The Ashlanders - Chapter 6: The Blind Man's Last Gambit (Closed, Started)

[Fappy]

Pixie approached the door cautiously; a million doubts and fears running through her head at once. What would she find on the other side? Was there another squad waiting for her? Would it be Tsubaki--her friend--standing by her charge, ready to kill anyone to protect Dio? Would Dio even be there?

Could he have escaped already?

Pixie looked down at the digital readout on her plasma rifle and sighed. The damn thing was on the verge of overheating. "Worthless piece of shit," she spat before dropping it on the floor and drawing her sidearm. Standing before the moonlit door now, the bandit simply stared at it, breathing heavily. Why was she hesitating? Why was she so afraid?

The Bandit Queen feared no man.

Get it together.

Pixie closed her eye and exhaled sharply.

It was time.

Now!

Pixie kicked the door in, nearly ripping it off its hinges. The room was rather large for a study, and oddly empty--with little more than a few shelves lining the walls and a large desk near the back. There was an enormous window on the eastern wall, opposite the desk, that stretched the entire twenty-feet between the floor and ceiling. The moon was low on the horizon, bathing the study in a silvery hue.

Pixie's good eye darted around the room, looking for her prey. She said nothing as she slowly stalked the marble tiles.

"It's been a long time, Meredith," a voice suddenly said. Pixie's eye widened, but she didn't jump or flinch. The acoustics of the room worked against her, masking the voice's origin. Cautiously, Pixie scanned the dark corners of the room. Where was he hiding? "Isn't this nostalgic? It's just like it was twelve years ago. Well, my study in Boomhower was a closet compared to this one I suppose. It's a good thing though. I imagine we'll need the extra room."

Pixie pulled back the hammer on her pistol and pointed it this way and that, preparing herself for an inevitable ambush. "You won' be walkin' away this time," Pixie hissed, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm a different person now. I'll finish the job."

"You didn't come of your own volition this time though, did you?" the voice remarked. "Contessa, that insufferable *****... she sent you, didn't she?"

"That's not why I'm here."

The voice laughed. "No, you're right, it's not," it agreed. "You're here to pay tribute to a dead woman. To deliver on a hollow promise you can't even remember making. Tell me, what's it like? To be consumed by something so petty?"

"Maybe if ya' come out an' play I'll show ya'," she whispered. A single bead of sweat trickled down her forehead.

Spoiler: Shit's Real

"What would Margaret think of you now?" the voice continued. "She worked so hard. Bled and sweat so much for you. To see what you've become; this... blood-crazed lunatic! This thief! How would she react to this betrayal?"

Pixie scoffed. "Margaret's dead," she countered, "Ya' can' betray a ghost. Yer gonna have ta' try harder if yer gonna get me rattled."

"And what of this 'Sprout'?" the voice said. "He seems like a strong lad."

Pixie's blood ran cold.

"Is it true, Meredith? Is he really my son?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Pixie spat. Her composure had crumbled.

How did he know? Had he always known?

Pixie pointed her pistol around the room frantically, trying to get a bead on her foe. "WHERE THE FUCK AR' YOU MOTHER FUCKER?!" she screamed. "I'M GONNA RIP YER FUCKIN'---" Before she could complete her threat Dio suddenly appeared out of the darkness, striking from her blind-spot. Pixie spun around and fired her pistol, but he was too fast. Dio delivered a swift chop to the back of Pixie's wrist, knocking the pistol from her grip and kicked her in the ribs, sending her reeling backwards.

Dio chuckled under labored breath and drew something from his jacket. The moonlight reflected off the winding surface of his dagger as he held it up for Pixie to see. "It's your old friend," he whispered with a cruel chuckle.

Pixie regained her footing and sneered. He was treating this like some kind of game. He was so confident in his abilities, so blinded by his own ego that he couldn't imagine how much danger he was truly in. Or maybe he wasn't? Perhaps his bravado was actually disguising a profound fear. Pixie had no doubt this man harbored ill memories of his near death at her hands.

Despite their brave words, they were little more than two frightened animals fighting to survive.

In that, Pixie had an advantage: she was a survivor. She always had been. Her whole life she'd been pushed around and spat on by those that would use her for their own gain, but in the end she always came out on top. She always took what was hers.

This confrontation would be no different.

Before the night was done she'd take his eyes for the price of her own. She'd rip his beating heart from his chest.

Pixie unzipped her tactical vest and tossed it to the floor. Dio looked as if he were about to remark on it before Pixie suddenly lashed out, throwing a dagger at him. Dio dodged too late. "SHIT!" he cursed as the small blade buried itself in his left shoulder. He would have ripped it out and tossed it aside as a show of strength, but Pixie was already on him, cutting through the air in a series of savage knife attacks.

The larger man furrowed his brow as he struggled to dodge and weave out of her attacks. One misstep and he was dead.

She was much better than he'd anticipated.

FUCK! he thought as he felt his heel hit the wall behind him. He was cornered. He had no choice, if he didn't strike back now he was a dead man. Gritting his teeth, Dio took a gamble and dropped low, throwing unwounded shoulder at Pixie's abdomen so as to tackle her to the ground. Her blade didn't intercept him, so that was good, but why then did he not have her pinned to the ground?

This question was answered when the base of his spine slammed hard against the marble floor. Pixie had rolled with his tackled and kicked him up and over her head, sending him soaring several feet across the study. She was up before he was. Dio rolled across the floor and sprung to his feet, his cruel dagger still in his hand. "COME GET ME, *****!" he called out as Pixie charged.

Pixie ducked low under Dio's attempt to intercept her and pressed her attack, swinging in wide arcs in front of Dio. "FUCK YOU!" he spat out of frustration, attempting to grab her forearm between attacks. Before he had her though she'd managed to toss her blade to her off-hand and sliced a gash from his jaw to the bridge of his nose.

"FUCK!" He screamed, releasing her arm and clutching his face. With his knife hand he lashed out in a barrage of reckless attacks. Pixie weaved in and out of his strikes effortlessly, pushing Dio further over the edge. "I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING HEART OUT, *****!"

"What makes you think I'll ever let you touch me with that knife ever again?" Pixie asked as she caught it between its cruel grooves with her own bowie knife. They struggled for a moment, their blades locked together, before Pixie suddenly drew a second blade from her belt and jabbed it in-between his ribs. He suppressed a scream and grabbed her wrist before she could remove the dagger. Gritting his teeth, he lurched backwards slightly and delivered a sudden, savage headbutt, throwing Pixie off balance and sending her staggering into the desk.

As the woman fought to regain her composure, Dio put his blade between his teeth and tore out the two still buried in his flesh. After tossing them aside he took his cruel knife in his hand once more, and approached his foe. Propping herself up by the elbow, Pixie managed to intercept his attack just in time by catching his knife arm on the way down. Using his momentum against him, she slammed his forearm against the desk and brought her own knife down, barely missing his artery. His fingers spasmed, forcing the knife from his hand.

The marble chamber shook with his anguished screams, but before she could rend his flesh further he reached out with his other hand and grabbed the side of Pixie's head. With stunning force Lord Basilio cracked her head against the desk twice before she released her grip on the knife and staggered out of his reach.

Dio roared as he pulled the large knife out of his forearm and dropped it carelessly on the floor. He was covered in his own blood now, but looked like he had plenty of fight left in him. Pixie slapped herself in the side of the head in an attempt to pull herself out of her daze. She was out of knives, but was in much better shape than Dio was. She had him on the ropes, as it were.

A long, awkward silence filled the room. Dio laughed, clutching his deep stab wound. "I hope you don't mind if I make a quick call," he muttered between ragged breathes.

Pixie narrowed her eye. What was he up to?

Grabbing a walky talky off the desk, Dio opened the channel and spoke. "Major O'Lafferty, do you copy?" he asked. "This is your Lord speaking. Are you in position? Over."

The worn-out bandit spotted her discarded pistol on the floor in her periphery. It was close.

She didn't have time for his games...

She'd end this now.

 

[Daystar Clarion]

Asad quickly shimmied open the elevator to the fifth floor of the tower after uneventfully repelling their way down the shaft in silence.

With a pistol in one hand, The Major quickly checked down each side of the hallway before proceeding to unbuckle Elizabeth from his back. "Coast is clear, take a breather now if you need one, we can spare a couple of minutes." He'd rather push on, but he thought it best he make sure the girl was okay. Last thing they needed was for her to not be mentally prepared for what was ahead.

Elizabeth suppressed a cough after taking off her breathing mask. The smoke from the smouldering elevator at the bottom of the shaft was nauseating, even with a breather. "No," she croaked while dusting the soot of her clothes. "I'm okay, Asad. I can keep going."

Taking off his own breather, Asad let out a sigh before letting a small smile curl his lips. "Good, but I still need one." The Major leaned inside the elevator entrance alcove. She couldn't really argue with him now.

Elizabeth offered a weak giggle. "Could we at least find a bench?" she whined.

"I thought you were okay?" Asad teased, raising an eyebrow.

"No reason to act tough when my knight in shining armor is the one asking for a time out."

"I'm old, what's your excuse?" Asad waved his hand dismissively as he led the girl down the corridor. There should be a foyer ahead if this was anything like the other floors.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Old?" she scoffed. "Are you even in your thirties yet?"

The two of them found the foyer littered with corpses. Fortunately it appeared the fighting was over... at least on this floor. Elizabeth kept her eyes ahead, ignoring the gory mess surrounding them as they pressed forward. Asad seemed to know where they were going.

"ASAD!" a voice suddenly called out from down the hall they'd just come from.

Elizabeth spun on her heel, ready to defend herself. And then she realized who it was.

Tsubaki? Fuck...

Spoiler

Her rifle pointing at the Major, Tsubaki stood in the entrance of the foyer, visibly trembling. "Asad..." she repeated, her voice weak.

Asad didn't turn as he hear Tsubaki behind them, his eyes wide for a moment. He wasn't the type of man to assume that word of his betrayal had been lost in the jamming signal, but he had hoped he could have gotten out of the city without having to explain himself.

He wasn't that lucky.

Exhaling audibly through his nose, The Major closed his eyes, smiling sadly. "Hello, Commander." He muttered.

"Is it true?!" Tsubaki spat, tightening her grip on her rifle. "Are you two... why?!"

"Is what true?" Asad turned to face the woman, his eyes soft as his pistol hung loosely at his side. He wanted her to say it.

Tsubaki furrowed her brow. "Don't---don't you fucking insult my intelligence, Asad!" she snapped. "You had something good here... why... why are you throwing that away?!"

Asad's expression hardened as the grip on his pistol tightened. "Throwing what away? This was going to happen regardless, I'm just making sure she's not caught in the crossfire." Asad nodded towards Elizabeth. "The man's a fucking sociopath, Tsubaki, I don't doubt Lombardi is much better, but I doubt she'd make me cut up a little girl to 'prove my loyalty!" Asad almost spat the words.

Tsubaki bit her lip and looked to Elizabeth. "I promised you," she whispered, "I swore I would protect you."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth replied. "But you couldn't protect me. Not from Dio. It had to be this way."

"BULLSHIT!"

"It's not too late, Tsubaki. You can come with us," the young noble explained.

Tsubaki shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No," she whimpered, "no, no, no... I made an oath. I have a duty."

"You made an oath to a mad man." Asad said simply. "You think you mean anything to him? You think you're not just another tool to be used and thrown away?" The man chuckled sarcastically, "We're soldiers, we've always been tools, the difference is a good soldier can see which way the wind is blowing and get the fuck off the ship when it starts sinking, especially if the captain is a raving goddamn lunatic."

"DON'T SAY THAT!" Tsubaki roared. "Ju-just stop! He treated us right! We-we had a good thing here, Asad. We did. Both of... both of us..." It took everything she had to fight through the knot in her throat. "I love you, Asad... why would you do this to me? How could you betray me?"

Elizabeth looked to Asad but remained silent. She'd never forgive herself if she made him pull the trigger.

I want to throw up...

Asad paused for a moment. No, that wasn't fair, she didn't get to say something like that and expect him to drop everything.

"I'm not betraying you, Tsutsu." Asad said softly, smiling gently. "Come with us, you don't owe Basilio anything, you've seen what he's capable of. Just come with us." He already knew what her answer would be, but that wouldn't stop him from hoping.

Tsubaki looked frantically between Asad and his charge, desperately wishing a miracle solution would come to her. "N-no," she mumbled, "I can't, I..."

Dio had saved her--given her a life. Given her a purpose. She couldn't throw that away now. She may have loved Asad, but Dio was like a father to her.

And look at how he exploits that fact.

"I--I don't... I don't know---" It was unclear what Tsubaki was about to say, but before she could finish a bang echoed down the elevator shaft behind her, shaking the entire structure slightly.

"----zzzttttt-----Mayday, mayday!----zzzttt-----asilio's helicopter's been sabot----zzzztttt-----house NOW!----zzzztttt-----"

Tsubaki's eyes widened in shock.

Asad slowly moved and stood in front of Elizabeth.

"What's it going to be, Commander?" Asad raised his pistol and set his sights on Tsubaki. He couldn't trust her to not make any brash moves in her current state. "Both me and the kid, we know first hand what kind of 'man' your lord is, come with us."

Asad's eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw. "Or we part ways now and you run back to your master like the good lapdog you are and figure that out for yourself, except when that happens, it'll be too late."

Tsubaki averted her gaze. "I-I should.... I need to go protect him, I---I'm sorry," she whimpered. The Commander lowered her weapon and turned around, sprinting back down the hall towards the elevator shaft. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. She couldn't say goodbye.

It hurt too much.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth whispered to Asad, unsure of what else she could say.

Asad stared after Tsubaki as she hurried away, slowly lowering his weapon as the resolve melted from his face.

"I love you too." He muttered, barely a whisper. A few silent moments passed as Asad gathered his thoughts, his shoulders slumping slightly. He expected more of her, he thought he had finally swayed the woman's thoughts, planted the seed of doubt, maybe that was still the case, it just hadn't had time to bloom yet.

Slowly drawing breath, Asad closed his eyes, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and over the next several minutes, smoked in silence.

Dropping the butt to the ground, Asad slowly exhaled, smoke swirling towards the high ceilings of the foyer. Without looking at Elizabeth, the man quickly turned and began walking quickly down the opposite corridor. "Let's go." He seemed visibly reinvigorated, the power back in his stride as he holstered his sidearm and grabbed the rifle at his side.

 

[Fappy]

Masakado made his way to the elevator, punched in the access code and began ascending to the tower's ground floor. Every move the lumbering synthetic made was so methodical. So... robotic. For those who knew the man before the machine, this honestly wasn't much of a change for him.

He stood there perfectly still. Waiting.

"---zzzzttt----asakado, do you copy? This is---zztt----Command! I repeat,--zzzttt---Tower Command---zzzttt---!"

"I copy you, Tower Command," the cyborg replied in a gravely, metallic voice.

"---zzztttt----ood, identify and clear all hostiles on your way to---zztttttt---hit! They're here! ---zzztt----r the door! Mayday, may-----zzzttttttt----"

The radio went silent.

Objective Unclear. Radio Contact Compromised. Toggle Interpretation Matrix? Y/N?

....

Y - Situation Level Red, Immediate Intervention Required.

Objective: Identify and Eliminate Hostile Forces And...

Interpretation Matrix Working...

Retrieving Orders from Archive...

Revised Objective: "Identify and Eliminate Hostile Forces." "Do Not Allow Harm to Come to Lady Maribel."

Masakado tightened his grip on his katana's hilt. The digital readout on the wall read, "L".

The doors opened.

Spoiler: I am the white void

The swift samurai sprung through the door, his artificial eyes darting this way-and-that, scanning his terrain--collecting data. There were one-hundred-fifty combatants actively engaged on the ground floor as far as he could tell. Rounding a corner, he approached a large group of soldiers from behind, scanning each of their faces as they turned to look at him. It took his cybernetic brain mere moments to process their faces and cross-reference them with the Tower's database.

They were Basilio's.

"Who the fuck is---" before the soldier could finish his statement, let alone raise his weapon, Masakado had already lunged over their group. "Holy shit! Did you see that?!"

Landing in the middle of the no-man's land between the two forces, the samurai continued forward, scanning the other group as he dodged and weaved through a barrage of super-heated plasma and lead. His speed was hard to fathom. By the time he'd reached their position, he'd determined where their loyalty lay.

They were dead men.

Snapping the blade out of its sheath with his thumb, Masakado drew his katana and decapitated two of the soldiers with one fluid motion. The other nine scrambled away, some turning to shoot back. While bullets had little effect on him, plasma could still do damage. But then, the cybernetic swordsman didn't plan on getting hit by either. Following through with the momentum of his previous attack, he dodged another plasma bolt before swinging his blade vertically, splitting a man clean in half from his hip to his shoulder. He lept through the gory mess and cut down two others before leaping into the air to avoid the group's counterattack.

He cleared them easily, landing on the perimeter of their foxhole. From there he moved along the outside of their group, picking them off one-by-one as they scattered. It was a slaughter. Not only was Maskado too fast to get a bead on, most of his foes didn't even know they were dead until he'd already cleaved through them three times. After taking out three men along the perimeter only three others remained. He'd smoked them out of their position, resulting in two of them eating a plasma bolts to the back.

The last remaining soldier hurled a cooked grenade at the swordsman, which detonated the moment it hit the ground. Had it been plasma it may have actually hurt him. Masakado shrugged off the attack with little cosmetic damage to show for it. He turned slowly, locking eyes with soldier. His cold, inhuman gaze sent chills down the man's spine. He'd even pissed himself.

"FUCK YOU, DEMON!" the man screamed as he unloaded his LMG on the cyborg.

Masakado sprung forward with his blade sheathed once more. Bullets whizzed right past him as he weaved in-and-out of the man's barrage and unsheathed his sword just in-time to intercept a bullet before it found its mark in his artificial eye. Masakado's blade sliced clean through the bullet and the man's face, cleaving his head in half.

It was done.

The CO of the Basilio group approached Masakado slowly. He was covered in gore, much like his surroundings. "Uh, are you on our side?" the soldier asked, utterly terrified.

"Where is Lady Maribel?" the warrior asked in an emotionless tone.

The soldier shrugged.

Masakado grunted. "Don't try to keep up," he said before disappearing down the hall.

Contessa's forces on the ground floor were completely exterminated minutes later.

 

[Terratina.]

"If I have to stitch your mouth up, I will. We've got plenty of time."

Another pistol whip to the dome. Lord Talbot hissed with pain, his hands squirmed underneath the bindings, instinctively trying to rub his temples. He was nothing more than an old caged lion, toothless and mangy-maned. Even the poor blanket couldn't save him from the humiliation. Still, unrelenting noble bravado broke through. Just barely.

"Then all the closer I'll be to that pretty face of yours, my dear." He spat.

Astor continued to impassively stand with his back to his father. Couldn't risk any more contact. Though, the ticking time bomb would go off eventually...

Charming" Amy replied sarcastically, before walking over to stand by Jesse, though still keeping a beady eye of Talbot.

"Maybe you wanna step away for a minute..." she whispered "check the entrances or something."

"What do you think I'm doing?" 'Jesse' hastily whispered back, before quickly adding while slightly shuddering, "Don't be too rough, okay? He might grow to enjoy it."

"I could just cut out the middle man and send him to sleep?" Amy suggested, taking her goodnight glove back out of her purse and slipping it on. "Solve all our problems?"

"Fine with me." Astor shrugged.

Holding back a smirk of satisfaction, Amy sauntered back over to the bed.

"We're almost finished here, My Lord." she said. "I hope you had time for a bathroom break. You're going to feel a little tingle, and then we'll be gone by the time you come round..."

"Oh? A good tingle, I hope?" Lord Talbot enquired, leaning right towards Amy with his feet on tiptoes.

Even after being captured, beaten and humiliated, the randy little sod was still pushing his luck. Amy could only sigh and click her tongue.

"You tell me." she replied derisively, as she pressed her palm to the flabby skin beneath his ribcage. Talbot spasmed and made a gargling noise, before keeling over backward onto the bed.

"I am going to need a long shower after today." she complained, grimacing at her own hand after she had touched him.

A sudden and swift knock sounded from the door. "It's me," a voice that sounded like Tallahassee called out.

Amy looked to Jesse, puzzled. The plan didn't say anything about sending anyone back...

"Hey, Tal..." Amy replied as she walked through the suite to the door, taking her purse with her and keeping her glove on. "How's it going over there? Is Sandra okay?"

"Yeah, I reckon she's got the bridge locked down," he said. "Bennie wanted me ta' come back an' collect y'all. Says he don' wanna spread the group too thin an' wants Talbot on the bridge with the rest of the hostages. He didn' radio head 'cause he thinks Vanco's tapped our comms."

'Oh great!' Amy thought, groaning out loud 'I just put the big lump to sleep, and now we have to haul his naked, sweaty arse all the way up to the bridge? Perfect!'

"Okay..." Amy said as she unlatched the door "But you're doing the heavy lifting."

"What does that m---oh," Tal muttered when he spotted Talbot. He stepped into the room and clenched his jaw. "I'll wake 'im up."

Astor was just as puzzled as Amy. This wasn't in the plan, as far as he knew. Still, as a newbie, 'Jesse' was pretty sure it was far from his place to question his superiors. He sighed, "At least let him keep the blanket."

"You were saying about Vanco?" Amy asked, apprehensive "We know he's here then? Has anyone seen him?"

"No," Tal said. "He could be anywhere, that's why we wanna get all the hostages in one place. Don' wanna spread ourselves too thin."

"Okay." Amy said. Gritting her teeth, she stood ready to help get Talbot up to the bridge.

"Hey," a familiar voice suddenly called out on their comms. "This is Tal, y'all copy? Get Talbot ready for the landin'. We're takin' this bird down soon."

The Tallahasseee in the room with them tensed up.

'Jesse' shifted as his face contorted into a mess of confusion as he turned towards the cowboy, "What in the blazes?"

Amy put two and two together very quickly, her mind working overtime to cram as much critical analysis as she could into the moments she had to act. Now was not the time to be stunned.

In a fight, Amy wasn't so bold as to assume she stood a chance against Vanco. In about two seconds from now, both her and Jesse would likely be unconscious, or worse. Despite that, she wasn't afraid...

She'd promised herself along time ago that she'd never cower in fear again.

She couldn't overpower Vanco, but she could warn the others, if she could get a message out in time. Amy had only one tactical advantage... Vanco didn't know about the glove.

As the man turned to face her, she didn't attempt to strike him or shield herself. Instead, she stepped closer, her eyes full of vindictive determination, and grabbed him between his legs with the most viciously tight grip she could muster. If the ball-crushing wasn't painful enough, the electrical current did the trick.

As Vanco was paralysed in front of her for a second, the holographic façade shorting out to reveal his true face Amy screamed into her radio.

"VANCO! HE'S HERE!"

Vanco clenched his jaw, forcing himself to weather the excruciating pain. It didn't take him too long.

He moved quickly, grabbing Amy's wrist and squeezing, relinquishing the radio from her grasp. In the same motion he pulled her closer and buried his elbow into her nose, eliciting a satisfying crunch. Amy hit the ground hard and before she could recover from her dazed state, he drew his pistol, pulled back the slide and pointed it at her head.

The colour drained from Astor's face as Vancho retaliated. The only combat-competent person in the room had just been KOed and was about to die. He had to do something. Talbot's head of security against a kid... There was no chance of victory. Seconds slowed as Astor's fear-frazzled mind tried to come to a decision. Something had to be done.

His thoughts screeched to a halt. There was only one thing to do. 'Jesse' ran and tackled the head of security. He couldn't win the fight but he could at least try and knock the gun away from Amy's head.

Vanco's weapon discharged, buring a bullet in the floor right next to Amy's head. The small chamber amplified the gunshot, violently waking Talbot from his slumber. Jesse had saved Amy but didn't offer enough force to knock Vanco off his feet unfortunately. Grabbing the boy's forearm, he snapped his head backwards, hitting Jesse on the forehead, and threw him over his shoulders and onto the bed. He raised his weapon but couldn't fire without risking Talbot's life.

Astor yelped as he tumbled onto the bed, right in front of the father. Now he was the target. The runaway noble screwed his eyes shut as he awaited death. After a few heartbeats, Astor opened them and turned around, finding his father staring right back at him.

"Yes... yes..." Talbot muttered before almost yelling, "Astor Horatio Catamitus Beauregard Chetwynd-Talbot IV! That's it!"

"Took you long enough, Father." Astor muttered in response.

Talbot cleared his throat, "Vanco, do not shoot. He is family. Now I believe an escape is in order."

Vanco cocked an eyebrow. Just what the fuck was going on here?

He looked back down at Amy, who was beginning to stir. He wasn't sure what she was to the young Lord, so he'd play it safe. Crouching down, he punched Amy across the face, knocking her out cold. She wouldn't be a problem.

"As you wish, my Lord," he said as he reached out to help Talbot off the bed. Astor appeared unarmed. "Will I need to worry about you?"

"N-no sir." Astor managed to sputter out as he pushed himself off the bed, groaning. End of the line.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

"VANCO! HE'S HERE!"

Before the radio cut out, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot made Sandra's blood run cold.

"Boss!" she yelled, trying hard to keep her voice from quivering "We have to go back!"

 

[Daystar Clarion]

"You've gotten all your say." Florian said through tagged breaths, trying to control his heartrate and get ready to do what he had to. But he was still a child yelling at their parent and damn if he wasn't feeling it right now. Whatever he was doing it now.

"You'll get on the mic, and call of your men and then you're coming with me."

"To what?" Vasa taunted him, what do you think is going to happen once you get down there?" Of course all three of them already knew what would happen once one side gave in and they marched down to the ground floor. "You're only fooling yourself, boy. I assume that's why you needed her for this..."

Lilith raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Needed me for what?" The girl shook her head slightly, glancing at Florian, a nervous smile curling her lips.

"Stop trying to drag people into this." Florian snarled. "This is between us now, just us!"

Vasa sighed, shrugging his shoulders back and letting his shoulders slip down until he was holding it in one hand. "And yet you refuse to take part. I shouldn't have to teach you this lesson again, but a father's job is never done."

Florian was getting more on edge, he was far too calm, far too easy going. But of course Vasa could afford to be this way, he didn't have anything left to lose. So he could do things the way he wanted now.

'Thank you for letting me do it on my terms.' Father and son looked at each other, no noise between them but the distant noise of their war. And for a moment it looked as if Vasa's eyes were watering as a sad smile crept onto his face. The second genuine smile Lilith would have seen him make, after the moment he'd seen Florian alive.

["You'll hate me for this. Like the other times, but this is a lesson you need to learn. Some day you'll realise this was done out of care."]

Florian was about to tell him to stop talking nonsense but he'd never get the chance, as Vasa threw his jacket to Lilith and struck the moment she reached out to catch it.

"Luckily you I don't give a shit about." His free hand snatched up the handle of his cane, the one that hid his gun and drew it on the young woman, his old reflexes still razor sharp. Leaving Lilith to stare down the revolver barrel. Maybe it lasted a while for her, for Florian it lasted a split second. And then the gunshot rang out.

Vasa smiled, still holding the gun out at arm's length. He seemed awfully smug. Then he stumbled back, taking a hand away from his chest, his fingers wet with blood. "Huh..." He seemed a little bemused... before he fell backwards. Leaving Florian to look on in disbelief, the gun in his hand was still smoking.

Lilith stood there wide eyed in horror as her life flashed before her eyes, why did she try and catch the jacket? Why?! it was the oldest trick in the book! Hell she'd done it before, but before she even realised her mistake, it was over. Her eyes didn't move from the smoking hole in the old man's chest as he fell backwards for what felt like an eternity.

A few silent moments passed, and she was suddenly reminded that hadn't taken a breath in a while, sharply breathing in as she looked over at Florian, eyes still wide in disbelief. "Florian?" Her voice cracked as her hands began to shake, the jacket falling from her fingers as reality began to hit her like a crawler.

He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. Florian just... he just... he couldn't get believe what he'd just done. How calm his firghtened breathing had become or how steady his hands were. He ran and knelt by his father's side, vasa was still breathing, however poorly, blood was beginning to bubble at the back of his throat.

Florian's shock evaporated in an instant as his eyes began to well up. The two of them whispered to each other, just a few words as neither one was capable of real speech. In their native tongue and in such quiet tones there was no way anyone was getting a good ear of what they were saying. This was private, jsut for them. Vasa seemed something close to happy here as he reached out to cup Florian's face, his voice sounded as reassuring as it could.

With all the strength he had left his placed his hand over Florian's and guided the revolver over his chest. They never broke eye contact. Florian's protests died weakly, he didn't resist. Vasa wrapped his hand around Florian's and forced himself up just long enough to give his boy a kiss on the forehead before falling back, letting himself rest.

They pulled the trigger together.

Florain drew a hand over Vasa's face, closing his eyes and wiping away the blood. Wordlessly he got to his feet and went to the announcment system, picking up the mic.

"This is Florian Bejic. Any man here that swore loyalty to my father, lay down your arms. Your leaders are dead. Your cause is lost. Surrender now and your life will be spared... it's over." His commands given, Florian put down the microphone and looked down at the desk in front of him... and punched it as hard as he fucking could! Florian let out a howl of frustration as he beat the hell of of this inanimate object. He just had to hit something, hurt something.

Llilith watched in silence at silent exchange, arms limp at her sides. This wasn't what was supposed to happen, they were supposed to make up somehow, the old man was supposed to surrender. Not... this.

The girl's eyes lingered on Vasa's body as she began to turn and walk towards Florian, beating his knuckles raw on the desk before him. Slowing her pace as she approached, Lilith raised her hand to Florian's back, retracting her fingers hesitantly for a moment before gently placing her palm against the back of his shoulder. She said nothing as she looked up at his form, shaking in both anger and grief.

Florian's petulant punching came to a pathetic halt as he felt Lilith's hand on his back. He couldn't help the shaking, it only made him feel more pathetic. He turned to face her. She looked so shaken. Florian clenched his hands open and closed, hardly feeling the pain in his knuckles.

"I'm taking him away." He finally managed to croak out.

He spread Vasa's jacket over him, covering his face. As he picked it up two letters fell out, one with his name on it, the other with Erik's. 'Must be why he threw it... he didn't want them to get bloody.' Florian felt sick thinking that. he pocketed the letters and picked Vasa up in his arms, with as much dignity as he could. He felt so light.

Florian left their guns behind and headed to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. He'd have to face them all like this.

A solemn look on her face, Lilith stood next to Florian as they waited for the elevator. Maybe it was good they did this quickly, before it all really had time to settle in. Florian would need her now more than ever.

As the distant hum of the elevator drew closer, Lilith looked at the man from the corner of her eye. "Thank you." She said quietly, her voice soft.

He didn't say anything for a while, just stepped in and rode the elevator down. His arms were getting tired and all he could think was that it shouldn't be this way. After all they'd done they should have been walking away together, heads held high. The family should have been made whole, not this shattered mess. Florian should have been able to look on those wings with pride. They should have been leaving with their pride. Not like this.

'He was right in the end. What would I have done, keep him like some caged fox?'

The doors opened and they made their way out into the aftermath of the conflict. Erik found them soon, his clothes were splattered with ash and blood and he looked down at them with a thousand yard stare. Bit by bit they were joined by others from their group all sporting their own injuries. Out in the courtyard, Conrad was getting Irena into a crawler and screaming at any and all medics to see to her. She was still huddled under the coat and blankets they'd thrown over her.

As more people gathered around them and looked at Florian in the light, corpse in his hands, he paused and looked straight at the assembled crowd.

"I am taking my father! Any man who wants to stop me make himself known so I can kill him now!" He called out in challenge. No one tried to stop him as he loaded Vasa into the back seat of a crawler.

Lilith glanced around at the surprised faces before hurrying after Florian.

 

[Daystar Clarion]

Asad was done with this fucking tower, done with Feroxi, done with everything and everyone in it. The quicker they could get the fuck out the better. Walking with long quick strides, he tightened his fingers around the grip of his rifle.

"Keep up." He muttered behind him to Elizabeth

"Sorry," Liz whispered. She hurried to his side and pursed her lips. "Look, I know now's not a good time, but if you ever want to talk about... just, you know, I'm here for you."

"No offence, kid." Asad's eyes didn't move from the path ahead. "But what the fu..." He caught himself before it went any further. Sighing from his nose, the Major nodded his head a few times. "I know you're trying to help, Elizabeth." He stopped in his tracks, gently grabbing the girls arm as he looked down at her. "This isn't the time for anything like that, later, maybe, but right now it's a distraction that could get both of killed, you got that?" There was almost the hint of a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I'm sorry," she admitted. She held her pistol close to her chest and nodded down the hallway. "We'll make it out of here. We will, and once we do we can girl talk."

Now there was a smile on the man's face. Asad nodded once, ruffling the girl's hair. "Kid, once we're outta here, we'll hit the nearest bar and I'll give you a crash course in guy talk, it's like girl talk, but with more swearing, less emotions, more booze, then more emotions, then questionable food from the side of a truck, then vomiting, then sleep." He tapped Elizabeth on the shoulder as he began moving again. "You know, like the last time you embarrassed yourself." He smirked as he winked at her.

"Guess I'm already an expert then," she quipped with a grin.

Spoiler: Party time

Now on the third floor, they'd managed to avoid contact with the enemy since running into Tsubaki earlier. As they continued forward the sound of battle grew louder and louder. A firefight seemed inevitable at this rate. If there was any benefit to being found out it was that they'd at least know friend from foe. Basilio's men were under orders to shoot on sight.

Asad had told her there was a garage on the second floor and from what Elizabeth could tell they were getting close. Mila might have been dead now, but her plan was still their best shot.

"Hold up." Asad whispered, putting an arm across Elizabeth as they reached a turn in the corridor. He could hear voices, after a few moments he determined they were stationary, he'd just need a few more moments to figure out how many there were.

Elizabeth swallowed hard. "What do we do?" she whispered. "We can't bullshit them. Do we go in shooting?"

Never thought I'd say something like that seriously...


"You don't do anything." Asad grumbled, his ear still to the corner.

Asad clenched his jaw. five, maybe six guys. Knowing the layout of the floors, the corridor they were in led into a small lounge area which they would have to cut through.

After listening in for a few moments, Asad knew they were definitely Basilio soldiers, and he had a pretty good idea of each individual's general location, certainly a margin for error. Could they risk it?

"Yo." one of the soldiers spoke up. "I'm gonna go to the john, hold the fort."

"They said not to travel alone, I'll come with you." Another said.

As two sets of feet began to draw closer, Asad's body tensed, gently lowering his rifle to his side as he pulled out his pistol, this was it! He couldn't have asked for a better moment. The soldiers took a few more steps closer and as they were about to turn the corner Asad was upon them.

Stepping out faster than Elizabeth could have ever expected, Asad kicked a leg from underneath the closest man, knocking his rifle from his hands as he fell to one knee. Before the other man could even react, there was already a bullet in his head. The surprised shouts of the men further into the lounge alerted Asad to the urgency of his next move.

There were seven guys in total, one already dead and another about to become well aquainted with the difference between a rookie and and an elite operative. Grabbing the soldier by the throat, Asad pistol whipped him across the side of the face before turning him around and lurching forward with his new human shield.

"HOLY SHIT!" One soldier cried as it quickly dawned on him that he was the target of the incoming rush, hastily firing off a few clumsy rifle shots wide as Asad went crashing into him, sending the other soldier crashing to the ground along with his shield, which he put a bullet in just as he toppled foward.

Asad was thankful for such close quarters, there wasn't enough breathing room to quickly aim a rifle effectively, let alone by these amateurs.

With a roar, Asad quickly turned from the two soldiers on the ground, almost instantly closing the gap to the next soldier, with just enough time to pull out his knife, he slashed it across the man's throat before he even had time to bring his rifle up. Keeping his momentum, the Major stepped towards another three men, shooting the one furthest away twice in the chest before plunging his knife into the closest. The man in the middle had just enough time to let off a few shots, but not before Asad hastily blocked the shots with the man screaming on the end of his knife.

Quickly wrenching the blade from his shield, he tossed it at the last man, finding itself in his throat.

Elizabeth watched all of this from the corner of the connecting hall. Asad was right to keep her out of this fight. Considering the tight quarters, she'd just get in his way. She was about to call out and ask if the coast was clear when she spotted the lone survivor of Asad's assault roll out from under the weight of his dead comrade. He had his weapon ready and the Major's back was turned.

"Asad!" Elizabeth called out before taking aim with her pistol. The man turned just in time to catch a bullet between the eyes. He was dead before he hit the ground. Liz stood stunned for a moment, reconciling what she'd done in her mind. After banishing the pit in her stomach she approached her protector. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Asad had turned just in time to find himself at the end of a rifle barrel, and just in time to see the wielder's brains explode from the back of his head.

"Wha, What?" Asad shook his head, as Elizabeth began pawing over him, his quickened breath slowing gradually as he blinked a few times. "Kid, you just..." A breathless chuckle escaped his lips as he squatted slightly to get at Elizabeth's eye level. "Good fucking shot, kid!" He holstered his weapons before placing his hands on the girl's shoulders.

Elizabeth averted her gave and blushed wildly. "I, uhhh...." she muttered. He was like a proud father.

It was weird.

"D-don't mention it?" she said. Even she was unsure what context she meant that in. Unfortunately this wasn't a good time for a celebration. Several heavy footsteps sounded from down the hall, right outside the small space they occupied.

"IN THERE!" one voice called out.

Elizabeth panicked. They were cornered. "Wh-what do we do?!" she stammered.

Quickly getting to his feet, Asad pushed the girl behind him before bringing his rifle to bare. "Go! Get moving, down the corridor, I'll be right behind you, GO!" Laying down suppressing fire into the corridor they entered in, Asad began quickly backing out the room before turning and following after Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was terrified, but it didn't mean she had to run screaming for her life. Half turned as she ran, she emptied her clip down the hall. It was hard to tell since Asad was using an automatic weapon, but it looked like she tagged one of their attackers in the throat. Before making it to the safety of connecting hall a bullet whizzed by, grazing her shoulder. She hissed in pain before throwing herself around the corner of the hall. Before checking her wound she quickly reloaded her weapon. Not may clips left to spare.

"Are you okay?!" Asad cried out as he dove into the corner next to her, blind firing his rifle as he kept the incoming soldiers at bay around the bend in the corridor.

"Yeah," she shouted over the gunfire, "just a scratch! Worry more about how you plan to get us out of here!"

Repeatedly glancing at her arm, Asad, was eventually satisfied, it wasn't bleeding enough to be anything serious. "Okay, just keep an eye on it, tell me if it gets worse." Quickly chaging rifle magazines, Asad swore under his breath. He didn't have that much ammo left. "Better make it count." He grumbled, as he prepared to aim out of cover, just as a blood curdling scream echoed down the hallway. "What the...?"

"I advised you to stand down Private Thomas R. Kalligan," Masakado said as he cleaved the rookie in twain. His core programming dictated that he protect the lives of Basilio soldiers, but it was of reletively low priority. When conflicting with a primary directive; a current mission, his programming allow for a... flexible response. If these soldiers continued to attack Lady Maribel he would be inclined to dismember them.

"TAKE HIM DOWN!" a terrified CO commanded. The remaining soldiers turned to fire on the swordsman, but were far too slow.

"So be it."

Blood-curdling screams echoed down the hall, piquing Elizabeth's morbid curiosity. "What the hell's going on down ther..." the young noble's words died in her throat.

It's him.

Elizabeth grabbed Asad's arm. "We need to run. NOW!" she commanded.

Asad's eyes were fixed on the carnage in front of him. Just what the fuck was this... thing?! "I'm inclined to agree..." The Major's words trailed off as he let himself be dragged away by Elizabeth.

Masakado watched through infrared sensors as the duo scrambled down the adjoining hall. He'd made quick work of the squad. In such a tight space they didn't put up much of a fight. He watched the multicolored blobs move further and further away--his cybernetic mind confused as to why they would do such a thing.

The human part of him knew exactly why.

They didn't get very far before the cyborg caught up with them. Before they could even make it halfway down the hall he was already upon them, his weapon sheathed. "Halt!" he commanded. "All hostiles in this sector have been neutralized."


"Elizabeth get behind me." Asad said, pushing the girl. This may have been the first time she had heard genuine terror in the man's voice. "Who... What are you?! Who do you work for?" Was this was of Lombardi's toys?! If so, they may have gotten themselves involved in something far beyond what they had realised.

"Masakado, cybernetic infantry, a division of Basilio R&D," he stated formally, now standing completely still before them. "You are Major Asad Harel, former Samsara, Lady Maribel's protector. We are on the same side. Major Bryan O'Laffertey activated me fifteen minutes ago to protect Lord Basilio's assets. I am also under orders to protect Lady Maribel from any and all harm."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow.

"Do not let any harm come to Lady Maribel."

Dio would regret that command if he lived to see tomorrow.

Masakado's gaze fell upon Elizabeth's wound. "Minor flesh wound," he observed. "Take note to clean it thoroughly once you are safe, Lady Maribel."

"Masakado," she began hesitantly, "we're trying to make it out of the tower. Make it to safety. Can you cover our escape?"

"Yes."

"Well that was simple," Elizabeth said with a nervious chuckle.

Masakado looked down the hall they'd just come from. "The ground floor is secure, I can take you---"

He must not know why Basilio's men are after us...

"No," she interrupted him, "we need to escape through the garage on this floor. Can you take us there?"

"There are still hostile forces in that sector," he replied. If he was capable of a confused tone that would have been the time to use it.

"That's why we have you," she remarked.

Masakado nodded. "Very well," he said.

Asad furrowed his brow as the pair followed after the strange machination of man and metal. "I hope you know what you're doing." The man mumbled, glancing down at Elizabeth, making sure to keep a firm grip on his rifle.

"I'm making it up as I go," Elizabeth whispered back. "Besides, it's not like we have much of a choice."

"My ears are capable of detecting frequencies humans cannot and at a far greater distance and fidelity," the samurai told them. "I can hear you."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. "Makes sense," she muttered nervously. "What, can you see through wall too?"

"Nothing more than six-inches thick."

"Lead the way then, I guess..." Asad chuckled nervously.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Sprout bolted out of the engine room the moment Amy screamed over his comm, without a word to Ruffles.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

His heart was pounding. He was terrified. She could be hurt, maybe even dead. He needed to be there. He needed to be there now!

The young bandit lept into Talbot's chambers with reckless abandon, itching for a fight. It appeared he was too late, however. Vanco moved fast, apparently.

It didn't take him long to find his unconscious lover sprawled out on the floor. Dropping to his knees, he quickly rolled her over--taking her head in his hand--and checked her pulse. She was breathing.

Thank fuck.

"Amy," he whispered, "Amy, are ya' okay? Amy, wake up!"

The first sensations that informed Amy that she was returning to consciousness, was everything being very loud and very bright, the blow to her head had left her too spaced out to feel pain specifically, everything was just... fuzzy, and her mouth tasted like copper.

She'd felt worse, considering.

"Urgh, Axel..." she slurred. "That you?"

"Amy!" was all Sprout could manage before he pulled her into an uncomfortable embrace.

Unfortunately, Sprout's affection jammed Amy's fractured wrist between their two bodies. Pain came back to her with unwelcome clarity.

"OW! OW! Owowowowow!" Was all she could manage

"Shit! Sorry!" Sprout squeaked. "A-are you hurt? What happened here?

"Not too bad." Amy winced. For one thing, the pain had helped her overcome the fuzziness, and she was now beginning to recall why she'd been knocked out.

"Vanco's got Talbot!" she exclaimed "Jesse too. Gotta get up... gimme a..."

As soon as she tried to stand up though, her vision swam and she almost passed out again.

"Okay! Okay, not a good idea!"

Sprout helped her onto the bed, but didn't sit down himself. "W-wait, what?! Jesse? Why the fuck's he got Jesse?!"

Unfortunately, Amy was sure that she couldn't think of a convincing lie right now. Regardless, they didn't have the time.

"Promise... Promise me you won't freak out, okay?" she said.

"I'm already freakin' out here!" Sprout said with a forced laughed.

"Axel!" It was hard for Amy to give him her 'This Is Serious' face when she didn't know which one of him that she was seeing was the real one.

"Amy, the ship's landin' right now. We're outta time, here. Jus' tell me!"

Amy sighed.

"He's his son." she answered, resigned. "'Jesse' is Talbot's son. I don't think Talbot really understands why he's here, but he recognised him and it's the only reason Vanco didn't kill us both."

"Yer shittin' me..." Sprout muttered. "An' he's tryin' ta' take 'im back?!"

"I don't know!" she insisted "Talbot really isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. I don't know if he thinks he's rescuing him, or if Jesse's a hostage, or what."

Sprout clenched his jaw. "An' he jus' went with them?! He didn' try ta' fight back? Was he a mole? or somethin'?!"

"No! I..." Amy furrowed her brow, exasperated. Her head was still pounding. "He saved my life. When he went with them it wasn't like he had a lot of choice."

"He what?!"

Sprout was legitimately surprised. Jesse had bigger balls than he'd ever given the kid credit for. Looking towards the door, Sprout sighed. "Reckon I gotta save 'is ass," he muttered. "You stay here, Amy. Yer in no condition ta' fight."

"Yeah, I think I'm-wait, you're going alone?!" Amy grabbed his arm, briefly forgetting her own wrist was broken, making her withdraw with a hiss of pain.

"Axel, you can't!" she pleaded "Vanco will kill you!"

Sprout cocked an eyebrow. "Even if Jesse's a lil' piece of shit, he's still a Maiden," he said. "We don' abandon ar' own. I'm sorry, but I gotta prince ta' save." He grinned like an idiot, kind of hoping she'd try to stop him. Vanco did sound like a scary mofo, after all.

"Okay, just... follow them, but promise me you'll wait for backup." she said, before using her uninjured hand to grab him and pull him in for a kiss.

Now he really felt like an action hero!

Either this ends with the best blowjob ever or a bullet in the brain.

"Reckon I learned how ta' gamble from the best," Sprout whispered to himself. "Don' worry 'bout me, Amy." he kissed her again. "I gotta job ta' do."

With a cocky wink he got back to his feet and started for the door.

He'd never felt cooler.

====================================================================================================================================

"We have to go back!"

Bennie gestured for Sandra to hold and turned his head to the side. "Marcus, do you have eyes on Talbot?" he asked in a hushed tone. "What the hell's going on down there?"

"Someone--Vanco I guess... he took down Amy," Marcus replied over the comm. "I think she's alive. He's escorting Talbot into the hall--Jesse too."

"Jesse?" Bennie asked, dumbfounded.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Marcus said. "We dropped the ball. We should have---"

Bennie shook his head. "I need constant surveillance on their position," Bennie ordered. "Where are they headed?!"

"The hangar I think."

They were about to touch down. If Vanco moved fast enough he could get a crawler out of there before they were in the sky again. "Shit!" Bennie hissed.

What could they want with Jesse?!

"You think she's alive?!" Sandra yelled down her own radio, distraught and furious. "What the fuck kind of an answer is that!"

One of Talbot's crew on the bridge failed to supress a snigger of amusement at their captor's distress. His snort quickly turned into a scream of pain as Sandra's heel shattered his kneecap, that was muffled when she shoved the barrel of her gun between he's teeth.

"Go on..." Sandra hissed "Give me a fucking reason. What's the matter *****? I thought we were having a giggle here!"

If she'd lost Amy too, so soon after Georgia...

Bennie rushed over to the girl, grabbed her shoulder and tore her away from her victim. "CALM DOWN!" Bennie ordered.

Sandra was about to yell back in his face, but stopped herself just in time. Watery-eyed, she shoved her gun back in her holster with as much attitude as she could.

"With respect, Captain..." Sandra's voice was shaking "Why are we still standing around here?"

"Because these folks can't hold themselves hostage," he told her. "We all have a job to do."

After looking over the man's shattered knee, Tal walked over to the pair of bandits. "I'll handle Vanco and get our boy back," he told Bennie. "We can't leave 'im behind."

"Agreed, but you're no match for Vanco," Bennie explained. "I'll go."

Suddenly Sprout's voice came in over the comm. "I've got a visual on Vanco," he said. "In pursuit!"

Shit!

"Stand down, Axel! Do not engage!"

"Sorry, can' hear you," Sprout lied. "Think the comm's down!"

"DAMMIT!" Bennie swore. "Give him backup, Tal. Sandra, go check on Amy. Bring her here if you can. Gale and I will have to make due by ourselves."

'Finally!' Sandra resisted the urge to say out loud.

"Keep up!" she snapped at Tal, as she punched the console for the bridge door.

They found Amy sitting on the side of Talbot's bed, head bowed. She looked woozy, but alright considering. Before Sandra's exclamation of relief had made it half-way out of her mouth, Amy cut her off.

"I'm fine, really." she told them "But Vanco's taken Jesse and Axel's gone after them by himself. Go after him, make sure they're both alright, please!"

Smiling, Sandra nodded, and bolted back out of the door.

 

[Dogmatic99]

The captains and veterans they'd brought with them did their best to keep order among the troops and the surrendering forces. That part wasn't actually as hard as they expected, whatever bad blood had existed between these two sides on a personal level they were acting as a part of the syndicate now, the family. They could be professional about things right now, it was everyone's only chance at stopping things from descending into total chaos and most were in their right minds enough to not want that to start fresh all over again. And right now Erik was thankful for that because there was no way in hell he was dealing with anyone else right now.

He trudged towards Florian, his hearing was beginning to get less muffled now. His eyes were still stinging like crazy. Erik had been around so much smoke today it was a miracle that he wasn't caked in dust and ash. Disheveled wreck that he was he stood next to Florian and looked down at Vasa's body. He looked disheveled too, most people did after being shot, Erik thought as he looked at the dark splashes of red that pooled around Vasa's chest. His face was still hidden to the world. Florian had laid him out as neatly and tenderly as he could. He was still fussing over him now, smoothing out the crinkles in his shirt just so he didn't have to look Erik in the eye or get in the crawler. He knew what he had to do though and he'd do it... just walk away... just go on auto pilot and do what he had to do.

["Are you alright?"] Erik asked him. A stupid question, he knew, but every other question he could think of felt worse.

Florian visibly tensed up and lowered his eyes even further. ["I... I did it... I killed him."] And he said it. Said it out loud. He didn't know why that mattered so much. Most people say if you say something out loud it makes it more real but Florian was looking down at his work right before him. It wasn't going to get any less real.

It cleared the who's for Erik though. He reached out and put a hand on Florian's shoulder, firmly but gently turning the boy to face him. ["Are you hurt?"] He kept things quick and simple, both for Florian's current state and for his raw throat.

Florian raised his head a little and looked straight ahead into Erik's chest. ["I'll live."] He said grimly, as if he might regret the fact.

Erik knew things would end poorly for someone. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he or his friend might fall here today the moment he'd rallied back at the bar. He pulled Florian close and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Acts of kindness can be harsh things for people on the edge though. With his face hidden away from the world Florian felt himself starting to shake, the beginning of a sob forcing their way from the back of his throat as his arms hung limply at his side. He couldn't, not here. Florian forced his emotions down and pushed himself away from Erik. The man offered no resistance.

["I need to take him away... to see to him- send him home. I wont let them have him, I wont let him get strung up or put in some ditch, I wont!"] He steeled himself, buried the aching heart in his chest and remembered the man he was raised to be. Florian would act and keep moving. There was still so much to do. ["I'm going to burn him, he deserves a vigil."]

["The troops might-"]

["They can look after themselves for a few goddamn hours"] Florian growled through gritted teeth.

'Was what I was going to get at.' Erik sighed internally, knowing better than to push the subject. Florian climbed into the driver's seat and headed out alone, leaving a dusty trail behind him. Erik called his closest men to him and gave them some quick orders. Most had been around for the aftermath for the first time they'd stormed the tower, they knew the drill, some of the few people who did. For the rest he'd have to trust their initiative. He did the rounds, talked to some people, Irena was stable and in no mood to talk to him. He couldn't blame her. Erik'd pay for this later and he'd have it all coming.

It wasn't long before he commandeered his own crawler. He put one foot up on the vehicle and seeing Lilith had been left behind he called out to her. "You are coming right?" He sounded calmer than he had any right to be in this situation. It was probably because he was so damn tired. "Come on. No one's getting left behind." He waited until she got in before the two of them set off, followed by a couple other crawlers.

Florian was driving slower than expected and with limited working roads it was easy to catch up to him. Erik gave his crawler some space as their group drove on behind him, a ragged and tattered funeral procession.
=================
An involuntary noise of disgust leaped out of Gale's mouth as she heard the poor bastard's knee shatter under Sandra's foot. How did she even have the strength to do that? the girl was built like a string bean! Gale stifled the nose as best she could but it sure wouldn't stop her stomach churning. Were those someone's teeth scattered across the ground too, when did that happen? They were supposed to take these people prisoner not cripple them all. Or was that just how business was done? This was Gale's first real job after all, it could have been for all she knew. The only other gig she'd had with the maiden's so far was the weapon pickup... which had lead to Axel beating a man bloody and talking about how he liked watching people die.

'Oh god what have I gotten myself into?'

At least Bennie was keeping a level head. "Gale and I will have to make due by ourselves." Aw crap.

Well she wasn't about to back down now. Doing that'd probably get her thrown out a window or something, besides, her best chance at getting through this mess was probably by sticking to Bennie's side. So Gale followed after him without a word, her hands sweating as she checked her weapons one last time.

 

[The Funslinger]

Spoiler: music

Bryan stood rooted to the spot as the strange metal man strode past him. He had the feeling as though he was going to live to regret his actions in this room quite a lot. He felt as though he had aided and abetted some kind of violation of nature. Admittedly there wasn't any nature to speak of on the planet, but still.

Then a thought hit him. Whatever that thing was, it had once been a man. And that he wielded a sword was oddly particular. If this was Dio's creation, that meant he had gone to great lengths to find a skilled swordsman for the procedure, surely. Well that was fucking bullshit, wasn't it? Bryan was right there. Not that he'd have ever chosen to undergo something like that, but it still stung on principle.

"Don't matter who they found, if I'd had a crack at him, I'da wrecked his shit," Bryan muttered, and activated his radio. "Hey Dappy, that crime against all that's feckin' holy you wanted's been set loose."

The was a long silence before Bryan's radio came alive. "Copy that, Major," the officer replied. After providing Bryan with directions to his next objective there was another pause, this one not quite as brief. "You will be going to the Cook's holding cell. You are to remain there on standby until Lord Basilio calls you. You are not to engage with the prisoner in anyway, do you understand?"

"Aye, simple enough," Bryan replied. Turning and exiting the lab, he began picking his path down the corridor, he paused at a door with some scientist's name on it that he didn't bother reading.

The instructions Dapper had given him made it sound like he was going to be waiting for a while. The Cook wasn't going anywhere, so surely that meant there'd be time to kill. A few minutes, at least.

Approaching the office door, he stooped to get a better look at the security code box on the wall by the door's side.

An old hand at robbing nobles, Bryan was used to seeing security systems like these. This one might be a little more hardcore, but it was the same basic premise.

Using his bootknife as an improvised screwdriver and prybar, he began opening up the box's casing. Soon, he was looking at the mess of wires inside. Reaching in, he found the wires he was looking for, and went to work.

By a stroke of luck, his first attempt worked. It was a technician's trick that was implemented in a surprising number of different makes of security box, where in two particular wires could be switched and then switched back. Security firms liked it because when their technicians got a call out from someone who had idiotically forgotten their password, or 'broke' it, the technician could bleed the hourly rate a little before fixing the problem in the space of two minutes. Uncle Beard had claimed that'd been one of his ideas.

Jabbing in four zeros, Bryan opened the door. Pausing long enough to make the new code a random sequence to cover his tracks. 'Broken'.

The office was cosy, but there was stuff everywhere. Bryan's eyes were drawn to the filing cabinet by the desk. He thought he'd have to pick the lock, and that would have taken too long. He did actually need to get to the Cook's cell. But fortunately, whoever used this office hadn't locked it up, and to Bryan's surprise, it pulled smoothly open when he tested it.

Flicking through the names on the files, he cursed at the strange codenames the projects had. If there was anything about freaky robot men in here, it'd take him too long to find out.

Closing the cabinet, he looked around for anything that wouldn't make this break in a total waste. There was a lab coat slung over the back of the desk chair. Rifling through the pockets, he found only a hip flask in the inside one. Unscrewing the cap, he sniffed it and winced. This wasn't even alcohol. It was... embalming fluid. Fucking weird.

Replacing the flask, he turned and noticed something on the desk, next to the computer's keyboard.

An I.D. keycard. This guy must be one forgetful bastard. Bryan pocketed it, and headed for the door.

Eventually, he found Cranston's cell, and entered.

The small room was shrouded in darkness, with but a small overhead light shining down on the figure below. Cranson sat slumped over in a chair with a series of tubes running all over him, connecting his frail form to several machines placed around the room. He didn't even look alive save for the subtle rise and fall of his disfigured chest. If he sensed Bryan's precense in the room he was doing a good job hiding it.

Then again, that may not have been by choice.

Bryan had pulled out one of his swords before he entered. He had no idea what kind of condition the old man would be in, and for all Bryan knew, he was lively. If that were the case, Bryan wasn't sure that even being chained to the wall would hold that man for long.

So if he made an attempt, Bryan could use the reinforced door as a shield, and if the old man tried to force through, he'd run himself onto Bryan's sword. Legionary tactics.

As soon as he saw what lay on the other side, all of that drained from his mind. The sword spilled from his grip and clattered deafeningly on the floor. Bryan didn't hear it.

"Wha..."

His thumb flew to his radio, oaths flying to his tongue. But he stayed his hand inches from the earpiece. If he questioned this, if he made known the profound sense of outrage and disgust at what was in front of him, at best, they'd shrug him off with bullshit and rhetoric, or worst, kill him. And he was far too angry to go down easily.

"Is that you, Dr. Pym?" the old man croaked, his voice hardly a whisper.

It took Bryan a moment to find his voice.

"...Not quite, mate." He sounded like something fundamental inside him had broken. The bullet he'd planted in Cranston's leg seemed to have reappeared in Bryan's throat.

Cranston's head remained bowed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, as if he knew who it was just by the sound of his voice.

"Orders," Bryan replied, but the sound of it was too much. "Dammit!" he yelled, savagely beating the wall. "Fuck, fuck FUCK!"

"The compound's under attack," he said in an uncharacteristic monotone. "Bunch o' new recruits were imposters. They started takin' out the command structure. They nearly got me and Jun during an inspection. Seein' as Jun's wrists are still in casts, I reckon if you'd left me in much worse condition, we wouldn't o' made it outta there. So uh... y'know... thanks fer not double tappin'."

Cranston almost chuckled. "Seems I've grown too soft," he remarked. "Pulled my punches on your CO too." Though his voice was weak he was surprisingly articulate.

While Cranston was saying this, Bryan had picked up his fallen sword and sheathed it, locking it into its shared scabbard with a click.

Dragging a chair out of a dark corner of the room, he sat reversed on it with the chairback between his legs, so as not to disturb the swords on his back.

"Yeah..." he forced a laugh. "Thanks fer that too."

After that, he wasn't really sure what to say, so he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. He felt a powerful urge to spite the order not to engage with Cranston as much as he could.

"My uncle told me about you when I were a kid," he said. "Dunno if you know him. Big beard, voice like sandpaper. He said ya were the most hardcore son of a ***** on the Rock."

"Mostly just a 'son of a *****', I reckon," Cranston chuckled, followed by a violent coughing fit. "At the end of the day I'm just another killer, son. Not really something to take pride in."

Bryan shrugged. "Aptitude's aptitude, me mam always said. Or she would if she knew what three syllable words were. I were a house breaker an' a pick pocket before I were feckin' gladiator." He produced a hipflask and took a swig. "'s important to take pride in your work, else ya just end up doin' it half arsed."

Cranston let out a high-pitched groan. "Yeah, well I suppose I felt that way once," he said. "Not anymore though. I take pride in... other things these days. In other people. It's all I really have left in this world."

"Well unless I'm adding two and two and getting thirty seven, I'd say whoever's yours up there is giving ya plenty reason to be proud, mate," Bryan replied.

"Which brings us to the nub o' the matter to my way o' seeing." Bryan gestured at the mess of life support machinery, then at the lab at large and finally at the ceiling, indicating the conflict above their heads.

"Feels like I've been ignorant a long time. So before whatever happens, happens, and I get asked to do what I imagine I'm here to do, I want ya to explain all this to me."

Bryan shook his head. "I wish I had an answer for you," he croaked. "Dr. Pym was never explicit in his intentions, but I know he was trying to brainwash me. Not in the traditional sense, but by using machines... trying to override my free will with brute force. Hasn't been working out for him." His voice was weak, but there was a small degree of pride in it.

"Well I reckon he found someone it did work on," Bryan said, and he explained briefly about what he'd seen of Masakado. "They ain't payin' me enough far this."

"You could always just quit," the old assassin offered. "You may not even have an employer by the end of the night."

"Always a possibility," Bryan replied. "Except it ain't about me anymore. I got someone I'm lookin' out for."

"We've all got one of those."

"Then you know why I'm ridin' this out."

Cranston considered his words for a long moment before replying. "Do you think she's up there right now?" he asked. "The woman I would die for. Is she what this is all about?"

"I reckon she's up there," Bryan replied. "As fer what your lass figures in all this, I ain't the faintest feckin' clue."

"I don't imagine she does either," Cranston muttered. Most of the pain was dulled thanks to his fried nerve endings, but all this talking had drained him immensly. He didn't know why he'd struggled for so long to keep his own mind. Perhaps it was for this night. For this moment.

"Don't blame yourself for your role in this," he told the soldier. "You'll be showing me a mercy."

"Yeah, that's a bit self evident,mate," Bryan replied glibly. "Don't make it any easier though. Still, I'm meant to stand on ceremony, so uh... I guess I gotta keep you waitin' fer a bit."

"Major O'Lafferty, do you copy? This is your Lord speaking. Are you in position? Over."

"Then again," Bryan muttered. "Big man himself." In spite of all the bravado, a faint chill was still working its way down his spine. Sighing, he thumbed his radio.

"Aye, I'm with the old man now..." he hesitated, with disgust contorting his features. Bryan was a man who loathed authority at the best of times.Growing up, he'd ditched school, self-taught, actively burgled, stolen, and mugged his way through childhood and adolescence. It was a mark of his feelings for Tsubaki that he let her assert any authority over him. Even when Asad seconded for her, Bryan hadn't so much obeyed his orders as considered his suggestions. He had been reported for so many cases of refusing to use rank honorific that eventually, they'd stopped trying. The fact that it was now Dio, someone he now realized he'd been nurturing a soft hatred for even before now, made it almost physically painful.

And Bryan would break before he'd bend. If nothing else, the old man had set the bar pretty fucking high on that one. "...over."

 

[Daystar Clarion]

Lilith sat in silence, cheek resting on her fist as she stared out the passenger seat window, her eyes occasionally drifting to Florian's crawler. With her free hand, the girl reached into her pocket, and raised a cigarette packet to her lips. Grabbing one with her teeth, she retrieved her lighter and took a long drag as the cigarette ignited.

They had won, they had liberated the tower, by all rights she should be happy, but she was more miserable than before, but no matter how bad she felt, that would be nothing compared to what Florian was going through right now. He needed his space right now, he needed to do this alone, and when he needed her, if he needed her, Lilith would be there in whatever capacity he wanted.

Part of her couldn't help but think it was her fault Florian had to put the old man in the ground, if she hadn't fell for that stupid trick, things might have been different.

'You can't blame yourself for that, neither of you expected the old man to put up a fight.'

Turning to look at Erik, Lilith smiled sadly. "How you holding up, big guy?"

 

[Dogmatic99]

Erik had driven on in silence, unsure of what to say or do, his eyes fixed forward. He knew he should hang back and give the boy space. Whatever he was going through right now it would be dwarfed by however Florian was tearing himself up right now, that seemed to be what he did these days from how Erik interpenetrated things. Blame himself for everything and feed on his own guilt. Something Erik could never truly understand. He only had a handful of things in his life he could 'blame' himself for, to really regret. The rest were just things, experiences, maybe they didn't work out the way he wanted but he could move past them and keep going forward. This was one of those.

It was hard, sure. He and Vasa had been through so much together how could he not feel some kind of pain at this? But he'd been hurting for a long time, the initial shock and turned into a dull ache as the endless fights dragged on, as he lost Florian, Petrov, Anna and had watched the man Vasa had once been slowly disappear before his eyes. His friend had burned their bridge a long time ago, Erik had just been too weak then to admit it. But now he'd almost lost the boy all over again and watched Irena brutalized before his eyes. They'd saved her though, by the skin of her teeth. And they'd save him too. Erik had his people back. He had something to fight for in earnest again, he would be strong again, he would endure this and find a way to save them from whatever would follow here. Somehow.

"How you holding up, big guy?"

"He was my best friend." Erik sighed. He needed to say that, he didn't want to forget it no matter what had passed between them. "And then he threatened to kill me and people I love and now he is dead. It's a busy day." He shrugged wearily before looking side on at Lilith. "Are you okay?"

He resisted asking how it happened for now at least.

 

[Dogmatic99]

"Are you okay?"

Lilith looked forward, smoke crawling from her mouth. She suddenly looked very tired.

"I'll be fine." She said simply, closing her eyes for a moment as she took a long drag. "It doesn't matter how we feel, not right now, all that matters is that we take care of him."

Erik could lean back a little easier in his seat at that. 'Such a nice girl when she's not putting bullets in faces, that's what you want, probably.' The boy had done well for himself with this one. Whether they'd outlast what had happened today remained to be seen though.

Erik's thoughts didn't stay on romance for long. With his eyes still being left to linger on the crawler ahead of them, trying not to obsess on the contents of the back seat. He couldn't resist asking anymore.

"How did it happen?"

For a long time Lilith didn't say anything, merely stared at the ceiling of the crawler.

"Vasa tossed his coat to me, and as I went to catch it, he drew his gun on me." She looked at Erik from the corner of her eye, cigarette hanging loosely from her lips. "Florian didn't let him fire."

"Damn." Erik laughed bitterly. "And here I hope you did it." But that would have been too easy, well, easier than this.

The coat trick though, really? That was cheap, Vas, that was just awful. He was supposed to be better than that, more dignified. Better to but the gun to yourself than to go out like some hustling punk. Though Erik didn't have to search himself deeply to know he'd have fought tooth and nail in the same situation.

"They were always fast, those two." He mused absentmindedly. He wasn't coping well with this aweful quiet, Erik was the sort that needed some kind of noise at the best of times as it was. "I gotta be honest... I don't know how we're getting out of this one." He shrugged.

"At least if I had done it he'd have someone to blame." Lilith sighed. "Can't say I'd like the idea of being that one girl who shot her boyfriend's dad though." She let a small chuckle escape her lips.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing, I just..." Lilith bit her bottom lip. "I don't know how to deal with something like this. I just want to be around for him, even if we're not doing anything, just... just so he's not alone. Which I know he wants to be, I won't be surprised if he disappears for a few days."

"Yes he does that." Erik added glibly. "Fuck that... he doesn't have to stay here but I am keeping an eye on him. I am not losing where he is." He wasn't letting another one get away, not again. "We'll do better this time." Erik wasn't about to let history repeat itself.

"He has to be fine." Erik muttered, realising just how childish he sounded. "Too much is falling apart, he has to be okay." He looked around them at the remains of the ravaged city. There wasn't any chaos like there was last time, not yet at least. It was like Frostfall itself wasn't sure what to do. There was one hell of a Vacuum left in Vasa's wake and Erik was damned if he knew what could fill it.
============================================================

Once Sandra and Tallahassee were gone, Bennie turned his attention towards Gale. "We'll be touching down soon," he told her. "We're going to have to get these folks to the hangar, but I want to wait until this Vanco mess is resolved. In the meantime start prepping them for departure. Make sure their hands are zip-tied and no one has anything on them they could use to hurt us. I'll keep an eye on the room and continue runnin' this mess from the navigation terminal."

"Right." Gale nodded, doing a poor job of hiding the anxiousness that was coming all over her. This whole thing was spiraling out of control and all thanks to one guy.

Well, more than that, but that one guy was apparently enough to send everybody running off in their own directions doing whatever like a bunch of raging teenagers. Granted, most of them were one way or another. And now Gale found herself going over their hostages and rifling through their clothes with rough abandon. Maybe she should have just stuck to picking pockets as her big claim to criminal fame.

"I think we're... yeah, all clear over here." She called over to the chief once she'd seen to the last of them, doing her best to prop up Sandra's victim in the least agonizing way possible. She couldn't take her eyes off him, he'd gone so pale.

"Good work, Gale," Bennie told her. He'd been busy coordinating things with Marcus over their comms, but managed to supervise the gypsy all the while. She was a bit antsy, but she had the makings of a career criminal for sure. He grinned at her. "You're a natural at pushing people around, you know that?"

"S'all I ever did back home." She tried to joke, a little quiver sneaking into her voice as Gale fought off the nervous shivers. "When we get Jesse back he's gunna have hell to pay." She joined her captain back at the console, feeling a little safer for being near someone who actually had a calm head and knew what they were doing. Still her eyes kept wandering back to the freshly crippled hostage as he gritted his teeth and groaned through a clenched jaw. "I Think that guy's gunna die." The words just slipped out, barely a whisper.

Bennie glanced at the man and pursed his lips. "He may if we don't get moving soon," he admitted. After a brief moment of consideration, Bennie sighed and cast his gaze across the room. "Anyone here a medic?"

There was no response.

"I SAID, ARE ANY OF Y'ALL A GODDAMN MEDIC?!" he shouted, slamming his fist on a nearby console.

One man raised his hand. "I--I have some training," one of the techs said on the other side of the room. He was scared out of his wits.

"Untie him," Bennie ordered. "Keep an eye on him. He tries anything funny... shoot to kill." He looked at the rest of the room. "They need to know we ain't fuckin' around."

Gale nodded firmly, some of the vim and pep coming back into her step as she scrambled to untie the first aider. It was a good thing they were so terrified, her gun waving had lost a lot of its threat as she ushered him on towards his patient. She even offered the guy the brightly coloured bandanna of gold and purple swirls she had on. "Here, in case you need something to tie his leg or bite down on or whatever." With what little teeth he had left anyway. All the while she did her best to sound stern and unconcerned.

With that matter in hand Gale could feel some of her confidence coming back to her and the fires for whatever fight was to come burning a little bit hotter. Not that she knew what they could do to help shut away up here on the bridge. Until then she just kept her gun aimed out over the room, slinging her rifle over her back and swapping it for the pistol she'd been given. It was pretty cramped in here after all.

 

[Fappy]

Asad was getting first hand experience in what it mean to be obsolete. As he lay down covering fire that he wasn't sure Masakado even needed, the man had a quiet existential crisis as the metal warrior sliced his way through Basilio's men like they were nothing.

"Elizabeth." Asad grunted as he let loose a barrage of fire. "Check the crawlers, see if you can find a working one."

Despite the young noble's fear, she gave Asad a curious grin. "Make myself useful, you mean," Elizabeth corrected him. She was finding it difficult not steal a glimpse of the cyborg from behind the cement column they were using as cover. To say he was a "piece of work" would be a bit too on-the-nose, even for Liz.

After reloading her pistol, Elizabeth checked her reserves: two more fresh clips. Asad had prepared her for the long haul, thankfully. "Okay, you'll cover me, right?" she asked in as tough a tone as she could manage.

Asad chuckled. "Make myself useful you mean?" Neither of them appeared to be the focus of any other soldier in the hangar. They were all too busy dying or running away.

"Right," Elizabeth agreed in a less confident tone. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes.

Three, two....one!

Spoiler: Liz tapping into her inner SSJ

As soon as she hopped out from behind the column Asad had her back, laying cover fire down on a pocket of hostiles who hadn't tasted Masakado's blade yet. Contessa and Dio's forces were still clashing, but the swordsman didn't appear to care. As far as he was concerned both sides meant to harm the young lady. Elizabeth couldn't really complain, as the chaos made her job that much easier.

"Easier" is a reletive term, however.

Elizabeth kept her head low as she passed behind a row of crawlers lining the wall. Just about every one of them was either half-melted or sporting a full set of flat tires. A few stray bullets pinged the vehicles as she inspected them, but none came too close to hitting her.

"FREEZE!" someone suddenly yelled from behind her.

SHIT!

Elizabeth did as instructed. She didn't even turn her head. "It's her!" another voice said. "Just shoot her!" She was too far for Asad to save her now. Maybe he could take one of them down, but not before the other took her out. She had to do something.

Hopefully they couldn't see the pistol she was concealing in her jacket.

Elizabeth turned her head and squeezed off three rounds which pierced straight through her jacket and hit the wall behind her. The men moved to evade the attack, buying her enough time to leap behind a nearby crawler. "WHERE'S THAT COVERFIRE?!" she shouted over the violence as the two men moved to get a better angle on her.

"One job Asad, one goddman job." The Major gritted his teeth as he moved to protect the girl. Passing a few crawlers before the attacking soldiers noticed his approach, Asad down behind the closest vehicle as a hail of bullets hit the crawler. "I'd hurry up and leave, you two!" Asad moved around his cover until he was in front of the bonnet before leaping up to give some cover fire so Elizabeth could haul her ass out of there. "You don't want the big guy over there noticing you try to hurt the little lady!"

"FUCK OFF, TRAITOR!" one of them shouted as he rose out of cover to fire at Asad.

The other soldier ignored the Major and pursued his prey. Crouching low against the back of the crawler, he let out one anxious breath before turning the corner, ready to plaster the girl's brains against the side of the vehicle.

She wasn't there.

Excruciating pain shot through his leg as Elizabeth buried two bullets into his ankle from underneath the crawler. Buckling under his own weight, the soldier flopped onto his back, screaming in agony. She blasted a third hole through his skull before rolling out from under the crawler.

The death of his comrade distracted the soldier for just a moment, but enough that Asad could place a shot into his now exposed shoulder. Hearing the man's rifle clatter to the ground, Asad quickly slid across the bonnet of the crawler, bashing the soldier round the head with the butt of his rifle before grabbing him by the throat and pinning him agains the wall. "You think I'm a traitor?" The Major seethed through gritted teeth as he tightened his grip, using his free hand to knock the away the knife the man was fumbling for at his belt. "You're right, I am." Their faces were inches apart now. "But listen very carefully, because here's the important part." His voice was a whisper now. "When these walls come down, as the palaces burn, and all the so called Ladies and Lords of this place are on their knees, who do you think it will be standing over them?" The soldier looked at Asad, his eyes wide with fear as they glanced at Elizabeth for a brief moment.

"Clever boy." Asad smirked as he kneed the soldier hard in the gut, as he buckled forward, Asad released his grip before grabbing the front of the soldiers face and slamming the back of his head against the wall, knocking him out.

Elizabeth stared wide-eyed at Asad as he put the man into a coma. "Glad I'm not that guy," she muttered. Before Asad to reply lead and plasma began raining down on their position. "THIS WAY!" The young girl shouted to Asad. Her survival instincts kicked in, and without even thinking about it she guided the Major further down the line of crawlers--only stopping every now and then to fire back at their assailants.

As they got closer to the back wall, a group of soldiers that had managed to break away from Masakado closed in on their flank. "Cover me, I think we've got a winner!" she ordered after spotting a mostly intact crawler.

"Do you know how to drive?" Asad grunted as he leapt into the passenger seat and began laying down suppressing fire."

Elizabeth had popped off a few shots at their uninvited guests before plopping into the driver's seat. "I've been in this exact same position before, believe it or not," she replied. "Twice." She ran her hands over the controls, making sure nothing was horribly broken before turning over the engine. The vehicle roared to life, muffling the sound of gunfire momentarily. "What even is my life right now? I swear, I can't go a week without a car chase or shoot out! Is this what it's like for you? Just constant chaos and explosions?!"

"Not all the time!" Asad shouted between bursts. "There aren't explosions in a bar fight!" The Major hunkered down in his seat as Elizabeth began to move the crawler. "Most of the time anyway!"

"A typical bar scene shouldn't have fights, much less explosions!" Elizabeth shouted as she whipped the crawler out of its parking space. The back tires rolled up onto a mound of rubble, forcing her to peel out for a good three seconds before they were free.

As they passed by the second row of crawlers a large battle came into view. "Shit, there are enemies everywhere!" Liz remarked before slamming her foot down on the gas. Masakado was in the center of it all, but despite his presence there were still plenty of soldiers firing at them.

"Just drive!" Asad snapped, neutralizing any immediate threat as they moved through the hangar. "He can take care if himself, the less heat on us the better!"

"Who said I was worrying about him?!" the girl replied as they barreled past two wrecked crawlers, straight through the enemy line. Elizabeth ducked low as their vehicle was covered in gunfire from all sides. Thankfully Basilio crawlers were armored, otherwise this would have been one brief escape.

Masakado spotted them as they were closing in on the exit. It was time to move. He caught up with them with little effort, cutting through the enemies that survived Asad's counterattack. He was running alongside their crawler now, cutting down anyone he encountered.

Elizabeth was too focused on the path ahead to look over at him, but she knew what he was up to. "Can I keep him?!" she asked Asad.

"What would your mother think if I let you keep a cybernetic killing machine? You don't even know how to feed him!" Asad glanced over at the metal man, a ponderous expression on his face. "Hell, I don't know what we'd feed him." The Major crossed his arms over his chest. "He'd get oil everywhere, and how are you going to explain to Timmy's Mom and Dad that their son has been eviscerated, hm?"

"More shooty, less banter!"

Spoiler: Zoomzoom

Masakado ran ahead to take out a squad barring Elizabeth's path. He moved through their numbers like a steel hurricane, painting the entire area in a deep crimson. Elizabeth couldn't pull her eyes away from the grotesque sight. Was there even a hint of Masakado's humanity left within?

"OH SHIT!" Elizabeth screamed when one of the soldiers fleeing the bloodbath staggered into her path. There wasn't enough time to turn. The soldier made eye contact with Elizabeth right before getting crushed by the front of the crawler. He was thrown up, over the hood, and rolled over the open canopy. Elizabeth nearly bashed her head against the steering wheel from the impact. "Is he dead?!" She asked Asad.

Asad glanced back as the soldier sprawled onto the road. "He's gonna wake up with the biggest headache if he's not." The Major chuckled, placing a hand on the wheel he calmed the girl's shakey driving. "You're doing great, kid, we're almost out of here."

Elizabeth gripped the steering wheel with renewed determination and barrelled through the enemy line. "HOLD ON, ASAD!" she squeeled. The sides of the crawler slammed up against Basilio's men as she cut through their position, scattering their broken bodies across the parking deck. They flew a good three feet off the ground--out of the garage, before crashing down hard. The crawler's suspension would survive much more abuse, much less its armor plating.

The young noble spotted Masakado in the reflection of her rearview mirror. He weas simply standing their in the garage, watching her leave.

He'd done all he could.

They were almost home free now. "ASAD, I'M GONNA RAM THE FENCE!" she shouted as she steered the vehicle towards the checkpoint. The soldiers stationed there were already shooting at them.

"Getting real tired of people shooting at me." Asad grunted with exasperation as he leaned over the back of his chair, flipping up the back seat of the crawler to reveal a cache of weapons. "Always thought have exlosives under the seat was a bad idea." The man chuckled as he sat back in his seat, preparing the RPG he had grabbed. "Doesn't seem like such a bad idea now." Leaning over the side of the crawler, the Major carefully aimed. "Keep her steady, steaaaaady." After a few moments he let loose the rocket.

Elizabeth nearly pissed her pants. The rocket detonated inside the guard post, sending burning bodies flying in all directions while rocking the entire area. She hadn't anticipated such... intensity. "I don't think I'll ever get used to explosions," she grumbled.

After driving through the ruined checkpoint it was smooth sailing until they reached the parameter of the dome itself. Everything was locked down. It was unlikely anyone here knew what was going on, but they could never be too careful. Elizabeth slowed the crawler and looked to Asad, "Think they'll let us through if you just flash your badge or whatever?"

Asad thought for a moment, scratching his stubble. "Nope!" He said cheerily as pulled the slide on his pistol. They had come this far, he wasn't leaving anything to chance.

"So... should we come up with a plan or... guns blazing?"

"Plans take time." The Major grabbed a few more bits and pieces from the cache behind him. "Time is something we don't have." Plopping back in his seat, his breath a little heavy, Asad lit up a cigarette. "Plus, I really, really want a drink."

Elizabeth continued to watch the gate as Asad got prepared. She didn't like their chances. There were a lot of soldiers. Plus, they'd need to somehow get the gate opened.

"Hey look!" Elizabeth chirped, pointing ahead. "They're opening the gate. Reinforcements, maybe?"

This was their chance.

Asad narrowed his eyes. "Maybe, slow it down, take it nice and steady, and put this on." Asad leaned forward, quickly removing his jacket and handing it to Elizabeth. "Your clothes are a giveaway, so just take it nice and slow, first hint of trouble and you floor it, understand?"

Elizabeth nodded firmly. "Copy that, Major," she joked. "No, but seriously, I'm ready." The trepid noble allowed herself one nervious breath before she began her approach. Her face was covered in blood and soot, and with Asad's jacket her disguise should be convincing enough.

A small convoy was passing through the gate now. None of the vehicles had seen combat from the looks of it. When they arrived at the checkpoint a soldier stopped them and walked over to driverside window... or what was left of the window. Now that they were closer, Elizabeth noticed how on-edge all the soldiers seemed. Though his weapon was lowered, the soldier had his finger on the trigger. "What's this about?" the soldier asked, looking at the busted-up crawler.

"Escorting a VIP," Elizabeth suddenly blurted without even thinking. She gave Asad a nervious glance, as if begging for help, but quickly realized there was nothing he could do to help her. "I, uhhh..."

"I didn't hear anything about that," the soldier said. "And what the hell happened to your---"

"Please, we're in a hurry!" she interrupted. "This is Romeo Thomas Tigereye, the heir to the Tigereye dynasty and a close friend of Lord Basilio! I received my orders directly from him, and he will be greatly displeased if he hears we were held up!"

The soldier blinked stupidly. "I, uhhh... we should call it in at least. I can't just---"

"Communications are being jammed, or have you not noticed?!" Elizabeth interrupted again. "Please, look at you! None of you even have a clue what kind of hell we've been through! You've just been standing around here with your dicks in your hands while Lord Basilio's tower burns! Now please get the fuck out of my way, or I'll make you!"

"Ya-ya-yes ma'am!" the soldier yelped before turning to his comrade and signaling for him to let them through. Elizabeth gave the man a swift nod before hitting the gas.

Once they were halfway down the tunnel--well out of sight of the soldiers--Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh God," she wheezed. "I nearly pissed myself again back there!"

Asad chuckled, arms across his chest as he settled back in his seat. "Smooth, kid, good job, although I don't that have worked on someone less green." Elizabeth gave him a perplexed look. "'Heir to the Tigereye dynasty'?" Asad smirked. "The Tigereyes are like the whitest noble family on the Rock."

"He doesn't know that," Elizabeth replied with a chuckle. "Low-born plebs, all of you!"

It was good to laugh again.

Once they were outside the parameter of the city, they switched positions. They'd hadn't quite figured out where they were going yet, but Asad had a better sense of direction than she did. Plus, she was completely bushed. Elizabeth watched the city shrink on the horizon as they drove further and further away.

Could it be? Was she really, truly free now? Could she finally just... let go?

Out of seemingly nowhere the girl slammed the back of her head against her seat and began laughing hysterically, tears streaming from her eyes. "It's over!" she howled through her breathing mask. "It's finally fucking over! This fucking nightmare... I---Jesus..." She turned and grabbed Asad's arm, burying her head into his shoulder. "Thank you, Asad. You saved me... thank you so much..."

Asad smiled, his eyes still on the ash ahead. He didn't think it would make much of difference, being out of the dome, cutting ties with everyone. A few days before the attack, he had called his dad. Told him everything, he left out some of the more gruesome details. They had left for another dome, didn't take much persuading, Asad knew his dad understood that any investigation into he betrayal would inevitably land on their door step, and things may have turned out less than amicable.

They were good people, they didn't deserve to get caught up in this. Asad just helped them retire a few years earlier than expected, getting them to take the significant amount of carbon he offered was the real struggle.

For the first time in a long while, Asad's mind felt clear. He had purpose again.

"Hate to say it, kid." Asad glanced at Elizabeth from the corner of his eye. "But I don't think we would have made it out without our metal friend back there." The man chuckled, shaking his head. "I just wish I could see Basilio's face when he realizes that."

Elizabeth chuckled. "If he even has one left by the time this is over," she said. "I guess we had to catch a lucky break eventually. We're calling the shots now, Asad. Our lives are our own once more."

"Stick with me, kid." Asad raised a hand off the wheel and ruffled the girl's hair. "We'll make some waves." After a few silent moments, Asad sighed. "We're gonna have to start making some friends."

 

[Dogmatic99]

Spoiler: Music locked and loaded

Florian didn't bother turning off the engine as he pulled up outside the funeral parlor, he didn't even bother parking properly, the crawler just jolted to a halt by the street outside. He was looking for a place like this, something nice. As nice as they could get around here anyway. Stopping was enough to at least knock Florian half out of autopilot as he got out and saw to carrying his father inside. One thing he got plenty of practise at while serving as a priest was seeing to the dead, it had been a while since he'd done this but the steps weren't something you forgot easily once you'd put them to use. So now he could just do it again... on a family member. It was only right, he was the one that'd ended Vasa's life, he should be the one to see him off. At least this way he could have a scrap of dignity.

Florian pulled Vasa's body from the back seat. Really, it would have been better if he had some help, there were plenty of people following him now, he could have just asked them for help. But he'd never been very good at that and the thought of waiting and dragging this out any further just tied his guts in even tighter knots. No, he had to do this. Alone was better. Not that it would play out that way, the others caught up easily enough and Erik held the doors open for him as Florian made his way through the building to the backroom where the real business was done. Neither of them said anything.

It felt as if Florian didn't have the strength to speak anyway, it took a deep breath and a push to just remove the coat that was covering Vasa's face. He should have said something like 'he looked so peaceful' or something like that. It would have been a lie though, the blood had ceased to flow and Vasa's body was already ice cold. At most he looked neutral, not that Florian would know what his father would have have looked like if he was feeling peaceful. It was in that quiet moment that he realised that the moment he knelt over Vasa and held his hand as he put a bullet through his heart was probably the most intimate moment the two of them had ever shared.

With his last breath he told Florian he was proud... that he was so proud. 'He said that the first time I ever killed a man too.' It was fitting, Florian supposed. 'Had to really hammer it home, didn't you, Dad?

"This was in his jacket." He said, passing the letter signed for Erik to the big man without looking at him. "One for each of us... I guess he wanted someone to keep them safe." Stop them from getting blood stained. 'Why'd you make me do this?'

He hated his father in these moments, he hated this city and it's rancid, tattered streets. he hated the people who'd helped tear it apart and now looked at him like he had the answers of how to put it all apart. What made Florian so qualified to do this kind of thing? Nothing, just that he was stupid enough to come back and loud enough to grab people's attention. Because a long time ago, he felt like he could own this place and they all looked at him like he was still that same person and for the life of him Florian couldn't understand why.

'What would I have even done, if I'd staid and actually pulled the original plan off?' As if Florian would have been the kind of person you wanted running a dome back then but he'd have liked to think that he'd have done something better than this.

["Not this... I wont be the one that did this."] He said to himself through gritted teeth. ["I refuse to be the person that did this!"]

"Florian?" Erik asked him uneasily.

'I wont be the person that brought a fresh hell down on this place, I wont just leave it to the dogs or whatever bastards try and take our place.' ["I wont let this be our legacy!"]

Everyone was looking at him like he was a crazy person, they weren't leaving though. They'd tied themselves to him, it was too late now, whatever he did, wherever he went. Erik had thrown his old loyalties away, Irena had gotten herself half killed and Lilith... he didn't even know how this would mess up Lilith but Florian wasn't one to expect happy endings for anyone. Somehow this would come back on her. And all the while the war was waiting outside... with so many people that had ended up fighting for his cause. For him, whether they meant to or not. Florian had gone looking for a life of peace and servitude and somehow he'd gathered himself an army. Like he could trust this city to people who'd follow him of all people.

He knew where this was going, it was staring him right in the face. He wouldn't run this time. "Do you still have the old papers?" he asked Erik who was looking on at him, all full of worry.

"What for?" Erik's brow furrowed.

"For the plan... the old one. We might need them."

Realisation flashed across Erik's face, he looked as if he might protest before stopping himself. Florian had that look in his eye, one Erik hadn't seen in a long time but he knew it just as well. It was the same one he got when he had a scheme brewing, usually a mad one. No one was stopping the boy now, so the best he could do was stand by him. "I can get them." He nodded.

"Good. If the rest of you need something to do then spread the word to all the captains and crews, everyone who's someone, Florian Bejic is back and he's holding a gathering at... at..." Where should it be? He was still making this up as he went! "The cathedral!" That was a good place for it, good and proper. "In twenty-four hours!" It was a stretch but it would give him time. "If they want a chance in the new Frostfall then they'll be there."

He was gearing up now, no more melancholy or self pity, Florian forced himself on as if a fire had been lit under him. For a moment he almost felt like his old self, just a little bit. He'd do this right, he had to. 'I can't let it be for nothing.'

"And someone get me an update on Irena's condition!" He barked as people began to file out of the room, herded on by Florian's yelling and Erik's watchful glare. "And you, I have a special mission for you!" He grabbed some poor soul and gave them the address for Father Jamesone's church. "You get this man for me... I need a priest today."

Soon everyone was gone, either knowing where to go themselves or being sent on their way by Erik as he picked things up, leaving Florian and Lilith alone to watch over Vasa's remains. With the rush over with the energy that had wrapped Florian up began to fade as he faced down his immediate task. 'I'm going to do this, Dad, I going to make all this right even if it kills me.'

 

[Terratina.]

With one hand keeping the blanket in place and the other wound tightly around his son's wrists, Talbot thundered towards the garage with Vanco just behind. In between constant panting Talbot said, "After this, my boy, there is plenty in store for you!"

'Jesse', on the other hand, was more concerned with the present than the future; his running speed paled in compression to that of his zipping thoughts as he got nearer and nearer to what he'd tried to escape in the first place: a oubliette of a marriage to some Noble family's daughter.

Surely the rest of the Maidens would notice his absence? No, no, no, why would they bother?

He lost them around the last bend, but Sprout could tell he was gaining on them. He would have been concerned about them hearing his footfalls had he been subtle about his pursuit. "I'M COMIN', JESSE!" he shouted down the hall.

"The hangar is just ahead," Vanco told them. "Once we're inside I want you two in a crawler ASAP. I'll take care of the bandit."

"...Axel?!" Astor called back. Had his desperate mind conjured a saviour in the form of that yokel? As 'Jesse' turned his head, a wave of relief was interrupted by a twinge of fear. Sprout stood no chance against Vanco.

The young noble tried to wiggle free but to no avail.

"Get out of--!" He shouted but was cut off by a quick tug of the arm.

Ignoring his son, Talbot simply gave of grunt of, "Of course."

Once they were inside the hangar Vanco pushed Astor towards his father and pointed to of the crawler near the boarding ramp. "Get in," he commanded as he jogged over to the ramp control panel on the back wall. They hadn't touched down yet, but he knew they were close. Close enough, anyway. He pulled down hard on the crank, prompting the boarding ramp to initialize its opening sequence. It was an old hunk of junk, but Vanco was confident he'd be able to hold off their attackers until they were clear to leave. "It's about to get turbulent in here!" He shouted to Talbot over the blaring alarms.

His pistol aimed at the door, Vanco strafed closer to his charge when he spotted someone in the doorway. He opened fire.

Sprout almost ran right into Vanco's attack but pulled back at the last moment and spun around the doorway, slamming his back against the wall. "YOU IN THERE, JESSE?!" Sprout called out.

The ensuing burst of wind whipped through the runaway noble's dyed hair and threatened to whisk away the blanket in Talbot's clutches. However, the noble managed to shove his son and himself into the crawler before any of his remaining decency was lost.

"YEAH! I'M HERE!" 'Jesse' managed to shout. His father had him pinned to the seat. But that didn't stop his struggling. Well, it was better than completely giving up.

"COPY THAT!" Sprout hollered before blind firing through the doorway. Vanco dove out of the line of fire, behind a mound of crates. The winds were loud but Sprout could hear him tumbling across the hangar, and took that opportunity to make his own maneuver. He emptied half his clip before he made it to safety behind a disassembled crawler. "I'VE GOT 'IM ON THE ROPES, BUT IF YA' SEE AN' OPENIN'--TAKE IT!"

"ROGER!" 'Jesse' yelled. Everything was moving too fast. He had to get out of the crawler but a certain lardass was making things difficult. In desperation, Astor bit down on his father's arm. Talbot howled as he jerked it away. Taking the opportunity, Astor scrambled out, slammed the door shut and hugged the side of the crawler for cover.

The young noble was more trouble than he was worth. Vanco was beginning to regret not killing him when he had the chance. Better to fuck up and apologize than to have the little prick get him killed. "GET HIM IN THE CRAWLER!" Vanco barked at his supposed master. He was on his second clip now with two more to spare, so he could hold out a bit longer if need be.

Sprout wasn't so fortunate. He ran out most of his first clip on the way in and was burning through twice as much ammo as his oppnent was. He'd be out soon. "Shit," Sprout muttered to himself. "Gotta get closer... take 'im from the side before he knows what hit 'im."

Talbot was still shaking the bitten arm when Vanco yelled that ever-so-helpful remark. Grasping the blanket again, Talbot got out of the crawler yelling, "You've picked up some unseemly habits, my boy!"

Thankfully, dodging a large, almost naked man with only one arm open was pretty easy. On the other hand, Astor was being slowly chased around the crawler. Not good.

Sprout slipped out a small hand mirror Amy had given him from his pocket and angled it so that he could see Vanco's position without exposing himself. He was distracted by something.

Whatever yer doin' kid, don' stop jus' yet!

Jesse's bizarre show caught Vanco's attention just long enough for Sprout to slip by undetected. The ex-assassin looked frantically around the hangar, trying to get a bead on his prey when Sprout suddenly appeared once more--lashing out from around Vanco's cover. The older man managed to pop two shots off before the boy grabbed his wrist. Neither found their mark but they came close. Sprout pushed the the man's arm backwards and buried the barrel of his own pistol between Vanco's ribs. He was two slow on the trigger, and before they knew it both warriors were locked in a grapple.

"Amateur," Vanco spat before bashing his forehead against Sprout's. While the boy was flat-footed Vanco slammed his wrist down on a nearby crate, forcing his weapon out of his hand. Sprout opted for a growl rather than screaming in agony and pushed back against the assassin's force. Grabbing his shoulder with his free hand, Sprout used his new found leverage to pull the larger man into his attack--smashing his manhood against the boy's knee.

Vanco reached down instinctively for his crotch as it throbbed relentlessly. Dirty Fighting 101 with his mother had paid off. Getting his junk smashed to bits in training had been worth it after all! While Vanco was momentarily disabled Sprout used his leverage to angle Vanco's pistol towards his head, but before he could make him pull the trigger the assassin released the clip and fired the chambered shot right above his head--before Sprout could line up the shot. As the pain faded, Vanco's strength grew and before Sprout knew it his advantage had been lost.

Oh, fuck! SHIT!

Vanco headbutted the boy a second time, sending him reeling backwards onto his ass. This wasn't looking good.

'Jesse' caught sight of the fight in between the chase. Hope swelled in his chase as the ol' dirty shot to the nads did its work. However, it was quickly dashed as Sprout took another headbutt. Vanco loomed over the boy, ready to kill. Sprout's gun lay on the floor, Astor could... If he did, there was no going back. If he didn't, Sprout would die. The runaway noble gulped.

His eyes darted back and forth as beats of sweat trailed past them. Astor wasn't cut out for a life of crime! But yet... But yet...

The boy darted out, ran over to the gun, picked it up and fired a shot into Vanco's back. 'Jesse' just stood there afterwards, eyes wide with a smoking gun in his shaking hands. His father's curses faded into nothingness as the reality set in.

Sprout and Vanco stared into each other's eyes, completely stunned and confused. Sprout, because he never suspected Jesse to have the balls to do something like that and Vanco, because... well... he'd been shot! And by this stupid punk of all people! It may well be a fatal wound given a couple minutes, but he was far too pissed off to go down without taking that little shit-stain with him. "MOTHER FUCKER!" He roared as he spun around suddenly, and grabbed the boy by the neck.

"JESSE!" Sprout choked, scrambling to his feet.

"FUCK FU--!" 'Jesse' yelped, dropping the gun as he tried to stop Vanco's hands from crushing his windpipe. He gulped down air as he tossed and turned. 'I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead!'

Talbot, meanwhile, looked on in horror, throat sore from yelling, face twisted by rage; the noble's patience had long worn thin. "ENOUGH! KILL THE TRAITOR!" He managed to yell.

Sprout slipped a knife out from his belt and was about to plunge it into Vanco's back when a gunshot suddenly split the air, silencing all the chaos in the room. A pink mist exploded out of the side of Vanco's head. His entire body went limp in that instant--freeing Jesse from his grasp as his corpse hit the bulkhead with a dull thud. Sprout turned his head to see Tallahassee standing in the doorway with his pistol held casually at his side. Sprout wished he could look that badass.

"Y'all okay in here?" the cowboy asked as if nothing had happened at all.

Astor stroked his neck, "Just f-fine."

Talbot scrunched his hands into fist and stormed up to the cowboy, seemingly unaware of the danger, "What is this?! Did my son put you fiends up to this treachery? I demand to know!"

"Son?" Tal asked, scratching his head. "What the fuck's this putz on about?"

"That'll be me, at least biologically." Astor sighed, "Astor Horatio Catamitus Beauregard Chetwynd-Talbot IV, at your service."

"Makes sense," Tal said. "Yer a pansy, after all, but a brave one at least." He poked Talbot in the gut with his pointer finger. "Yer son's a regular gunslinger. Should make a papa proud."

The only noises Talbot could only make were flabbergasted fragments of words. Astor, meanwhile, turned away and muttered, "Are we done here?"

"Yeah," Tal replied. "Sprout, get fatso's hands bound. I'll call it in." With that, Tallahassee stepped away to radio Bennie.

Sprout roughed up the noble a bit before zip-tying his hands and sitting him down against the way nearby. "So, you were a noble, huh?" the boy said to Jesse in a cryptic tone.

"Yeah, one with a ridiculous name at that." Astor shrugged.

Sprout looked out at the dirt beyond the bay door. At some point during all the chaos they had landed. "An' you gave it all up fer a life of crime?" he asked, still rather neutrally.

'Good question.' What was the big behind all this? Oh wait, there wasn't one. Just bumbling about in the commoners' world...

Astor looked towards Vanco's corpse, "I guess?"

Well, there certainly wasn't any going back now.

Sprout cocked an eyebrow and looked at Jesse for the first time since he'd shot Vanco. "Well, yer dad's here now," he said. "Now's yer last chance ta' bail if ya' wanna. Vanco? It ain't gonna get any easier. Killin', I mean. If you reckon ya' got the stomach fer it an'... well, I reckon I may have the stomach fer yer punk ass." He chuckled quietly.

"Pretty certain dear daddy won't be forgiving." 'Jesse' replied, "And I'm sure I'll go insane if he decides to lock me up in some tower in the middle of nowhere."

Sprout patted him on the shoulder and smirked. "Good ta' have you then, Jesse," he said.

Jesse shifted his gaze from the floor to Sprout, ?Thanks.?

 

[The Funslinger]

Ruffles opened his mouth to call out as Sprout bailed out, but checked the motion. There'd be no turning him back.

Suddenly, an alarming thought struck him. He'd put down the shotgun to look at the engine and prepare it because Sprout had been covering him. Ruffles had been in the middle of the departure preparations when the kid had bailed. There was nobody covering him.

He turned and lunged for the shotgun where it was propped, but was met half way by an engineer sprinting forward with his head down. Ruffles had time only to wonder how the man had gotten his ankles free of the zip ties when the engineer charged headfirst into his gut. The wind was forced from his lungs and he was overbalanced, landing hard on his back and slamming his head on the floor.

While he was disoriented, the engineer that had charged him took position on his chest. At first, it seemed as though his hands were bound, but he heaved his shoulders and there was a snap. Pieces of severed zip tie scattered.

As the engineer made to take control of Ruffles' arms, he instinctively went into one of the grappling techniques Pixie had taught him. Pulling his arms in tightly, he made himself small and began worming his way up, bringing the engineer down from his chest to his hips. Bucking as hard as he could, he threw the other man forward so that he threw out his hands either side of Ruffles' shoulders.

Working his way down, he got his knee under his attacker's shin and lunged forward under the other man's arm on the same side, then threw his weight across the man's back. They rolled over and Ruffles came up on top. Grabbing the engineer's wrists, he pushed them together and clamped them his left hand. Pulling a small revolver inside his jumpsuit, he pistol whipped the engineer twice on the forehead. With his Glock destroyed, he'd grabbed it last second from the Maiden's armory.

In between the two thuds, however, Ruffles heard the snap of more zip ties. Turning, he saw a second engineer, a woman, going for where his shotgun had fallen during the struggle. In her hand was a pocket knife. Somehow, it'd gone undetected during the pat downs. Ruffles berated himself. He more than anyone knew the potential for hidden pockets in a jumpsuit.

Lurching to his feet, he turned so that he could aim properly. At this, the woman flung the knife and lunged for the shotgun. Arcing wildly through the air, the knife found its target on a fluke, hitting Ruffles in his left shoulder. The knife was poorly weighted and small bladed, and didn't go too deep, but it did go deep enough to stick in. Crying out in pain, Ruffles corrected his aim and fired twice. He wasn't aiming to kill, but he couldn't risk only taking a single shot. If it missed, she might be able to fire. Both bullets hit the engineer, and Ruffles' stomach went cold. The first hit the engineer's forearm, causing the shotgun to spill from her hand, and the second hit her high in the chest, taking her off of his feet.

Dropping the revolver back into its holster, Ruffles pulled the knife out with a snarl as he strode forward knelt by the injured man. Pulling an unused rag from his jumpsuit, he wiped the blood from the blade. It was the best he had in the situation. Checking over the man's injuries, he found that the first shot had passed through the forearm. As quickly as he could. but still with a great amount of care, Ruffles pried the bullet out of the man's chest. As soon as he saw it pop out, he whisked it away, grabbed the shotgun, stood up and hurried over to the nearest still bound engineer. Cutting him free, he said, "get over there and put pressure on that wound."

The engineer was terrified enough to obey without comment, scurrying over to his colleague. Hurrying to the wall, he grabbed a first aid kit mounted on the wall and threw it to the engineer stemming the blood flow. Propping the shotgun by the engine, he put his revolver on the floor near where his hand would be, and finished the final adjustment on the engine, and sealed the grate.

After what had happened to the other two, the other engineers had regained their sense of cooperation. Sprout's sudden departure had given their fight or flight reflexes the boost it needed to overcome fear, but now the fear was back.

Sighing, Ruffles positioned himself with his back to the wall and watched his charges. Fuck sake, Sprout.

 

[Fappy]

"Aye, I'm with the old man now...over."

Spoiler: Guts

Dio grinned. "Good," he said simply. "Standby." Pixie was about to make a move for the pistol on the floor when Dio suddenly called out to her. "The old man's alive, Meredith."

He had her attention now.

Forget him, end this now!

"If you spare my life I promise you Cranston's," Dio explained.

Pixie scoffed. "You don' sound too concerned," she replied. "What 'appened to the fearless knight all yer noble fuckwit friends go on about? Thought you were s'posed ta' be some kinda legend."

"They say the same about you. Don't sell yourself short."

"Fuck you!" Pixie spat. "I'm not 'ere ta' listen to yer ***** ass beg fer mercy. I'm here ta' put you down. I'm done posturin'. I ain't got nothin' ta' prove to a dead man."

Dio chuckled. "Put him on," he said into his walky talky. "Let him say enough to convince her he's alive." Without warning Dio suddenly tossed the radio at Pixie who caught it reflexively. Had it been a bomb of some sort she may have lost a hand.

Pixie clenched her jaw, and keeping her good eye on Dio, she opened up the channel and spoke. "Cranston?" she whispered.

There was a long silence before the radio came to life with the sound of ragged breathing. It sounded like a man on his deathbed.

"Meredith," the voice on the other end finally said. "I got caught.'

Pixie grinned sadly. "Y-yeah, Chromy," she choked, "looks like ya' did. I'm gonna get you out, okay?"

Dio's cruel grin grew sour when Cranston was allowed to reply to that. "It's too late for that now, Merry," he said. "My fire's finally burned out."

"Cranston!" Pixie cried. "I-I, n-no I can still--it ain't too--"

"Meredith," Cranston interrupted. "Promise me something."

Pixie closed her eye and inhaled sharply, steeling herself for what was to come. "Anythin' for you," she whispered.

"Go home to Sprout and Lilith. Kill this man if you feel you need to, but promise me you will return to them. They need you."

"I will," the Bandit Queen told him. "What will I do without you?"

"Survive," Cranston said plainly. "Like you always have."

Pixie's piercing gaze wavered as she fought back tears. "I love you," she whimpered.

"I love you too, Meredith," he said. "I'm proud of you." Moments later a gunshot sounded from the radio before the channel was closed.

Cranston was dead.

Dio snickered like a spoiled little boy. Bryan may have disobeyed his orders, but at least he got a good show out of it. "Very touching," he mocked. "Really, such a heartfelt goodbye. Tell me, did you share such a moment with Margaret?"

Her head bowed, Pixie remained silent--the radio still in her hand. She tightened her grip around it more and more until the plastic began to give. Dio didn't notice. "No," she finally said before crunching the walky talky in her hand. "You cut out her heart."

"Well, I suppose you do need one of th--" Before Dio could finish his taunt Pixie was suddenly moving. She'd discarded the gnarled radio and dove for the pistol on the floor. Dio didn't have time to close the gap and opted to find cover instead--leaving him with little more than a flesh wound on his thigh when Pixie came after him. She charged his position, unloading her pistol as he slid atop the mahogany desk and crouched behind it. Pixie strafed around the side of the desk, firing all the while. Bits of wood exploded overhead as Dio ducked low and propelled himself across the marble floor, to the other side of the desk.

"GET BACK HERE MOTHER FUCKER!" Pixie howled as she leaned forward over the desk, pointing her pistol at him as he lay flat on his back. She was close now. Dio rolled to dodge Pixie's first two shots but a third clipped his ear. The fourth shot never came.

*click* *click*

This was his chance.

Dio reached out and grabbed Pixie's wrist before she could withdraw. Pulling himself up by her arm, he delivered a swift jab to her nose, crushing the cartridge in three places. Then he hit her again. Pixie managed to free herself from his grasp and staggered backwards against the wall, stunned. The Lord of Feroxi lept to his feet and lunged over the desk to meet her.

Pixie shook off the last blow just in time to counter the next--deflecting Dio's attempt to choke her with one arm while hitting him the side with the other. Like two boxers, they danced along the back wall exchanging blows, any of which would have KO'd a normal person. As the pummeling went on Pixie grew dizzy--no doubt from all the blows to the head and face she'd received. She couldn't keep up the pace and Dio knew it.

"DON'T TIRE ON ME NOW, MEREDITH!" he taunted as he pressed the attack--delivering a series of blows to her mid-section. The final punch forced her to double-over, leaving her wide open for a knee to the jaw. Pixie lost balance and crashed against the desk, causing it to skid a couple inches across the marble floor. Dio was upon her immediately, punching her across the face, causing her torso to pivot ninety-degrees. "USELESS!" He spat as he grabbed her by the back of the head. "USELESS!" He cracked her forehead against the desk once. "USELESS!" Twice. "USELESS!" Three times.

Blood was pouring out of her face when he grabbed her by the collar and pulled her in close. All Pixie could smell was copper, even as he spat in her face. "WHERE'S THE LEGENDARY BANDIT QUEEN I'VE HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT?! IS THIS IT?! AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH--AFTER ALL THE TRIALS WE'VE FACED SINCE OUR LAST ENCOUNTER--THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO OFFER ME?!"

Dio's question was answered when a sharp stabbing pain pierced his abdomen. While he'd been slamming Pixie's face against his desk she'd managed to scoop up the letter opener he'd left there. Now it was stuck between his ribs--four inches inside his lung.

Pixie didn't give the man a chance to scream.

She grabbed his throat with her freehand, and using the letter opener as leverage--she hoisted him up above her head. She roared as she slammed him back down onto his desk, fracturing his spine and snapping the desk in two. As he lay there helpless, gasping for air, Pixie mounted him and removed her eyepatch. Taking his face in her hands, she forced him to look her in the eye. Was she trying to show him her hatred or the damage he'd done to her? Even she wasn't sure.

She'd fantasized about this moment for over a decade in a thousand different ways. She'd written so many scripts for it, but for some reason none of them seemed to fit.

Then it suddenly hit her.

Before she'd fully realized it her thumbs were already snaking their way to his eyes. Dio's expression grew panicked, but he didn't make a peep until she'd stuck them inside. The vengeful bandit pressed her thumbs in deep, shaking his head violently as she sunk them in ever deeper. His inhuman screams reminded her of Carlos'.

Somehow that just fueled her rage more.

He had taken everything from her. This is what he deserved. This is what she'd always wanted. She was taking it back. Her life. Her joy. Everything.

"OH GOD," a terrified voice suddenly called out from the doorway. "G-GET OFF OF HIM OR I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!"

Pixie froze. That voice sounded so familiar. Slowly, she ceased torturing Dio and turned her head.

"M-Merry?!"

It was Tsubaki.

 

[Dogmatic99]

Spoiler: Music

Their group was out the door and scattered to their tasks, leaving Florian with just that dreaded moment to himself. "Okay, that's that, that's good, they all know what they're doing." He said out loud to himself as he paced around the door, running ash stained hands through his increasingly greasy hair as he turned to face the corpse in the room.

"So I just have to do this..." He stopped in his tracks. "With you here, because you're - hmmm - that's great." He said, half looking at Lilith.

Lilith looked at the ground, hands in her pockets. "I can go if you'd prefer." She glanced up at the man, a sad smile curling her lips.

"You know out here, we have this tradition. That once the dead are prepared, before they're burned, those closest to them stay with them. Some places have special rooms for it. Then they burn them just before sundown, that special hour where it looks like the sky's on fire... and they stay with them, all night. They stand their vigil and they do... whatever they need to. you get all the mourning out over those hours and when dawn comes you step out into the light... and you're ready to carry on unburdened. That's what people say about it anyway."

While he'd been talking Florian had gone to the sink, rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands and readying the tools he could find as he went through the old motions of making the body presentable. Still his eyes kept looking back to Lilith as she stood there smiling.

'My father's dead and she's smiling. I killed him, for her, and she's smiling. I used to do that. I could gut a man and laugh it off as he bled at my feet. How many times had he seen the maiden's laughing in the middle of a gunfight? hell, he'd done the same just a few hours ago.

He had wanted a life of peace, to help people and instead he'd pledged himself to a woman who could grin from ear to ear as she mutilated those stuck in her path. 'Did you ever smile like that when you fought your way up that tower to free me, Lil? Did I... and I just wasn't brave enough to see it?'

But he couldn't think of that now or the weight would crush him. He had to tend to his family now.

"I don't think I get to say I was close to him after today." Florian sighed as he pressed a wet cloth to Vasa's pale brow.

"He's your dad." Lilith shrugged "He might have been a..." Lilith thought better of what she was about to say, given the current mood. "Difficult man to understand, but he's still your dad." Lilith bit her bottom lip as she thought for a moment. "I didn't really say it before." She shuffled her feet slightly. "I... I'm sorry, about everything, if I hadn't been there, then..." She looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"He wanted this. He wanted to go, to lose his way, he just thought it'd be someone else." Florian still remembered the way he looked at them, that smug smirk, the cheek when he'd asked for Erik to take her place. He laughed bitterly at the thought, of the way Vasa had asked for Erik to take her place. "He... he even left me a fucking note!" He was back to snapping again as he backed away from his handiwork on the table.

["GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU!"] He screamed at the corpse. ["Damn you for making me do this!"] He needed a moment to breathe, there was so much Florian wanted to say, that had gone unsaid for so long. He wanted to rant and scream and curse the heavens. But the world wouldn't stop turning outside and he still had more to do. And each time he looked at Lilith's downcast blue eyes he felt a fresh punch in his gut.

"So you don't need to apologise, don't you dare apologise." He patted her on the shoulder, it came across more manic than reassuring. "And I don't have time to mourn."

"Me and Erik can take care of things for a little bit." Lilith rested her cheek on Florian's hand. "Take as much time as you need." The girl looked up at Florian, who at this point looked like he'd aged about ten years. "I'll be around if you need anything." She smiled again. "I'll even cook the eggs."

Despite it all he couldn't help but savour the feeling of his skin resting against hers. Even in this blasted place on unending winter she was so warm. However crazy he'd gotten Lilith had always stood by him. Like she stood by everyone. In that moment she let him feel calm.

"I didn't even think." He croaked, the strength draining from his voice. "I didn't hesitate, didn't even think of it as him. I Just saw that you were in trouble, that he'd hurt you and... and I did it."

"It's not your fault." Lilith stepped closer to him, pressing herself against his chest as she slowly wrapped her arms around him. "It's not your fault, blame me if you have to, I just need you to tell me that this isn't your fault." She met his eyes. "It's not your fault." She cooed, shaking her head gently.

'Please don't say that, anything but that.' Because he wanted to blame her, to push her away and look at her as nothing more than the woman he spilled his family's blood for, the one who'd heaped even more pain onto his plate. He wanted to hate her, more than he hated himself, more than he hated his father and all the rest of them for helping bring this about and not turning away from this madness. And she'd take it all on herself without complaint, just as he'd tried to do and failed. She'd hold him in that warmth and speak so softly after walking through all that violence and rage. For him. Because she wanted to. It spoke to how messed up Florian's mental state was that to him, knowing what he was about to do, this was the cruelest thing she could do.

He didn't say anything. He didn't raise his arms to hold her in turn, he couldn't. He just closed his eyes and let go, leaning into Lilith's embrace and weakly trying to turn his face away for the sake of his pride. His breathing was beginning to sound something like sobs and his eyes were welling up faster than he could control. Until he couldn't hide it anymore.

Must have been the air something.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Spoiler

"We cut off the feeds right on time, ma'am," the broadcast tech told Contessa.

The Lady of Paradiso stepped off the holo-platform and approached her generals standing nearby. "Good," she said. "Blow the charges. Now. We can't risk any of the eye-witnesses living to tell people what they saw. The Gentleman has better eyes than I gave him credit for."

"Right away my Lady," one of the generals said before he left to bark orders over his comm.

"Give me your pistol," Contessa told one of the remaining officers. He handed it over without question. "We're going to have to make this a convincing show." She put it in her purse.

"Let's get you to makeup and wardrobe, my Lady," one of the tech explained, taking her hand. Contessa smiled at the young man and followed him out of the room.

====================================================================================================================================

Even as the crowd panicked, The Gentleman slid smoothly through the jostling masses as everyone dove for the exits. He made no effort to help them along their way. He'd given the fools fair warning, his concern was for himself now.

He'd barely made it out of the auditorium before he was staggered by explosions chaining through multiple floors of the building. Glass shattered, pillars crumbled, and the hallways filled with smoke and distant screams. The Gentleman looked up to see a great, gilded statue of Lord Rufus Ludwig-Montague Lombardi III, far more impressive-looking than the man ever had been in life, teeter off its pedestal towards him. Quickly, The Gentleman rolled forward out of the way, as the old Lord fell face-first, with a deep clang. Dusting himself off as he got to his feet, The Gentleman continued towards his goal with renewed haste.

The stampede would bottleneck towards the tower's front entrance. Trying to get out that way would be a waste of time. The Gentleman knew a better way... having broken in to Parasido Tower so many times, doing the reverse shouldn't be too hard.

Beyond the auditorium lay a maze of reception rooms, and beyond them the kitchens. From there, he would be able to access service elevators to take him into the bowels of Lombardi Tower, where transit tunnels awaited to aid his escape from the compound. The normal halogen glare of the kitchens had been replaced by the dull red of emergency lighting, filtered through an increasing haze of smoke. The ventilation wasn't working. Stifling a cough, The Gentleman crouched low to the ground as he made his way toward the service elevators. Along the way, he saw the bodies of some of the kitchen staff through the gloom, though far fewer than there should have been under the circumstances. His earlier warning had paid off. Well, that was one card that had turned in his favour, at least. With any luck, a good number of the servant staff had made it out before Contessa had stationed men at the exits, no doubt in anticipation of the escape he was currently attempting. Speaking of which...

The Gentleman dived down behind a work station as one of the service elevators arrived, and a squad of six Lombardi men wearing gas-masks and wielding sub-machine guns piled out. Flashlights scanned the room as the commander of the squad barked orders.

"Permission to engage the target on sight!" the soldier exclaimed in muffled tones "But don't forget, this is recon. If we engage, call it in even if it means you taking a bullet, or I'll shoot you myself!"

'Don't worry. They will.' The Gentleman thought. He crept around the officer's position, slowly feeding the garrotte wire out of his pocket-watch, before lunging from behind. One swift tug, and the leader was a dead man, staggering and slipping in the pool of his own blood. The next two closest to him got bullets through their skulls before they'd even fully turned around, and The Gentleman rolled over a workstation and into cover, as the quickest of the remaining troops fired a wild burst in his direction, stopping only to bring his thumb to the radio pinned to his jacket. Before he'd got the chance to utter a word, however, the Gentleman's stiletto was spinning through the air, and buried itself in the plastic receiver, puncturing through into his chest.

As the man staggered back, his gun clattering to the floor, The Gentleman was on the move once again. As the two remaining of the Lombardi hit-squad opened fire, The Gentleman grabbed a serving tray off on of the work stations, slid it down the aisle perpendicular to their position, and dove onto it, all without breaking his stride. The silver tray skidded across the bloody floor at speed, bullets throwing up chunks of tile and concrete behind it. Lying on his side, The Gentleman timed his moment to perfection, firing two shots as their positions became exposed.

It had all happened in a little over five seconds, and now The Gentleman, breathing a little more raggedly, approached the last remaining survivor. By the grace of his now useless radio, the knife hadn't penetrated too deeply into his chest, but still the soldier sat slumped beneath a sink, struggling for air.

"Repeat after me..." The Gentleman said coldly, as he held a receiver he taken off one of the man's comrades beneath his chin, pressing his pistol against his temple with his other hand. "We are pursuing the target towards the service elevators on level 23 west. All units, respond."

The soldier nodded grimly as The Gentleman activated the speaker.

"Command this is Gold Four-Niner..." He began "We have engaged the target. Captain Hargreaves is KiA, in pursuit towards service elevators on 23W. All units, please respond, over."

"Copy that Four-Niner." the reply came back, quickly enough that The Gentleman was satisfied that there was no deception.

"Thank you." he said, before pulling the trigger, and yanking his blade out of the man's chest, before proceeding towards the service elevators. He should have a clear path now.

====================================================================================================================================

Contessa was watching a live feed of the proceedings while her handlers worked. Unlike typical makeup work, many of Contessa's injuries were real... artificial, but real. Small cuts were made on her face, forehead and arms, covering her in a fair bit of her own blood. The brusies were largly just makeup, but they looked convincing enough. She'd been dressed in a tarnished version of the dress she had on during the speech. It was covered in blood, soot and scorch marks.

Her handlers were true artists.

"My Lady, some of the guests are escaping through the lobby," one of her generals told her. "Orders?"

Contessa winced as one of her handlers cut her with a razor just above the eyebrow. "Set off the second barrage," she said with a sad grin. "Take the tower to the ground."

====================================================================================================================================

Spoiler

The Gentleman had anticipated something dramatic, from either Contessa or Dio if not both. However, even he had to pause at the notion that Contessa would be so willing to destroy the opulent perch from which she had looked down upon humanity her entire life, and all the treasures contained within it. Although, when he thought about it, he supposed it made a great deal of sense. Contessa's appetites had always been larger than life, and what better display of the limitlessness of your wealth, than to almost contemptuously burn such a large portion of it to the ground? Was she trying to impress him? To give him some kind of grand gesture setting her apart from the pettiness of the rest of her class?

Well, he had to admit it was a little impressive... in a gauche sort of way.

Before the elevator made it to it's destination, The Gentleman had to resort To squatting and breathing through a handkerchief, as the shaft and car began to fill with smoke, leaking through from all the other levels they had passed. It was just as well the fires weren't burning inside the shaft itself yet, or The Gentleman may have been roasted inside the metal box. That would hardly be sporting.

He had to resist temptation to gulp in air, as the car finally made it down into a loading bay in one of the sub levels of the tower. Quickly taking cover behind a nearby forklift, The Gentleman scanned the cavernous space. No-one had noticed his arrival. All the soldiers and support staff left were pre-occupied with evacuating. Calmly, he studied his options. There was a tram docked about two hundred yards from his position. If he was quick and quiet, he could stow away on board and ride it out into the city, where even the largest manhunt would never find him. If that didn't work, he could always hijack it.

The muffled boom of a second barrage of explosions above his head made up his mind for him. Contessa wasn't taking any chances. Much as it pained him to admit, there was no longer any time for finesse. He needed to leave, now.

A terrible screeching issued forth from behind his position, as the cables in the elevator shafts gave way and the cars still in transit began a fast trip down. The personnel in the loading bay dropped all pretence of organisation as they began to flee for their lives. Fortunately, this meant no-one took any notice of The Gentleman, already in full sprint, bounding onto his chosen tram as it pulled away out of the docking station, and into the tunnels of Paradiso. The cars were open-roofed, stocked with cargo and whatever soldiers had been close enough to clamber aboard as it left. They all died quickly as The Gentleman made his way towards the front, shooting as he went. At least the driver needed no encouragement to take the tram to full throttle. If the man noticed The Gentleman at all, he was probably just grateful to still be alive.

The rumble of the tracks and whine of the engine were drowned out in an instant by the ungodly roar of the tower above their heads, as it finally began to collapse. Disappearing behind them, The Gentleman saw the tram station crushed under an onslaught of falling rubble; that, with nowhere else to go, tumbled down the tunnel at terrifying speed after them, grasping at the tram with thick plumes of dust and smoke.

"FASTER!" The Gentleman bellowed, but it was unclear if the driver heard him.

====================================================================================================================================

Contessa was almost ready now. After thirty minutes of hell, the chaos above them was only intensifying. By now several news teams had arrived on the scene and were covering the devistation. No doubt every noble on the Rock not currently burning alive had their eyes on Paradiso... perhaps on Feroxi as well. Contessa usually played the game with finesse and subtly. However, in this case, instead of carefully checking all of her opponents at once, she'd opted to flip the table over. She would cast down every pawn and see which ones could rise up out of the ashes.

And she would guide them to the promised land she had always envisioned.

"We're ready now, my Lady," one of her generals said. "Do I need to remind you of the risk?"

"That won't be necessary," she told him. "Just make sure the cameras are where they need to be and the medics don't immediately come to my aid."

The general saluted. "Very well ma'am," he said. "Good luck."

The Golden Empress stepped into the black box at the back of the complex and watched as the automatic doors closed behind her. The elevator rose quickly, shaking and rocking every now and then as it burst through melted steal and burning rubble. Eventually it came to a halt on the surface.

Before the doors opened, Contessa inhaled sharply and pulled the trigger, blasting a hole clean through her shoulder. The pain was excrusiating. She cried out in agony before staggering out of the elevator. The reinforced steel canopy had protected it from the debris above, allowing for a clear path for Contessa to follow.

"HOLY SHIT! ARE YOU GETTING THIS?!" one reporter shouted as he pointed his camera man in the direction of the woman staggering down the street.

It was Contessa, and she looked like utter hell. Several news teams ran to her as she clutched her fresh wound, struggling to stay on her feet.

"GET A MEDIC OVER HERE STAT! IT'S LADY LOMBARDI!"

Contessa fell to her knees and managed to whisper, "I-it was the Gentleman," before losing consciousness.

====================================================================================================================================

As all eyes were turned towards the rubble and flames of Lombardi tower, no-one noticed a man-hole halfway across the city open up in the middle of the street.

From it, a man in the tattered remains of a coat with tails, caked with a mixture of blood and dust, stumbled out into the light. One eye was gummed up with the stuff, and his left arm hung crooked and limp. His breathing was a choking rattle, as he looked at his surroundings, before hobbling into an alleyway. He didn't make it very far before he doubled over, wheezing, and collapsed next to a trash bin.