Toastburner slowly opened the letter...very slow, and very carefully.

He wasn't sure who the last joker was that sent him a "letter"...but the giant fireball that followed made TB suspect PyrosNine...for some odd reason.

Well, that an the fact that the message on the letter...Toast had a few seconds to read it before the fireball hit, was: "I don't think I've killed you recently...so here you go! -Pyros"

So, now Toast had taken to opening his letters very carefully. Fortunately, this one was not a death trap...only an invatation to one.

"Oh, great...another get together." TB muttered. He almost wished it was another five bomb letter...at least he would of died and gotten it over with. Going on an adventure with the NPFers lead to death...much death.

"I never should of respawned after Krylo killed me during Christmas," TB thought to himself. "I would of saved myself all kinds of grief if I had just stayed dead in the first place."

Still, TB had no desire to see an acoplyse come to pass. True, he had never experienced one, but from what he heard, they were not pleasent. Picking up his leafblower, and adjusting his hockey mask, Toastburner, in classic Leafblower Maniac form, began walking to Arhra's place.

This was the universe. Expanding, pulsing with matter and space, mystical.

In the Universe, galaxies lived and died. Stars birthed and perished, brilliant and deadly in their throes of life and death. Surrounding them... rings of cold stony materials clumped together and orbited in irregular circles.

Galaxies aside, there were the solar systems. But we focus on one particular world - a system of nine planets circling the fiery plasma ball that is named the Sun.

See Earth, with its blue surface and pleasant - yet horrifically oxidising - atmosphere. A low temperature ensures that water stays in its liquid state.

See the small creatures move upon the dry, solid surfaces that jut out of the blue planet like blisters upon a serene face. Both large and small, they were oblivious to the creature that watched them soaring high above them - so high in the sky that she was but a speck of darkness against the blue horizon.

Rhiya was currently catching a warm updraught over the ocean - on her back. Her wings were reversed in form, and a small fin-like projection helped stabilize her reverse-flight. Her brown eyes were closed, wisps of her hair catching in the wind and whipping across her neck now and then.

There was a squawk of surprise, then a dull thunk as a gull struck the 'rudder' and spiralled in a puff of random loose feathers to a lower flight course.

Rhiya grinned wrecklessly - a devious smile that was abruptly halted when a wet piece of paper slapped across her face, disrupting her mild amusement.

Grabbing the offensive paper, Rhiya was just about to toss it away in disgust when the half-smeared words caught her eye:

"You are cordially invited to discuss the imminent apocalypse over afternoon tea. Bring weapons. Sincerely, Arhra."

"ooOOooh, Arhra's invited me for tea! I bet he-- I mean... she - has lots of random mooks I can disembowel."

With that, Rhiya flipped over in one elegant, tight turn and changed course for Arhra's domain.

Electricity. It's calm. Serene. Happy to merely travel through a course set before it. Following along a path of least resistance to fulfill the purposes of those that harness it.

Or so some believe anyway.

Electricity is actually a harsh and aggressive element, always searching for a way to break free from its set paths and jump around in its chaotic way, regardless of the injury others may recieve while its having its fun. When gathered in great amounts it's an awe inspiring event, the electricity tearing through the atmosphere, screaming out in its thunderous roar, allowing all in the vicinity to know of its presence, and daring all to come and face it.

The God of Thunder knew this trait, and embodied it as such.

His home was a celestial place in the clouds, always thundering, especially during times like these. When the God trained.

"~[WALL]~"

A giant wall of thick concrete formed in a flash of blue light, solidifying and becoming a part of existance from a mention of a mere word. Its existance was momentary as a powerful fist struck against it, carrying through and shattering the very form of the obstacle. It crumbled, a cloud of dust and fragments blew out as the fist pulled back, the knuckles bruised and bleeding.

"~[WALL]~"

Another wall formed, and another strike of the fist obliterated it. The Thunder God seemed serene enough. There was no ragged breath, no sweat on his brow. Breath was a luxury that he only partook of when it pleased him. His hair, however, was scattered about his head, his eyes pouring out electric energy as he focused on his work at hand. Due to the lack of any nearby power source with which to gather supplementary electricity from, his body was covered in bruises and cuts, his training having gone on for the past three days. Regardless, he continued to create thick stone walls to destroy. They were easy to create. A mere symbol floating from his lips could manifest the ability to alter reality as he saw fit. Of course, the new tattoo on his back limited his ability to use the ancient words much more than before. His father, the High Creator, saw it as a necessary restriction. However, creating mere walls was still quite easy, and it helped immensely for his training.

"~[Boulder Rain]~"

The rune floated up, materializing as several large boulders formed in the air above him, coming down at crushing speeds. He widened his stance, tensing his muscles and stabilizing himself. The giant rocks struck his body hard, fracturing as they were unable to break his stance or his focus. The broken shards scattered about, surrounding his body with large mounds of stone. When the rain finished, he was still standing, but his upper back was now filled with gashes and deep gruesome marks. He kept himself focused, blocking out the pain. As he prepared for another volley, a small portal opened near him. Out through the portal walked a small boy. He sported a striking resemblance to Raiden, but had long streaks of brown in his white hair, and his eyes were a normal red instead of sockets of energy. The boy looked up at his father with a smile, an envelope in his hands.

"Daddy! You got a letter!"

Raiden looked down, taking the letter from the boy's grasp. The glowing liquid that constituted as blood in the God drenched the envelope, but still left the letter clear enough to read.

"Huh...the world's going to end again? What is it...the third time this month?" Raiden tossed the letter behind him, then looking down again at his child.

"Hey, Rai Jr. Could you do Daddy a favor and heal him? I'd rather not go find a power source. You know how pissy California gets when I give them blackouts."

The boy nodded happily, reaching his tiny hands up to press against his father's tummy. A strange symbol, the exact same kind that Raiden was using moments before, left Raiden Jr.'s lips and floated up, pressing against Raiden's flesh. Instantly the light spread, regenerating the Thunder God's wounds and leaving him as fit as if nothing had happened. Raiden smiled down, patting his son on the head.

"That's a good boy. Now, go stay at Grandma and Grandpa's place until I get back. Alright?"

The boy gave another nod, and then wandered back through the portal, leaving to do as his father said. Raiden, on the other hand, went off to find his personal cloud to head over to the meeting place.

Tarrin stepped thru the veil that sepperated the planes, As he did so the spirit form he had been traveling in melted into the physical form he was more used to.

Streaching, Tarrin rose from his kneeling position on the floor, The astral jaunts he took always left him very hungry famished even.
As he entered the kitchen a note on the frige caught his eye.
"Don't remember putting that there" he said to himself as he reached for the lilac coloured paper.

Reading the letter Tarrins faec was awed to say the least, He hadn't been in the NPF for long and he was already beeing called in for help "Nice" Tarrin said as he grabed a towel, "Guess that takes care of twhat to eat" making his way to the shower Tarrin started singing an old metalica song.

"Out of the new days mist i run, Out of the new days mist here i come, I hunt, Therefore i am"

Syttulg read the letter, and commanded the nannites to alter the envelope. After turning it into a new envelope with the recipient and return adress switched, he put eight of the nannites in and ran out the door.

"Excuse me, I think you made a mistake. I sent this a week ago, and I just got it back." He handed it to the baffled mailman and went back inside.

He waited until his own letter got delivered, and then had the nannites burst open the envelope, then teleported over.

"So, where is this tea?"

There in his mansion was Premonitions, playing video games as always. He was so intent on the monumentous task(to him anyway) the he barely had the presence of mind to notice th envelope fly in through the open window. It landed neatly on top of his television. He grunted and asked the empty room "what the hell is that?" the empty room, apparently spoke "it's a letter, you've got mail, I guess" Premonitions leaned to the side and pointed out the window to the void that was his pocket dimension "Look out there, how the fuck do I get mail?" The voice, sucked it's teeth " You look out there and tell me how the fuck you exist" Premonitions paused his game, "damn, I guess you've got a point". he got up and ripped the letter open, "Hm... well, I guess I got to go, DON"T TOUCH MY DAMN GAME!" the voice sighed "Yeah, I'll be sure not to touch with my physical hands that are attached to my oh so real body"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few minutes later Premonitions was fully clothed and equipped and stepped into the teleporter. Flipping on his preferred locations file to option twelve, he instantly vanished from the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
black lightning struck, a thick green cloud of smoke materialized and out stepped premonitions He blasted down arhra's front door and held up the letter. "SO WHAT'S THIS SHIT ABOUT THE END OF THE WORLD?"

Darth walked into his humble abode, calmly closed the door, then stood there and screamed. This lasted about four, five seconds. Then it abruptly stopped. There was no sign that he had just done so, at least not in his maneurism. Calmly, he took off his jacket, walked over to a chair, and placed it carefully on it. Then, he very systematically walked over to a closet, and opened it. Inside of it was a massive array of guns. And ammunition. And other essential tactical equipment.

Darth smiled a bit, then closed the closet, and went into the bathroom. He took a shower, and got changed, then came out feeling much better. A half hour before, a girlfriend had dumped him because his ghost arm was "creepy." She obviously did not appreciate the inherent coolness of having a stump, yet still having an arm. He wondered when his arm would be fixed...

There was a message on his omni-media center, a device that could change any message to any form. It turned his e-mail to voice, eerily making it sound like the sender. That wasn't on the list of features though, so Darth may need to check that. Anyways, he got Arhra's message.

He looked at his watch.

He was going to be late.

Forgetting that he could freeze time by grabbing chronitons, Darth sprinted over to his closet. He grabbed a vest, and tossed it on. Frantically, he also grabbed a katana, tossed it into the back of his vest, then grabbed some knives, strapping them on in various places. Guns. He needed guns. Lots of guns.

Indecision stopped him. Which to take? There were so many...and they were all so nice. Maybe the G36. Maybe the M4. Maybe the XM8. Darth glanced at the clock. Then he stuck his hand in and grabbed a weapon without looking. Of all things, he grabbed an unopened box.

Crap.

Frantically, he jammed ammo into his vest, and made a grab for some more. Out. Out? He was never out! The world was obviously headed for the apocalypse. Bouncing up and down like he had to pee, he grabbed a speed loader and a box of bullets. Very quickly, he loaded it, and stuck it in his vest. Then he grabbed the unopened box of gun, and sprinted out of his house.

There was a ringing on his phone right after he left. It was his dad phoning to tell him that, when he'd borrowed the watch recently, he changed the time zones and the watch was an hour fast.

A helicopter hummed high in the sky, its reporters surveying the boring traffic scenes below.

"...on Hitch's Highway, big jam, so be careful when you're heading to the city today," the reported droned, bored. The pilot veered gently towards the coastal highways and streets. Down there, the mansion that was Arhra's abode was sprawled lazily in the middle of a wide, grassy garden.

There, another helicopter had just 'dropped' off a passenger, and there was a bit of a storm brewing off the shore - where Arhra's home was closely situated. The Australian-Gold-Coast like strip of coast glittered and danced as light reflected off the blue ocean.

If the traffic reporters bothered to go any closer, they would see strange happenings. However, they passed a seemingly invisible boundary, and suddenly Arhra's home was obscured from view. Vanished, maybe, but the human mind was too pitiful to believe the unbelievable. What they saw from beginning to end was trees.

They of course did not see the speck of black in the horizon grow bigger by the second.

They of course did not see the shape fold two massive, great webbed wings tightly across her body.

They did not see the collision, but they DID hear this:

"<wh>eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEE!!!"

To them, it was a jet plane that hurtled past them at mach2 speed, heading in a straight, diagonal path downwards towards the patch of trees. The sound wave hit them like a solid thing, and the pilot lost control of the helicopter. The aerial vehicle spun out of the air, its occupants screaming into their mics.

~~

Arhra had but a moment's notice (thankfully, she had turned on the radio in case anything else was reported about the relevant plot) to realise part of her home was about to become broken plaster boards, rubble, and bits of mangled cables.

~~

"HIT THE GODDAMN BRAKES, RHIYA!!!!" A masculine, electrifying voice screamed from behind the chaos-diamond fans of the dragon's head. With a grunt of assention, Rhiya's wings snapped out, but it was too late.

"I should've NEVER been coaxed into this!" a second voice - distinctly feminine and ethereal - shrieked.

"I would advise you tuck youself low. It's going to be a... bumpy lan--" The dragon didn't finish her sentence before she hit planetside, four feet striking deep gouges into the earth.

The massive wings folded back like a protective umbrella over her passengers as Rhiya's chaos-diamond body ploughed forward, friction unable to overcome the large part of her gathered momentum.

"We're getting too close!" the male voice yelled again. The dragon half-closed her eyes, looking as if she was actually enjoying a ride that was ripping up half the countryside, leaving behind half a mile of upturned earth, ashphalt, street lights, and a few surprised suburbs.

"Hey! That's Arhra's mansion up ahead! Slow down, damnit!"

"She won't mind. Besides, I'd still have to pay for the damages later even if I didn't do this," came the amiable reply.

A few seconds later, ten tonnes of dragon ploughed into, through, and out the other end of Arhra's precious mansion, obliterating one of its wings completely. The rooms demolished included three toilets, two bathrooms (spas included), a kitchen, one and a half loungerooms (the other half looks a mess now anyways), a Games' room and a swimming pool. Miraculously, the tea-room was in the other wing, and survived utter destruction.

Just before Rhiya hit the wall of trees behind Arhra's mansion, her legs bunched and kicked out. Wings spread out, and Rhiya did a perfect wing-over, a cloud of debris trailing behind her draconic body, and landed softly in Arhra's backyard, scoring deep gouges into the perfect lawn with her large claws.

"... Oops. Time to get off now," there was definitely a wicked smile in Rhiya's voice as she got down carefully for her passengers to get off.

Mesia hopped off of the diamond dragon as soon as fucking possible, keeling over to the side as if she were about to hurl.

"Rhiya...I'd eat your soul if I could keep what's already in my stomach down..." she groaned, sending over a disgruntled look at the dragon.

"Wait a second! I don't have a stomach! Alright, I'm good. Soooooooooooooo, what'do we do now?"

There was motion under the rubble. Garud crawled out, even worse than before. He looked as if he had been through hell and back. Thing is, he had. But he also looked like a building fell on him.

"WHY DO THE GODS HATE ME? WHY? Well, at least Thorque is dead. Finally."

More rubble shifted and Thorque emerged unscathed.

"That tickled."

"Why won't you die?"

"I love you brother."

"Shut up and help me get this enormous plank of wood out of my back."

Garud stood shakily and saw that the plank, protruing from his chest, went right through his body, and was at least as thick as his rib cage.

"Would you look at that."

The demon slayer collapsed. Thorque moved over and jerked the peice of wood right out of his brother. Thorque then helped Garud to his feet.

"I am still blaming you for this."

"Did you know Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door?"

"I'm leaving."

Garud stumbled away from his brother, and approached Rhiya and the others.

"What the hell are you guys doing? Trying to kill me or something?"