Just like that the allegience of A.M.R.O's hounds shifted, a mutually benefitial agreement, the rationality of which stemmed from an Asylum's understanding of the ultimate truth. Loyalty is an abstract concept, a rational and cognitive being cannot pledge undying fidelity to a human, a frail host of self contradiction. Instead this sense of loyalty subconciously attaches itself to a trait or quality. Placing one's faith in an idea is far more assuring than gambling it on a Man, for an idea does not die nor can it deceive. Asylum's are conditioned to disregard faith in humanity and instead be loyal to but one irrefutable truth, power. When a soldier obeys a Captain, he does not salute the man but the title. Power is the governing force in A.M.R.O hence for an Asylum to shift allegience is no act of trechory, it is the adherence to power.

"Unanimous it is then?" XIII crowed as he clapped smugly, his sarcastic demeanour rather vibrant at this most fortuitous event. Even with all his foresight, Angel hadn't expected teams of such calibre to drop in, an early Christmas present as if it were. "I suppose I will let my partner debrief you all, she has a way with words..." With that said the Crimson Asylum silently took a seat, amusing himself by tapping the frame of his spectacles once more.

"Your arrival and forecasted death was A.M.R.O's contingency plan for 'code zero'." Rin's head slowly tilted towards the Asylums, her mismatched pupils darting between them. From the movement of her lips to her monotonic voice, every aspect appeared to be mechanical, void of expresion. "In the unlikely event that A.M.R.O's security is compromised, all witnesses have to ber terminated including those participating in the termination process. The probability of intrusion in the system is currently 62 percent, as such the contingency plan has been put in effect. A.M.R.O is privy to the failure of the objective, the situation authorizes mobilization of a Chrono. The estimated time for their interception... one week. Probability of evasion.....0 percent. Alternative.....location of primary threat. Source material......forbidden alchemy, disclosure of classified information. Conclusion.....primary threat unknown. Alternate conclusion.....redirect focus on Cirque du Folie and uncover the primary link. First objective.....prevention. Second objective......intrusion. Third objective.....extraction. Final objective.....elimination." With that said, the Chrono consluded her debriefing by merely tilting her head back into an upright position, her gaze calmly settling onto her partner.

"There you have it, your best course of action......is our course of action," Angel casually picked up from where his partner concluded, his fingertips continuing to tap against the side of his spectacles, a ticking sound that often creeped most Asylums that were unfortunate enough to be partnered with the Gemellie. "The first objective that my partner spoke of, prevention, is for us to eliminate the Forsaken Kings, they are an unwanted complication. A few years ago the Circus had a civil revolt and quite a few of their members were exiled, not a surprise they would join the Forsaken Kings and even less so the fact that they hate the Circus. We cannot allow the Circus to face opposition and risk them retreating. How fortunate that I have located their base of operations, I am sure you all can't wait to get started!" Angel continued, feigning excitment, yet his expression betrayed the enthusiasm in his tone. A silent and grim expression which served not to intimidate but remind the Asylums to make their peace now.

"What say we have that ice-cream I promised you all?" Angel finally concluded with a snap, as if on que several waiters slowly entered carrying extravagantly decored ice-cream. With the neccessary threats and warnings declared all that was left was to enjoy some divine gellato.

It seemed almost comical how the teams which were just recently trying to assassinate each other were now sharing ice-cream, a prodigal cuisine on a wrecked table with most of the bunker in shambles. The sheer ludicrosity of this scenario almost succeeded in bringing a sincere smile on XIII's face, a humane side which very few ever acknowled.

----------------Xx---------xX-----------------
Time: Approx Midnight
Location: Forsaken King's hide out
----------------Xx----------xX-----------------

When the Asylums arrived at their destination, every factor had been considered. No more than a single team travelled together, each team took a different route when approaching the destination and minimum pedestrian contact was maintained. The King's often employed strategies in which they would disguise themselves as every day citizens in order to better safe guard their proximity. However for a trained Asylum avoiding such obstacles in child's play, each and every Asylum is required to be well versed in all forms of covert strategies and tactics. Throughout history most of the greatest espionage has been done at the hand's of an Asylum. John F kennedy's assassination, the space shuttle 'challenger' disaster, the 1982 logic bomb.

It would have taken the Asylums a matter of seconds to surround the compound, the Gemellie being the one's to knock at the front door. Though from the very start a strange nagging sensation appeared to gnaw at XIII, this entire operation appeared far too easy and the fact that they had yet to encounter a single hiccup did not bode well. It almost seemed as if the King's had invited the Asylums over and with each second the horrid truth slowly continued to sink in.

"Probability of intrusion within A.M.R.O.....is now 71 percent," Rin whispered coldly, her calculative gaze scrutinizing the surroundings.

"What are the chances we might have been discovered by their scouts?" Angel replied, his fingers pressed against his temple. The situation was escalating rapidly and the Crimson Asylum personally detested situations which would have him work hard-er.

"0.0072, the margin of openings were minute to inconsequential. Comparing the skills of the Asylums against the scarce resources of the Kings, mission failure should not have been possible." Rin brushed aside her partner's claims of incompetency, the calculations performed by the Prodigy were considered to have a 97 percent success rate hence the reason for her title, 'A.M.R.O's little Princess'.

"Abort the mission, someone has been hearing in on u--" before Angel could manage to finish his telepathic communication the ground beneath the Gemellie's feet caved in, in all their caution the two had failed to anaylse the structure of the soil on top of which they stood, as a consquence both found themselves tumbling underground.

~ The Demon and the Viking~

Groans echoed in the darkness which enveloped the Crimson Angel, his disoriented vision slowly regained it's focus allowing him to better evaluate the mess they were in. Once the evalutation concluded Angel found himself franticaly looking about, a worried expression which gradually regained its casual composure.

"This is strange, it seems telepathic communication has been cut off.....wait that isn't all...." Angel thought to himself, his palm stretched out with the intension to illuminate the surroundings with alchemy, however something appeared to be interferying with the cast. [i]"I believe A.M.R.O was designing a technology that would interfere with an Alchemists concentration levels, in theory that could make casting alchemy very difficult. It seems like A.M.R.O made their prototype....and it got leaked...splendid. I should find my partner before she brings this place down." Angel couldn't help but shiver at the thought of the paper work that would stack if Reri were to lose control.

It didn't take long for XIII to deduce where he was, the damp surroundings and the smell were indicators enough that he was in the tunnel's that run beneath Vegas, even so he couldn't help but heave a weary sigh. These tunnels stretched on for miles and without alchemy the infamous Blood Draped Angel was simply lost. For the most part all this weary Lost Number wished to do was take a long nap, however this wasn't the time or.....the...place for that, coming to terms with the harsh reality the next few hours were spent scavaging supplies for a flame torch.

"Hey you still alive?" XIII questioned callously as he waved his torch across the unconcious body of Thora, his spectacles shimmering crimson.

"Well, I'm surprised nobody started shooting." Jason commented wryly once everyone more or less agreed there would be no more killing, at least between them, for the day, It did little to wash the sour taste of being used out of his mouth, however. He knew there had to be a reason why they were hunting their own and that AMRO didn't like having loose ends, but he didn't want to believe he was quite that expendable. More the fool he.

Fiora nodded to his comment, though she too was deep in thought. Calm and expressionless as she usually was, her misgivings did not show on her face though they were many. There was no guarantee this Chrono would be a better option than what AMRO had in mind for them. They were disposable. Weapons to be pointed at an enemy and nothing else. Their victories would be claimed by someone else.

---

Jason and Fiora made their way to the rendezvous point as planned, all the while discreetly making sure they weren't being followed. They took a cab, stopped somewhere for a bite, took a bus somewhere else, did a bit of shopping for useless stuff, and at each pit stop they made they profiled each face they saw. None of them were familiar. No vehicles were following them. Nothing was going wrong.

It only meant everything was about to. There was no way their enemy was this careless. Someone was letting them get close, Jason surmised. Someone wanted them to go where they were like moths to a flame... or was the better comparison baiting a mouse trap with peanut butter? Jason had no intentions of just letting some trap snap his neck and kill him like a meek little mouse, however, and neither did Fiora. Midnight was the hour people feared - the hour of ghosts, phantoms and nightmares. None of those things could be killed.

---

As Jason suspected, it was a trap. The ground caved in and found them all split up and unable to use their Alchemy. "Quite an elaborate set up just to kill a handful of Asylums... I'm not sure if I should be worried or flattered." He commented to himself. "Divide and conquer... They know Asylums work in pairs so they force us to divide up into very different groups and throw off our ability to work together. Cunning. Though if they were going to deny us our Alchemy simply opening up on us with heavy gunfire could have worked... Such an overly sophiscated plan..."

It was only then that he noticed he had company. An English woman was laying on the ground beside him. "Where are my manners. Jason Frost, at your service, my lady." He introduced himself again, extending a hand to help his temporary partner up, going back into his flirtatious rogue routine once more. A polite, charming smile and a bow, as if they were not in hostile territory. "It's a pleasure to meet you, though I wish it were better under circumstances."

---

Fiora panicked a little when she realised her link with Jason was cut off, and her Alchemy was unusable. She still had her weapons and that was enough for an Asylum, but as she looked around and noted the two other Asylums with her, she got nervous. She would have rather ended up alone than have to work with strangers. It wasn't that she disliked her current company or that she was anti-social, she just doubted her personality would work well in a group setting.

While she waited for the two to get a bearing on their surrounding and collect themselves, the woman checked her pistols, sword and other equipment to make sure nothing was damaged. Without her Alchemy, she needed to be in top fighting condition in every other respect. She sat on a rock, patiently waiting for the others to wake up and do the same. In the meantime, she fished out her MP3 player and earphones, and started listening to music. If she was going to be trapped here, she might as well make the most of it to pass the time. There were no signs of movement in the tunnels and it seemed the enemy were waiting in ambush, so they didn't have to worry about danger until they started moving.

Though, even if that were the case, anyone lying in ambush nearby might think they were going up against a crazy bitch, the way Fiora started humming along to the song as if this were an everyday stroll through her own neighbourhood.

Team yin-yang hardly made a move as they listened to the two Gemellie members speak of the current situation. Idly Aden push up his glasses with the tip of his index finger as they seemed to slide down the bridge of his nose. As soon as the people carrying the ice cream seemed to funnel out of all over a faint twinge shot across his brow. How in the hell did he miss so many people seeming to just be relaxing around the corner. As two came over to the team and offered ice cream Aden held open his palm. The cool glass placed lightly in his hand and he eyed it curiously. Today had been strange, to say the least..

Jax on the other hand was overly eager to accept the ice cream. Quickly snatching the bowl from the girls hand and immediately shoved the cold ice cream into her mouth. Sparing little time to chew she simply swallowed and slopped more into her face. Suddenly her quick shoveling came to an abrupt stop as her eyes grew wide and an anguished expression crept onto her facial features. Dropping the spoon into ice cream she used her now free hand to grip tightly onto her cranium. Beginning to hop and jump around as she whined. "Brain freeeeeeze!~"

Aden looked at the over reacting Jax and sighed grimly to himself. She was hopeless. Without a word he walked past her and back towards the dining hall. Taking a seat in the empty room he set the bowl onto the table. Taking the end of the spoon he idly swirling the spoon through the frozen cream. He seemed to focus on nothing, set adrift in his own thoughts. He remained that was until his ice cream was nothing more than syrup.

---

The mission had gone according to plan thus far. They casually strolled towards the rendezvous the were missioned. Jax and Aden laughed amongst themselves, playing around as casually as possible. Though this was only a facade, a mask they put on during missions to drop suspicion. Most people didn't think much of a seeming couple laughing and maybing a scene. A tactic of hiding in plain sight.

Upon their arrival they looked around. No one was around, increasing he hearing to a super human level he listened around for anything that seemed off. But he heard nothing at all. And that was more concerning than anything. Suddenly with his heightened hearing still in tact he heard the distinct click of a bomb ignition engaging. Before he could even call out the earth beneath them crumbled to nothing but dust. The two yelled as they slipped and fell into the expanding hole.

It wasn't long before he felt his body slam into the hard floor knocking the wind from his lungs. He groaned painfully as he slowly rolled out of the rubble and pushing himself to his feet. He felt a warm streaming down the side of his face. Reaching up he touched the source and flinched, bringing his fingers back in view and saw the familiar red fluid. He must have banged his head during the fall, which made sense given the splitting head ache. Using the sleeve of his suit jacket he wiped off the blood from his face the best he could.

Looking at the now blood covered sleeve he noticed a few tears and scrapes in the cloth. His eyes widened in horror as he frantically looked over himself. His suit was riddled with tears. "Oh come on!!" He complained loudly. "You son of a bitch!!" He called out down the tunnel for who ever was to blame for this to hear. Apparently more upset about his suit then the gash in his head.

He sighed in defeat as he knew there was nothing he could do about it now other then get ready to deliver an ass kicking. Aden dipped his hand behind his suit jacket - ruined suit jacket - and produced his pistol. Without delay he chambered a round and clicked off the safety. Then Aden realized he wasn't alone as he heard a hum off to the side. He looked over quickly to see it was a girl, if he remembered correctly her name was Fiora. Looking around more he noticed Seira was also with him. What he especially noticed was that Jax was nowhere to be seen.

Aden was about to communicate telepathically but the sinking feeling hit him, he could no longer sense or feel Jax. Something was interfering with their link. He first thought of the worst but immediately started exploring alternate answers. He then tried to produce a simple flame in his hands. When nothing happened he realized something was interfering with their alchemy and could only hope Jax was fine.

Bjorn held a quiet optimism towards the concept of a Chrono-led rebellion. He had no particular love for A.R.M.O. and the less-than-surprising fact that the mission given by a character known as 'the lizard' was in fact a mission that would end in his and Thora's death did not exactly spark any particular company loyalty. Sadly though, the lost number was not speaking about rebellion or anarchy, but maintaining the status quo that was A.R.M.O. This new fellowship would in fact be working to complete the mission objectives of A.R.M.O. and spare themselves a rather inglorious death by making themselves irreplaceable. It was a sound plan, and was less likely to get them killed than taking on the other XI Chronos.

Still, Bjorn was not a fan of how twisted his and Thora's arms were. There wasn't much of a choice here, and the lost number was not only aware of that fact, but he was taking enjoyment from it. Oddly, it was not the words of the Lost number that soothed his frustration, but the words of the Chrono herself. Most would find her mechanical way of speaking disconcerting and unfamiliar, but Bjorn followed every word with an intellectual intellect. Her words were pure logic, and a mind like his could appreciate that. She presented the logic that a second Chrono would come forth and kill them all, should they not make themselves useful and the way to make themselves useful was at the expense of the Circus, or more specifically the circus' dissidents, as the Lost number explained after.

The call for Ice cream was a saddening time for Bjorn. As the treat was place in front of him, he had to slide it away. He suffered from mild lactose intolerance, a very odd side effect of his alchemy, it seems. It wouldn't kill him to eat the Ice cream, but it would leave him gassy. The reason he was saddened was because Thora adored Ice cream, and she'd be out for another fifteen minutes.

"Damn shame." he muttered to himself, feeling the ever encroaching unease of solitude. Even if he was to play the ally for the next short while, he knew none of these people. One half of the group had been assigned as killers by A.R.M.O. while the other half had been the parties assigned to be killed. Trust was not something Bjorn would give in a hurry.

---

The Demon and the Viking

---

Thora had been in a grump ever since she'd woken up. Bjorn had knocked her out because she was going to do something stupid: not an overtly irregular occurrence, but doing so had made her miss Ice cream. She spent the next ten minutes ignoring the big, dumb bear in favour of heavy death metal. After that, her brother had filled her in on the details, and suddenly Thora was expected to go find some dickheads that called themselves 'The Forsaken Kings' who were probably a bunch of weak-shits with delusions of grandeur that wouldn't even have her breaking a sweat! The whole assassination schtick had been pretty boring, but at least her curiosity had been sated by the meeting of the Lost number and a Chrono. She nearly squealed at the meeting with the two big shots in the organisation. To Thora, the two were alchemical rock stars. They were the level she would have to reach in order to reclaim the honour of the family name. She needed to be strong enough to get a Chrono's number, or the world would never forgive her mother's weakness.

So that was all pretty shit, and then she found herself in a fucking dark-ass tunnel! She hit her head on the way down, but her general combat instincts had kicked in and she was able to land with a combat roll and a break-fall that made the impact a non-factor. Within a second she was armed with her sword and her Wrist-weapons were unhinged and ready to kill. She realised she was alone and pretty soon she knew she'd need to get moving. She tried to make a little spark of light with her alchemy, and paused after three seconds of nothing.

What the...

Trying a third time made her sure that something was screwing with her ability to access alchemy. She was talented, to say the least. She didn't misfire under pressure, so that meant there was an outside force here, even if that seemed impossible.

She wandered around the area for a while endlessly, choosing not to light a light because she was sure that the source of illumination would give her away. The fact she was without her alchemy was not a coincidence, nor was the fact that they were all isolated in dark caves. Someone was controlling this, and likely hunting them. She figured out they were in some sort of caves, but had no idea where or why. They were manmade caves though: maybe a sewer or a tunnel system?

Her thought process was stopped though, when she saw a light linger around a corner. She had no where to hide, and that meant she had to either run or fight. Running wasn't in her nature, but nor was fighting at a range. She decided to play possum, and suddenly slumped on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. She'd wait for whoever it was to come close, then she'd nail him with the wrist-mounted spear.

Hearing the voice of the Lost number startled her, and she rolled over suddenly, aggression gone from her body. "You're the Blood-draped angel, right? I'm glad you said something, or I might have launched a harpoon through your skull just then." She was smiling as she pointed her wrist up at the sealing and launched her weapon onto the roof, pulling herself up onto her feet, as if showing off the speed and power of the weapon. "I'm Thora...By the way, I'm guessing you can't use alchemy too, right?" Thora was trying her hardest to be friendly to the Lost number, despite her overwhelming hatred for social interaction. This guy represented authority, and that gave him respect. He could also handle the strain of a Chrono's insanidiction: that meant he had power.

---

Barnabus and the Bear

---

Bjorn, much like his sister, took the fall rather well. The two were trained combat professionals, and the giant of a man had long since learned how to take a hit. His sister was his sparing partner, and she favoured grapples because of the size difference. He landed and remained conscious, before analysing the situation. It took him all of three seconds to figure out his alchemy and indeed his concentration was being affected by something. The thought that an outside force could do such a thing was...daunting. He noticed his solitude and decided to speak out loud, as if to voice his hypothesis to the any person that might listen. "Judging by the fact we fell under the ground level as well as the man-made construction, it is safe to assume we are in the Las Vegas tunnel complexes. This is most likely a King's trap, meaning that they have disabled our alchemy and will be flooding the tunnels with troops very soon. Primary objective is to reundavouz with anyone and everyone possible, before breaking out to the top side. Thora has a grappling hook on each wrist that can support any two individual's weight with ease: ViPs include the Chrono, the Lost Number and Thora." Despite the logic he poured out, he refused to acknowledge how easily Thora could be dead and her weapons could be used without her. She wasn't a ViP, her weapons were: yet Bjorn would not even consider that an option. His sibling was his family, and he would bring down the entire tunnel before he abandoned her.

Bjorn withdrew his shield and his maul, before an idea struck him. He tapped the tip of his shield against the wall rhythmically. He tapped out the mores code message, so as to warn any Asylum that he was not a threat. The message was short and sweet, probably meaning nothing to an outsider of the previous day's events. While still tapping the little message on the wall, he began to walk slowly, listening out for footsteps as much as the rhythm of his shield against the wall.

L...I...Z...A...R...D

Barnabas was analyzing the Asylums all around him when suddenly waiters seemed to materialize from nowhere with great platters of all kinds of exotic ice creams and frozen desserts. He was taken aback by their sudden appearance and was unable to concentrate on his analysis of each Asylum. A waiter thrust an ornate glass dish of an even more ornate chilled gelato into his hand and moved on. He examined the dessert in his hand while Alice had started devouring the one in hers. He would have been surprised to turn around and see her doing so if he had not known her his entire life. Barnabas simply sighed heavily and moved to a nearby seat and set the dish on the small circular table next to it. Alice followed and sat down next to him as she finished her dessert and moved on to eat his as well.

When the time came to “storm” the Kings’ base, Alice and Barnabas took a bus into the city and got off at a random stop before making their way down the main strip, playing the part of young tourists, stopping every so often to take pictures or ask someone to take a picture for their mother back home. Following this course, they eventually made their way into position, but something felt wrong. Alice could feel it down in her bones and was about to turn and tell Barnabas about it as the ground shifted under them and then fell away, leaving them to fall into the unknown.

Alice awoke laying flat on a rough rocky floor to the sound of someone talking. She only caught part of what they were saying.

"... throw off our ability to work together. Cunning. Though if they were going to deny us our Alchemy simply opening up on us with heavy gunfire could have worked... Such an overly sophisticated plan… ”

She perked up slightly at the words the person was saying, thinking it was Barnabas, but in the moment it took her to sit up, she came to her senses and realized it was not her twin brother who spoke. She looked in the direction of the voice as he introduced himself and extended a hand to help her to her feet.

“Where are my manners. Jason Frost, at your service, my lady.”

Alice ignored his hand and stood up, brushing herself off. It was dim in the tunnel they found themselves in, so Alice attempted to make an orb of light in her palm by tracing out sigils in the air before herself, but found her Alchemy was disabled and then remembered that the man she was with… Jason, he had said his name was, said that their Alchemy was taken from them. She sighed heavily and turned toward the man.

“My name is Alice Grimsby, but you probably know me as Corvos. I’m one of The Inquisitors of AMRO, the other being my twin brother Barnabas Grimsby.”

She fell silent after introducing herself and checked her leather wristbands; luckily they hadn’t been damaged in the fall.

“I have gloves with metal knuckles, smoke bombs with antialchemy poison gas, and leather wristbands that fire poison darts, most of which are laced with antialchemy poison. What are your weapons? If we’re stuck together, we should get an inventory list of what we have and formulate a plan to try and meet up with the others.”

---

A soft groan escaped his lips as he came to in this new abyss. Judging by the texture and feel of the floor he was in a tunnel underground; this theory was strengthened by the lack of noise, the dim light, and the light breeze that was constantly blowing. Barnabas looked around as best he could while remaining on the ground, trying his best to appear unconscious so as to not draw attention to himself in this unknown place. For all he knew he could be in a prison cell and being watched by one of the Kings. He was running several different theories and plans through his head when someone spoke over him.

"Judging by the fact we fell under the ground level as well as the man-made construction, it is safe to assume we are in the Las Vegas tunnel complexes. This is most likely a King's trap, meaning that they have disabled our alchemy and will be flooding the tunnels with troops very soon. Primary objective is to rendezvous with anyone and everyone possible, before breaking out to the top side. Thora has a grappling hook on each wrist that can support any two individual's weight with ease: ViPs include the Chrono, the Lost Number and Thora."

The man who spoke was speaking what was on his mind. He tried to get a better look at him without moving too much, but it was impossible, so he decided to stand up and look at the man who was speaking; it was the bear of a man who had knocked his sister out with some sort of concussive force back at the bunker. Barnabas eyed him for a moment before speaking, getting over his social anxiety in order to work together to get out of this place.

“My name is Barnabas Grimsby, but you may also know me by my code name: Noctuam. I am one of AMRO’s Inquisitors. The other is my sister, Alice Grimsby. Her code name is Corvos. I believe you were one of the Aslyums sent to kill my sister and me, not that that matters now that we’re both under the thumb of the Chrono and the Lost Number. My sister is a hand-to-hand specialist equipped with gloves that have metal knuckles, smoke bombs that release antialchemy poison gas, and leather wristbands that shoot poison darts, most of which are laced in antialchemy poison. I’m equipped with a revolver with antialchemy rounds and a silencer mechanic, a high-powered taser with barbs laced in antialchemy poison, and a collapsible short sword laced in antialchemy poison. What are you equipped with? I agree on attempting to rendezvous with the others as soon as possible. We should get moving now.”

__________________________________________

Let Them Eat Ice Cream!
__________________________________________

“Dickwad! That almost took off a precious digit.”

“Stop being a stubborn old man. Ask the girl to fix it.”

“No fucking way! The bitch did this in the first place.”

Seira waved off her ice cream and turned her attention to the swearing black man sitting cross legged right in the center of the hallway. Parts of his gun was scattered all around him. She chuckled as she noticed he was trying to force different pieces together. His temper was clearly clouding his rational mind. She waltzed over with a cheery smile and placed her hands on his shoulders. She leaned over till her shadow blocked the light. He looked up, glared for a second or so, pushed her hands off his shoulders, and finally shoved the rest of the pieces under him. The sound of metal scrapping against the floor set her teeth on edge. Judging by the crunching and scrapping the man wasn't comfortable at all. He was definitely shifting around trying to find a way to sit without being poked. What an idiot!

“Oh no you don’t! You did enough damage for one day,” he snarled.

“It was self-defense,” she replied with a small pout. “Having my brains splattered all over the place is not the best way to go. I want to die looking pretty.”

The woman edged closer to him only to have him pull away. She closed the gap again and he retreated even further. They continued their little game till finally he had his back against the wall. She could smell sweat, some fading cologne, the scent of blood and a horrid breath. Possibly from eating garlic bread or some pasta dish. Still she leaned over and kissed his jaw bone teasingly. She pulled her lips off and kissed the same spot again before leaving a trail of kisses. Finally she placed a huge kiss on his cheek. She grabbed one of his cornrows and twirled it round and round her slender white finger. The poor fool was so shocked that he wasn't even pushing her away. She smiled sweetly as she twirling the course strand of hair. Behind her back she had her hand outstretched and her fingers wiggling. She felt one of the pieces land on her palm. With a soft click the reassembled gun landed in the palm of her hand. She had sneaked in one or two alterations, which she hoped won't be discovered till later.

“That wasn’t so hard now… was it?”

"God damn it!"

The vixen allowed the man to push pass her, and she continued remaining where she was as she watched the other team disappeared round the corner. She even waved and smiled as the female Asylum glared at her. Truthfully she didn't care what the two thought of her. All that mattered was that she managed to fix the gun. Watching that male Asylum struggle with it was really frustrating. Why can't people be smarter? Surely he must have realized that she was waiting for him to approach her.

Camron looked away as Seira walked back towards him. The whole scene weirded him out. Was that supposed to be romantic, twisted or simply insane? His partner just kissed a guy so that she could fix his gun. Realizing that he would look suspicious sucking his spoon as he held onto an empty bowl, Camron waved to the waiter and pointed to his empty bowl. The boy accepted his new bowl gratefully. His partner snorted derisively and commented about his unhealthy appetite. The teen ignored her. He dug up a huge spoonful and shoved it into his mouth. A sharp pain caused him to drop his spoon. He clutched his head slightly as the waiter rushed back.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"He didn't have an aneurysm." Seira commented dryly.

"A what...?"

"A stroke."

"Erm... shall I get the doctor?"

The boy chuckled weakly as the pain subsided. He grabbed the waiter's hand before the man could rush off to actually fetch a doctor. "Have you ever had brain freeze before?"

__________________________________________

A college kid, a music loving introvert and a cool customer need to work together
__________________________________________

Seira groaned softly as she landed on her back. Who was the idiot who triggered the trap? Her mind had scarcely begun considering the appropriate scapegoat when she heard a snapping sound. Quickly she flung her right hand violently to loosen the expanding metal rings. Nagi and Nami flew off as they grew to their original size. Nagi landed less than 10 meters away while Nami had rolled off into the shadows beyond her current field of vision. She let out a strangled sigh as she pulled herself up into a seiza position. A moment sooner and her chakrams would have severed all her fingers.

The medical student stretched to ease the tension as the grim implications sank in. She was stuck in an alchemic void, and her only useable weapon was her gun. The chakrams were hard to use without any form of alchemy due to their size. She clicked her tongue impatiently. Her current companions were … coping. They weren’t her first choice, but she wasn't going to be picky in this current situation.

The woman noticed her male companion was bleeding, and she hurried to his side. Seira held onto Aden’s left arm. She tightened her grip a little. She didn’t want him to start lashing out. Asylums hated it when people grab them suddenly, and they retaliated violently. Many a medic were injured by their patients because they never took the necessary precaution. She braced herself. She prayed he wasn't violent.

“Are you feeling giddy?” She asked calmly. “Please answer truthfully. We definitely need to get you patched up, but I want to know what I am working with.”

The rookie looked in Fiona’s direction hoping to make eye contact. Somehow the other woman appeared to be lost in her own world. The medic in training turned her attention back to her patient. She guided him towards a pile of rocks, which were just the right height for him to sit down comfortably, and just low enough for him not to injure himself if he started fainting. She turned to the other Asian once more, and tapped her ear, hoping the woman would remove those earphones. She wasn't happy with her current situation. All she could do was stem the bleeding. A lighter would have been good, but chances of anyone actually carrying one around was rather slim.

__________________________________________

A blabber mouth, a potty mouthed gentleman and a sarcastic queen still don't see eye to eye
__________________________________________

Camron sat up. The kid immediately opened the satchel slung across his shoulders, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Most of the items he packed were still in there. Time for some skittles! The boy opened the bag and popped a handful of the colorful palettes into his mouth. The teen moved the candy to the side of his mouth and chomped on them nervously as he studied his surroundings. He believed he was still alive because the soft bedding beneath him cushioned his fall. He dreaded looking down, but he was still curious to know what it was. The blonde youth reached down. First he felt something smooth and cool almost like leather. His fingers wandered a little further. They brushed against a couple of rough strands. He frowned as he held one of the strands between two fingers. Was it a sofa covering of sorts? Or was it a coil of rope? The boy pulled till the strand broke loose.

“You bastard! I am so going to KILL YOU!”

A huge shove sent the poor kid sprawling onto the floor. Half the skittles spilled all over the concrete surface and rolled away. He blinked as he found himself staring into the eyes of a very mad, black man. Secretly Camron wondered how intimidating it must be to look a panther in the eyes before being mauled. Rich's skin was certainly as black as a panther's hide, and the man looked just as menacing. On the other hand the slight grimace frozen on Rich's face made Camron consider the possibility that the poor man was constipated. The boy wrinkled his nose. Having bowel problems was never fun. Camron chuckled weakly as he held out the remaining skittles in the half empty packet. Candy should brighten up the nigger’s day. That is if niggers other than Eddy Murphy and Will Smith could ever happy.

“Want some? Sweets always help people feel better.”

“Hon, if you can just frickin help me up instead of stepping on my dress I would be much happier,” exclaimed a very pissed off woman.

“Sorry Sel!” the black man said sheepishly.

“Tsk. I never thought I ever hate having you lie on top of me, but when it isn't sex, you are nothing but a dead weight. You, sir, are getting tubbier by the day.”

“Well excuse me! Who was the one who keeps saying she must watch her weight and waste perfectly good food.”

“Shut! Up!”

There was more rustling and swearing as the black man helped his partner up. The confused teen watched silently as the two argued about their current predicament. Seriously he wondered why they seemed so uptight. It wasn’t as if zombies were going to start charging in. The boy held onto the last thought. Many impossible things had already happened within the last 48 hours - cement cocoons, exploding cars, walls of fire, alien pods and ice cream served on a silver platter. Having to fight a couple of supernatural or undead creatures was still a possibility. Satisfied with hiw own conclusion, the teen decided to proceed to the next logical step, which was reassuring his team mates and doing an inventory check. The more ammo they had the better their chances of survival. They may even meet up with Seira later.

“If it helps you feel any better, I have a tube peppermint filled Cadbury chocolate, a packet of lays sour cream and onion potato chips, some funky coffee candy called Kopiko, three bags jelly beans and two flash bangs.”

He smiled a little more brightly as the couple stared at him incredulously. “Isn't an inventory check the most important first step? We always do that while playing post apocalypse games like L4D and L4D2 … How experienced are you guys when it comes to fighting zombies? I mean you already have a pistol so you must be able shoot stuff at close range at least… and she has something I think.”

“Kid, you need a psychiatrist,” the black man muttered under his breath.

Rich muttered darkly about show offs and egoists as he returned to his beloved gun. He ignored all attempts by the waiters to offer him ice cream. Can’t the idiots see he was busy? Irritated the man gave the latest waiter the finger before returning once more to the task at hand. He forced two similar pieces together, but they slid across one another. He hissed loudly as the sharp edge slit his finger. He cursed under his breath as he examined the cut before bringing his finger to his mouth to suck off the blood. He forced himself to swallow his own blood despite the horrid coppery twang overwhelming his tongue.

“Dickwad! That almost took off a precious digit.”

Sela rolled her eyes as she motioned for the waiter to bring her another bowl of scotch almond gelato. She knew her husband all too well. He refused to even look at Seira because he wanted to be macho. Stupid man won’t even acknowledge that he doesn’t even know how to reassemble the gun from those drips and drabs. Did he really think he can outdo a weapon alteration specialist?

“Stop being a stubborn old man. Ask her to fix.”

Rich mimicked gagging as he stared at his wife. Luckily for her she has a hot butt, or he would have … have done nothing. Damn that sexy lady. Her stupidity can be such a turn off at times. That prissy brat would not understand Puppy like he does. Hell what would she even know about wielding a gun. She looked barely eighteen for Christ’s sake. The girl was nothing more than a bitchy homecoming queen in his eyes.

“No fucking way! The bitch did this in the first place.”

He looked when a shadow fell over head. His eyes met Seira’s black ones. She gave him a sickly saccharine smile as she placed her hands on his shoulders. The half Jamaican brushed the female Asylum’s hands off away and piled on the pieces together before sitting on them. Why wouldn’t these crazy Asylum bitches (his wife included) leave him alone? He crossed his arms and glared. His facial expression fixed like a mask despite the discomfort he felt. Some of those pieces were rather pointy. Awkwardly his eyes trailed down Seira’s legs. Damn, she had really nice legs even though she was rather on the short side.

“Oh no you don’t! You did enough damage for one day,” he snarled.

He shifted uncomfortable as the girl closer. Soon he found himself sitting on the floor as he had involuntarily jerked up when one of the so called sharp pieces pricked through the seat of his pants. She pinned him against the way. They were so close that he could almost smell her perfume. The artificial candy scent made him wrinkle his nose. That smell was anything, but sexy. He tried to scowl in defiance as the woman kissed his jaw bone teasingly before she left a trail of kisses. What the fuck! Now she is kissing his cheek too. Sel is so gonna murder them both. His eyes widened a little as she began twirling one of his cornrows round her finger. He continued shifting uncomfortably as he felt his body temperature rise. A soft click made him jerk his head to the side. Seira laughed as she held Puppy teasingly in front of him.

“That wasn’t so hard now… was it?”

“God damn it!” Rich growled in frustration as he pushed pass the Asian vixen.

Tricking a man like that was not cool. Rage and embarrassment roiled inside. Rich stormed over to his wife and grabbed her hand. He felt her try to tug her hand loose. It was a half-hearted protest. She began following him round the corner. The dirty glare she gave the little slut made him smirk. His woman had his back. No doubt about that. He wanted to kiss her right then and there, too bad she was a little too stiff to be a proper exhibitionist.

“I want to kill that little … umph… umph….”

Rich crushed his lips against Sela’s paler ones to silence her. What he needed now was a little romp among the sheets and not some lady’s bitching. He could feel her literally relaxing in his arms. He rubbed his nose against hers.

“I still think the other women are ugly.”

MIX laughed. “If you say so Sel! I, on the other hand, think that red headed punk had a nice cleavage.”

With that Mr. Prentice kissed his missus again before she could start arguing with him. Nothing was hotter than dragging an angry wife to bed. He closed his eyes as he attempted to teleport them to the nearest bedroom. The half British smiled as he pushed his wife down onto the bed. A nice, long apology was in order.

“Sel, only you drive me up the wall. All the fucking time.”

---

Sela brushed her off the dust from her dress. She fished out her compact and began studying herself in the cracked mirror. A slight brush of the hair and reapplying some lipstick made everything perfect once more. LIV ignored the boy’s rambling. There was no way she was going to try and talk over the kid, because that means she would be practically shouting. Sela concentrated. She waited for a moment before concentrating again. This time she was practically staring in Rich’s direction. She raised a thin, well-shaped eyebrow. Nope the problem wasn’t from her end. It didn’t appear to be coming from his side either. He wouldn’t dare block her like that.

“Kid, you need a psychiatrist.” Rich muttered.

“Just a psychiatrist? I suggest we book the undertaker as well.”

“Tsk. Still testy tonight?”

Sela rolled her eyes. “Alchemy is a no go. This will be a chore.”

“What about the kid?”

Rich backed away as his wife approached him. His instinct told him that he won’t like what she was about to do. Nothing good ever happens when she smiles like that. NOTHING. Not even when he proposed. He felt his back come against the rough stone wall, and he promptly slid down. Sela grabbed hold of his coat lapel and pulled it towards her. What!

“STOP!” He yelled desperately.

Too late. Rich felt Puppy leaving its holster. He crossed his arms as he watched that traitorous wife of his sashay her way towards the teen. Bitch! Stealing his best weapon and giving it to that whelp. He could have sworn this was her way of one upping him in retaliation. He sighed as he heard the teen exclaim happily. He prayed the boy shoots himself in the face. He didn’t even move as a bullet buried itself in the wall inches from where his ear was.

“WHAT THE FUCK! Kid gimme back the gun.”

“Rich, shut it. He has good aim.”

“Good aim my arse. He almost put a bullet through my head.”

“Actually I was aiming for that spider beside you.”

Rich looked to the side and saw the remains of the poor insect. He covered his face with his hand and sighed once more. When this is over, he shall personally march that hare brained kid to the nearest psychiatric office and lock him there.

“So I see,” he replied sarcastically.

As soon as the terrain crumbled beneath the Chrono's feet her senses magnified, time itself came to a halt due to her mental processing making the relative flow of time irrelevant. In the brief margin allotted to Rin she easily succeeded in locating the source of the upheaval, nano mines placed within a circumference of the Asylums.

Unlike traditional mines, nano mines deployed nanites to distabalize the molecular structure around it, hence creating earthquakes and cave-ins. Such technology was yet to be publically acknowledged let alone be so readily available, as far as production was concerned A.M.R.O kept it classified under 'Project Deus'. Even Chronos possessed little knowledge of the exact contents of Project Deus, though what was certain was the fact that A.M.R.O had recently begun investing quite heavily in advance forms of weaponry.

In her usually callous demeanor the Chrono continued to calculated the processed information, her thought process so rapid that a single second stretched on and on with stillness all around her. "This technology was triggered via transmission," the child thought to herself, her eyes having broadened it's optical window there by allowing the Prodigy to observe all forms of electromagnetic spectrums, particularly the transmission that triggered the mines.

"Begin trace."

As soon as her words parted her lips, her consciousness appeared to meld within the residual trail left behind by the transmission. With that a new world appeared to open up, one where countless spectrums interlinked and crossed a world of colours. Before the Chrono could admire this strange world she had arrived to her destination, the transmission being traced back to an old IBM 5155 with but three words typed onto the antique monitor.

"Welcome to Eden"

By the time Rin's conciousness returned to her, she had descended deep into the tunnels of Vegas with darkness as her new companion. Though right before falling into the abyss, the Prodigy made sure she telepathically conveyed two words to all teams in their vicinity.

"Project Deus"

"Where is....he" Rin whispered, a strange hesitance in her voice breaking the monotone. "Telepathic contact has been disabled...along with Alchemy....this technology.....this is also ours."

"Then I guess we need to find our big brother!" The Chrono's demeanor instantly appeared to shift, a bright smile lay spread across her face as the little kid hopped towards the center of the tunnel.

"I am surprised you have kept yourself emotionally stable, my other half." Once again the Chrono's personality switched, reverting back to the callous Rin. It almost appeared as if the two personalities were engaging in a conversation, an eerie spectacle.

"Quit treating me like a kid!" Rena stomped her foot, pouting at being chided by herself. "You aren't the only smart pants here...okay," -VI- snapped while sticking out her tongue, both her hands nearing her mouth to form a makeshift mega-horn.

"PEEK-A-BOO!" The child screamed at the top of her voice, her ears keenly registering the flow of sound echoing through the tunnels. A vague map of sorts instantly formed in her mind, allowing the Chrono to estimate the distance and intersections.

"Hide and seek time," the little prodigy clapped her hands while twirling, a signature victory dance Rena was known to do.

"I found you!" The Chrono chirped, both her pistols drawn and aimed at the person ahead of her. (Jax here)

-----------------------Xx---------------------xX-------------------------

"You're the Blood-draped angel, right?"

"Such a clichéd title," Angel thought out loud as he sighed wearily, clearly the title appeared to be a source of nostalgia for the Lost Number. He calmly observed the Asylum as she introduced herself as well as her weapon, a modified harpoon. An unorthodox weapon, though seeing as XIII's weapon of choice consisted of a coffin he didn't feel the need to be vocal.

"It appears as though I am not the only one facing this little predicament," the Crimson Asylum nodded, indirectly answering Thora's question. "It seems like our job is going to be......much harder than I anticipated, oh how I loathe added effort," he complained, clearly irked at the fact that he will be missing his afternoon nap.

"Tell me little viking, do you know what is 'Project Deus' or to be more exact....'Arma Deus'?" As the Blood Draped Angel spoke, a fiendish smirk lay spread across his face, an expression which silently said, 'I know far more than I should'.

"Who are you calling 'Little Viking'?" Thora grumbled, clearly unamused by the off-hand title he'd attached to her. If he wasn't the closest thing she had to a boss, she might have considered decking the fool then and there: not many people could stand up to her in alchemy-less combat. "As for any 'Project Deus' nonsense, I got nadda. Seems a little cliché though, don't it? Project God, I mean."

She looked at Angel, waiting for him to say something: hoping that he might fill in the gaps she clearly had in her knowledge. You don't just spout stuff about 'Project Deus' unless it was important.

"Cliche...but all fools aspire Godhood, it is in the pinnacle of perfection after all," Angel crowed softly, despite the casual nature of his tone the sullen expression he wore revealed a distaste he held for such fools. "To fight monsters with monsters, that was the raison d'etre for A.M.R.O," the Crimson Asylum continued in a cynical tone, as if mocking their organization's goals. "Five hundred years and they realize it, monsters are unpredictable. Why empower them? Why put so much faith in an abomination? Why try to tame a viper?" With each question that he asked, his smile slowly faded and his tone grew dauntingly mellow.

"Alchemists are becoming redundant, little Viking. Such is how A.M.R.O things, what is a mere monster when faced with Arma Deus, 'The Weapons of God'. Now imagine if such technology were to, say, leak out. The result? You are looking at a fraction of it." As Angel finished he waved around the little stick of fire that he had salvaged, silently conveying their alchemy-less state

"Attachment to authority is foolish, there is only one supreme power and that is death. I wouldn't recommend getting overly attached with her, she can be rather possessive," as he spoke, Angel couldn't help but chuckle once more.

"PEEK-A-BOO"

As soon as these words echoed past XIII he had strapped his coffin, signally it is time to go. "That is my brilliant kiddo," he thought out loud while applauding with a clap.

The Rogue

Jason sighed when it was apparent the Asylum he was with was not one for small talk. For once, he'd like to meet a girl who could humour him without being too eager to kill something. He spun his baton around, splitting it in the middle to reveal two blades, joined them back together to form a double bladed spear, split them back apart and returned them to the baton configuration. Next, he did a series of flourishes with his cards to show off his sleight of hand tricks and sliced a stalagmite in two with one card while pocketing the rest of the pack simultaneously before pulling his sleeve back to reveal the wrist mounted crossbow.

The whole routine was performed as if he were a circus performer instead of an Asylum. "That's not all I can do with my hands, if you're ever interested in the most pleasurable massage you'll ever have." He replied with a grin, before taking a proper glance around their surrounds. "Well, Alice, I usually enjoy the company of a woman as beautiful as yourself but I daresay we do need to find our partners. To that end..."

He fished out a piece of chalk from his pocket and marked the wall with a small discreet sign. "I don't suppose you have some sort of protocol for establish contact with your partner aside from telepathy, do you? This is how I communicate with Fiora when we have nothing else at our disposal but I don't fancy our chances of running into each other's marks."

He sniffed the air and frowned. "I do love that scent you're wearing, Alice. A pity it is being ruined by the stench of sweat. Our enemies are lying in wait... that way." He removed a glove from his hand to determine where the air currents were moving and where the scent had come from. "Well, what better way to find Asylums than to walk right into a battle?" He chuckled, crooking his elbow out as if to escort his companion. "Shall we, milady?"

---

The Regent

Fiora noticed watched the woman treat the other Asylum she was stuck with and looked at her while pointing at her ear. The quiet girl assumed that woman wanted her to take her earphones off. Fiora did so and at the same time, took out a piece of chalk to mark the rock she was sitting on. She continued humming as she worked, taking out a small necklace, with a strange rock set in it that was glowing dimly. It was a photoluminescent rock which absorbed sunlight during the day and glowed when it got darker. It provided enough light to just see where they were going without tipping off the enemy to their position or paint a target that said "shoot here".

She moved closer so the light around her neck was enough for the medic to do her work, while she dusted herself off and check her bag to make sure it wasn't too badly damaged that it wouldn't be able to hold her gear any longer.

"Fiora." She introduced herself, before pulling up her skirt to reveal her holstered pistols and turning around to do the same with her blouse to reveal the hilt of her sword, resting over her spine and just above where her Asylum number was tattooed, with the word "Judgment" below it as clear as day. "Weapons." She gestured at the two Asylums with her to do the same and give each other a good idea of what kind of fire power they were carrying.

Once that was out of the way she continued to look through her supplies. Jason had always insisted they use backpacks that weren't easy to lose in case something like this happened and she was glad it paid off. She produced three granola bars and tossed one each to her current partners. "Eat." She commented simply, while checking her surroundings to make sure no one was coming to engage them.

"Enemies." She commented simply, pointing to her left to let the other two know where the fight would be taking place. Fiora and Jason had a very simple rule whenever they got separated - head towards the enemy. After all, bloodshed followed where Asylums went and if you needed to find one, all you had to do was follow the trail of blood.

The Demon and the Viking

---

Thora tried very hard to remain cordial and polite to the lost number, but she was finding it increasingly hard when he just…kept…talking. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot? You talk a lot. Like, Brother Bjorn talks a bunch, but he doesn’t try and put so much…well…” she shakes her hands dramatically to show Angel’s flair for the dramatic.

“Not that there is anything wrong with that, of course…but you don’t need to overcomplicate stuff so much: Not with me, anyway.” She drew the sword at her hip, Sleipnir, and offered the lost number a smile. “I’ll just kick the butt of whatever I need to. I’ll hunt down what I gotta hunt down. Be that Alchemist, ARMO or any other dumbasses. I’ll trust who I think is worth trusting: at the moment that is you and my brother. ‘sthat fair by you?” She swayed her sword through the air at a frightful speed, working the muscles of her arm into the familiar, warmed up groove again.

Hearing the loud sound of the Chrono’s shout: Thora’s smile shifted into a shocked grimace. “Oh god, she’s an idiot.” Thora suddenly turned away from the Lost Number and started to sprint in the direction of the voice. She had figured a few things out already: most importantly that the bad guys must be close. That big shout? That would be the new target for every bad guy: and the Chrono was each Asylum’s chance for circumventing the wrath of A.R.M.O.

“Shit.”

---

Barnabus and the Bear

---

Bjorn had to admit that he was surprised by the way in which his new found ‘ally’ was taking the fact he’d been stuck with an individual that, until a few hours ago, would have happily killed him. The man didn’t give off the impressions of an idiot. Did he actually trust Bjorn, or was there something more? “I am aware of you and your sister. Your files were reasonably extensive.” He paused, grimacing at the fact that he was once again bringing up the less-than-comfortable memory that he was an assassin, not long ago.

“Your arsenal is extensive, assuming the Four Kings are going to send heavy amounts of alchemist opponents. My main tools are a shield and a maul, more often than not as catalysts for my alchemy, but they are functional, to say the least.” Unlike Barnabus, Bjorn was in no rush to reveal any more about either his sister or his own abilities. Perhaps it was just a healthy distrust, but he had no desire to share information carelessly.

Alice watched the man’s little performance he used to show of his weaponry. His array was impressive, but when he commented on his nimble fingers and the ability to give her the most pleasurable massage she would ever have Alice stared at him for a moment. She was in a completely serious mood because of the current situation: being thrown into the tunnels beneath Vegas, being separated from her brother and partner, and having her alchemy disabled. The abruptness of the man’s joking caused her to laugh a soft and breathless laugh that brought tears to her eyes and to slump against the wall slightly. It took her a moment to get herself under control, but when she did she straightened up in time to hear Jason mentioning how him and his partner communicated if their telepathy was cut off and complimenting her scent.

“Don’t talk yourself up too much there, Romeo. Barnabas uses morse code, and I use colored gas from my smoke bombs. Oh, and thank you. It’s called Le Sweat. Now let’s -”

“PEEK-A-BOO!”

“That sounded like the little Chrono. She’s an idiot, but we should move in the direction of her yell. Not only will enemies close in on her location, but the others might as well. We should move now.”

---

Barnabas allowed his temporary ally to explain what his arsenal was before replying. The man before him may have been assigned to kill him and his sister not too long ago, but he was now in the same situation as him and had no choice but to work with Barnabas. Of course, this didn’t mean he trusted the man completely and wholeheartedly; any Asylum worth their grain would not trust another Asylum completely except for their partner. Barnabas only revealed what would be on his files to the stranger.

“I expect the Kings to send their people at us with their alchemy intact. It would be the most logical strategy being in their current position of power. As Asylums, we’re all used to relying on our alchemy in combat and are all at a disadvantage. With that information, I believe we should proceed with as much caution as possible and attempt to - “

“PEEK-A-BOO!”

The shout echoed off of the walls past them and back down the tunnels. There was no mistaking it, it was the voice of the young Chrono. Barnabas stopped mid-sentence and stared at his new compatriot.

“That was definitely the Chrono. That changes things very slightly. It now gives us a direction to go in to attempt to regroup with our partners and the others. Of course, any enemies in these tunnel will also converge on the origin of her yells. That just means we’ll have to proceed with even more caution than before. I would suggest we move in a formation that puts you in front because of your size and shield with me behind you to cover your back with my firearm, but I understand you not accepting that plan with me being your target not too long ago.”

Barnabas drew his revolver, checked that it was loaded, and then activated the silencer mechanism.

__________________________________________

The Council of Three
__________________________________________

A soft glow came from overhead. The medic looked up and smiled gratefully. “Woah, thanks! That is really useful. I must get one of those.”

Deftly Seira looked into her patient’s eyes, and noticed they were slightly unfocused. Probably a slight concussions, but the wound seemed shallow enough that no stitches were needed. That was the good news. She hoped he had a high pain tolerance, because there was no medicine around to cure any resulting headaches. As though he could read her mind, Aden reached into his coat and pulled out his pack of advil. Seira reached over and yanked it free. The man swatted her hand away a few seconds too late. He grumbled darkly as she stuck out her tongue playfully.

“Ha! You’re too slow.” She teased.

The man ignored her and continued clutching his head. Seira removed two tablets, wrapped them up in her handkerchief and crushed them with her heel. Aden looked at the powder skeptically. He leaned back and held a warning hand up.

“I am not going to swallow that.”

“It’s not for you to swallow, dummy,” Seira replied calmly.

The younger Asylum grabbed the older one’s upper arm. Gently she smeared the powdered substance all over the bleeding wound. Then she offered him her handkerchief. “Press the handkerchief to your forehead. The pressure would help stop the bleeding even faster. The powder… “She shrugged. “Hopefully it helps a little. Having blood trickling down all the time is sure annoying.”

Fiora said “Fiora.”

Seira was grateful the other Asylum waited patiently. A considerate teammate was always a good asset. She turned back to the other woman in the group. The light was a tad too dim for her to see Fiora’s face clearly, but she could see them a little better with the help of the nifty device. Most likely Fiora was the Asian woman who startled gangster with dreadlocks from earlier.

“I’m Seira,” she replied cheerfully.

“Aden,” the man grunted.

“You’re welcome, Aden,” she remarked coolly.

“A simple thank you would have been great,” she grumbled internally.

Fiora proceeded to show them her weapons – two holstered pistols, a sword and a rifle. The woman then motioned for them to reveal theirs. Seira had no idea where her chakrams went, so she didn’t bother mentioning them. Instead XCI took out the gun she smuggled out of the shooting range. She removed to cartridge to show that she only had twelve bullets. She reinserted the cartridge and kept her weapon. Aden simply glared at the two women when Fiora shone the light in his direction. He shielded his eyes with his free hand. Seira gently reached out and guided the Fiora’s hand away.

“Let’s give him some space. I think the light is making his head hurt.”

She heard some more rustling. Next Fiora pulled out three granola bars. The woman tossed the bars to them. Seira quickly stepped back. She didn’t trust herself to catch something in the dark. Aden, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. Judging from the way he cursed, Seira guessed that the bar hit him in the face. She smirked. Fiora had a good aim. She felt something brush pass her leg, and she bent over to retrieve Aden’s granola bar. It didn’t take her long to find hers.

“You seem well prepared,” she joked. “I am not too hungry, but I guess a little snack won’t hurt. Can’t tell when we will have our next meal.”

The medic pocketed the other bar and proceeded to unwrap hers. She sniffed it cautiously. Nope. There definitely wasn’t any chocolate. Instead it smelled like coconut and some weird combination of artificially sweetened dry tropical fruit. Even as she chewed she couldn’t identify the fruits. This was the reason why she hated packaged food. Real food always tasted heaps better.

Seira remained quiet as she struggled to finish the rest of the dry bar. Deciding she didn’t want to risk feeling thirsty, the rookie wrapped up the remaining half and pocketed it as well. Other than the rattling of the wind in the otherwise empty tunnels, and the occasional squeak of a rat, there was no other sound to be heard. It was really unnerving considering that they were in Las Vegas less than an hour ago. She breathed in and exhaled slowly. About five minutes later, Fiora spoke up once again.

Fiora said “Enemies.”

The younger female tensed up slightly as she continued listening for footsteps or any signs of approaching enemies. There was none. Seira frowned. What was Fiora trying to say? Did the woman mean they should watch out for enemies? Or did Fiora mean that the others were captured by the enemies? Or perhaps her teammate suspected that the enemies caused the ground to collapse just now?

“Eh? Sorry, but I don’t get you.”

Aden sighed. Clearly they had a rookie on their hands. He removed the handkerchief and felt the wound. He rubbed his index finger against his thumb. He felt a semi wet paste, but other than that there didn’t seem to be any blood. “I think she wants us to leave the tunnels and hunt for enemies. They are not likely to suspect us taking them on so soon.”

“Sounds legit,” Seira replied.

Rena said “Peek-a-boo!”

The man stood up. “Don’t stand there gaping. The Chrono is calling us.”

Seira snorted. “How can you tell?”

“I doubt she would be idiotic enough to announce her presence to the enemies unless she wants them to find her,” he shot back wryly. “Judging from what I heard I suggest we take the right turn instead of the left.”

He didn’t bother waiting for the ladies before he exited the cave. Seira looked at Fiora, and she shrugged. Aden sounded like a bitch. She wasn’t sure if it was the headache or he was naturally abrasive.

__________________________________________

The boy, the man and the woman
__________________________________________

Camron felt himself stagger as he fired the shot at the huge black spider above Rich’s left shoulder. He slipped and fell onto the ground. The gun fell to the ground and fired a shot randomly into the distance. Thankfully it wasn’t facing anyone at that time. Wow! Was that how a real gun feels like? No wonder the Americans love owning guns. That had to be the best feeling ever!

Rich said “WHAT THE FUCK! Kid gimme back the gun.”

Sela said “Rich, shut it. He has good aim.”

Rich said “Good aim my arse. He almost put a bullet through my head.”

“Actually I was aiming for that spider beside you.”

Camron listened as the other two bickered. Soon his mind began wandering. They were too caught up in their little quarrel to pay him any attention. He tilted his head backwards and stared into the gaping hole that led away from the chamber they were in. Shafts of moonlight filtered through from above, but it was not enough for him to make out what lay beyond. What if a dragon waited for them? Or a huge cerebus? Or some other creature that would provide loads of pyrotechnics?

“Kid. Oi! Kid!”

The blonde teen jerked his head back and looked at Rich. He raised his eyebrow slightly. Okay, so the nigger didn’t look angry. Camron wondered what the man wanted now. He hoped he didn’t have to mediate for them. That would suck!

“Wad up, nigger?” He asked with a smile.

The edge of Rich’s lip curled slightly. “I have a name, boy. Say it – Rich! R-I-C-H … Rich!”

“Serious! That’s a white name!”

Sela laughed. “Kid, you have got lots to learn. I’m Salome, but you can call me Sela. What’s yours?”

“Salome? Are you from Arabia? I remembered that guy from Aladdin using the word Salome.”

This time it was Rich’s turn to laugh. “Arabia? God kid, what did they teach you in school?”

“It isn’t funny, Rich.” Sela snarled.

“Much better than being called a nigger.”

Sela took a deep breath to calm down. She studied the boy closely. Surely this kid must know how annoying he was. Yet somehow there didn’t seem to be any malice in his words. “Anyway, what’s your name, kid? We can’t be calling you kid all night.”

“Camron! I think it sounds like a girl’s name to be honest. They insisted it wasn’t.”

“They?” Sela asked curiously.

“The guys in lab coats.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the mental hos…” Rich oofed as his wife elbowed him in the ribs. “Oi! What gives?”

“Don’t be mean.”

“The punk deserves it.”

“Richard Prentice, can’t you act your age for once.”

“Oh so you want to play that game, eh? Mrs. Salome Prentice.”

Rena said “Peek-a-boo!”

Camron whipped his head towards the opening once again. He listened as the echo faded. The other two seemed to have missed it completely. The voice sounded like that of the little girl from the bunker. A Chrono? He wasn’t even sure what that was. Anyway her voice came from somewhere to their left.

“Guys! GUYS!” The youngest member of the group yelled loudly. “I know where the others are.”

“Shhhh… Camron! Do you want the enemies to hear us?”

“Enemies? But there is no one around!” The boy exclaimed. He couldn’t be bothered to keep his voice down. He might have if there were footsteps. The other two must think they are spies or something. Guess he could play along.

Camron lowered his voice. “I think we should head to the left and see if we can bump into the rest.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I heard her just now.”

“Who?”

“The girl you guys keep calling Chronos.”

Sela corrected the boy automatically. “Chrono. Not Chronos. She isn’t a Greek God.”

“Yeah! That was the dude I was thinking about!”

“Shhhhh…”

“Ooops. Sorry.”

"And don't get yourself killed." Mariya looked at the robot from which her Uncle's voice was expressing his concern, and stuck out her tongue.

"Nothing's managed to kill me yet. I'll watch out, though... for you," she finished, and signaled at Frizz to silence their communications. The robot complied, peeking its camera head around the corner on its long snake-like neck as Mariya took manual control. Looked like the way was clear here, too. "Alright guys, let's go." She slid back into the cockpit of the two-wheeled vehicle that had been sitting snuggly behind her in the shadows. With a whir the large motorcycle (or more like half of a small tank) took off down the tunnel, Frizz grabbing onto it as it passed him and let it pull him along.

They hadn't had this sort of activity in the tunnels since they'd moved in. And yet here they were, pursuing the heat signatures that the robots had been warning them of for the past week. They'd ignored them mostly, since nothing had interrupted their personal little section of the underground labyrinth. That was until what was definitely explosions and maybe the sound of a cave in a few minutes ago. The robots had become insistent that they were no longer alone in their hiding place and, determined to know what they would be up against before whatever it was found them, Mariya had set off with three of their private robotic army in tow to scout things out. "No engagements, please," Uncle had admonished her more than a couple times, and she didn't really have any plan of doing so. Without knowing how many there were, it was foolhardy; and anyway, what if they weren't trying to find them? After all, they'd been so well-hidden for so long, surely the whole thing had blown over by now...

"PEEK-A-BOO!"

Mariya brought her bike to a quick stop, peeking her head above the armored section that housed her. That had been close, and it was definitely a person, not a monster or whatever she'd been half expecting to stumble upon. She slid them covertly around a corner and stepped out, gesturing at Frizz, who came up obediently. "Uncle, did you hear that?"

After a short pause Pyotr's voicce came through quietly. "Yeah, must have been quite loud. How about you head back now, yeah? 'Peek-a-boo' isn't really the sort of thing our enemies would shout."

"Mmmmm, yeah, alright. I'll head back. We need to establish a perimeter, though, don't want them finding us either way."

"Already ahead of you: working on some trip mines of my own. When you get back you can put them up for us."

"Great. K, I'm on my way." Frizz let the communication die and returned to his position as Mariya fired up the bike once more. Well this would be fun: a perimeter, though she had suggested it, would be no fun. They'd be back to fearfully huddling in a tiny corner somewhere, too afraid to explore or stretch their legs, and probably to go up to the surface for good food. It would be nothing but Poptarts until the tunnels were repaired, probably: joy.

She wasn't expecting to find anyone on her way back. Sure, she wasn't using the same path that she'd come along, but whoever was down here was over by the Peek-a-boo call, and she certainly wasn't going that direction. And so her return pace was much faster and much less careful than it had been on her way there, and she didn't check the corner first before tearing around it and almost right into Jason and Alice. She shrieked something as she quickly swerved around them, the bike skidding along the ground past them until tearing into two parts that quickly reconfigured into two barricade-like walls, matched by Frizz to make a well-defended metal wall with minigun barrels jutting out behind which Mariya hid from whatever retaliation she expected. The middle gun spun up slightly as she inspected the two whom she'd nearly run over. One was an oddly-dressed fellow with some knives, and the other an innocent-looking little lady. Had she interrupted a mugging? Well that simply wouldn't do: she didn't particularly want to get involved with whatever was going on today, but since she was here already, and seemed to have the far-superior firepower in this situation, she figured it wouldn't hurt.

"Drop your weapons and step away from the lady!" the three robots declared in their different-timbered voices in unison.

Jason cracked a smile when the girl with him finally laughed. When they heard the Chrono's yell echo through the tunnels, Jason sighed. "Sure we could do that, though I suggest we hurry before the enemies catch us from behind... someone is already nearb-"

As if on cue, Jason suddenly found himself being told to step away from his fellow Asylum and was just staring blankly at the pair threatening him. They seemed to be under the impression that he was mugging the lady beside or something. "Did you bring bodyguards?" Jason asked with a raised eyebrow, finding the situation too amusing not to snark about it. "On our first date too... I don't know if I should be insulted."

In the interest of not being riddled with bullet holes, however, he stepped away as instructed. "I was just showing her some card tricks." He protested, feigning innocence - no, he WAS innocent. It didn't hurt to sell his attackers on the idea though.

This day was just getting better and better.

---

Fiora nodded at Aden's interpretation of her word. He was a bit snobbish about it but considering he was rather bruised and seemed to have a fragile body, she was willing to forgive him.

She listened to the conversation following the yell they heard. It seemed the other Asian woman wasn't very bright and Aden was a smartass. A rude one at that. The polite ones at least had the decency to talk nicely. Or shut up altogether.

"Rude." She muttered as he took the lead down to the right. She passed Seira the light around her neck, placing it around the medic's neck herself. Fiora was used to working in the dark. The woman seemed to need it more.

She had only a pistol, if Fiora remembered correctly, so the Hunter pushed the woman ahead. If they were going to move away from their enemies and towards the Chrono, it made sense for the one with more firepower to stay at the back. If only Smartass would have thought to do that instead of walking ahead.

"Rear guard." She pointed at herself while taking up the position. Aden didn't have that much of a lead but it wouldn't do to get left behind... or get chased down. "Hurry."

As they took off down the tunnel after Aden, Fiora started humming again, this time to the tune of "I Won't Say I'm in Love" from Hercules, a tune that Jason would recognise since she made him watch it whenever it was on instead of whatever thieving or magic related film he was watching. Her partner would know they were near once he heard the tune.

Baffled, Angel watched as the female viking appeared to dash upon hearing his partner's "call", her direction leading right towards the projected trajectory of the Chrono's direction. The Crimson Asylum unable to fathom the urgency, merely shrugged it off as some 'Nordic tradition' to go rampantly charging upon hearing a cry to war. The thought of his partner being in any imminent danger not even crossing his mind, the only time Rena ever lost in 'hide and seek' was when she deliberately wished to be found.

"This mission has become more troublesome than I bargained for," Angel contemplated as his finger tips gently tapped the metallic frame of his spectacles. "Classified information is being siphoned, prototype weaponry is being smuggled. Its a distraction...." The rhythmic taps suddenly stopped as silence appeared to be XIII's counsel.

"The Forsaken Kings, they are not partnered but being manipulated by the real puppeteer. We are being stalled.......of course....." Angel's gaze lazily switched towards the corner, his hands calmly retreating into the pockets of his overcoat.

"Cirque du folie has arrived in Vegas?" The Crimson Asylum inquired casually, his candour almost amusing.

"Yes they have, but you don't need to worry about them. Once we get rid of you Asylums....the Circus is next." A silhouette stood shrouded by the darkness, observing XIII from a corner. His footsteps slowly drawing near enough for him to be distinguished as a member of the Forsaken Kings. All of them possessed one quality which served as a means to identify their faction, they all branded claymores that radiated in a transcendent glow.

"My comrades have already located your partner, Lost Number. She must have had a death wish advertising her position the way she did," the King continued, his blade leaning against his shoulder as he slowly circled his prey.

"Advertising that is an interesting choice of words...."Angel replied, retaining his casual satirical demeanor. "It is also accurate, she advertised her position so that you come to her. We don't waste our time by hunting rodents." Despite the casual tone, the cruelty of these words pulsed with the stress of each syllable.

The face of the King contorted with rage, his gaze vehemently fixated at the Asylum in front of him. His cracked lips soured and slowly parting for him to spit out his rancour. "It is too bad you are going to die, I wish you could have lived to see what we are going to do with you tender little partner. We won't kill her...oh no, we will keep her very much alive. She will be fully conscious to see and feel all that we do to her. I will be sure you hear her screams all the way down to hell, that is where you are going."

With that said, the solider instantly charged towards the Asylum with his blade tightly clenched. The sword radiated a brilliant red, flames slowly manifested and danced around the edges, slithering across his body as the alchemist rushed, intending to plough through XIII, searing him.

"It has been a while," Angel mused, his gaze locked onto the rampant fool that came stampeding his way. "Since I have felt this....." As he spoke the crimson coat that he wore appeared to writhe and boil, an uncanny movement. The fabric appeared to thicken and melt, as if blood boiling and dripping to the ground only to submerge with the coat.

"Ah yes....this is rage"

.......

.......

"Oh God, what the hell ar-"

.........

......

------------------Xx----------xX---------------

"This is so boring, so boring!" The little Chrono kicked a tin can, irked at the fact her pouts were going unnoticed. "Where is everyone, I screamed so loud I am sure they heard me. Boo this is no fun," Rena complained as she continued to kick the can and follow it.

"Complaining.... is ineffective," a cold and mechanical tone echoed, chiding Rena and her immaturity.

"I don' care....its better than talking to you...you are mean and stupid!" Rena replied, clearly throwing a childish tantrum at being reprimanded by her other half.

"The probability....of us....locating the source....from following a tine can....is negligible," Rin responded in a monotone.

"Why don't you give me a figure huh, huh? How many zero's does it have?" Rena retorted, her tongue sticking out of her mouth in a futile means of mocking her own self.

"This kid is crazy, you sure she is the Chrono?" One of the Forsaken spoke, clearly confused as the rumours of Princess Massacre were quite contradictory to this little girl who appeared to be talking to an imaginary friend.

"Shut up, regardless we need to take her out, boss's orders. We are lucky the stupid brat announced her location, the bitch is already surrounded. We have alchemists positioned all across this area but luckily we are nearest to her, we may even get a bonus if we kill a Chrono all by ourselves, heck they may induct us in the council!" His partner whispered, an expression of exuberance on his face as both clenched their blades in order to attack the Chrono who was mere feet away.

"Hey brother...."

"What? We need to be focused here damn it!"

"I can't hear the sound of the tin can...."

"Oh shit!" The alchemist shouted, both of them turning around only to be staring at the muzzle of the Chrono's pistols.

"Nighty night!" The prodigy chirped innocently before pulling the triggers, leaving the two bodies with anti alchemic rounds buried in their skulls.

"Yay two down, two down!" Rena clapped happily while twirling, however as soon as her little victory dance finished the child found herself staring at nearly a dozen reinforcements.

"Ooh poopie!"

That is all the little Chrono could say before a massive explosion appeared to ignite the tunnel

Seira fingered the necklace tentatively as Fiora slipped it over her neck. She brought the pendant up to her eyes to inspect it carefully before she was ushered along. The youngest of the three raised the mounted photoluminescent rock above her head. The chain was just long enough. Still the light was barely enough to illuminate the path for Aiden. Not that it matters. The man was plowing ahead with even steps. He totally ignored the two women behind him.

“You know it wouldn’t hurt if you were a tad friendlier.”

Silence lapsed once more. Aiden refused to reply, and Fiora was humming a sappy little tune. Seira sighed and continued walking between the older two. This was like walking through a haunted house, but without, the fun and the jump scares. What a bunch of kill joys! The female newbie hummed along with Fiora. It was the least she could do was pretend they were engaged in some sort of camaraderie.

Aiden stumbled slightly. Before long he found himself plunging downwards. The tiny source of light was rapidly fading like a dimming star. Despite the nasty shock he managed to remain silent. Soon he tumbled a little as he slid downwards. He heard clicking as the heels of his leather shoes knocked against something metallic. Tentatively he stretched out his hands and let them brushed against the cool surface. Judging by the feel the metal was new. This means that they were close to their enemies. Trust the Chrono to land right in the center of danger zone.

Seira called out as she heard something soft thud followed by a series of clicking and scrapping. She clutched the edge of the hole as she shone the light futilely down the shaft. “Are you there?”

“Yes Alice. Why don’t you jump after the white rabbit?” answered a muffled voice.

“What?” She yelled in response. She could barely make out the word ‘jump’. Aiden sounded like he was really far below. She hoped he wasn’t more battered than he already was. The rookie stood up.

“Jump!”

Seira nearly jumped out of her skin. She stepped back at the last moment thus preventing herself from falling headlong after Aiden. Gosh! She had forgotten Fiora was standing beside her. When did Fiora stop humming? Seira watched as the older Asian female walked confidently towards the edge. She wanted to yell for the woman to stop. She leaned forward to grab Fiora’s arm when the woman reached out and grab her wrist. The medic didn’t get the chance to protest before she felt the sniper grab her hand. Seira gasped as she was pulled along. Soon she and Fiora were plunging down the gaping hole.

__________________________________________

???
__________________________________________

Aiden tsked loudly as both women fell in a heap at his feet. He didn’t even bother to help them up. Instead he shushed them even before they had the chance to say anything. He shook his head and clicked his tongue as the two tried to untangle themselves.

“I hear footsteps,” he said softly.

“No shit, genius.”

“Being a medic doesn’t mean other Asylums will protect you.”

Seira bit back her next few words. Her anger was boiling over. This guy is worse than a pmsing woman. Geez. Why can’t he cut them some slack? She stood up and shone the light overhead. She swung slowly from left to right. The cavern was huge. No matter how far to the left or right she swung the pendant she couldn’t find the walls. She began bringing the light back to the center when Aiden grabbed her wrist and pulled it down. Within those few split seconds she noticed a group stopped barely thirty feet away from where they are.

“Idiot! You are giving our position away.”

“Addy, I saw something,” she protested.

“Fine.” He breathed out loudly. He gripped her wrist tightly before letting go. "Stop calling me Addy or you will be sorry."

Seira shone the light in the direction of the group once more. It was hard to make out the person in front. He seemed to be swathed in black all over. The only thing visible was the whites of his eyes. The newbie focused the light on the person standing immediately behind. She gasped as she took in the ruffled blonde hair, the deep blue eyes and the boyish face. Camron!

Camron said “Hey! Seira!”

The Japanese woman was about to yell for her partner to pipe down when an explosion shook the whole cavern. She gasped as she felt two arms grab her and pull her down. The necklace flew out of her hand. The young woman lay on the rough stone ground pinned between the other two Asylums in her group. Her shadow disappeared under her and then stretched off to the left merging perfectly with Aiden’s. Bright reds and oranges bathed the entire area. The light caused her eyes to water. When the heat dissipated she jerked her head up and quickly pressed a finger to her lips. Knowing her partner he would be blurting something unnecessary. The light died and the whole cavern was plunged into darkness again.

One by one different colored lights began to light up the room with their soft glow. Seira twisted to her side till she could get a good view of the mass pushing into the cavern. There was no mistaking the claymores. It was the same group they fought earlier. She squinted as she tried to count how many enemies there were. From what she could make out, they were easily outnumbered one is to two. Damn! Where were the other teams?

“Don’t just sleep there, idiots! Fight!” Aiden yelled as he got his feet.

The man in the suit whipped out his Walter p22, and fired several shots in succession. The two kings leading the charge fell to the ground as the bullets caught them between the eyes. Their comrades staggered back a step or two. An angry bellow rang from the king brandishing a whitish blue claymore. He swung his claymore in Aiden’s direction and icicles flew towards the Asylum. The frozen tips glinted as the icy bolts raced towards their mark. Aiden promptly dropped to the ground, and rolled aside. Several of the projectiles vanished into the darkness. The gentleman Asylum raised his gun once more and returned fire. Blood burst forth the jugular side man’s throat. The king gurgled before crumbling to the ground on top of his claymore.

Seira held onto her gun as well as she dashed towards her partner. She remained as low as possible. The young woman threw herself on top of him as a bolt of lightning crashed overhead. White spots danced across her eyes from where she lay. She scrunched her eyes closed and shook her head. By the time she looked up, her assailant lay in a pool of blood. The king had been shot once in the chest and another time in the neck.

“Thanks.” The Japanese woman said with a smile.

Turning back to the group at hand she held her gun straight. Seira waited for hand to steady itself before she fired. The bullet hit the man in the ankle and he dropped to the ground. His claymore lay a good distance away. She bit her lower lip as she kept her gun aimed at the injured King. Somehow she cannot bring herself to take the final shot.

“You’re weak,” the hooded girl taunted the shaking medic.

Jax grinned as she kicked the man in the head. She giggled with delight as the king groaned and fell to his back. His eyes brimmed with fear as her blade gleamed in the flashing light. The French teen grinned like a Cheshire cat and stabbed him repeatedly in the throat. She licked her lips as blood splashed all over her.

“More! More, more!” She yelled deliriously as she spun on the spot. Her eyes held a maniacal gleam as she eyed the rest of her prey. A couple of the kings stared in confusion.

“Jax! Focus!” Aiden commanded as he shot the king rushing towards his partner. Pieces of broken ice showered the floor as the claymore clattered on the ground. The man dug deep into his pocket. Where was his Advil when he needed it? The whole mess is making his migraine worse.

Rich grabbed the teen by his shoulder as the boy was about to exit. He pointed to the gun and held out his hand. Cam quirked an eyebrow but complied nonetheless. The tanned man checked Puppy’s cartridge. Two shots left. He reached into his pocket and fished out another six bullets. Cam better be lucky, because there was no way in hell that he would ever stop do a refill in the thick of battle. MIX then handed Puppy back to the rookie.

“Use the shots sparingly. You only get six hits then you’re done.”

Camron nodded hesitantly as he took back the gun. Six shots? That was not a very comforting thought. How many people can he even hope to incapacitate with just six bullets? Two or three at most. The lad eyed Sela quickly, but the lady in the shimmery black dress was ignoring both of them. Her eyes remained trained ahead; they were staring straight into the darkness. Her paler tanned arms were crossed in front of her chest, and her right foot tapping impatiently. She gripped the boy’s upper arm in a vice-like grip as Camron tried to push pass her.

“Richard, you go in front.”

“Seriously Sel?”

“Yes “mon”. You can be our human shield.”

“What happens to the we will cherish each other.”

“Love, you forgot the most salient point, it is till death do us part.”

Rich faked a sobbed. “I feel so loved.”

“Yeah, yeah. And Cam is our love child.”

Both halves of Love Burns grimaced simultaneously. Sela shuddered at the thought. No fucking way will she ever have such a wimpy son! It definitely helped that Rich felt the same way. They hadn’t had the chance to discuss potential offspring during their short honeymoon, but well, they ought to do so soon. It’s not like they had all the time in the world. The average age of an Asylum is thirty five, and that is if the duo were extremely lucky. She cleared her throat as her husband stepped out of the cave. She faked a smile as she turned back to the scrawny boy.

“No offense, boy. I hope my child will be a more capable Asylum.”

“Erm… none taken?”

“Good.”

__________________________________________

???
__________________________________________

The three Asylums trudged steadily downwards. The tunnel grew dimmer and dimmer by the second. Before they knew it, they were standing on flat ground, in what appeared to be a huge underground cavern of sorts. Rich took off his sunglasses and peered into the impenetrable darkness. He swung out his arm, catching Camron in the stomach. The boy groaned, but the older Asylum quickly clamped his hand over the teen’s mouth. A bright light shone from up ahead. Based on the size of the beam, that had to be either it was the tiniest flashlight Rich had ever seen or it was something else all together. MIX pulled his skateboard free as he pushed the boy back. He brought his arm up to shield his eyes. He could barely make out how many were in the group. His pupils contracted slightly as his eyes began to water. He blinked back the tears till his eyes became accustomed to the light. Soon he noticed a familiar outline - the unmistakable hair up in the bun and the pale skin – yup it was that homewrecking strumpet – or should he say Camron’s partner, Seira.

“Hey! Seira!”

Camron’s enthusiastic greeting was cut short when a loud bang shook the whole cavern. The stream of flames lit up the entire area. The young musician brought his head up from where he lay on the ground. He surveyed her companions as she did the same. He recognized the man in the suit, but who was the other chinky girl? He opened his mouth to ask yet another question. However his partner quickly brought a finger to her lips. He saw it for just a brief moment before the flames died out. He blinked a little as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a reddish-blue glow. Cam looked to his left. He held his breath as his eyes widened in horror. There were men brandishing glowing claymores – so many of them – the six of them were way outnumbered. Oh god! Those men were charging straight at them.

“Don’t just sleep there, idiots! Fight!” Aiden yelled as he got his feet.

Team Love Burns scrambled to their feet. The couple looked at one another. Rich nodded and Sela sighed. This was going to be fun! A flash of black shot forward towards the other two kings. Sela dropped into a low crouch as she swung her fans outwards in a wide arch in front of herself. Her skirt flared out slightly revealing her legs. An evil smile graced her lips. Two stragglers. Perfect. She whistled to attract their attention.

“Over here bitches. Mama has a lil something for you royal pain in the arses.”

“Oi Sel! Where are you manners? We need to show these stuffed shirts some respect.”

Sela snorted in response. She folded her right fan and used it to block the incoming claymore. Red sparks flew from the huge empowered blade. “Back in the kitchen, Rich, where the knives are.”

Rich chuckled as he spiked his bet’leth onto the ground and leaned against the handle. “No wonder you are a lousy cook. You season too conservatively for your own good."

The Viking and the…Angel?

Thora had launched herself into a sprint upon hearing the Chrono’s voice because that girl was their meal ticket. She had expected Angel to care enough to follow her, and as such she assumed the spectacled man would be behind her. After a solid 30 seconds of sprinting, Thora turned around to ask the Lost Number where they should go next, only to find that he wasn’t there. She’d lost him?

“Shit. How the hell am I supposed to find the Chrono now?” Thora swore, kicking a pebble as she looked around the tunnels. She was in a four way intersection, and she had a hard choice to make. Left maybe? Forward? Right, even? A one-in-three chance was the difference between finding the boss and probably all the other Asylums and getting lost.

“Hey, hey, hey li’l’ puta: No need to worry ‘bout that li’l girle…” Thora sighed heavily as she looked down the right hand path. There was a small group of Claymore wielding people, led in particular by some Hispanic schmuck with a bandana. The Forsaken Kings, to be sure. “…Worry about yourself, Vagabunda. Li’l girl like you, no powers and stuck all alone? Must be pretty fucking terrifying. Tell you what. If you get down on your knees and suck my dick, I’ll let you live lo…”

The words of the lead King were silenced as a metal spike pierced through his skull, splattering the group of five others behind with the grey matter of their former boss. Thora smiled as she looked past the dead man to the others. “Tell you what. If you little shits want to point me in the direction of the Chrono: I won’t take great pleasure in killing you all, and instead let you piss yourselves as you run away. Deal?”

The Kings, it seemed, took offence to the insults of one declawed Alchemist, and each drew their claymores. One at the back was a little slower to draw the blade: one that looked way too young to be in a gang. Thora singled him out with a smile: bingo

Without a second more hesitation, the Asylum launched herself into the fray. She was upon the first King in a second, cutting past a wild swing with the claymore and cutting off both wrists, before driving the leaf sword from his chin up and through the top of his skull. She spotted two more of the Kings charging up a piece of Vocum Alchemy, and she charged forward to meet them head on, with the corpse of the swordsman still in between them and her.

A torrent of fire erupted from the pair, and Thora knew she’d be incinerated if not for the meat-shield she’d acquired. After the stream of fire ended, she lobbed the corpse at the furthest guy, knocking him down as she slammed a fist into the closer King’s nose. She glanced at the kid at the back, shaking and quaking in his boots, scared shitless of the show. He was already beaten, and she didn’t even worry about him.

Following up on the punch, Thora yanked the wrist mounted javelin from the Portugese Pendejo’s skull and jammed it into the stunned guy’s chest. Hearing the satisfying death scream, she twisted the javelin: getting the thrill from combat that made her such a damn good Silencer. She didn’t need alchemy or guns to put a person down. She was a goddamn warrior!

Deciding to put the screamer out of his misery, Thora jammed Sleipnir through his eye socket. “Then there were two little bitches. Now, are you ready to piss yourselves running yet…’kings’” She grinned at the mocking tone of the last word, daring the claymore wielding weaklings to charge forward. The kid stood where he was, but the other King was muttering alchemical words. He clearly planned to try and end it. “Wrong choice.” She lashed out with the wrist-mounted weapon, but instead of piercing the man, she managed to wrap the heavy steel rope around his throat three times, bringing him to his knees as he began to choke. She yanked on the mechanism, dragging him towards her as his face turned blue. “Right then kid: here is your choice. You have about thirty seconds before this guy chokes, and about ten seconds before I snap his neck. In that time, tell me where the Chrono is.”

The kid looked terrified as he watched the life ebb out of the last living fighter. All of the fight was gone from the hallway, replaced with devastation and gore. No doubt, the Angel would have a trail to follow, at least. His voice cracked as he spoke out to Thora. “Th…The Chrono is down this corridor. Three lefts from now, just let me go: please!” Thora smiled at the kid, before jerking on the rope and snapping the choking king’s neck.

“Clever kid, but I don’t trust a man who was part of a group trying to kill me a few seconds ago. We are both going to go meet the Chrono. Then, maybe you get to leave: or maybe she eats you. Who knows?”

The sound of an explosion shook dust and debris from the roof of the hallway. Thora felt a glimmer of worry, but hid it from her new found prisoner. “Hop to it then.”

---

Barnabus and the Bear…and a little girl.

---

Upon hearing Barnabus’ suggestion for a formation, Bjorn quickly agreed. It was the most logical grouping, even if it had Barnabus in a much safer position, with a gun pointed at his back. The logic was that Barnabus had yet to show any signs of holding a grudge, so there seemed little point in bickering past what was the most ideal formation, just to protect his back. After all, if he didn’t hurry up and locate the Chrono, it wasn’t the bullet of some Alchemy-less Asylum he’d have to worry about.

Bjorn forced a quick pace as he half-ran, half-sprinted through the hallways. His sound-specialisation was proving useful, as he’d used the single shout from the Chrono to paint a sort of mental trail to follow. It was like a small scale version of echolocation, although it only identified the right way to go. They weren’t far from the Chrono, all things considered.

A tunnel or so away from the location of the shout, Bjorn heard two gunshots. The closeness of the bullets had him worried about the primary target, as she had clearly made contact with enemies. As such, Bjorn launched himself into a sprint: his long strides leading him ahead of Barnabus and leaving the other Asylum in his wake. He arrived in time to see the Chrono all alone, as well as a few other enemies: but something caught his ear, the sound of something tapping against the wet floor, something…Thrown?

“Oh fuck.”

He leaped in front of the Chrono, crouching down and bringing Anvil up in time to block the grenade. The force of the explosion was dampened somewhat by the shield, but the force was enough to send agony through his shoulder. It knew it was likely dislocated, but that didn’t matter. The explosion was stopped, as he looked down at the small figure of the Chrono. “Are you okay?” He offered a small, comforting smile, ignoring the pain as he held the shield up in order to block any bullets incoming.

In the midst of her jokingly flirting with Jason, some sort of motorcycle, one she had never seen before, came hurtling into the chamber; the cycle split in two to avoid hitting the two Asylums and then reformed into a barrier of sorts complete with a gattling gun that was pointed at Jason. Alice stood and stared for a moment, not entirely sure how to react to the sudden appearance of the girl on the cycle. The gun remained pointing at Jason, not her, which confused her even more. Alice barely heard Jason’s reaction to the newcomer over the robots’ mechanized orders, but turned toward him upon hearing it.

“Bodyguards? You insult me, sir. I can guard my own body. As for the first date, maybe when we get out of here,” Alice said the last bit with an amused smirk and a small laugh. When Jason complied to the order of backing away from her, she couldn’t help but redirect her gaze to the gattling gun, which appeared to be spinning slightly. Alice made a subtle movement of her wrist to get ahold of a few of the gas pellets on one of her bracelets while stepping between Jason and the gun. The person behind the barrier didn’t seem to be one of the Kings, as they were known to carry claymores imbued with their alchemy.

“He wasn’t mugging me. We just happened upon this area in an unfortunate turn of events above ground. You seem to be the helpful sort. How’s about you help us find our friend? She’s the little girl that just screamed ‘peek-a-boo’ for the whole of Vegas to hear.”

Alice kept a firm grip on the gas pellets, ready to throw them down and pull Jason to the nearest exit if the situation got any worse than it already was.

---

Barnabas fell in step behind Bjorn, glad that the larger man trusted him enough to follow his plans. Now it was time for Barnabas to trust Bjorn’s sense of hearing to locate the Chrono; from he had witnessed at the base, Barnabas had finally inferred that Bjorn’s alchemy was Sound Manipulation, which meant he should be able to find the Chrono a lot easier than he could just from a short yell like the one they were following now through the dark tunnels beneath Vegas. Barnabas kept his revolver at chest height, ready to shoot any enemies he saw; he also switched the silencer mechanism off, as it seemed pointless now to keep their location a mystery. He figured that the whole tunnel system would be filled with fighting soon as each team from AMRO tried to center on the Chrono.

No sooner had he thought that, then he heard two gunshots ahead of them down the tunnel. He quickened his pace to keep up with Bjorn, but stopped at the end of the tunnel instead of rushing into the room as Bjorn had. Barnabas noticed Bjorn look down and off ahead of him and the Chrono, then he heard the man utter two words, “Oh fuck.” These words were never good to hear from anyone. Barnabas threw himself to the ground as Bjorn threw himself in front of the Chrono. The room filled with noise and heat, followed by debris and dust. When the explosion was over, Barnabas brought himself up into a sitting position. Luckily the tunnel hadn’t caved in on top of him, but he was covered in dust that was shook loose by the force of the explosion. He brushed himself off as he stood up and walked into the room and up to Bjorn and the Chrono.

“Are you two alright?”

"Oh, alright then." The barricade came down, the three bots separating and moving apart slightly so that Mariya could step from behind them and out where she could be seen.

"Sorry about the misunderstanding, but it looked like he was mugging you. It is dark down here, would be a good place for a mugging, I guess." This time she didn't use the robots to talk for her, so they could hear her real voice. She turned on the robot's headlights, and the area was flooded with light. She squinted through the sudden brightness at the two of them. It was one thing to see them with her robots' sensors, and another thing to see them in full color with her own. Now that she got a full look at them, she felt a bit sheepish about the whole misunderstanding. The fellow whom she'd accused of mugging was well-dressed: dirty, but tidy and respectable-looking. The lady she'd "saved" looked rough and spy-like: certainly not the damsel-in-distress sort.

And they were friends with the "peek-a-boo" girl? Well, that was a bummer. She'd been hoping to avoid whoever that was altogether; having someone that loud around was just begging to be found by someone more dangerous. After all, it wasn't safe down here. But if she sent them on their way, she'd be able to gracefully extricate herself without letting them know where she was going.

"Yeah, sure. She was just that way, and then you take a left, and sounded like she was two rights down from that." She wasn't pointing them in the wrong direction, per se, but she definitely didn't know that specifically. Her hearing wasn't that specific, not like she was a bat or anything, but they'd be on the right course and she'd be able to move along, herself. She gave a shrug and Ralphie and Carlos formed into her bike again. As she was climbing on, though, she turned back questioningly. "How many of you are there?" She glanced between the dozens of heat signatures down that tunnel and the two brighter spots of her temporary companions.