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I use the Random Character button and AI to make this match. ------- The summer music festival at Gardenia Beach had drawn crowds for three days straight, but the real spectacle wasn't on the main stage—it was in the underground concrete arena beneath the boardwalk, where the King of Fighters satellite tournament had set up its illegal brackets. No microphones. No streaming cameras. Just sweat, concrete, and the roar of a crowd that didn't care about rules. Musa hovered unseen above the rafters, her fairy wings a blur of translucent blue, her headphones—enchanted, naturally—pulsing with a bass line only she could hear. She'd come for the music, drawn by rumors of an underground DJ using dark magic to hype the crowd. What she'd found was something else entirely: a teenage girl in traditional Muay Thai shorts, bouncing on the balls of her feet like she had springs in her ankles, dismantling opponents twice her size with shin kicks that sounded like baseball bats cracking home runs. Preecha didn't look magical. She looked hungry. Her orange sports bra was soaked through, her braided hair whipping as she spun, her grin showing too many teeth as she caught a bruiser from Southtown in the ribs with a tiieng kick that lifted him off the ground. The crowd roared. Preecha laughed, throwing her arms wide, absorbing their energy like a plant taking sunlight. "Next!" she called out in Thai-accented English, clapping her gloved hands together. "Who's next? I haven't even broken a sweat!" Musa descended through the shadows, her wings folding into her back as she touched down behind the chain-link fence that served as a cage. She was dressed down—jeans, a band t-shirt, her magical identity concealed—but the air around her hummed with subsonic frequencies. She could feel the vibration in her teeth. This girl wasn't using dark magic, but there was something else there, something raw and musical in the way she moved. Every strike landed on rhythm. Every dodge was a dance step. Preecha noticed her immediately. The fighter's head snapped around, her eyes—bright and sharp as a hawk's—locking onto Musa. She tilted her head, curious, like a dog hearing a whistle on a frequency just beyond human range. "You," Preecha said, pointing with a wrapped hand. "You got that look. Like you're judging my form." She hopped the fence in one fluid motion, landing close enough that Musa could smell the liniment on her skin, the sharp citrus of energy drinks. "You a fighter? You got the shoulders for it. Tense. Held too high. But..." She reached out, fast as a snake, and tapped Musa's collarbone. "Good resonance. Like a temple bell." Musa stepped back, her hand instinctively going to the pendant at her throat—a microphone shaped like a fairy wing. "I'm not here to fight you. I'm looking for someone using magic to manipulate the crowd." "Magic?" Preecha's grin widened. She bounced in place, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her shins already bruised purple from the night's matches. "You mean like this?" She moved. Not teleported. Not magically. Just fast, impossibly fast, her body a blur of tan skin and orange fabric. Her right leg came up in a teep push kick that Musa barely dodged, the wind of it ruffling her hair. The concrete pillar behind her exploded into dust where Preecha's shin connected, the impact creating a shockwave that sang through the underground space. Musa's eyes widened. No. Not possible. That wasn't technique—that was force, chi energy concentrated to a degree that shouldn't exist in humans without magical augmentation. "See?" Preecha said, spinning back into her stance, her grin feral now, her eyes alight with the joy of the challenge. "Magic! You got yours, I got mine. Music and movement, same thing, yeah?" She gestured to the empty concrete circle where the last fighter had fallen. "Come. Dance with me. Or fight me. Same word in my language." Musa's headphones began to glow, blue light leaking from the cushions. The air pressure in the underground chamber shifted, the bass dropping so low that the crowd clutched their ears, their heartbeats syncing to a rhythm they couldn't escape. Dust rose from the floor in concentric circles, vibrating, waiting. "I'm a fairy," Musa said quietly, her voice carrying over the sudden silence she'd engineered. "I control sound waves. I can shatter concrete with a high note. I can stop your heart with the right frequency." Preecha didn't flinch. She laughed, delighted, and raised her fists. The air around her hands shimmered with heat, with kinetic potential, with the music of violence she'd mastered through ten thousand hours of training. "Good!" Preecha shouted. "Then I don't have to hold back!" The crowd, sensing the shift in atmosphere, began to chant. Not words. Just rhythm. A beat. A pulse. Two artists—one of sound, one of motion—stepped into the circle. The concrete floor cracked beneath their feet as the first notes of the battle began.

I use the Random Character button and AI to make this match. ------- The rain was coming down hard enough to obscure the Chicago skyline, turning the South Side industrial district into a grayscale smear of neon and wet concrete. Deputy U.S. Marshal Samuel Gerard stood beneath a busted awning, studying the white van parked at the loading dock with its rear doors thrown open like a mouth waiting to bite. The van belonged to Star Cable Services. The registration belonged to one Ernie Douglas. The surveillance equipment they'd found in the safe house three blocks over—pinhole cameras in every outlet, audio bugs woven into the coaxial, the works—belonged to whoever had spent six months mapping the building's infrastructure with surgical precision. Gerard's men were positioned at the perimeter. Newman had the alley. Biggs covered the fire escape. Poole was two blocks out with the car. Standard tactical deployment. But Gerard had that feeling in his gut, the one that had kept him alive through two decades of chasing desperate men through worse weather than this. The van's interior was a cathedral of organized chaos. Spools of fiber optic cable hung from hooks like mechanical entrails. A thirteen-inch CRT monitor glowed blue-white, casting long shadows across walls plastered with photographs—hundreds of them, faces circled in red marker, connected by yarn in patterns that made no immediate sense. A half-eaten roast beef sandwich sat on the dash, condiments turning the wrapper translucent. Gerard drew his Glock 22, kept it low and ready. "Federal Marshal! Ernie Douglas, show yourself!" The response came from above—a shadow dropping from the roof of the van with a gymnast's grace that belied the man's lanky frame. Chip Douglas landed in a crouch, cable cutter in one hand, his Star Cable uniform soaked through and plastered to his skin like a second membrane. His eyes were too wide, the whites showing all around the iris, and he was smiling with teeth that seemed too large for his face. "Sam," Chip said, like they were old friends. "Samuel Gerard. I know you. I know all about you." He tapped his temple with the cutter's handle. "Wife died in '89. Car accident. You threw yourself into work after that. The Chicago office. The train wreck in '93. Dr. Richard Kimble. You never give up, Sam. That's your thing." Gerard didn't lower his weapon. "Step away from the vehicle. Hands where I can see them." Chip didn't move. He tilted his head, birdlike, studying Gerard with an intensity that felt like fingers on skin. "You don't recognize it yet, do you? The pattern? I've been in your house, Sam. I re-wired your den last Tuesday while you were at the courthouse. Your TV's got 4,000 channels now. I gave you the premium package. Premium." He giggled, a sound like static. "We're the same, you and me. We both install things. You install order. I install... connection." Gerard's jaw tightened. He'd seen this before—the ones who confused surveillance with intimacy, who thought knowing someone's coffee order was the same as knowing their soul. But this one was different. The technical sophistication, the physical confidence, the complete absence of fear. "You're under arrest for wiretapping, stalking, and federal trespass," Gerard said, his voice flat as a prairie horizon. "You can come easy or you can come hard. I don't care which. But you're coming." Chip's smile vanished, replaced by something colder and more focused. He flipped the cable cutter in his hand, catching it by the blade. "You want to disconnect me, Sam? After I worked so hard? After I chose you?" He stepped forward, into the rain, into the space where Gerard's weapon tracked him. "I don't think you understand the service agreement. It's a lifetime commitment." The cable cutter came up, not as a weapon to throw, but as a conductor. Behind Gerard, the loading dock's security system—a system Chip had installed three months prior when he'd been posing as a city electrician—hummed to life. Steel shutters slammed down over the exits. Floodlights blazed on, turning the rain into silver needles. The radio on Gerard's belt squealed with feedback, then went dead. "You're in my network now, Sam," Chip whispered, circling, his movements jerky and unpredictable, a marionette with cut strings. "And the customer service policy is very clear." He raised the cutter like a conductor's baton. "No refunds. No returns. No escape." Gerard thumbed his radio—dead, just like the cell. He was boxed in, cut off, facing a man who'd turned an industrial lot into a trap with the same casual expertise Gerard brought to a manhunt. He ejected the Glock's magazine, checked the load by feel alone, and slid it back home with a metallic click that sounded like a period at the end of a sentence. "Well," Gerard said, his drawl thickening, his eyes going flat and dangerous. "I guess we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way." Chip's grin returned, wider and madder than before. "That's the spirit, Sam! That's the spirit!" The rain kept falling. The shutters stayed down. And two men who'd spent their lives installing order—one by the book, one by obsession—prepared to see which system would survive the night.

The only person to ever fight this many cannofodder is Shadow Ranger. Doggie took out the big boss single handedly. Primator might be able to give a Power Rangers team a hard time but he ain't beating up 100 Rinshi. Nope.

OMG! Nth Man. My older brother had a few of his comics before I started reading for myself. I haven't even thought out this dude in decades, for real.

I use the Random Character button and AI to make this match. ------- The sky above the abandoned coastal city of Michelangelo hadn’t been blue for three days. It had turned the color of old bruises—purple and yellow swirling in patterns that hurt to look at, like a migraine given form. Buildings tilted at angles that defied gravity. The ocean hung suspended in the air in crystalline sheets, fish frozen mid-swim, staring down at the streets with glassy eyes. Alfie O’Meagan sat cross-legged atop a floating convenience store, kicking his legs absently, a half-eaten candy bar dissolving and reconstituting in his hand as he toyed with molecular structure. He was bored. When Alfie got bored, reality tended to develop… glitches. “Come on,” he muttered to the empty air, his Kentucky drawl stretching the vowels. “Show me something interesting.” The air three meters in front of him shimmered, then tore. A young man in a tattered red jacket stumbled through the rift, blood running from his nose, his green eyes burning with a light that had nothing to do with reflection. The psychic pressure preceding him hit Alfie like a physical weight—telekinetic force raw enough to bend steel, unfiltered, furious. Rion Steiner touched down on the floating asphalt, his boots scraping against stone that should have been impossible to stand on. He’d been tracking the dimensional instabilities for hours, following the trail of collapsed probability fields, of buildings turned inside-out, of people— There had been people here yesterday. Rion’s jaw tightened. He could feel them, or rather, feel the absence of them. Thirty thousand consciousnesses, simply… unwritten. Erased by a child with god’s crayon. “You’re the one,” Rion said. His voice was quiet, controlled, but the air around him began to vibrate. Static electricity crawled across his skin. “You did this.” Alfie tilted his head, curious rather than concerned. He hopped down from his perch, landing softly on nothing—just standing on empty air as if it were solid ground. He looked Rion up and down, seeing not the tired young man in the red jacket, but the potential radiating off him like heat from a furnace. “Ooh,” Alfie said, grinning. “You’re like me. But smaller. Tighter. All… compressed.” He made a fist, then opened it slowly, miming an explosion. “You’re gonna pop, aren’t you? That’s what the numbers say. Probability cascade. Psychic detonation. Boom.” Rion’s hands curled into fists. The temperature spiked. Behind him, the suspended ocean began to boil, steam screaming as it flash-evaporated. “Bring them back. The people. The city. Reverse what you did.” “Can’t,” Alfie said, popping the last of his candy into his mouth. “They’re not dead. Just… unwritten. Like a rough draft you throw away. Besides—” He gestured broadly at the impossible landscape, the fractal sky, the architecture of a mad god. “—it’s pretty, isn’t it? I’m making art.” Rion closed his eyes. When he opened them, the green had turned incandescent, backlit by something too bright to be merely biological. “I’m going to show you what your ‘art’ costs,” Rion whispered. The asphalt beneath Alfie’s feet shattered upward, telekinetic force hitting with the concussive power of a freight train. Simultaneously, the air around them ignited—pyrokinetic flames white-hot enough to vaporize steel, closing in like a fist. Alfie didn’t move. He simply decided that the debris and fire were now butterflies, and reality obliged—thousands of metal and flame insects swirling around him in a tornado of color. “Neat trick,” Alfie admitted, brushing a burning monarch from his shoulder. “But I’ve got better ones.” He snapped his fingers. The gravity in a fifty-meter radius inverted. Rion gasped as he was suddenly falling toward the bruised sky, the ocean suspended above becoming a ceiling of liquid death rushing down to meet him. He reached out with his mind, not at the water, but at the concept of the attack itself— Reality met probability. Psychic force met dimensional warping. The air between them screamed as two fundamentally different types of power collided, the fabric of existence protesting the contradiction. Alfie’s smile finally faltered. His eyes widened, genuinely surprised for the first time in years. “Oh,” he breathed. “You’re not just strong. You’re anchored. You’re holding the world together by will alone.” He laughed, delighted. “This is gonna be fun.” Rion righted himself in mid-air, flames wreathing his arms, electricity crackling between his fingers. Below—or above, depending on perspective—Alfie spread his arms wide, the sky fracturing into crystalline shards that began to orbit him like a crown of broken glass. “Fun,” Rion repeated, his voice carrying the weight of every person Alfie had unwritten. “I’ll show you fun.” The shockwave when they finally collared—the psychic blast meeting the reality warp—shattered every window in what remained of Michelangelo, and turned the floating ocean into a storm of vapor and lightning. The fight had begun.

Hope you all enjoy

Chapter 81 Behind Enemy Lines Prt. 1 "I don't like it!" Jack Bauer said grimly while sitting before Phil Coulson and Abe Sapien. "Neither do I, but we don't have many other options. With a majority of world leaders being in the pocket of this Council, we literally have both arms tied behind our backs." Phil replied with an uneasy expression. "We can always find another operative, one that we can at least trust." Jack argued. "Unfortunately, we would still run into the issues of the oversight of world governments. At least, this would strictly be off books. From my understanding, ARGUS Director Amanda Waller has utilized this time and time again with her Task Force X unit. This time, it won't be so... official..." Abe added. "I don't like this either, Jack, but we really don't have much of a choice. With world leaders being compromised, we don't know how far down the flagpole that the corruption falls. On top of that, if by any chance, our asset is captured or taken, then everything we are working for will unravel." Phil said as he glanced over at the CTU Director. "Any operative or agent would know the risk." Jack argued. "That is what we have trained for." "You're right, but every agent and operative can be traced back to us in some way. Whether it is a S.H.I.E.L.D., ARGUS, B.P.R.D., CIA, or even the IMF." Phil added. "But she could be traced back to Charlie Townsend." Jack said while pushing the dossier away from him. "Maybe... I don't trust her either, but on paper, she is a former Angel for Charlie Townsend. One that became an enemy of the state. It took an entire team of Angels to take her down and bring her into custody after the HALO incident...." Phil responded with a small smile. "And that was after she took down an entire team of operatives with the DOJ before stealing one of the HALO rings." "You don't have to remind me how dangerous she is... She also cannot be trusted." Jack added. "Perhaps, but we could use that to our advantage. We know her and her personality. We could use that." Abe replied. "Abe's right... She is egotistical, selfish, and sociopathic. While she cannot be trusted, we can find a way to use that to our advantage." Phil added. Jack almost laughed while leaning over the table. "When has anything like that ever worked in the past?" "You're right... That is why we utilize Amanda Waller's methods. The moment she gets out of line or we suspect that she is working from a different angle, then we terminate immediately." "That doesn't sound like the Phil that I know." Jack argued. "Desperate times..." Phil replied before letting out a sigh. "I hate this, Jack.... I really do, but we don't have a lot of options. Professor Xavier cannot get a reading in this country and for all intents and purposes, this is behind enemy lines. This Xenia Onatopp has already murdered a CIA operative, and we know that she has ties Buddy Pine and possibly the rest of the Council. People, humans and mutants alike, are disappearing all over the world. With what limited intel that we have, Xenia has been connected to some of these disappearances." "There has to be someone else." Jack said quietly while shaking his head. "Maybe, but we don't have a lot of time or options." Phil replied with a gentle smile. "I know this is making a deal with a devil, but it's one of the only options that we have. Huh... She is intelligent, dangerous, and highly skilled. There was a time when Charlie considered her one of his best. She can locate Xenia and find out what is happening to these missing people... Maybe even give us more answers on insight into this Council." "When all of this is done..." Jack said before closing his eyes and reluctantly nodding. "I don't care what pardons or promises that she received... Madison Lee goes back to her cage." In a highly secured black site prison, The room was well lit with a slight chill in the air. In the center of the room was a chair that was bolted to the floor. Chained and secured to the chair was a former Angel for Charlie Townsend. Once considered one of his top Angels, now she was nothing more than a prisoner in a cage that was hidden away from the rest of the world. Her once great reputation was destroyed and any potential that she had was locked away with her inside this prison. As she sat, bound in this chair, she knew all too well that someone was coming to ask her for help. Someone wanted to use her and her skills. Whether it was Charlie, one of his pathetic Angels, or some stiff government agent was still a mystery to her. All she could do was wait until her visitors revealed themselves. In this cage, all she could do was wait. Soon, the door opened and Madison's eyes glanced to the side of the room. The man that she saw was someone that she never expected. A wicked grin formed across her cheeks before shaking her head and looking down at her lap. "Things must be truly awful for the great Jack Bauer to come visit little ol' me." Madison Lee mocked as she giggled. "Prisoner has displayed violent tendencies with a half a dozen escape attempts..." Jack scoffed while reading over Madison's file. "What can I say?" Madison chuckled. "It gets a tad bit boring here." "I would have assumed there would have been more attempts." Jack said with an unimpressed glare. "The atmosphere is not as bad as I thought." Madison hissed. "What are you doing here, Jack?" "The President is offering you a Pardon along with a half a million to start a new life." Jack sighed before shaking his head. "We're asking for your help." "Oooh, now you are talking my language... You must be truly desperate to come to me for help." Madison grinned while leaning forward in the chair. Jack ignored her before circling around her. His eyes studied every inch to make sure that she was secured. The CTU Director threw a file down in her lap before stepping away from the former Charlie's Angel. "Around the world, there have been countless groups that have been taken. There is no correlation between the groups that have been taken. Everything is random; race, age, ethnicities, and countries. With what little Intel that we have found, there is an operative that we believe is connected. She is a former Soviet operative that is associate with multiple terrorist organizations as well as a suspect in multiple government field agents." "And who is the former Soviet operative?" Madison asked before reaching down for the file that was put in her lap. "Xenia Onatopp." Madison's ears perked up as that name peaked her interests. "You know her?" Jack asked after noticing her reaction. "Only by reputation." Madison replied. "So, Jackie boy, what are you asking of me?" "Find out information you can and how Xenia ties to all of this. Also, find out where and why these different people are being taken." "Sounds a little beneath me, but I think I can manage to find a time in my busy schedule to pencil it in." Madison mocked as she lifted her hands, only to be limited by the restraints. "And what do I do about Xenia if she proves to be an issue." "Eliminate her..." Jack said coldly before glaring at the fallen Angel. "And just so you're aware. If you double cross us or betray, we will not hesitate to eliminate you. A small explosive has been implanted into the back of your neck. Try messing with it and you're dead. If we even suspect that you are playing with us or double crossing us, you are dead." "You certainly know how to talk to a lady." Madison said with a grim smile. “You have the resources and knowledge to track down Xenia. Find out what is happening and report back to us!” Jack ordered with an unamused look. In a remote location of Cuba, A convoy of trucks were heading toward a secure compound. Standing inside a watch tower, Xenia Onatopp oversaw as the gates of the compound opened wide and allowed the vehicles to pass through. As the trucks came to a stop, several armed men circled around and started opening the back of the trucks. At gun point, multiple individuals were forced out of the trailers and into the compound. These individuals ranged from children to elderly adults. Some were human and others were mutants. There were no connections between these individuals. There was whimpering and crying as the groups of innocent people were led into a fortified building. Xenia stood in the tower with a smile plastered across her cheeks. She did not see the people as lives, but merely as product being transported to its desired destination. Since she was placed in this position, she has seen multiple high value products being transported, some of which were sent out of the world. With Buddy Pine’s wormhole device, it made transporting products much easier. After receiving word of another successful transport, Xenia sauntered through the compound. She reflected on her first assignment for the Council in Cuba. Remembering her battle with the operative under the codename of Paloma, the Soviet assassin grinned after reflecting on defeating the skilled agent. She then recounted her time of being in London following the Kaiju attacks. After close call with that assassin known as Kate, Xenia was able to fulfill her assignment in taking out Japan’s Prime Minister. Now, she was back here in Cuba. Overseeing the transport of countless lives across the universe. Since being here, she faced little resistance. Ever since the change in leaders across the world, it has made her assignment much easier. As she walked through the compound, she received an alert on her telepad. Looking over the device, a devilish smile formed across her cheeks. She sent a message to the others not to engage as she wanted to deal with this herself. The former Soviet retrieved a submachine gun from the armory and made her way to the sector that sent her the alert. As she sauntered into the area, she saw a couple fallen guards that had been silently taken out. She quietly made her way around a corner, until she saw the outline of a woman. “Madison Lee?” Xenia said in her thick accent. Madison grinned as she quickly made her way for some cover. The former Angel drew her gold-plated Desert eagle pistols and held them in the air. “Xenia Onatopp… It certainly has been a while.” “I heard you were in prison.” Xenia chuckled. “Do you really think prison can hold someone like me?” Madison boasted. “You shouldn’t have come here!” Xenia hissed. “I will enjoy this very much!” “I’m sure you will!” Madison responded before looking for an opportunity to strike. ******************** This takes place roughly the same time as the events of Cyclops vs. The Cyclops. Jack Bauer, Phil Coulson, and Abe Sapien discovered that people from across the world have been taken and have disappeared without a trace. Their only lead a cryptic intel message that Xenia Onatopp is a part of it. With world leaders and government agencies compromised, they reluctantly recruit Madison Lee to find out what is taking place. Madison tracks down Xenia and travels to a compound in Cuba. After Madison sneaks onto the base, Xenia learns of her presence and decides to confront her, herself. Madison Lee is armed with her duel gold-plated Desert eagle pistols and a small, gold-plated Walther PPK that is in a holster strapped to her ankle Xenia Onatopp has a submachine gun.

Thanks for helping this Rumble break 1K views!

Season 4 2 on 2 tournament round 1 Match 130 Location: training hall Season 4 rules The pairs have fought each other before teaming up. So they’ve been on the receiving end of their partners capabilities. Sized-down factor- applies to giant characters such and Kaiju and mecha, reducing them to human size so that they can fairly engage with normal sized characters. In the case of mecha, realize that the pilot is still inside basically shrunk down so there’s a little man inside the robot that can be dealt with to win the match. If the pilot can’t control his machine he looses. Unless stated specifically to the contrary, all characters are ‘in character’. Good guys will try to subdue or knock out or whatever. Those who are willing to kill if the challenge pushes them there will. Subdue or incapacitated means that a character losses if they are unable to fight for lets say a ten count like in boxing. So healing factors and reincarnating and stuff won’t matter if enough damage is done for a ten count. Everyone is at base power level. They have standard equipment that they would normally have access to. For those with extensive arsenals, just assume they have the tools they need to get the job done if it’s something they would have if they knew what they were getting into.

I'll say Greyback. Feeling inspired to use Callum in the tournament. See if I can find him a partner.

Lambda 11 for me.

I am Lord Zedd: Part 46 -------- I was in my Z Ranger suit, while fighting the Zeo Putty Rangers in the rocky wasteland. I used my Z-Staff to beat away at the Zeo Rangers. I planted the staff into the ground, then spun myself around the weapon, while my feet were kicking away at all five Putties. After the third kick, the Zeo Rangers were sent flying, and crashing to the ground onto their backs. I watched, as the Zeo Putty Rangers were slowing getting back up. “I’m the one that created you! Which means, I can destroy you!” I shouted. I used my staff to fire five white-energy beams. The Zeo Rangers cried out, as they each got hit by a beam. Using the beams I pulled the crystals out of their bodies. Then I used my powers to turn the crystals back into the Zeo Crystal. It didn’t take long for the Zeo Rangers to be reverted back into Z-Putties. The Putties looked at themselves in shock. Using my powers, I brought the Zeo Crystal to my left hand. "You clay-brains should have never betrayed me." I said. I used my staff to create five soccer balls that hovers in the air. Then I used my staff to launch the balls at the five Putties. The balls each hit a Putty in the Z-Spot. The Z-Putties glowed white before they exploded into pieces. Once the danger was over, I powered down my Z Ranger suit. “Well, that’s one problem solved. Now to get everyone off the planet before Dark Specter gets here. Hopefully, the others had the Command Center working again.” I said. Soon, I teleported away from the rocky wasteland. ****** I appeared inside the Command Center. The place was finally back up and running again. “Lord Zedd, you’re back!” Katherine cheered. Alpha, Goldar, Lauren, Minh, Princess Shayla, the Mighty Morphin team, and the Ninja Storm team were already inside the Command Center. I also noticed that the Wild Force and Overdrive Rangers were here as well. “Hey, guys. Nice to have you back.” I said to the Wild Force and Overdrive Rangers. But the two Ranger Groups weren’t happy to see me. I realized why they were mad at me. “So, I take it you heard my origin story?” I asked. “Oh, yeah. The others have told us everything.” Cole said. “How you’re not the Real Lord Zedd.” Mack said. “That you come from another universe where our world is a TV show.” Taylor said. “And that you were playing dictator.” Dax said. “Look, all of us are mad at you for what you did to our world. But you’re the best shot we’ve got of saving everyone.” Danny said. “So, we’re willing to let it slide.” Will said. “For now.” Alyssa said. “Well, that’s good to know.” I said to the two teams. “Hey, is that the Zeo Crystal?” Goldar asked. Everyone notices me holding the giant crystal. “Yes, it is. We don’t have to worry about the Zeo Putty Rangers anymore.” I said. “Well, that’s a relief.” David Trueheart said. I looked over to Alpha. “So, how are the transporters?” I asked him. “They’re good to go. But there is something you need to know.” Alpha said. “What’s that?” I asked. “Even if everyone is transported off Earth and onto Zordnia, a lot of people are going to be confused and scared, as to why they are on another planet.” Max said. “Not to mention the United Alliance of Evil aren’t the only aliens that have a grudge towards humans.” Ronny said. “We think it would be best if a group was already on Zordnia to help and protect people.” Rose said. “In other words, we’re going to have to split up. So, I take it you all have decided who’s staying and who’s going?” I asked. "Yes, my team and I will be going to the planet." The leader of the Overdrive Team said. “The Wild Force Rangers and I are going as well.” Princess Shayla said. “The Ninja Storm Team is going too.” Shane said. "But I will be staying here to help Alpha with the evacuation." Cam, the Green Ninja Storm Ranger, said. “The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers will stay here to protect the Command Center.” Adam said. “I’m staying on Earth to rescue my mother.” Minh said. “You already know my decision.” Goldar said. “There’s enough Power Rangers going to Zordnia, so I’m staying here.” Lauren said. “Well, if everyone is ready, let’s get this show started.” I said. “I’m setting in the coordinates to Zordnia.” Alpha said, as he started working on the control panel. “Be careful, guys.” Cam said to his team. “You too.” Tori said. “Ok, sending you off now.” Alpha said, as he hit a button. Princess Shayla, the Ninja Storm team, the Overdrive team, and the Wild Force team were teleported away. Goldar walked over towards me. “You think it was wise to send most of our warriors away? What if we need their help?” He asked. “Don’t worry, Goldar. I’m all the manpower that you all need.” I said. Suddenly, the alarms went off. “What’s that?!” Minh yelled. “It’s the alarms! They go off if something strange happens on Earth!” Alpha exclaimed. “Well, that’s good that they’re working again, but what’s setting them off!” I yelled. After Alpha turned off the alarms, and he looked at the control panel. “There are life forms miles away from the Command Center. I will bring it up on the Viewing Globe.” He said. We saw an image on the Viewing Globe that showed an army of humanoid soldiers. “Those are Rinshi!” Aisha yelled. “Are they here to attack the Command Center?” Rocky asked. “No, wait. There’s something in front of them.” Adam said. Standing in front of the human-like creatures was a gorilla monster that let out a load roar at the army. “Hey, that’s Primator! But how is he back?!” I yelled in shock. “Well, back when Tommy started his invasion of Earth, he had Finster recreate his old monsters, including the ones that you created. Primator was one of a few monsters that never got destroyed.” Goldar said. “Well, Finster did a fine job of bringing Primator back to life.” I said. “Looks like we’re not in danger. It’s just another turf war.” Katherine said. “Hmm... Say Alpha, how many Rinshi are there?” I asked. “The system says there are 100 of them.” Alpha said. “Ah! The old ‘100 men versus a gorilla’ meme!” I laughed. “Everyone became confused. “Uh, what?” Lauren asked. “Oh, just something back in my world.” I said. ****** “You clowns want a piece of me?! Then come right at me!” Primator yelled. The Rinshi let out war-cries, as they came rushing towards the gorilla monster. -------- So, here is the next part to my arc. As stated in the setup, Primator is fighting 100 Rinshi. I hope everyone will enjoy this match. Who do you think will win here?

THE GANGLAND WARS: Part 13 CONTINUED FROM TOMMY SHELBY VS. VENTRILOQUIST & SCARFACE AND MR. NEGATIVE VS. TWO-FACE I watched from the second-floor window of Tommy Shelby's office as the Peaky Blinders traded gunfire with Scarface, the Ventriloquist, and the rest of their crew. It was the second shootout I'd found myself orbiting in as many days. Fortunately, this time I had the good sense to watch from a safe distance. Even so, I kept low behind the window frame. The gunfire finally died, leaving only drifting smoke and the echo of spent brass hitting cobblestone. Scarface's gang lay scattered across the street. The Ventriloquist staggered from behind cover, desperately searching for somewhere. Anywhere, to hide. He made it three steps before a fresh volley tore through him. He collapsed without a sound. Scarface flew from his limp hands, bounced once across the pavement, then splashed into the river. The wooden dummy disappeared beneath the black water almost instantly. From where I stood, I could have sworn I still heard Scarface screaming obscenities all the way down despite the Ventriloquist laying lifeless on the ground. Tommy Shelby strode over to the corpse, lit a cigarette, and looked down with an expression somewhere between annoyance and disbelief. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this bloody city." Neither would I. The entire trip had been a disaster. There would be no war between Sal Maroni and Ma Gnucci. No profitable arrangement for Whitney to negotiate with the Peaky Blinders now that the Soviet Syndicate had swallowed that district whole. The only thing I still had going for me was one of the Jin Scrolls. Maybe that would be enough leverage to buy my way back into the Theatre District. I turned toward the door and froze. Someone was already waiting. It was Nina Williams. She leaned casually against the doorway as though she'd been there all along. One hand rested comfortably on her pistol. I reached instinctively for my own gun. She drew first. "I wouldn't," she said pleasantly. "I'd hate for our conversation to end before it properly begins." I slowly raised my hands. "What are you doing here?" "After our little chat this morning, I became curious." Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "I wondered what business you could possibly have with the Peaky Blinders." She glanced toward the bodies outside. "I certainly hoped it wasn't with the puppeteer." "It wasn't," I answered quickly. "I had nothing to do with them." "So you say." She studied me for a long moment. "And yet chaos seems to follow you wherever you go." I had no response. "I finally remembered where I'd seen you before,” She looked me up and down. "Even hiding behind that laughable attempt at an Irish gangster disguise. You're the hood Penguin put a price on." My stomach tightened. "Between that and the fact you have one of the Jin Scrolls makes you very interesting,” said Nina. Before I could say another word, the office door swung open. Tommy Shelby entered with Johnny Dogs, the pair already discussing how to secure the district and future smuggling deals after eliminating Scarface and the Ventriloquist. The conversation stopped the moment Tommy spotted Nina. "Nina." "Tommy. Johnny." She greeted them with a polite nod before gesturing toward me. "I assume you've met East Island's most mysterious visitor." "Aye," Tommy replied. "Though the message Madam Masque sent him with, came a bit too late to be useful." Nina's eyes drifted back to me. "So that's it. You're working for Madam Masque." The pieces visibly clicked together in her mind. She folded her arms. "I was wondering who you belonged to." "You aren't planning to hand me over to Penguin, are you?" I asked. Nina laughed outright. "Hardly. I don’t work for Oswald and in any case, there is no money to be made in that bounty anymore. Penguin's gone." My eyebrows shot upward. "A nest of Serpent Society mercenaries overran his district. They've already claimed it as their own,” stated Nina. The news hit harder than I expected. Big Boy Caprice, Ma Gnucci, and now Penguin. Crime bosses were disappearing faster by the minute. For all I knew, Harvey Dent had already fallen to the Triad. Gangland wasn't simply changing, it was devouring itself. "Which means," Nina continued, "that bounty on your head isn't worth the paper it was printed on." She nodded toward the scroll tucked beneath my coat. "That, however, very much is still valuable." Tommy scratched thoughtfully at his jaw. "Part of me's tempted to put a bullet in him right now." Johnny glanced at me. Tommy continued. "Take the scroll. Present it to Geese. Would do wonders for our standing around here." His gaze drifted toward the street outside where fresh corpses littered the pavement. "And after having to fill one of our best customers full of lead, we could use a win." He took another drag from his cigarette. "But making an enemy of Madam Masque while we're still finding our feet doesn't strike me as good business." Nina looked toward the window. "So, what exactly was that little massacre about?" Tommy exhaled smoke. "The Ventriloquist claimed Hammerhead gave him permission to wipe us out. Said it was a gesture of solidarity with Harvey Dent." Johnny snorted. "Assuming the daft bastard wasn't lying. He wasn't exactly what you'd call a reliable witness." "Whether it was true or not, your concern is clearly coming from that direction.” Nina pointed north. "Hammerhead. If there's even a chance he sanctioned that attack, your border just became a lot more important." She looked Tommy squarely in the eye. "Protect Geese's northern flank. I promise you, he'll remember who stood with him." Tommy exchanged a glance with Johnny, then he nodded. "Fair enough, we owe Geese that much." Nina smiled. "A pleasure as always, gentlemen. If anything ugly comes floating downriver from Hammerhead's district, do let me know." She looked directly at me. "As for you. I think it's time we paid Geese Howard a visit." That sentence did more to unsettle me than the entire gunfight downstairs. How would he react to me having one of the scrolls? Geese Howard wasn’t known for being patient or particularly interested in negotiations. It was why I had become convinced that Harvey Dent’s plan was always doomed to fail. When I arrived at Geese Tower with Nina, it was everything I'd heard about and then some. The place didn't merely project power. It seemed designed to intimidate anyone who had the misfortune of walking through its doors. Every floor was another reminder of Geese Howard's reach, armed guards, hardened enforcers, expensive machinery, and enough firepower to make a small army reconsider its career choices. There was only one elevator that went directly to Geese's office at the top of the tower, and if you didn't already know where it was, you'd never find it. Geese wanted visitors to climb. Not literally all the way to the top, but far enough to get a good look at the empire they'd be dealing with. The elevator was a privilege reserved for those who already knew better than to waste his time. The message was simple. Before you reached the king, you had to walk through his kingdom. It worked on me. By the time Nina and I reached the elevator, I was more intimidated than I'd been at any point since arriving in Gangland. Nina noticed. She said nothing. She merely glanced at the scroll partially concealed beneath my jacket. The elevator carried us straight to the top. When the doors opened, we stepped into Geese Howard's office. The former king of Southtown was in a foul mood. He sat behind an enormous desk, one hand clenched around the armrest of his chair. "Why haven't we heard from Billy?" he asked with irritation and anger. His blue-haired butler, Hein, stood nearby with his hands folded neatly behind his back. "At this point, sir, I believe it is safe to assume he's encountered some difficulty." Hein adjusted his glasses. "Perhaps I should travel to the Warehouse District myself and retrieve him." Geese considered the suggestion, then he noticed us. His eyes immediately settled on Nina. And then me. Standing behind his desk was Roberta, his maid. She hadn't said a word since we entered. She simply stood there in her immaculate black-and-white uniform, long dark braids hanging over her shoulders and a pair of glasses hiding her eyes from view. Yet I could feel her watching me. There was something unsettling about that. Geese leaned back. "Nina." "Geese." His eyes moved toward me. "Who is this?" "A representative of Madam Masque's organization," Nina replied. "He came to East Island to conduct business with the Peaky Blinders." Geese's expression barely changed. "That seems..." He stopped. His eyes narrowed. The corner of the scroll was visible beneath my jacket. His entire demeanor changed. "The Jin Scroll." He stood up immediately. "He only has one of them," Nina clarified. "The presence of that scroll here could explain rather a lot,” noted Hein. Geese stepped around his desk. "Were you planning to use that to buy something from Tommy Shelby and his men?" "No." "Then why do you have it?" Geese took another step. "And for what purpose did you bring it here? To try and bribe me?” I had been working on an answer that wouldn’t directly sell out Whitney since Nina and I entered the tower. I'd come up with several. None of them sounded particularly convincing now. Not with Geese Howard standing three feet away. Not with Nina watching me like she was waiting to see which lie I'd choose. And certainly not with Roberta standing silently behind Geese burrowing a hole in me with a distrusting glare. "I…” A deafening alarm suddenly tore through the office. Red lights flashed. Somewhere below us, gunfire erupted. Geese didn't even flinch. Neither did Roberta. One of the walls rotated, revealing a bank of monitors displaying security feeds from throughout the tower. Hein walked toward them. "What do we have?" Nina pointed. "There." The image showed a man advancing through the third floor. He wore dark sunglasses and had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He walked through Geese's security forces with the casual confidence of a man crossing a street. Every few seconds, another guard dropped. The man never seemed hurried. He never seemed particularly interested in the men shooting at him. He simply kept moving. Hein looked over his shoulder at me. "Is this another of Madam Masque's associates here for him?" Nina shook her head. "No. That's Tommy Monaghan." Geese looked toward her. "Tommy who?" "Hitman." Nina's eyes remained fixed on the monitor. "One of Gotham's most notorious contract killers." "Gotham?" Geese's lips curled into a smile. "So, Dent sent him as payback for Yamazaki.”” "It would appear so." Geese laughed. "Then let him come. I'll crush him myself." Nina shook her head. "I don't think he's here to challenge you like a Terry Bogard. He’s here to put a bullet in you. Probably several" "He wouldn't be the first to try." Geese declared. Hein glanced toward Nina. "How familiar are you with Monaghan?" "Enough." Nina watched Tommy disappear from one camera and reappear on another. "He's particularly notorious among professional assassins because of his track record of going after highly powered targets." She unholstered her weapon. "I'll—" Nina stopped before completing her sentence. Roberta had stepped forward. It was such a small movement that I almost missed it. Nina lowered her weapon. "Or..." She looked at Roberta. "...I could sit this one out." I stared at Nina. She wasn't afraid of Roberta, but she respected her, enough to defer. I knew Roberta was not some simple maid the moment we had arrived, but this was still surprising to me. Roberta turned toward Geese. "Master Howard." Her voice was soft, almost gentle. "Please remain here." She removed her glasses; she untied her apron and folded it with painstaking precision. "I will take care of the intruder." She placed the apron neatly on the counter. Another section of wall slid open. Behind it was an armory of rifles, handguns, explosives, and heavy weapons. Roberta examined the collection with the quiet concentration of someone selecting ingredients for dinner. She picked up a rifle, rejected it, then selected another and checked the ammunition. Then reached for a weapon fitted with a grenade launcher. There was no hesitation in her movements, no excitement., no bravado. Just preparation. "I will conclude this interruption quickly," she said. She glanced toward me. "Then we may return to our discussion of the scroll." And with that, Roberta walked out. She was carrying enough weaponry to start a small war. Hein watched the door close behind her, and a faint smile crossed his face. "The Bloodhound of Florencia has selected her prey,” he said. I looked at him, then at Nina. Neither seemed particularly concerned. On the monitors, Tommy continued his climb. Another squad of guards rushed him. He dismantled them with brutal efficiency. One after another, he kept moving. I watched the footage. Then I looked at Geese. He wasn't worried, Hein wasn't worried, Nina wasn't worried. Nobody in that office seemed remotely concerned about the assassin marching toward the top of the tower. Nobody except me. Because I had just watched one professional killer walk into a building full of armed men without breaking stride. And then I'd watched another professional killer calmly pick up a grenade launcher and go looking for him. I leaned closer to the monitors. One thought kept circling through my head. Just who the hell was Roberta?

Gotta go with Mister Negative.

Thanks for helping this Match break 3K views!

Great run, Venom. i was a little surprised to see it concluding, but stopping at 100 makes a lot of sense. Very scary version of Waspinator but I think I'm going with the seeming consensus and picking the cartoon network universe. Cheers to your arc.

Good to see you here @DSkillz. I think we’ve been in each of the drafts that have happened, would feel weird without ya in this one.

Season 4 2 on 2 tournament round1 match 129 Location: hotel lobby Season 4 rules The pairs have fought each other before teaming up. So they’ve been on the receiving end of their partners capabilities. Sized-down factor- applies to giant characters such and Kaiju and mecha, reducing them to human size so that they can fairly engage with normal sized characters. In the case of mecha, realize that the pilot is still inside basically shrunk down so there’s a little man inside the robot that can be dealt with to win the match. If the pilot can’t control his machine he looses. Unless stated specifically to the contrary, all characters are ‘in character’. Good guys will try to subdue or knock out or whatever. Those who are willing to kill if the challenge pushes them there will. Subdue or incapacitated means that a character losses if they are unable to fight for lets say a ten count like in boxing. So healing factors and reincarnating and stuff won’t matter if enough damage is done for a ten count. Everyone is at base power level. They have standard equipment that they would normally have access to. For those with extensive arsenals, just assume they have the tools they need to get the job done if it’s something they would have if they knew what they were getting into.

I think Amazin-Man has just the right powers to beat Anubis.

Keep it up. This was quite unique.

If allowed would Asuka use lethal force against Tommy or the Symbiote?

A few I can think of Frank Castle Punisher as a Red Lantern Steve Rogers as a Blue Lantern would be cool too My recent match was from a convo with a friend, Asuka Kazama as a Green Lantern Another crossover Green Lantern from fighting games Ryu from SF I can see M. Bison as an Orange Lantern

Thanks everyone for the replies and reactions! 😃 Yes, this is every character from Cartoon Network's entire history. By the look of things, the CNU is going to win here. Also, yeah, I asked an AI what Waspinator would look like with the items, and it made me this awesome image.

Good match. I think Mister Negative will win.

Good match. I really don't know Marko. So, I'm going to give my vote to Jaws.