[Inside the screen] However, before he had a chance to think about extinguishing the life from his enemy's body, a new presence made its presence felt in the room, and The Copycat, aware of this fact, after his weapons disappeared from his hands, performed a backflip, reaching his enemy, who was then kicked in the chest. A description box appeared on the screen, while the image was slowed down long enough for the new individual's features to be glimpsed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Name: Hatena360. Race/Species: Unknown. Age: Unknown. Abilities: Superhuman strength, remarkable endurance, considerable speed, considerable agility, quick reaction. Skills: Firearms handling specialist (Specialty: Knife-Sawed-off repeating shotgun), hand-to-hand combat specialist, skilled fighter with one-handed knife, breakdancing. Powers: None. Special ability: None. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[Off-screen] [Cinematic multiverse; Universe: MCU, Age of Ultron period, Avengers Tower] ─Wow! Wow! I thought it would just be a one-off fight, but it looks like our friend will have to deal with more enemies if he wants his freedom─said Tony Stark. ─It seems so. What I find most intriguing is why is this organization doing this inhumane act? Why free a man and make him fight for his life when he is already sentenced to death? It is very cruel,─ Natasha Romanoff said seriously. ─I'd like to know the same thing. I sincerely hope it's not for fun and much less for sadism. I'd be disappointed if a state agency in charge of protecting its civilians is doing this to a few unfortunate people who were born with powers ─said Steve Rogers, with a grimace of disgust. "Well, we can all agree on that, Cap," Tony Stark said, settling himself more comfortably in his seat as he loaded his notebook with notes on the lightsaber seen on the screen. "What are you doing, Tony?" Bruce Banner asked, confused. ─I'm taking notes on those lacerer swords. I want to see if I can replicate this technology in some way and incorporate it into my armor. Although I confess that I don't know how I would incorporate this type of weapon into my equipment, but I do know that I can use this knowledge in a different way. ─said Tony Stark, with a pencil at the ready. ─Are you serious, Tony? Not long ago we were at the mercy of Ultron, because of a mistake you made. If the screens hadn't intervened, it would have probably ended in a bigger tragedy ─interrupted Steve Rogers, clearly irritated with his partner. ─Hey! I'm sorry, yes... I know I was wrong about Ultron, and nothing I do will be enough to replace the lives Ultron took. I only wanted to do good... but I was wrong ─said Tony Stark, with some irritation and pain that he tried to hide under his proud and irritated facade. "We know your intentions were the best, but we would feel safer if in the near future you were not experimenting with things you don't know about," said Clint Barton seriously. "Hand over the notebook, Tony," Steve Rogers ordered, his hand extended. At that moment, Tony Stark understood, he recognized that his companions had stopped trusting him, although not completely, said trust was seriously affected by what he had caused. Not seeing another option, he handed over the notebook without protest or bad temper, simply accepting the facts and staying in his seat in complete silence while his gaze focused on the description box on the screen. He was an inventor, he wanted to create new technology, but he was also a philanthropist and wanted to help in some way, because of these wishes, without anyone noticing, through his phone connected to the AI Friday, he sent the aforementioned an order, being to record and take notes about the technologies that could appear on the screen and develop possible plans for their replication for later experimentation. [Multiverse series; Universe: Game of Thrones: First season, period before the king's visit to Winterfell, The North, House Stark, great hall] ─Hey, Rob! Look! Another fight is about to start! ─said Arya Stark, even more excited to continue watching another fight. ─Yes, I'm watching, Arya. Looks like we won't be without entertainment for a long time,─ said Rob, with a big smile. ─I agree, young lord. I also share your excitement for the upcoming fights. The last one, despite not being as skilled as this guy, The Mimic, demonstrated a combat prowess that could even surpass that of Arthur Dayne himself. In all my life, I have never seen a warrior strike as fast and unpredictably as this Shuriken. ─said the weapons master, Rodrik Cassel, with a big smile. ─We can agree, Sir Rodrik. They are formidable warriors that, without a doubt, any house in Westeros would kill to have in their service. I might add that even Dornell's red viper, and the kingslayer, would not stand a chance against these warriors. ─Ned Stark said lightly. ─Although it is difficult to believe such statements coming from others, I cannot doubt any of them, especially after what we have just seen,─ said Rob Stark, with some surprise. "And who is this new warrior, my dear?" said Catelyn Stark, curious about this new man. ─It seems that her name is Hatena. She doesn't have a last name, she must be an ordinary person... I must say that I find her name strange, but why does her name have numbers? ─said Ned Stark, with a raised eyebrow. "My lord, it may be part of your name," Jon Snow said submissively, trying to look less threatening to the unpleasant woman, who could see out of the corner of his eye her brow furrow at the mere sound of his voice. ─It's possible... Son. Although I must say that it's strange to see an ordinary person with a surname, and even more so that it's numbers... But these are unimportant things. What do you think of this new guy? ─Ned Stark asked, in an attempt to divert his "son's" attention from his wife's displeasure. ─Honestly, I don't know what to think yet, nor am I even sure how to feel about this situation. I am uncomfortable, my lord. Why would the gods show us this? I cannot see what they gain from this... Do not misunderstand me, I do not want to question the old or new gods or the purpose behind their actions. I have certainly learned from this experience by seeing things I never thought possible, but their intentions disconcert me and I fear for the safety of my brothers ─said Jon Snow, submissively. Realizing that he had called Lady Catelyn Stark's sons brothers in her presence, he quickly attempted to correct himself before the woman lashed out with some venomous and demeaning comment. However, just like her, he was not given the chance to correct himself, as his father did not allow them both. He accepted her concerns and excuses, taking them as justified. He was dismissed at that moment with the request that he eat something and return to his brothers to keep them company and protect them. [Multiverse: Animated; Universe: RWBY, first volume, period after the creation of the Hunter teams, Beacon Academy dining hall.] "So more fighters? I thought the screen would show us one fight or event at a time," Pyrrha Nikos said, her warrior blood burning with interest to see more fights, though outwardly she was as calm as ever, just a little restless and anxious about her own excitement. ─It seems so..., but this one, Hatena, doesn't seem to be better than the previous one, but quite the opposite. That's true. It has the notable advantage of using effective weapons in closed spaces. At least, that's what the screen says about its skills ─said Ren, analytical as always. ─That's true, Reni. The other one looked more impressive. He wasn't as strong as this one, but all his skills made up for his lack of strength and power ─Nora said, immersed in the excitement of seeing a new fight. "Relax, Nora," Ren said, seeing how his childhood friend and partner was becoming more and more intense. Of course, the girl obeyed solely and exclusively because it was Ren who was asking her. For his part, Jaune gave his opinion. "Well... we shouldn't underestimate him for lacking a greater number of skills either. This one, Mimic, is someone who is above average, and this one, Shuriken, couldn't even touch him, despite his skills, but we simply can't judge this guy without even seeing him fight," Jaune said analytically. ─You're right, fearless leader! ─Nora said, regaining her initial excitement. "I guess you're right. This Hatena guy might surprise us," Ren said stoically. [Inside the screen] The individual, now recognized as Hatena, received the first blow squarely, without the possibility of blocking, causing him to bend in place, which he took advantage of to dodge a second kick that was going for his head; at the same time, he prepared to counterattack, achieving what the predecessor individual failed to achieve throughout his entire fight, connecting, at least, a blow to the face of the cursed thief who dared to take over his skills. Hatena wasn't done with him, though. The first blow was followed by a second, in the form of a powerful uppercut, which instantly lifted the Copycat up. With his head now exposed after the last blow, Hatena wasted no time in landing a left straight to his face on his way down. [Off-screen] The excitement of the frenetic combat witnessed, invaded every spectator of the infinite multiverse; said emotion only increased in intensity when this subject, who many considered inferior to his predecessor for being less skilled than the aforementioned; was the one who was able to connect the first blow to the Imitator. [Multiverse: Animated; Universe: RWBY, first volume, period after the creation of the Hunter teams, Beacon Academy dining hall.] At that moment, the entire JNPR (Juniper) team turned their attention to their fearless team leader, Jaune Arc, with big smiles on their faces, with the obvious exception of, Ren, who had a barely concealed smile of approval. ─You were right, Fearless Leader! You're not some kind of psychic, are you? ─Nora said enthusiastically. "Uh, no, sorry, Nora," Jaune said stupidly as he stroked the back of his head. ─Well, never mind... look at how they kick his ass! Come on, break his legs! ─Nora said, excited to an almost fanatical degree with the fight that led her to get up and stand on the seat she occupied. While she whistled at the screen, increasing the noise in the dining room. The teams close to Team JNPR looked at the boisterous girl with suspicion and perturbation at the loud statement that would be lively, if it weren't for the fact that she was asking for a person to break another's legs for her sick amusement. Of course, her team wasn't indifferent to the statement or the stares they received for their intense teammate's behavior. "Nora, sit down!" Ren said uncomfortably, forcing his companion to take her respective place next to him. ─But, Reni...! While these two were arguing amongst themselves, a certain redhead saw her chance to engage in a more personal conversation with the blonde boy. "Well, you were right, Jaune. I was truly surprised when this man achieved what another man was nowhere near achieving," Pyrrha said, giving the aforementioned a genuine smile. ─Yeah... well, I mean, it's logical... I guess, right? The other one was fighting a fresh person who hadn't fought another before him. ─said Jaune, a little nervous about the redhead's proximity. "He's probably tired from the fight earlier by now. That was a good observation on your part, Jaune. You're truly made for this position," Pyrrha said lightly, but with all sincerity. The praise caused Jaune to freeze in place, not knowing how to react or what to say, but knowing how to feel. At first he felt good to be recognized for something, especially by the girl, Pyrrha, who had been nothing but kind to him since he met her in the locker room before the hunter test. He felt happiness for this fact, which would be immediately stolen by his own lack of confidence in his own abilities that made him doubt his belonging in the academy, as he recognized that he did not deserve it. The first reason because he had falsified documents to enter and the second because he did not consider himself worthy of being in the presence of these people who earned their place, and not like him. ─You think so...? I don't know what to say..., but I don't think I can live up to your claims─said Jaune, with a lot of shame and lack of confidence. Of course, these words took the girl by surprise, who, although she had noticed the boy's lack of confidence when she met him, never imagined that it was so serious that she even doubted his leadership ability, a trait in which he excelled notably. Seeing this, Pyrrha did not know the reason, but this led her to take him firmly by the shoulder as a way of comfort, and not hurt. ─Jaune..., you should have more confidence in yourself. You've proven to be a great team leader. A really intelligent person and an exceptional strategist to rely on... You shouldn't put yourself down so much. Why do you do it? ─said Pyrrha, with a look of pity that she never thought she could give to anyone like she did with this boy. ─... Well... have you seen how they move? Isn't it amazing? ─said Jaune, in an attempt to avoid the topic, also looking away, not wanting to see that very present look that he didn't feel comfortable with again. Pyrrha was no fool. She immediately understood what her partner did, and did not press the issue further, although she wanted to, but her accommodating, respectful, and sometimes somewhat submissive nature did not allow it. Instead, she kept her questions and bitterness for not being able to help the boy to herself. Soon, she turned her attention back to the screen and the ongoing fight. [Inside the screen] But his good fortune was to run out one day. Suddenly, The Imitator reacted in a ferocious manner, like an animal that had suffered real damage; landing a very accurate blow to the liver, which went with enough speed that his fist was mistaken for a particle floating in the wild wind; consequently, Hatena doubled over in pain, then was thrown a few meters away. Unable to react, Hatena was the victim of a downward kick, enhanced with a somersault that hit him squarely in the face, which was instantly followed by two others, executed with the same martial formula, and from which he could not defend himself, either, nor from the Spartan kick that was followed by a right hook. However, Hatena managed to defend himself from this last attack, closing his guard, causing him to step back a few steps, which gave him the opportunity to counterattack with a powerful left hook to his blind spot, momentarily stunning the Imitator on the spot, who then became the victim of a shower of breakdance kicks, which caused him to step back as Hatena executed his deadly dance, which he finished masterfully by getting up in a beautiful breakdance jump of the style, whose falling momentum he took advantage of to connect a downward left punch, being so powerful that it would raise dust when he crashed his head against the slab, and then bend over himself and rise into the air, apparently incapacitated. The endless spectators, who saw this last blow, merely grimaced in pain out of reflex. Some did not understand how this man was still alive after his head hit the asphalt. Others, of course, could not care less about this fact, finding true entertainment in the broadcasted fight while other individuals, more moral and less excited by this type of "barbaric" demonstrations, had not forgotten the true purpose of this event, and because of this, they did not enjoy it, but rather they reprimanded and made those close to them or those in charge aware of the true nature of things, denying them the enjoyment of an inhuman event. Even in this state, the punishment did not stop, as soon as he was orbiting in the air, The Imitator, was received by an Uppercut, then Hatena, would jump to be at the same height. Then, he connected a couple of rotating kicks on his enemy. However, that would be all, because soon, The Imitator, recovered his senses, immediately counterattacking, easily intercepting in full descent the punches and kicks of, Hatena, that, collided with the attacks of the, Imitator. Upon landing, both marked distance between each other, for a few moments, and, being solely and exclusively to take the weapons stationed on their backs to only, the next instant, attack each other, resulting in an initial clash of weapons from which The Imitator would emerge victorious, who while advancing, attacked strategically, applying the necessary force in each attack to break the defense of his enemy, who was completely defenseless against the sharp blade, integrally incorporated into the firearm; that descended, managing to cut his face, as well as his body, causing greater damage, causing blood to flow and stain the ground. However, there is no time to complain and lament about his wounds, and for the same reason, Hatena does not conceive of his pain as important. The only thing that mattered at that moment was to fight and win, or be killed, and the latter was not an option for the fighter either. Taking advantage of just a second or less of delay in the next attack of the Imitator, Hatena counterattacked in a violent burst of speed that the Imitator could not foresee, and therefore suffered the consequence of having slowed down. Hatena managed to pass the sharp blade across the face of his enemy, making him bleed and retreat. Without slowing down, he continued attacking, this time with a downward cut straight to his face that was immediately accompanied by an upward attack. However, when he tried to continue his offensive, he was stopped in his tracks by The Imitator, who tried to clash their weapons with a stab with the barrel, which he immediately fired, causing blood to flow out while Hatena was fired along with the weapon that saved his life by being placed between his head and the barrel. [Off-screen] [Multiverse: Animated; Universe: RWBY, first volume, period after the creation of the hunter teams, Grim lands, Salem Castle.] A maddening cackle echoed through the halls adjacent to the throne room, the place where laughter finds its origin. This psychotic laughter belonged to one of Salem's inner circle, the easily recognizable faun, Tyrian Callows, who reveled in the heat of the combat he witnessed, enraptured by the sight of the first blood spilled, understanding that possibly very soon the fight would become more violent, chaotic and, above all, bloody. ─Silence, Tyrian! Your voice is so annoying! You interrupt the time I'm spending watching these screens...! Sit down... Now ─said Salem, in a tone that was not very patient and denoted a genuine annoyance that few had been able to hear from her. Tyrian, like any good, loyal dog, accepted the order, motivated by loyalty and fear in unequal proportions. He understood that he had taken too much of his mistress' patience, for this reason, he remained silent, but not before apologizing to his mistress. All who saw this were uncomfortable, felt fear and remained silent, keeping their personal and group conversations out of the hearing range of his mistress. ─These guys are pretty good in combat, and their weapons are unique. They don't seem to use dust. Man, I'd like to fight one of them. Especially the black guy... What's his name? ─Mercury said, extremely amused, slightly excited to avoid the grim woman's wrath falling on him. "They're both black... stupid!" Esmeralda said, rolling her eyes. "The guy who copies, grass head!" said Mercury, with a big mocking smile. But before Esmeralda could respond with an insult to her annoying and childish companion, Cinder intervened. “You two behave!” Cinder whispered, a frown making it clear how absolute her order was. The poor girl, already fearful, did not wish to fan the flames of her mistress's anger. Her subordinates understood the situation, and out of consideration, out of obedience, they chose to remain silent and continue to stare at the screen. [Multiverse: series; Universe: Vikings, season 3, pre-murder period of, Athelstan, by, Floki] In the banquet hall, Ragnar's warrior forces, his inner circle, as well as the legendary Viking himself, watched in awe and excitement building in their hearts at the fights on the screens. As warriors raised to love battle, they couldn't help but feel like children as they watched the individuals who had proven themselves worthy of being called warriors. Excitement bubbled through the banquet hall, manifested by shouts of support for none but the continuation of the fight that grew in intensity with each exchange that sent sparks flying. ─Father! These guys fight like true gods of war! I wouldn't doubt that they could easily slaughter the Christians, even if they came by the thousands! ─said Ragnar's firstborn, Björn Ironside, with a big smile of ecstasy. While raising a horn of beer. ─Certainly, son... certainly. They are formidable warriors who would fit in perfectly with us. No doubt, songs would be written about them for generations! ─Ragnar said, clinking ale horns with his son. "Do you think you can beat them, father?" said Björn, smiling even more before bringing the horn to his mouth. Before Ragnar could give his son an answer, someone else got there first. ─Do you really think anyone could stand up to your father... my beloved husband, in combat? The great Ragnar Lothbrock? Are you suggesting he is weak...? ─said the queen, Aslaug, in a passive-aggressive tone, with the arrogance of a woman of her social status. Of course, the woman's venomous reply did not please Björn, nor did it please his mother, Lagertha, who was not too far from her ex-husband, far enough away not to be uncomfortable with the woman he had changed her with, but far enough so that she did not miss any detail of the conversations. Both the son and the mother frowned, but before the situation could escalate, Ragnar intervened. ─That's enough... I won't allow any fight to start between us... The same goes for you, especially you ─Ragnar said, looking directly at his queen. Although Ragnar was a tolerant man with his children and wife, his tolerance and patience were not infinite, and if anything bothered him it was the discord within the family. "Yes, husband..." said Aslaug, writhing uncomfortably in her seat, like a snake whose tail has been stepped on. Ragnar sighed in his seat, turning his attention back to his son, who he saw smile at what he did, the same with his ex-wife. He really didn't want a family fight. He didn't want to take anyone's side to prevent grudges from growing. He didn't want his family to be broken, but the path he had taken and there was no turning back. He sighed and turned his attention back to the screen. [Inside the screen] Unwilling to waste any more time with this enemy, The Imitator chose to run out to meet him, while firing an energy charge that landed on a badly wounded Hatena, who, unwilling to die, performed one last survival tactic. When The Imitator was within reach of his legs, he lifted him up with a powerful kick, leaving him suspended in the air above his body, just long enough to gather all the excess strength in his being, being propelled by his hands, he concentrated all his muscular strength on his legs to execute a double kick that painfully impacted the Imitator's abdomen, who after involuntarily dropping his weapon, would be thrown out with the proportional force of a cannonball that would go through the absurdly thick ceiling, falling into a new room, where a new enemy awaited him, whom he immediately attacked from above with a hammer kick that shook the room.
