This is the planet...175 million years ago. Few humans live here. Most that do are time travelers...or worse, time pirates.

It's the golden age of sauropods. Here and there, brachiosaurs, diplodoci, and apatosaurs guzzle vegetation as if it were their job. It might as well be. It takes more than faith, after all, to become the largest animals in the world...to date.

Some of the cows have calves. For a long time, they stay close. They're born seeing, hearing, walking, running, and eating...just like the many ungulates of our time.

In more dense woods, stegosaurs flaunt their many bony plates, while chowing down on the local flora. They're smaller than most apatosaurs...but they'd never be small enough for the few humans that live here and now...time-displaced though they are.

Not too far off, surrounded by brush, a pumpkin-like fruit grows. One probing nose later, the stegosaur finds it. With his foot, he smothers the pumpkin to pieces. The interior releases a lot of pungent fumes, upon the exterior's disintegration. This doesn't bother the stegosaur; a vegan, he's grown fond of such smells. And so, he chows down on the pumpkin's seeds and guts.

He only stops eating for a moment, to acknowledge something that passes overhead.

It's a formation of pterosaurs. They make creepy reptilian/bird noises as they fly overhead. They make flight look easy. Alas, most humans would know better...especially in my family.

Far and wide, the pterosaurs fly. There are plenty of spots for them to land. Alas, where can they land were an allosaur won't likely pounce on them?

These are the Eh-Yuh Highlands. They stand tall like a cluster of hills in the middle of a Jurassic forest. They wouldn't have a name if not for time travelers; specifically a certain Master of the Mystic Arts named Eh-Yuh.

Deep in a cave, an apparition arrives. It's all still rather unclear...but it seems it's brought a friend.

"Off my back, Seven," a man's gruff voice grumbles. "I'm not your daycare provider."

Many moments later, a man emerges from the cave. Or rather, he looks like a man. He's a mutant who's indigenous to a parallel planet called Mojoworld. There, he trained as a gladiator. As a mutant, he sports a superhuman condition. He's quite gifted with single-edged swords...and not to mention gladiuses.

Meet Gaveedra Seven. He's a rogue mutant gladiator out-of-time...as is the mutant cyborg that straggles behind him.

From where Seven stands, he can see for clicks. There's a coast not too far from here. The air smells clean...in spite of how many time pirates that've been here. A few pterosaurs fly here and there.

Seven's brought binoculars. He uses them, and surveys some of the pterosaurs. Sadly, none of them look like Lykos...

Up from behind him, Nathan Summers, a relative human, straggles. He's got a metal arm and an artificial eye; both products of a techno-organic breakout he once contracted as an infant. The contraction replaced many of his appendages with cybernetic prosthetics. In life, he's also had Deathlok upgrades.

In a flash, he uses his eye to scan the premises. "He's not here." He slaps Seven on the back with his metal arm, catching him off-guard. "Let's move on."

From behind them, an orange and white wolf joins them. She came along with them, from their time. Or rather, from her OWN time; in the time she's from, Summers is from the future, and Seven is from an alternate reality. This makes more sense to her when she's in her mutant human form.

She speeds off, with superhuman speed, and does some recon. It doesn't take her long to get back. Once she's back, she leads the way. Seven stays close behind her, and Summers straggles.


These are some big highlands. Their paths run long, up high, and down deep. It's hard to believe that humans didn't trail-blaze them...or that a wizard came here from the future, and terraformed them himself.

Summers doesn't plan to stick around. He waits until Feral and Seven are too far up ahead. Once they are, he vanishes into some shrubs. Here, he controls time with both his mutant power and his cybernetics. Soon, he's gone.

Onward forward, Feral and Seven roam. If they're not yet aware that their ride back to their time has abandoned them, they'll soon very well be. But it's just as well. Feral and Seven are both military folk. They don't live for the barracks; they live for the battle.

With a spiked-handled hatchet, Seven chops a lot of wood. He's not used to this. If only Summers hadn't abandoned them. He could probably turn his prosthetic arm into an axe, and have a heap of firewood chopped before one can say "Essex Corp."

Even so, Mojoworld is a big place. There, and growing up, Seven's fought in many arenas. Hell, several have been more reminiscent of the arenas in the Hunger Games movies. Alas, there weren't any mockingjays in them. Sadly, the mockingjay is purely a Hunger Games invention...

There were quite a few jabberjays, though. Ah, how Seven wouldn't love to recount how many insults those damn Mojoworld jabberjays have paid him...

Feral goes hunting. She brings back many compsognathi. By now, they're piling up in the campsite. With luck, an ornitholestes won't smell them, and raid the campsite before Feral and Seven can sleep in it.

Before long, no less than five of them are tied to a spit, and rotating over a hot orange fire. At the spit's end, there's a cam. A small cable has been threaded through it. Like a pulley, the cable turns the cam...via one of Summers's cybernetic gadgets, which sits on the ground nearby and is run by Belle, the AI in Summers's cybernetics.

Seven sits on the ground and smiles, while watching the compsognathi roast. He looks around, and wonders what, around here, he can use as a grindstone to keep his Mojoverse swords sharpened...

From behind him, a strange human creeps. She's tall. She's in a leopard bikini. She's a brunette. Her fingertips are claw-like...if not completely clawed...

Seven smiles, and scoffs. "You've got a long way to go from here to perfection...Ms. Callasantos."

"SHIT," Ms. Callasantos shouts. "How do you do that?!"

Seven smiles, and taps the sides of his ears with his fingers. It's a bit deafening to him...but he should be used to it by now. "I've superhuman hearing...in case you sometimes forget. Plus, I'm a Mojoworlder."

She scoffs. "One of these days, SOMEBODY'S going to teach me what the hell that means."

"How about Spiral? She's the six-armed bitch and right-hand man of Mojo, the autocrat of Mojoworld. Give you two enough time and the perfect arena, and you'll be in a stalemate forever."

"Yeah, yeah." She bends over, and points her ass towards the fire. She wiggles it around, as if trying to do something.

Smiling, Seven watches. He just LIVES for awkward moments like this...

"SHIT," she shouts, standing back up. "I keep missing my prehensile tail when I'm a human!"

"Miss on," Seven says, still smiling. "I could sure use a lifetime of that action."

She sighs. "One day, I'm going to break this habit. And when I do, the only time you'll ever see this lupine caboose is when you HAVE to. And I hope you never do."

With one of her claws, she cuts the bonds around the spit, releasing the grub. She burns her hands several times, while sinking her fangs into one of the compsognathi. Good thing Seven roasted five; otherwise, he'd be guaranteed not to eat tonight. He claims his compsognathus before it's too late.

The night passes. Seven and Ms. Callasantos sleep on the ground. In the night, the moon goes over the hill, and sets. Until then, the creepy insects of the night make noise. Many of them are as big as birds. Sometimes, Seven and Ms. Callasantos both mistake them for birds.

After that, a long period of black passes...moments before the first of dusk creeps over the eastern horizon. And like clockwork, the bugs are back, singing like...very loud bugs. One light at a time, the sun rises, and reveals everything.

Now, Ms. Callasantos lies atop Seven. Her chest is atop his face. She's got some very generously-sized hooters.

Seven wakes to them. He looks around. His nose is surrounded by two of the greatest hooters he's seen.

He's terrified, of course. He's afraid that if he moves, she'll slash his face. He's afraid that if he doesn't move, she'll STILL slash his face...

So, he improvises. Without warning, he throws Ms. Callasantos across the clearing. She wakes, of course, as she's rolling across the ground.

For this, she changes back into Feral. Seven takes up both of his swords, and greets her, for a bit of morning sparring...

The two fighters meet in the middle, weapons drawn. They're ready to have at it...

Alas, they're joined in their fight...by a swarm of ornitholestes. They gather around...like something that's smaller than a velociraptor but bigger than an ornithomimus.

In a flash, Feral and Seven go from facing towards one another to facing away. Now, their weapons are pointed at the real rivalry. Now, the fight for survival begins. And that's PRECISELY what Feral and Shatterstar are here for.

These ornitholestes look fierce. They've consumed many eggs in their time. Alas, that's not to say they won't try to kill a pair of humans, if they ever meet a pair wandering around in their time...like this time is their rightful place...or even a time pirate's...