an opportunity. Mortis was directly in front of him. This is where he does the most damage.

Leon prepared to deal as much damage as possible. He'd even opted for his Invis-heal Starr Power so that he could survive that one extra hit once he got his super. Maybe even fully recover the damage.

Before he could turn around and attack Mortis once more he felt his body get light. In one final swing, he cleaved clean through Leon's torso. The massive axe was covered with yellow cloth. And Leon had a brief moment where he could see his legs drifting away from his body.

A poof of smoke exploded from the separated halves followed by the ringing of a bell. Mortis brandished his weapon and rested it on his shoulders. Even with his blank blue eyes he still managed to look like a smug king. He pointed a thumb to the sky and called, "Your soul is mine!"

~--~

I guess looking back on it, "I should have noticed he brought that reload gadget. It could help him close the distance and finish me off in the final fight. But my biggest mistake was thinking I could predict him. I guess I wasn't living in his head, but he was in mine." The reporters murmured a bit and scribbled down my weightless opinion.

It's not that I thought Mortis was predictable. I just didn't think he was unpredictable. Mortis, however, must have viewed this as comedic. He had taken a seat during my questioning. He'd ditched his ridiculous costume for his usual black suit and top hat. Now he sat reclined in his seat with a relaxed smile.

He snickered a bit at my response. "Honestly who could blame the boy. Everyone wishes they could be me." A slew of hands went up to get his attention. He sent a bat out from his sleeve which plopped down on a gloomy-looking boy in the back.

The reporter meekly mumbled, "Umm... sir. How would you score your opponent on a scale of 1 to 10?"

"Oh, goody. Ratings." Mortis didn't bother to hide his judging gaze. He stared a hole through me. "I'd say. He's an 8 in strength. 5 in wits. And his style is a flat 1." Honestly, I'm a bit hurt my style was so low. He tapped his hand against his cheeks, "So a solid 7 out of 10."

How did he land on that number? I guess even his math is ridiculous. The rest of the questioning went as per usual. Questions about what're our plans for the next tournament. Who will we be teaming with in the next Super Showdown? And more boring questions that we were contractually obligated to answer.

Upon the meeting's conclusion, I was able to catch up to Mortis just outside the exit. He was currently playing with the buttons on his bat-shaped smartphone. No doubt checking Emz's Starrgram page.

"Yo Mortis." I tried to keep it casual.

He returned the sentiment with his least eccentric response, "Greetings, Leon."

"I wanted to ask you a question."

"And as the greatest assassin alive, I shall graciously answer it."

"How did you dodge those blades? The ones I threw into the middle."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've thought about it a hundred times. Those first two volleys were not dodgeable. Nobody is fast enough. Not even Max."

"But somehow I avoided them without dashing." Mortis placed his phone against his lips to punctuate his statement.

"Yes exactly. That's exactly what I'm asking. How'd you do it?"

Mortis decided to somber along as he gave a playful response. "Tell me, Leon. Have you ever heard of..." He lifted his coat to reveal a strange purple cog- "Gears."

~--~

Word Count: 4,083