[center]The Viking and the…Angel?[/center] 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: [i]bingo[/i] 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.” --- [Center]Barnabus and the Bear…and a little girl.[/Center] --- 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.