Academy of the Arts: Performance Hall

She narrowed her eyes at Jay, she couldn't just stand here, but she couldn't risk doing something brash either.

The girl gritted her teeth, to act or not to act, that was the question. If she rushed forward, maybe she could get to Angel before he did anything funny, it didn't look like he had a weapon on him at the moment, but one could never be too sure.

So Xan watched hesitantly before an opportunity actually revealed itself.

There was the sound of a struggle followed by someone yelling, but she didn't have time to check. What she did notice was Jay's startled expression and the way he loosened his grip on Angel. Now! Xan dashed ahead, tearing angel from his grip. The girl pushed him back then threw another punch at the thief. However, he managed to block this one. She had to give him credit, using Angel as a shield had been smart and he was really fast too.

But then the masked Phantom snapped. "Stop now… or I will detonate the charges we’ve laid.”

"What?" She jerked head in his direction, unknowingly giving Jay a chance to retaliate.

---

Academy of the Arts: Outside the Performance Hall

Oh Gods, did rhe scary grandma just punch the girl with the fireblade?

He winced a little in sympathy, it looked like it hurt a lot, but oh well, at least it wasn't Miffy who was hit. His friend managed to deal with the scary lady, but instead of winding unconscious she came back with a vengeance and a laugh that was creepy as cuss. What? How did she even take Miffy's hits? He was the strongest person Fabian knew!

The woman began going berserk and he shrunk back a little.

Ugggh, she gave him the heebie jeebies, but this was his chance! School teacher light post guy ended up hoping into the fray and now the only thing that was stopping him was the old stinker. Fabian mustered up all his courage and gave Lute a kick. The man loosened his grip and the boy dove forward before finally scrambling to his feet. "Ha!" He stuck out his tongue at Lute.

Fabian thought about going for the pole the man had taken away, but another thought popped into his head. What if he tried snatching the cleric's staff. It was providing everyone with light, so if he could take it away then he and Miffy would once again have an advantage, right?

He popped up behind Amy and attempted to pull her staff from behind her. "IT'S TIME TO TURN OFF THE LIGHTS!"

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall, Corridor

Lute was panicking from Moira’s display of supernatural enmity that he barely noticed when Fabian broke free, and only realized it when the boy’s foot had crashed to his face. His cheek pounded with pain and he staggered back, which the brat took as an opportunity to dash after Amy and heckle her instead. Estelle needed Amy, that much he was sure, and if Moira fell he could at least buy her a few seconds before Bunnyface and that twerp rejoined the Masked Phantom in the theater.

He hurried after the boy, his head still swimming from that sudden kick, and raised his hand. It would be better for everyone if the kid was out cold, but the Guild wouldn’t like that kind of violence… The virtuoso gritted his teeth and positioned himself in front of Amy, ready to kick that brat if he just stopped moving and using the cleric as his shield!

“All right, that’s it you little-!” He swung his arm down and then the pole suddenly activated, hitting both Fabian and Lute and sending both boys staggering back as it was between them when it grew.

---

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall (E)

The back of Francesca’s head hurt from being thrown down that roughly, as did her shoulders which had been gripped with surprising intensity by the unknown assailant. The sudden pressure on her wrist broke her control; the shadowy branches disappeared with a soft hiss as Tobias spoke. The rogue normally would have chastised herself for letting her guard down upon hearing that photographer whining but… Her narrowed eyes and the vastly glacial expression on Francesca’s face almost spoke volumes of the thoughts currently running through her mind.

One, he called her a harlot. Two, thanks to his voice, the gunner would have reason to head here instead… And frankly at this stage, who cared about silence? Her eyes narrowed even more up until she was glaring back at Tobias through thin, cat-like slits.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re furious because a woman such as myself managed to best you not just once, but twice. Your ego is wounded. The very symbol of your masculinity, that rapier, was stolen from you too, no less,” Francesca sneered and tendrils began to travel down the underside of her left arm and wrapped around her knuckle like a makeshift padding, “Ah… So that’s why it was so useless. An equally blunt blade for an equally nonexistent manhood.” The pain in her entrapped wrist burned like a wildfire as the tip of the boot dug deeper into her skin, but she didn’t mind… Not when he was going to feel much, much worse.

Her fist shot out and Tobias doubled over, but Francesca couldn’t care less that she might have broken his family jewels for life. The man deserved so much for being a gigantic imbecile. The thief got up and unclenched her fist as the grapnel grew down her left arm, and then sent her hands shooting forward in the pink mist. Instead of merely poking through, she swept through the pink fog in order to weed the gunner out faster.

She made contact, and Francesca wrapped the tendrils around that form and pulled.

Aliquam; Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Performance Hall

Dylan’s hands trembled as he watched his slate be destroyed within the Masked Phantom’s hands. The source of his powers, swept away within the blink of an eye. He needed that slate in order to activate his abilities, without it he was useless. And that thief… that arrogant, cold and callous villain had not only threatened his home, hurt his friends and family… but he had stripped him of that as well.

Those hands clenched into fists.

“Two summoners of very different talents… but both no less amazing. My, if only I could actually steal you two as well and add your talents to my collection… but I digress. As you can see, I am not a man to be easily bested, and these actions on your behalf… this fight is futile. Don’t press this further. Stop now… or I will detonate the charges we’ve laid.”

The Masked Phantom’s voice was enough to give pause to the Guilders fighting him. Dylan, Lucien, Aria, Marcus and Xandra all stopped, as wafts of pink fog scattered about and faded into the air from the sweeping of Francesca’s grapnel arms around where Trixie hid. This time the Masked Phantom was serious, and he had had enough of the Pride’s antics to resist. This time he would make good on his promise from before. He would halt this battle now, or else make good on his threat from before.

And to emphasise such a threat, he pulled from within his jacket the device that would activate the charges he and his allies had carefully placed about the Academy – his thumb placed dangerously over the trigger. He held it up, confidently, and any resistance the Pride might have considered left… vanished.

Jay and Francesca saw no such compunction in stopping. This, for them, was a golden opportunity to enact due revenge, now that the Pride were backed into a corner they couldn’t fight from. Francesca continued to swipe her grapnel arms into the pink mist around Trixie, aiming to ensnare the troublesome brat and pull her out of her cover. Jay as well had matters to settle with Angel and Xandra, and he grabbed the metallurgist in her surprise and slapped her to the ground beneath him. He muttered a quick ‘sorry’, but little more.

Everything was falling apart far faster then the Pride could stop…

Dylan lost it. He roared, and began running down the aisle towards the Masked Phantom, his body moving by itself. His slate was gone and with it his powers, but that wasn’t enough to stop him. If anything, the aggravation born from his inability to do anything was what propelled him now. He had been pushed down to his knees, against the wall. There was nothing else he could do anymore other then flail futilely at the Masked Phantom. Even though he threatened them all with the activation of multiple explosions about the Academy, causing mass chaos and destruction… Dylan had nothing left. He wanted to stop the thief. And he wanted to beat him so bad.

The Masked Phantom shook his head with a sigh as he saw Dylan approach. What was it with these people? The sheer idiocy, in not understanding when they had been beaten?

“Dylan!” Lucien called out, trying to reach and grab his friend, his fingertips just barely missing him. The Matter Artist screamed as he tore down the aisle, raising his fist to strike out.

The Masked Phantom laughed, and drew another cocky grin. "Fine."

He threw his fist out, and in contrast to his earlier efforts to push his adversaries back with powerful gusts of wind, this time he grabbed Dylan’s head as he came within reach and clutched it tightly, squeezing. He lifted the struggling man’s body off the ground, revealing a surprising amount of strength within the unusual thief.

“You just don’t seem to understand, do you?” The Masked Phantom hissed. “None of you do. None of you ever stood a chance of defeating us. This entire thing was nothing more then a game! But it’s grown tiring and trite now. Seeing you all struggle and squirm like this… it’s grown dull. Boring! I’ve had enough. This isn’t a challenge anymore. It’s just pathetic. The Academy’s foundations were always going to be destroyed in order to move onto the next phase of the plan, in airlifting the entire building away… and I had intended to wait until you had all given up and abandoned the premises… but I think now you should be taught a lesson, and the explosives detonated already, and-”

The Masked Phantom felt a sudden attack grip his wrist, and before he could even realise it, his hold on the detonator in his hand collapsed. Events seemed to move in slow motion as he turned to eye the source of the attack, and the falling device… to see a woman crouched low to his side, a woman with long auburn hair tied back in a white bow and dressed in the Academy’s traditional Priestess robes, reaching out and catching the detonator before turning back to run in the aisle of seats she had hiding in.



Dalia Sanders gave the Masked Phantom a silent glare as she did, and a small wry smile, pleased at the success of her plan, a plan in which the Masked Phantom would never become aware of.

Dalia not only had the gift of seeing a person’s emotions through the colour of their aura… she could affect it. It was a very difficult, and subtle process, but it was something she was able to achieve through intense concentration. Normally a person might find such a passive ability to be incredibly weak, bordering on the useless… until they considered the possibilities. Throughout the entire battle, she had been staying out of the others way, hiding, and using her gifts to flare up and accentuate the emotions of two people inside the Hall. First, the Masked Phantom and his boundless levels of confidence… to the tipping point where he simply became overconfident in all of his actions, and thus careless to a simple thing like her stealing his detonator.

And the second, her brother Dylan, and his courage. He would believe he could do anything. And from there…

"You can do it, Dylan," She whispered.

The Masked Phantom felt a swift, stabbing and paralysing blow strike in-between his legs. Dylan was dropped to the ground after he managed to kick the thief, and his blonde adversary curled down on the ground in surprise and pain. He looked up at Dylan, anger and frustration spinning all around him. He raised his fist up again, this time to unfurl a devastating attack of his wind magic, but his body was torn from the ground, and sent flying yet again to crash-land at the wooden stage with which he appeared. Behind Dylan and Lucien, standing next to Aria was Marcus, his hand aflame with bright emerald energy.



“We can do this!!” Dylan shouted, pumping his fist, and turning to glare at the Masked Phantom, Jay and Francesca one by one. “Don’t give up!” He said. “These thieves are nobodies!!”

The Academy of the Arts - Outer Theatrical hall
To Moira, nothing else existed. All she saw was the man in a sea of red, all his edges blurred and flickering like a bad signal on a television. He was saying something, shouting in fact. She could tell by the way he moved his mouth. She didn't hear it over the sound of her own pounding heart, neither did she care.

He rushed upon her with that suprising agility for his size, his desire to protect his companion mirroring Moira's lust of vengance for hers. She dug her heels in and bore her own fist in retaliation, then swung...

Syed could do nothing but watch as Mattis moved his head just so, Moira's fist missing his face by mere millimetres... as his fist struck the side of her head. There was a split second where nothing really seemed to happen - a split second where Syed found himself already visibly bracing for the inevitable tug on their bond - before the blow launched her violently once more into the wall.

She grit her teeth, already trying to stand up once more, although her legs simply crumpled under her and she fell heavily back to the ground.

---

The Academy of the Arts - Performance Hall
"Nobodies, eh? Heh." Jay stood over Xan, before giving out a sigh. So now the tracker girl had taken the detonator too, before dissapearing among the rows of seats. What a pain. The boss was right, this really was getting tiring.

He looked back towards Angel, who still looked pretty shaken from before. Well, he should probably try and get that detonator back for the boss, but he could hardly leave this guy to run around in case he pulled some similar shit. At least he shouldn't take much to deal with. He was pretty obviously not on the same level as the others. He almost pitied him for that, really. Almost.

"Come on kid. Don't worry, I'll make this quick." He pushed his fringe out of his eyes nonchalantly as he stepped towards him. He didn't have time to hang about, and unfortunately his cloth was gone, so a kick to the head should do it.

The Academy of the Arts - Outer Theatrical hall

Mattis deftly moved his head to the side and Moira's fist whistled by his face just as his own connected with a loud 'thwack'. The woman was sent flying, crashing again into the wall. She looked as if she was unable to hear him and struggled to stand up, the previous fight having taken a lot more out of her than it looked.

Still, Mattis took her earlier words to heart and didn't take his gaze off of the woman, instead darting forward and pinning her arms to the side. To be honest the look in her eye scared him, but he was loathe to leave someone in such an unstable and volatile temper in case she ended up accidentally attacking her own friends again. No doubt she'd blame that on him too. Perhaps he shouldn't be focusing all his attention on this crazy lady and make a break for the door now that the girl was down, but if he didn't like the idea of her rampaging among her own. At least he could take a few punches unlike lightning rod guy.

She struggled against her weight, but he stared firmly through the holes of his mask, mouth pressed in a small frown.

"Calm down," he repeated firmly, emphasizing every word slowly. "you're a danger to everyone. Deep breathes, woman."

Academy of the Arts: Performance Hall

So Dalia had this planned from the near start? Heh, that was amazing.

Smart, cute, and tough! He made a mental note to ask Dylan about her when everything was over. Lucien grinned from ear to ear when the masked phantom dropped his remote and he nearly laughed when Marcus sent the man flying. Things were finally going their way!

Dylan cheered them on and Lucien turned to face his friend.

"'Course we can," he pumped both fists into the air, suddenly looking like a giddy child. "We'll have you thieves know!" He pulled out another card, "we bested a demon." His smug expression turned into a mischievous one as a puff of smoke appeared above everyone's heads.

A tiny blackbird began soaring above the fight, it circled around Jay and let out a crap bomb.

Lucien laughed, "it's time to fight dirty!"

Xan was staggering to her feet when she saw the scene unfold. Uhhh, Jay packed a punch but she wasn't ready to call it a day yet. The girl swayed from side to side for a moment before her eyes flitted to Jay and Angel. EH? Did Lucien summon a bird to poop on the guy to distract him? Well, that was certainly an odd fighting style. The metallurgist steadied herself then watched as the angry bird circled around Jay. It would poop whenever it flew past his head, and if Angel hadn't been on the ground, she would have paused to laugh at the thief's misfortune.

"Wow...thanks Lucien." Xan dashed past Jay, practically hauling Angel up by the collar of his shirt while she did so. The poor guy was getting yanked around quite a lot today, wasn't he? She skidded to a stop when they were out of hitting range. "Sorry about that, I hope you're okay."

---

Man, that old stinker was really persistent!

Fabian dove behind the cleric in an attempt to use her as a human shield, but Lute wouldn't stop trying to catch him, so he made a run for it. However, before he could get away the pole suddenly expanded between them and he was sent reeling back, coughing and sputtering as he did so.

The boy looked over his shoulder and gave Miffy a worried glance. That angry lady was so CUSSING SCARY.

"Oi, Miffy!" Fabian was hopping around so Lute couldn't catch him. "Let's just go join MP! I'm sure he was everyone bowing before him in the theater or sumthin'" To be honest, he felt cornered and he didn't have any tricks left. "Let's just go!" He stated before mustering up a cheeky grin. He blew a raspberry at Lute then made a mad dash for the performance hall.

He rushed through the doors, but the scenario inside froze him in place.

The masked phantom had actually been knocked into a wall?!? No...no, he didn't know what to do anymore so he dove behind one of the chairs and observed, maybe he could find his bag of tricks then pop up and retaliate! Yeah, that would be the plan for now.

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall, Exterior

The brat slipped through and there was nothing he could do about that, but with the amount of Guilders already wreaking chaos inside that theater…

“Miss Amy!” Lute, with a hand held over his stomach, grunted as he threw that accursed pole away. Right after it snapped like that, it reverted to its tinier form and the virtuoso didn’t want any contingencies to play while he was carrying it. “We need to get you to Estelle!” He growled out. The swordswoman still seemed to be unconscious and he was getting more and more worried with her injury. What if her nose caved in and she drowned in her own blood!? Granted, he only read about that kind of injury happening in gang wars… In novels… A-anyway! It wasn’t supposed to go like this! It was a 5 vs. 2 match!

Bunnyface was blocking the way and…

What the hell? Was he giving some sort of pep talk to Moira!?

“Get your hands off her!” Lute hollered, “Haven’t you had enough!?” What if he was trying to crush her head between those boulder hands of his!? Damn dude had a weirdass rabbit mask on, who knew if he was some serial killer before the donned that thing! The virtuoso ran towards his sword and ducked, picking it up before skidding near the half-open theater doors. He pulled it shut and covered the entryway like a sentinel, his hands shaking as the (psychotic) rabbit man turned his head to look at the source of the yell. Oh Gods… What if he really was a murderer!? What if that mask was made from the skin of his victims and… According to Lucien, there could only be one reason why a person could be as strong as Moira or Bunnyface; he was like that because he sacrificed souls to the haunted spoon!

... Well you know what, he wasn’t doing any dying unless Ruana told him to! “I’m not afraid of you!” Lute yelled again and slid into a defensive stance.

This would be a good time for Amy to sneak off and help whoever she deemed currently needed her magic the most…

---

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall

“Fabbee! Just the very person I needed!”

The young thief’s entry into the theater didn’t go unnoticed and Francesca ran towards him, a cocoon made of dark vines thrashing vigorously as it dragged behind her. “Take care of her for me, will you?” Before Fabian could even protest, a weaponless Trixie was unrolled from her bindings and flung at him as the woman headed towards Jay.

That scuffle between the pasty artist and the Masked Phantom… The detonator falling from their leader’s hands… A bird ejecting feces as it circled overhead… Merde! What a disastrous, infuriating set of events!

Francesca leapt over one of the seats ripped from their places by the Phantom’s attacks, and her shadows lashed out and wrapped around the chair. Once she was back on her feet she spun around; the long, slender branches of grapnel whipped through the air and the chair on its end struck both Xandra and Angel. The two fell to the ground, either from the hit or the surprise or maybe even both, and Francesca brought a hand to her forehead, feeling the beginnings of an intense migraine. The shadows emanating from her back hissed and dissipated in response to her tension. When things don’t go as planned her head starts to pound and this situation? It was just an endless nightmare full of cats that were riddled with fleas and birds more than happy to share their excretions with the world.

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts - Theater Hall (Outside)

Next thing Amy knew, the little runt appeared behind her and tried to nab her staff. She had gotten used to Trixie pulling pranks like this and knew just what to react with - a motherly slap on the face - but thankfully for Lute's intervention it didn't come down to that. Instead both boys were knocked to the ground due to the virtuoso's clumsiness.

Amy let out a deep sigh through her nose as Lute stood himself and iterated just what was on her mind. The lighting from Amy's gem dimmed just a tad as she extended an arm to Estelle's direction. After taking Moira's hit, Amy couldn't allow her to remain down like this. Estelle's body glowed a warm, golden hue, along with Amy's own.

At this point, the younger thief had made a dash for the performance hall. Twitching her lips, Amy allowed the light her gem gave off to die down and she chased after the boy. The bodies of both Syed and Moira glowed a very faint golden before Lute shut the door between groups; there was no way those two could keep up with the vigor after all they had been through but if Amy could at least keep their injuries and fatigue as numbed as possible, she would.

Lute might be a weird one, but Amy had faith he and Estelle could keep the tall one at bay. Syed and Estelle's sword should help with their lighting. She hated the thought of leaving them behind like this, especially after leaving Rose the same way, but if they were all struggling against two thieves they outnumbered, who knew who else inside needed her help?

---

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts - Theater Hall

Voices - voices everywhere! Suddenly that whiny blue-haired kid and some dude she didn't know stepped into the fray, themselves shielded within her smog as well. This was just great. If it weren't for these meddling buttholes she might've had a clear-cut shot at that lady, but now there was too much risk she'd blindly shoot at someone who wasn't her! She remained crouched low with ears open, listening again for a feminine voice... before that was cut off by even more voices.

Ugh! Her plan backfired! And it was such a good one too. During her confusion she found herself bounded by something, causing her to drop her guns a second time, before she was thrown out of the smokey screen towards Fabian. She crashed right into him, knocking both of them to the ground.

Trixie quickly got back on her feet once she realized just who she had crashed into, though the dizziness nearly sent her landing on her butt again. "You! Stop being everywhere and let us win for once!"

She might not have had her guns, but she had enough pep in her to tackle Fabian, swiping at his face with her gloved hands like they were fiesty cat claws.

---

Jay loosened his grip. Good, good, that gave him a chance to breathe. All he had to do was wriggle himself out of the thief's grasp while he was still distracted - but still the aristocrat stood no match. Xandra luckily caught note of this and went for the punch... only to land a hit square in Angel's face. While it was enough to knock him out of Jay's hold, Jay retaliated by knocking Xandra back to the floor. Even with Dylan's encouraging call and Angel's general smugness, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to hold up before he wiped out.

He began backing away from Jay, a determined but injured expression fixed on his face, until...

Was that... bird poop?

"Hah... hahahahaha!" Angel fell onto his back and rolled to the side in laughter. He didn't even notice that Xandra had pulled him up until he stopped to breathe. When they had stopped running from Jay, now closer to Trixie's side of the playing field but just far enough from her smog, Angel fell into a chair, still having flits of chuckling. Today was just too much.

"You're really... hahaha! You're really, saving my life today. Can I, take you out to dinner after this or something? Please?" Perhaps that'd make up for her punching him on accident. Angel's expression had calmed back down to one of smugness, although his eye was scrunched shut from the earlier hit. He rubbed a tear from it - though whether that was from pain or laughter, even he didn't know.

His eyes widened suddenly. Was that... a chair? Flying right at them!?

"Watch out!" He threw Xandra out of the way in time and fell over as well, just in time to dodge death by furniture. Even without the impact that could've had, the landing was still rough and Angel groaned loudly in agony. The pain, however, subsided just as spontaneously as the killer chair had shown up. Both Angel's and Xandra's bodies were encased in a warm, golden aura, thanks to Amy.

Still on the floor in fetal position, Angel could only pray that his sister was safe in the midst of all this chaos.

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Theatre Hall

“Back off, you!” A scream echoed throughout the gigantic theatre hall, and it was with wide surprised eyes that Francesca quickly backed away in time to avoid the two knives stabbing the ground in front of her. She spun on the spot to see Aria approaching in her direction, but keeping a safe distance away, knives held ready in her hand. She had seen what Francesca had done to both Tobias and Trixie. And whilst she couldn’t necessarily complain about what the thief had done to the noble braggart, what she had done to Trixie, and what she had tried to do to Xandra and Angel, burned her. She was as encouraged as the rest of the Pride thanks to Dalia and Dylan’s actions and words, and she wouldn’t be left behind in this fight either!

“Try picking on someone your own size!” Aria flung another knife.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Performance Hall, sprawled out in-between a row of seats, Xandra and Angel slowly began to rise to their feet, as Jay continued to sidestep to and fro out of the way of incoming missiles. He glanced up into the air and glared at the blackbird flapping above him. Were they… were they serious? They had to be joking, right? What on Ddaear was it about himself that made people not take him seriously?!



And further down the centre of the Hall, in-between both of the developing fracases either side of the Hall’s central aisle, Dylan and Marcus (alongside Lucien’s prone body) stood opposed against the Masked Phantom, whom was slowly recovering and rising to his feet again, after being savagely blown back by Marcus’ attack. This time, the thief was enraptured with anger and venom. After everything that had happened so far, everything that had developed in this fight… for it to turn out like this… it simply would not do.

If they wanted to see him mad…

Gusts of wind formed outwards from his feet, billowing harder and faster, his long blonde locks waving behind his face, the edges of his coat flapping behind him. Scattered pieces of wooden debris from the stage were picked up and flung into the air around him, along with the rest of the stage itself, the wooden panelling being ripped and sucked into the vortex surrounding him.

If they wanted to see him mad, well… they got it.




“You did good, Dylan,” Marcus patted the Matter Artist’s shoulder as he slowly walked down the aisle towards the stage. “Don’t give up now.”

Dylan grinned. “Of course not, Marcus. We haven’t even started! We’re going to rain crap all over their parade!”

“That’s not what I meant.” Marcus said, glancing to the chalk held in Dylan’s hand. His eyes then flicked to Dylan’s, as he emphasised very clearly what he meant. “Don’t give up. Just because your slate’s gone… doesn’t mean you can’t use your magic, does it?”

He then jogged away from Dylan, wind whipping around his own body. He raised his staff in the air, and one by one the Pride and students of the Aliquam Academy were engulfed by a bright green glow, their agility greatly enhanced for a short duration. At the same time, the splintered wooden planks spiralling around the Masked Phantom began to fire outwards one at a time, aimed directly at the approaching Marcus. Each were repelled and sent flying away to crash and shatter against the far walls by Marcus’ own wind shield.

His body then disappeared after his crouching knees pushed off from the ground. He reappeared in front of the Masked Phantom, standing to face him. The Masked Phantom growled.

“So!” He shouted. “You think you’re some sort of master of wind magic?!” The thief angrily declared. “You’ve seen nothing yet!”

The wind whipped even more angrily outwards from the thief, to encapsulate the entire theatre hall and disrupting the battles of everyone else inside. Lucien’s blackbird struggled to stay aloft in the chaotic wind streams, as more and more chairs were ripped off from their bearings to circle about the Masked Phantom. The chandeliers hanging from the ceilings above were torn from their fixtures, and they too began to spiral about the Masked Phantom ever developing vortex. Within seconds, the Pride was gripped within an indoor hurricane. A hurricane that caused cracks to form along all of the room’s walls, and small crevices and chinks to chip free.

“Rarrrghhhh!” The Masked Phantom’s body pulsed with emerald energy, and as if by random, but actually with acute accuracy, these dangerous weapons that were once a part of the room shot outwards – a chair, chandelier, part of the stage or anything else – all aimed at members of the Pride.

And as all of this happened, Dylan crouched low to Lucien, holding the summoner’s prone bodies close to his body with one arm wrapped around him to shield him. The other held onto his chalk… a small white stick that Dylan intensely focused upon and stared at.

He then looked down at the ground, and began to draw.

The Academy of the Arts - Outer Theatrical hall
"I don't understand you," Syed ventured as he clumsily stood up. Moira continued to struggle despite the man's words, although she was looking him in the eye now. Or at least, as much as she could when he was wearing a silly rabbit mask. "If you're so concerned about people's wellbeing.... why are you doing this?"

The mage glanced back to Lute as he stood by the door then back to Mattis. He didn't trust himself to aim at things anymore, which as an electromage didn't really leave him many options. So instead he simply buckled down, hands raised. What choice did he have? Powering the lights would just leave him a sitting duck.

He instead resolved that if Mattis made any move to go for Lute, he'd grab him. While he knew fully well that almost everyone outclassed him with strength... you didn't need to aim to electrocute someone you were touching. It might be the last thing he did, but he couldn't let the man who had smashed so many of them down to go in there and finish the job.

Except... something felt off. He felt a force, an overwhelming power from behind the doors. The look on his face made it obvious to anyone who didn't even know him.

It frightened him.

Quite suddenly the double doors blew open, followed by Moira cursing as the spit she was aiming at Mattis' face blew back and hit her back in the eye. Syed found himself gripping the wall he was stood next to, trying not to be blown over. There was no way any of them could get in there, not with the force of the hurricane blowing in there. It was like a wall of wind, preventing entry or exit.

"Lute?! Estelle?!" he called out against the winds which buffeted at them even all the way back here. At least they weren't in the middle of it, like... like Amy who had just ran in there. Like the others, like Trixie, like maybe Lucien... no. He had to trust them. He had to trust they'd be okay.

Please.

---

The Academy of the Arts - Performance Hall
Jay simply stood up amongst the billowing winds, one hand holding onto his hat to ensure it remained on his head. His expression seemed as calm and level as always. Sure, his nose was still pouring blood like no tomorrow, and the wind was really hurting it, but he still looked cool. Right? Well. It looked like they had pissed the boss off now. He had never seen him so angry.

He knew the boss would win though. No way some pretty faced kid in a fancy robe could match him, the boss was one of the most powerful people he had ever met.

So instead he turned and began to stride forwards, scouring the aisles of seats.

After all, there was still that tracker girl with the detonator to smoke out.

Academy of the Arts: Performance Hall

What had he walked into? He had never seen their boss so angry. What the cuss? Were these guilders really that good? Fabian peered at it all from behind his hiding spot and he would have continued gaping if not for granny's familiar voice.

“Fabbee! Just the very person I needed!”

"Grandma—augh wait what?" Before he could even ask her about what she needed, the brat who stole his weapons was dumped into his hands. "OIIIIIII!" Fabian wanted to complain, but he didn't really have much of a choice. The girl instantly latched onto him and began clawing at his face. "GO AWAY!" He tried to pry Trixie off but he was stuck between rows of seats so instead of shoving her off the boy toppled over.

"GET THE CUSS OFF ME!" He made a couple of horrendous faces before finally managing to push her off. Their scratch fight pretty much turned into the manliest slap fest the world had ever seen. "Where did you put my stuff?" He threatened before unleashing a flick attack on her forehead. "Tell me or I'll pull your hair!" He turned several shades of ever, clearly, very, very upset. "Or maybe I'll take your stuff too!"



Dinner? This wasn't exactly a good time to ask. Xan looked him over for injuries, there didn't seem to be anything major, but the poor guy did look like he was out of his element. It must have been terrible, getting ready for an exhibition only to have everything completely ruined. The students of the academy had sure been thrown into an unfortunate chain of events. "It's our job, don't worry about it," she gave him a sympathetic tap on the shoulder then mustered up a kind smile, "but I don't see why not." Xan swiveled around so her attention was focused on the masked phantom. "In the meantime though, let's focus on taking this guy down—what?"

And once again they were sprawled out on the floor. Xan gritted her teeth, her eyes flitting to the chair that nearly knocked them out. They were all going to be sore tomorrow, that was for sure. She pushed herself up, a warm glow encasing her body as she did so. "Thanks you two." The girl rose to her feet only to duck when another chair flew overhead. The masked phantom was very, very upset and she watched with wide eyes as seats were torn out of their rows and sent flying through the room.

Had that been the source of the flying chair? She heard Aria yelling and her eyes flitted towards her friend and Frances. It'd be too dangerous to cross the room at the moment. "Aria, watch out for the chairs!" She yelled before once again ducking behind the row in front of her. "Amy, Angel, keep your heads low." How long would it be before the very chairs before them were sent flying as well? Just how strong was this thief?



The blackbird flapped its wings as hard as it could, but the wind only grew stronger.

Lucien ended his connection with the summon and he found himself back in his head. "Crap, Dylan. This guy is freaking powerful!" Chairs were flying overhead, some crashing against the opposite walls at outrageous speed. If that so much as smashed into their heads, well, he was pretty sure he'd collapse. EH? Even pieces of the stage were being torn and launched into the air.

They were lucky they had Marcus to counter stuff at some extent. Wind sure was scary...

The summoner ducked behind a chair before his eyes flitted to Dylan's work. "Hey, hey, what are you planning to draw?" Lucien gave Dylan an encouraging tap on the back. "Whatever it is, give this guy hell, yeah? Show him what the best painter in Aliquam can do." Sure, flying shrapnel looked frightening but after Dylan's encouragements there was no way they were losing to this Masked Phantom!

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall

“Try picking on someone your own size!”

How rude, they were almost the same height and body type… Save for, well… Francesca narrowed her eyes and one of her hands reformed and shot forward to deflect the knife. “Did you mean someone that can actually compete with my figure?” The rogue snapped back, far too incensed by the madness going on to ignore Aria, “For if you applied the same creed to yourself, you would only be able to fight with little girls!”

But then, the tension between their leader and the other wind mage rose to new heights, and she forgot the slight quickly enough.

The wind tore through the room, ripping up chairs and panels as it went. Francesca’s eyes widened in shock and her finger immediately went to her communicator. “Fabian! Please, please leave this place! Mattis, are you there? Can you hear me?” She knew that the Masked Phantom meant to hurt the Guilders, but she didn’t want to take any chances. If push came to shove, she would stay here and search for the detonator but…!

Thick vines tore from Francesca’s shoulder blades, gripping on tightly to the handful of chairs still rooted to their place as she forded through in search for Dahlia. As she moved she kept glancing at the furniture their leader had gathered, her grapnel growing taut like exposed muscles as she considered the severity of the wounds those would inflict on the Guilders…

She hoped the gunner would be all right.

And amidst the winds that howled and whipped she remained, her black dress billowing around her ankles as she shielded her eyes with her arm. If Jay was spreading himself thin looking for that priestess, then she wasn't just going to wait around and consider her safety! That said, Francesca gritted her teeth and her shadows lashed out, reaching further for a handhold as she surged onwards.

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Theatre Hall

“For if you applied the same creed to yourself, you would only be able to fight with little girls!”

Oh heeeeeeell naw.

Aria fumed, fist clenched. Yes the thief had much bigger... Assets than she did, but a bigger chest booty did not mean that she was inferior. She wasn't jealous at all- who wanted water balloons slapping their face when they jumped or ran?

The two women's spat was quickly interrupted, much to Aria's annoyance as she had a few choice words she has wanted to share, but the illusionist was forced back to avoid being sucked up in the twister of shrapnel that had formed in the middle of the room. She gripped tightly to one of the theatre chairs that hasdn't been ripped up from here it was bolted, watching in frustration as the woman grappled her way through the wind with what looked to be thick tendrils of darkness.

She barely made out Xan's warning before hitting the floor just as a barrage of chairs zoomed past overhead. Yet she kept her focus on the woman; Marcus would be trying to counter the Phantom's magic and he certainly didn't need any distractions. Aria grappled her way after the thief, using whatever hasn't flown off yet to drag herself closer against the typhoon.

---

The Academy of the Arts - Outer Theatrical hall

Mattis took his eye off of the woman for a second, blinking at the yelling swordsman. He looked rather disturbed and scared despite how he shouted he wasn't, confusing the larger man greatly. Did he look like a psycho or something? Granted the mask he wore wasn't very fitting of a man his stature, but his siblings had said it was cute.

His stare shifted back to the struggling Berseker. He wasn't sure if she had calmed down any, but she did seem a bit better than before. The thief didn't bother looking to the lightning pole man when he asked a question and merely shrugged.

"Necessity and circumstance," he answered simply. The doors blew open without warnig and Marris leapt back, staring at the wall of wind and debris blocking the door. It wasn't like the boss to lose his temper like this.

Francesca's message only fueled his apprehension. He was tempted to force his way in through the wind to drag the boy out of the dangerous magic if it wasn't for the fact that the wind was too strong to get close too, and the fact that he's probably get shredded if he tried to force his way in.

"I'm still outside," he growled unhappily. "Fabi, listen to Fran. Get somewhere safe." He looked back, backing up from the woman who was getting off the floor. Luckily the light had gone with the blonde woman, and until the girl got up again he was at an advantage with his mask. Unfortunately he wasn't in a good position to attack any of them- go for one and the other two would pounce on him. Instead he stepped back, ready to dodge anything they might throw at him in order to buy some time.

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Outer Theatrical Hall

“Uhn… what… hit… me…?”

Propped against one of the Academy’s Northern sector’s corridor walls, Estelle’s eyelids fluttered open with dark spots in her eyes as she awoke to a dull, aching pain shooting through her head. She instantly recalled what had happened to her, her failed attempt to attack the giant Mattis resulting in the accidental smack by Moira’s fist. Dull agony washed over her, and she rolled her head from side to side, hoping to part the spots away and find where the others were. The pain wasn’t as pronounced as it had been before, thanks to Amy’s healing before she departed for the Theatre Hall, but her whole body still hurt, and she couldn’t bring herself to move, no matter what.

She saw Moira and Syed to the side, pinned down by Mattis, and groaned. Lute shouted out to their side, hoping to draw the thief’s attention away from the downed pair, and aimed instead towards him, his sword raised in a defensive stance. Out of the entire corridor group, he was the only one left.

Damnit Moira, Estelle’s mind groaned. Why the hell are you so strong?

“Get your hands off her!” Lute hollered, “Haven’t you had enough!? I’m not afraid of you!”

And then the doors to the Theatre Hall, situated in-between where Lute and Estelle lay on one side, and Moira, Syed and Mattis on the other, exploded outwards in a shower of fragments.

---

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Theatre Hall

The battle within between the Masked Phantom and the Pride was starting to take its toll, as the aristocratic dressed thief drew his full might and mastery of the wind to assail everyone inside, and leave no one unaffected by his calamitous hurricane. Whilst the ripped apart chairs, lights, flooring and other fixtures revolved around him and were sent hurtling out with frightening accuracy towards the Guilders, even his companions in Jay, Francesca and Fabian found it difficult to not be bowled over to the ground by the whipping wind.

None of them had ever seen the Masked Phantom enraged like this before. Normally, he was the cool and confident, expert thief they had always known and taken part on missions with- the man whom, once making a mark, always pulled through in achieving his goal and making away with his target steal. No other job before this had required this much effort or difficulty… and no other job had prompted a reaction quite like this from their leader before.

No other job had them facing the Pride.



“Nngh…” Dalia huddled as best she could behind one of the chairs, wrapping her body as small and tightly as she could, holding the detonator close to her chest. She had managed to stop him from making good on his threat to use their planted explosives throughout her Academy, but she couldn’t help but sit there in fright that the Masked Phantom just might destroy the entire Academy anyway. The way the winds whipped about the Masked Phantom the way he did also helped to serve as a shield… it was a perfect offence and defence. Oh Aislin, how could they prevail?

And stalking dangerously close to her… only a few scant rows away… was him… Jay, intending on taking back their detonator…



“Oh jiminy creepers, why did I leave the dorm?” Simon wailed to himself across the other side, poking his head up gingerly to look about the chaos enveloped performance hall. A piece of wood whipped around and smacked him in the head.

“Fabian! Please, please leave this place! Mattis, are you there? Can you hear me?” Francesca’s voice screeched into the young thief’s ear, as he hip hopped away from his slap fight with Trixie thanks to the pull of the wind around him.

"I'm still outside," Mattis growled unhappily from outside, his eyes transfixed on the devastated doors and upon Lute whom he knew glowered at him from within the darkness. "Fabi, listen to Fran. Get somewhere safe."

The young thief frowned. He had done a lot of running away already, and losing of fights, and he didn’t like it. Cussing cuss, the Masked Phantom wouldn’t be happy…! But… but he was also being really scary right now. Looking far down the Hall, at the stage below, illuminated by the whipping of flares circling around him… the Masked Phantom didn’t look altogether there. He looked… frightening. Should he run? Could he? But what about the others? He couldn’t just abandon them, could he? Could-



“You, brat,” An angry voice spat from behind him, and Fabian was suddenly yanked up into the air by the back of his collar. He thrashed about to no avail. “Maybe having you captured will stop that bitch and repulsive man you look up to.” Tobias glared at the young child, his knife shimmering in his hand. He wouldn’t actually hurt a child… even Tobias had his limits. But holding Fabian hostage sure seemed like a good idea to him.

It was too bad that the sheer ferocity of the winds about them and their deafening roar made it impossible for anyone to say or shout something and be heard. Impossible for anyone, except…

The Masked Phantom, whose roaring voice was carried across the wind like a vengeful god.

“WELL, IGNORANT CLODS?” The Masked Phantom spat. “IS THIS NOT ENOUGH? NOT ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU PEASANTS UNDERSTAND WHAT IS HAPPENING? YOU CANNOT STOP US. CANNOT OVERCOME US!!”

“I HAVE HELD BACK UP UNTIL NOW… I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE ANYONE’S LIFE. BUT ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! GIVE UP AND LEAVE, OR I’LL DESTROY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!”



“Enough,” Marcus, who stood before him, sighed. He waved his hand in the air, and the raging winds subsided instantaneously. Objects that were being carried by the hurricane’s winds collapsed to the grounds with a clatter. The Masked Phantom recoiled, taken aback in sheer surprise and disbelief at such an action. It was impossible. His magic, his power, his control of the winds… it was too skilled, too precise, for this to happen… with a wave of his hand, he… how…?

Marcus shook his head from side to side, turning and walking away from the thief. “You’ve caused nothing but trouble for my friends and their home. And for what? Absolutely nothing. Stealing the Academy itself… are you an idiot or what?”

The Masked Phantom snapped, rushing forwards, charging at Marcus’ exposed back-

And the ground between them shone with a bright white glow, a magical circle forming in the space between them with an ethereal light, one matched by the crouching Matter Artist ahead.



Dylan’s chalk finished scraping along the floor, and his other hand was placed firmly upon the ground itself. This wasn’t easy… in fact it was so much harder then it was when he used his slate… but Dylan now realised, after trying and concentrating very hard… that it was possible. He could still use his magic.

And this was the last shot.

A large mass grew out from within the circle, growing and taking shape at an angle aimed directly at the Masked Phantom. His eyes widened in staggered surprise at the growing object, that quickly took shape as a giant, statue fist, before he was slammed full force by it in the gut, and pushed backwards by the still growing and growing summon. Everyone inside the theatre hall watched in stunned silence, their mouths left agape.

The giant stone fist crashed against the stage’s far wall, with the Masked Phantom in-between them, and powered straight through, breaking out onto the northern grounds beyond. The Masked Phantom’s body dropped from the statue as it slowly came to a final stop and dissipation, the thief’s unconscious body collapsing onto the courtyard gardens outside.

Light from the full moon hanging above outside shone through the giant hole left through the Academy wall, bathing the rest of the Theatre Hall and its occupants with visibility.

Dylan, still crouched, huffed and puffed with his rising and falling chest, sweat dripping from his body. He looked on at the hole he had made, and the man he had defeated, and he grinned before collapsing forwards himself besides Lucien, his magical stamina completely exhausted.

“Have that, you son of a bitch.”

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts - Theater Hall

As per Xandra's suggestion, Angel remained buckled down as well; he was already hurting too much to even contemplate getting back on his feet anyway, but so long as he and the chick guilder were safe from where they remained, furniture and anything else with a killer instinct in this hurricane would have a much more difficult time reaching them. Any fights nearby them had been interrupted due to the heavy winds - hell, he could barely even make out what on earth the Masked Phantom was saying.

Everything stopped in an instant. Whatever had been hurled in the air came crashing down; Angel muttered his gratitude in a foreign tongue as he released his head from his clutches. He eyed Xandra to make sure she was okay before reaching for the (stable) chair nearest to him and pulling himself up to see what was going on. The glasses'ed guilder stood with his hands in the air as he calmly chastised the surprised Phantom.

He turned to Xandra again, wanting to inquire about what this could mean, but the moment he looked away the entire room was sent rumbling. Angel nearly dropped back to the floor, only to see the giant hole caused from Dylan's creation beyond Xandra's head. His mouth gaped open slightly, though he quickly caught himself by bringing a fist to his mouth and coughing into it. Angel had heard so much about Dylan's mastery at art before he left Aliquam for the guild - but nothing to this extent about what kind of power he wielded within his ability to practically speed paint. Seeing the giant, statue fist spoke volumes about just what the artist was capable of. The aristocrat shook his head in disbelief.

"Does this mean... we've won?"

His eyes flitted to Francesca and Jay next, who were just across where he and Xandra were huddled. It didn't seem like the Phantom would be coming back. At least, Angel hoped it would remain that way. Would the other thieves back down now?

---

Trixie was undeterred by Fabian's antics as she continued to bark back with her own, ignoring the boy's threats. However once the maelstrom kicked up, her eyes widened as her hands went to clamp down on the beanie atop her head. Being on top of the kid meant she was in more danger of flying off, and she scrunched her eyes in trepidation. Suddenly she found herself plucked off the brat and huddled by the backside of the chairs nearest to them, with an arm wrapped around her backside to keep her down - Amy.

"Ames!?" Trixie called out, unaware that the cleric had even entered into the room. But Amy remained unresponsive, instead focusing on keeping herself and the prankster buckled down. Especially with her own pigtails flapping into her face, Trixie could not even bother to look back towards Fabian. He had the upper hand in their duel now thanks to Amy swiping up Trixie and holding down a defensive stance - but Tobias too intervened before Fabian could even respond on time.

A bright glow caught the duo's attention next, as they were able to catch it from their peripherals. Trixie called out to Amy, questioning if she had anything to do with the brightness, though Amy again said nothing. She bit her lower lip. If this was how chaotic all their magicry could get, these thieves were going to get everybody including themselves killed--

Then the winds just... stopped. Marcus had spoken up next, scolding the thief leader. But before the girls could even figure out just what was going on, a giant fist came out of nowhere and beat the pants off of the MP by blasting him through a hole in the theater's wall. Yeah, no big deal. They had two summoners on their side so it wasn't like this was out of the ordinary or anything. Right? Well, Amy thought otherwise, as she continued to stare at the creation with her jaw hanging. Judging from Dylan's position from afar, he must have been the one who... but that kind of power, he couldn't possibly be...

"Aaaa-hah!" Trixie threw herself away from Amy's loosened grasp, scrambling to get back on her feet. Though Tobias and Fabian weren't even looking in her direction, Trixie stood tall on her two feet and, panting heavily, pointed a finger in Fabian's direction. "How many times we gotta knock it into you that you lose! You should--"

"Trixie," Amy called, still looking away to the manhole. "That's enough."

The Academy of the Arts - Performance Hall
Wait... what? Jay stopped in his tracks, putting an arm in front of his face to try and shield his eyes from the wind. Did the boss just threaten to kill them? It was just that, right? A threat? He looked back to where the boss was, trying to make him out among the chaos.

Right now, the Masked Phantom scared him just as much as anyone else. A whirlwind of fury had never been a more appropriate term. And for a moment, a very brief moment... Jay wondered if this was the same man he thought he knew. The same man he owed so much to.

And just as suddenly, it was over. The wind was gone, the boss was defeated...

Jay looked down. He'd found her. The girl with the detonator. He stood over her for a moment, his eyes in shadow. They could still do this. The boss had trained them all after all, and the man who summoned the monstrous, terrifying fist thing seemed to have had it. And this girl, just curled up in a ball like that... taking it from her should be childs play.

So why was he stricken with so much indecision? He sucked through his teeth, bringing his fingers to his earpiece. "...I can't do this, my dears," he said, his words sounding strained. "They're a persistant bunch of assholes, and I don't think any of us signed up for killing anybody."

He locked eyes with Francesca, his beloved Francesca, although he kept his communications open to everyone. "I'm sorry. I think this is over." He extended his arm towards her, his palm open. An apology. "I think we should retreat. Although Mattis, Fabian seems to be a bit... stuck."

---

The Academy of the Arts - Outer Theatrical hall
Was... was it over? Syed stared at the destroyed door, unnerved by the silence within. He didn't know. It was so sudden! He looked back to Mattis with wide eyes. Did this mean the Phantom was down... or did it mean Marcus was? He had powerful wind magic too. He wasn't... the Phantom hadn't... brilliant bolts of electricity leapt from his body as he fretted. No!

Moira pulled herself up, swaying on the spot. It was taking all she had to remain standing. She took one slow, agonising step forward towards Mattis, then another, then another. "You sure like to hang back, huh..." she hissed. Another swaying step. "Especially for a guy who beat me twice. Even if you did it by being a dirty bastard." Oh. So she still wasn't admitting it was partly her own fault. She made one final, stumbling step.

"Still can't let you through though. My friends are relying on me." She coughed, before standing in his way. Although with how beat up she was, even Moira knew it was a hollow gesture. "You gotta go through me."

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall

When the wind intensified, Francesca had no choice but to duck for cover behind a row of seats. Her worst fears were realized when more and more chairs were uprooted from the floor, the nails pinning them down flying through the air like shrapnel. One even grazed past her left cheek. Her grapnel shot out, trying to deflect or catch objects that were hurtling too close, but with the staggering amount of potential weapons whipping around...

'Please stop... This isn't you.'

The Masked Phantom was battered out of the room by a giant construct after the hurricane he had summoned was dispelled by the other wind mage. The fixtures sent flying around the room froze in their places before clattering to the floor, all except the ones near and above Xandra and Angel. These ones were gently lowered by trembling vines of shadow, ones that retreated balefully to a figure shrouded in black, almost completely unrecognizable thanks to the sheer amount of tendrils that had sprouted from her arms.

Before most of the objects were even laid down properly, the shadows gave out and their user let out a weary gasp. Francesca doubled over with her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers pressing hard against her sides as she gulped in a lungful of the cold night air. She forced herself up and took a step back, disoriented, when Jay’s voice came through the earpiece. They shared a glance and Francesca smiled gently, and then nodded. He offered his hand to the priestess cowering in front of him.

“… Mattis, Fabian. Stand down. Our mission objectives have changed. Jay and I will assist the leader and find a way out. Mattis, I trust you will find a way to escape along with Fabian… Neither of you will return for us unless I have given you the order to, comprenez-vous? Now go,” Francesca murmured into the communicator, suppressing the pain looming from within her temples as she spoke. Oh Gods…

---

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall, Exterior

“I’m here to fight you too!” Lute cried out as he swayed from one foot to another. With his place in front of the entrance, the doors exploding actually sent him flying past Mattis. “Okay, scratch that, I’m not really… Ugh,” The virtuoso mumbled, “Gimme a minute. There’s birds everywhere.”

Bunnyface seemed cool for a psycho anyway, so what’s a few requests?

"You gotta go through me." Moira said.

Delilah wasn’t about to let Lute go to sleep after that. ‘Oi, kid. You gonna let the big red lady take a few more hits in that state of hers!? Get up, you limp chicken!’ She screeched and after a few more of different, yet still scathing, lines Lute had lost the peace of mind to wander off to dreamland.

He swung his sword and readied, then charged at the thief.

Except he failed to notice a rock jutting out from the courtyard soil and tripped, skidding to a stop a few feet away from Mattis.

Academy of the Arts: Performance Hall

At this rate, someone could get seriously injured, or If worse comes to worst then someone could actually get killed.

Sharp pieces of wood and glass zipped through the air while chairs crashed into walls at a dizzying speed. Xan gritted her teeth, crossing the room now wouldn't be safe for anyone. The masked phantom had lost it and their lives were now in danger.

Marcus did something and as soon as he had the winds miraculously died down.

Things began clattering to the ground and she heard Lucien yelling? "Oi, oi look out!"

Xan looked up only to see chairs and all sorts of broken things begin to falls, but before she could even yell for Angel to move or react, dark tendrils grabbed onto the items and pulled them away. Her eyes instantly darted to Frances and she stood still, baffled by the turn of events. Why did the thief save them? She didn't have time to think that through because the next thing they knew a giant statue came forth and knocked the mask phantom straight through the wall.

"Dylan, that was grand!" Lucien held his friend steady, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face. The masked phantom didn't come back, heh, it was a rock solid hit. "Hey, I never knew you could make stuff that moved on its own." He held the matter artist steady and laughed, now that the leader was out, it was over, right?

Xan kept her eyes focused on the hole in the wall. "It looks like it, but we can't let our guard down just yet."



Fabian was scared out of his wits, but if there was one thing he wasn't going to do, it was run away!

He wasn't going to cussing leave them! Frances, Jay, Miffy, and the masked phantom were the closest thing to family he had. So when the giant statue practically punched his leader and idol through a wall, it took him all his willpower to stop himself from crying.

"NO! NO! I'M NOT LEAVING!" He squirmed in Tobias' grasp. He could make out Trixie's yelling but it didn't matter. "GET YOUR CUSSING HANDS OFF ME!" He kicked wildly before his foot caught Tobias right in the family jewels.

The man dropped him and as soon as his feet hit the ground, he made a run for Jay and Fran.

He wasn't leaving them behind...they were family after all.

The Academy of the Arts - Outer Theatrical hall

"Still can't let you through though. My friends are relying on me."

Persistent woman. Mattis blinked as the Berserker picked herself off the floor, attention focused more on the voices coming through his communicator. He agreed with Jay- It was time to cut their losses and retreat. These guilders were a stubborn bunch for sure.

"It's over." He sighed, running a large hand through his unkempt hair. A loud thump behind him made him turn, only to see Lute falling face flat on the floor. Poor guy must've taken quite a fall from the explosion of wind before. He crouched down, lifting the man by the collar with no more effort as one would a puppy and setting him on his feet. It was too bad they didn't succeed, but nobody had been hurt too badly and that was good enough for him. Except for... He turned his head to the redheaded girl before giving a pointed look to the tall electric man. They had a healer, he was sure, and the mage should look to getting the girl some aid quickly.

He melded into the shadows, much to the anger of the large woman at the door and he couldn't help the twitch of his lips. They'd meet again, he was sure, and the woman would have to wait until then to pummel his lights in. He made his way out the window, setting course to reunite with his friends. Still, he couldn't help but wonder... Was a guilder's job capable of feeding twelve hungry mouths?

---

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Theatre Hall

The wind ceased without warning, the various pieces of furniture that had been flying around the room raining down onto the mostly decimated seating area below. Luckily Aria managed to avoid the incoming shrapnel and clambered up from the ground, staring in disbelief as Dylan summoned a giant stone fist that crashed through a few walls. Had the artist always been this strong? Her lips quirked up in amusement before running a hand through her hair that had been blown into a mess from the wind.

The thieves left peacefully, having decided that enough was enough. Which was more than could be said for a certain blue-haired aristocrat. She was highly amused to see that he was sporting a slight limp as he ran to where the thieves had left from as a result from a nicely aimed kick from the brat. Instead she turned to jog up to the outer hall where Lulu and his little group had been fighting. It looked as if the damaged from the wind had reached them too, the ornate doors having been blown clean off their hinges.

"Is everyone alright up there?" She called up, slightly out of breathe as she trudged up the last few steps.

Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Theatre Hall

“What… the damn… hell…” Tobias staggered backwards, gripping onto his prized jewels after they were hit for the second time. Tears began to form in his eyes as Fabian shot off, hopping over strewn about chairs and dashing across the rows of seats in the comically placed empty spots from where chairs had been ripped up, dashing as quickly as he could to the wary Francesca and Jay.

The pair, along with Mattis and Fabian, had clearly seen where enough had been enough. With the Pride’s staggering display of power and resistance, it was obvious to all that they couldn’t continue with their plans as intended… in fact it had been a botched mission entirely. If they were swift and lucky enough, they might be able to take advantage of the Pride’s own exhaustion, and be able to escape instead of face capture. They turned for the hole in the wall that Dylan’s summoning attack had created – it was their closest exit from the Academy, and fortuitously enough there were no Guilders in-between. As soon as Fabian reached Francesca she caressed his cheek, searching for injuries, before nodding to Jay and alighting for the gap left open in the wall.

And in the corridor just outside the Theatre Hall, with Moira and Lute standing defiantly against Mattis in front of the exposed doors to the hall (defiantly standing being brief for Lute before he tripped and skidded his face along the marble flooring), the gentle giant stood silent and regarded the Guilders about him. In truth, he was glad this was all over. It was a shame they couldn’t succeed in spiriting away their target… but so long as the fight was done, he was content. Too many people had gotten hurt in too bad a way. He cast a final glance towards Estelle, who still laid ragged and injured against the wall, and then turned, blending once again with the darkness and disappearing, to a very loud and frustrated screaming from Moira.

“NO!” Tobias yelled as the thieves vanished. “No, no, no! What are you all doing?!” The patron yelled, dashing down the aisle towards the hole in the wall, and slowing to a stop besides Lucien and Dylan. “You’re just… you’re just letting them get away? We can’t do that! It’s unacceptable, it’s…!”



“Enough, Tobias,” Dalia sighed, emerging from her hiding spot and walking towards Dylan, kneeling over and placing her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “It’s over. Nobody here can fight anymore. We’re all too exhausted and injured. You just need to learn when enough is enough…”

Tobias’ cheeks seemed to glow a shade of blue. He held his breath, puffing out his cheeks for an indignant swear, before exhaled heavily and slumped himself down in one of the chairs, resting his head upon his hand supported by one of the arm rests.

“Those damn peasants,” Tobias hissed. “This isn’t the end. I’ll find and catch and punish every last one of them…”



“How is he?” Marcus asked Dalia and Lucien.

Dalia smiled. “His aura’s steady and comfortable. He’s just asleep. He’s exhausted.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Marcus laughed. “I’m not surprised. He did amazingly well. Everyone did.” Marcus sighed, dropping his shoulders and creaking his neck from side to side. “But that was… tiring. How is everyone? Is everyone okay?”