Luciel froze as Ace thanked him. It was unexpected...and something else. The hue of his eyes fading back to the dull amber as he set the bowl down and watched her chase after Apollo.
He did not follow.

Instead, they sighed, looking over at Drex who'd been quiet for the longest time. Shaking his head before letting it hang, he laid down on the couch to stare at the ceiling, thinking he heard something on the roof. Luciel assumed it was the unintroduced boy...

Apollo looked over at Ace as she made her way across the roof. He looked up at the stars and said "I haven't seen them much either, so I'd rather stay up here and sleep under the stars." He let the orbs dissipate and then said "plus I prefer getting my warmth from the sun when it rises and this is the best spot to get it from." He smiled after saying that because he always enjoyed the sunrise.

"i see... the sunshine must be how you can use your powers, right? and even if that is the case; it'll still be cold for a few more hours" Ace replied as she tensed up from the cold air. she relaxed as she set her hands on fire then rubbed them together to create embers on the palms of her hands. she rubbed her arms and shoulders to warm herself. however, though Ace herself couldn't burn, her shirt could, causing the embers to burn holes through the sleves of her shirt, further exposing the scar on the right side of her neck and upper torso.
"tch! dangit! maybe i should consider wearing armor instead of clothing..." Ace scowled at her burnt shirt before returning her attention back to Apollo and grinned with a hint of laughter. "my name is Ace, it's a pleasure to make your aquaintance!"

Medburn was now, for the most part, silent. Debris, broken glass, shell casings, and bits of viscera still lined the streets, but the gunfire was gone. As the national guard moved in to secure the town and clean up what little remained of the resistance, they were puzzled to find that none of the corpses of the Hexes Storm Hound accounted for were able to be found. Their interaction with Storm Hound was brief. Members of the unit helped the national guard get the remaining scattered, hiding, despairing civilians to shelter and supplied. As Kyle came down from his combat stims, his heart was wrenched as he surveyed the destruction the Hexes had wrought against the helpless populace of Medburn. "Never again, not on my watch." He snapped.

Storm Hound were slumped in their seats as the three Schwarzkopf transports set off once again. Just as soon as they were done cleaning up in Medburn, they were immediately transmitted orders to assist the effort to bring down the escaped prisoners. But for now, they were fatigued. Whatever was pumped into their lungs by the rebreathers could only keep them on their feet for so long, and it led to great exhaustion once the dose wore off. The excited chatter that made up their dialogue in trip before their last battle and during it was replaced with tired yawns. It would be another half an hour before they were allowed their next hit of the stuff. Despite this, the unit kept their rebreather masks on. Though their primary purpose was to administer the drugs, they were still able to serve in the capacity of NBC protection, with extendable hoods and goggles built into their suits to provide full protection. The present issue that necessitated them wasn't quite that severe; it was the third Schwarzkopf. Only Kyle and its non-Storm Hound personnel that operated it were allowed near it. The mysterious men assigned to it were clad in full body protective gear. The secrecy of the vehicle and its operations only made the extreme stench emanating from it even more mysterious. It wasn't pleasant, whatever it was.

Apollo was thought he recognized the scar on her neck, but only got a quick glimpse at it. He then said "My name is Apollo" he smiled after saying it, because it was the first time he had ever met someone who was similar to him.

"Apollo huh...? Well then, Apollo I must say I envy you. Your powers are so beautiful!" Ace replied she then paused as she noticed the scar on Apollo's cheek.
Hesitantly, she asked, "does it hurt? The scar, I mean. And if you don't mind me asking... Where did you get it?"

David finally found a house he thought was worth the break in. One blink later and he found himself in a very fancy, modern living. "The people who own this must be extremely rich! Maybe doctors?" he said to himself. Speaking to himself was a habit he picked up in prison, where there is nobody to talk to. There was nothing in the kitchen he deemed important enough to take with him. So he went upstairs. The bedroom was equally fancy decorated. With a strange swirling piece of abstract art. "Is there nothing I can use!?"

But then he found the rather large study. The desk was surprisingly old school, compared to the clinically white walls and the modern computer sitting on it. On the desk were several files. Their symbol caught David's attention. The symbol of the prison. Curiosity captured him, made him open the file.



David finally understood what the files were. In an angry flash he threw the files on the ground. Several hundred papers fell down. They were filled with information. Blood type. Birth parents. Adoption parents. Files from every Hex in the prison. But that didn't sate his anger. No, for a matter of fact, it made everything worse. When he saw the picture of the family. The older man with what was his son or grand-daughter. "Why should they get a peaceful life!? Why am I cursed!?" The anger was too much. He stormed downstairs. His darker self-taking over. Downstairs he easily found a bottle of scotch, a newspaper and a lighter. A few seconds later and he was standing with a lit Molotov cocktail just outside the study. "Burn!"

When David was almost back at the first home, the smoke was rising outside. The study didn't have a window, so it was rising out the bedroom, indicating that room was probably burning too. It was written all over David's face that he had done it. And more importantly, there was something murderously dark in his eyes.

Apollo's eyes looked down "This power is only good for one thing" He then looked out across the forest. "To Kill!" He said with a serious face and as he said that a orb appeared over his right shoulder and fired a beam into the woods making a explosion a few miles away. He looked at her and said "The scar is from when I first realized my powers and I hit myself with it." He then saw the smoke coming out from a different spot from where is he fired. "someone else did something that will attract more attention." He said

Ace looked at Apollo concerned and paused, then finally replied, "you aren't a weapon. I don't think that your powers were awakened just so you could kill others. I think they awakened in you to protect the people close to your heart.... I know that it's cheesy and naive but I want to believe that is why we have these powers.... Sorry...." She looked down apologetically; she felt terrible and on the verge of tears.
"I think I should go back inside..." She murmured as she stood up and started to leave.

Apollo didn't move but then said "believing that is not cheesy or naive" He then made two more orbs appear next to him and said "But I was raised to believe that my only purpose was to fight." He then went quiet.

Apollo's response startled Ace making her freeze in her tracks. Ace replied as she revealed the scar on her neck and upper torso, "though I cannot be burned now, I received this scar right before my powers awoke. When I was dying... In order to save my family from a fire... This scar is my reminder that I chose to protect the ones I love.... And I tell you this because I think you should find out why your powers awoke on your own... And not just automatically believe what others say your purpose is..." She then turned and smiled at Apollo for a moment.
"You should come inside tonight... You'll catch a cold if you stay out here..." She said then went back in the house.
Ace made her way to the she shower and took a warm bath. It had been a while since she experienced the luxuries of being a human, so she decided to enjoy it while she had the chance to wash up. After cleaning herself up, she dried off and put her old clothes back on. Ace tugged on the collar of her shirt and sighed, then walked back into the living room and plopped onto the couch. Her hair was still damp but she didn't care, she layed down and closed her eyes.

David just came around the corner into the living as Ace dropped herself on the couch. Instead of the normal dark eyes he had, they were now almost glowing a faint purple-like light. Like a predator he could almost hear her heart beating in her chest. He could almost smell the sweet blood calling for him. Like a whisper in the back of his skull. Like a craving. But he resisted, and shook himself awake. He had been listening on what she told the boy, Apollo. How Hexes are not weapons, but how they are supposed to protect their loved ones. Like shields or guardian angels.

He opened his clenched fist in front of him, and formed his claws. The claws looked black-purplish and made from a crystalline material. Sharp enough to shred a man's flesh. "You can't claim Hexes are made to protect when your power resolves around being an apex predator." He said, to no-one in particular, as he assumed that Ace was asleep. It was a theory he had made up in the prison. When he was caught, he first resisted arrest. A cop died trying to arrest him. It was the first time he saw his own claws. That in combination with the blink ability, led him to believe that this Hex-power made him the ultimate predator. That he was meant to be the top of the natural food chain.

He chuckled at himself as he collapsed in a comfortable seat and pulled his knees up to his chin, with his arms around him. His face was a mixture of sadness and thinking. Should I hate myself for what I am? A born killer? Or do I protect people by killing others? Protecting lives by taking lives?

Ace noticed David enter the living room and opened her eyes. Though she was half asleep, she noticed David's sadness and dark claws. Ace stood up and sleepily walked over to David and hugged him tightly. "It's okay... It's okay... You're safe now..." She replied trying to soothe David. "There is no need to be scared..." Ace lightly touched David's hand.

Stallman fled into a nearby village, having walked for a good while and avoided detection by the expanding swarm of police force personnel.

Not too far from the place where the hexes were hiding out, he sighed. It was getting late; too late, in fact. He would be sleeping now, most days.

He found a bench on the side of the road and curled up on it, too tired to do much else and looking like a homeless bum in the process. The faint sounds of sirens were in the distance, along with a strange smokey smell.

---

Halthar had talked with the prison personnel all day and well into the evening. He had heard everything from exaggerated tales that would place the attackers at level S to a more interesting story about an employee who had acted suspicious and promptly vanished.

He once again was dragged out, joining a small team of police force personnel to investigate the burning house.

“Wasn’t this one of the doc’s houses?” he asked the sergeant, who had been equally busy all day ever since he came to the prison.

“Yep. Actually the lead scientist’s. Judging from what we could see, it was an arson job.”

Halthar considered this. The escapees were making a line; they went from the prison and somehow knew that this was the house of the lead scientist. One of the escaped hexes no doubt was a culprit, and a level A at that.

“Alright, secure the town, go door to door. And make sure the other docs are protected, we don’t need more bodies on our hands.”

The sergeant nodded and walked out.

Apollo stood up and looked out at the woods for a bit and then decided to go back inside the house where he lined up the chairs in the kitchen and laid across them so that he faced the front door. He then fell a sleep but was in a light sleep state so anyone entering the room would wake.

Drex was behind the others by a good 70-80 ft. He stopped a while back to put out the fire, he was caught by a couple guards and had to kill them. He now was circling the village in the surrounding forest, he had found a house near the edge of the forest on the far side away from the prison. The door was unlocked and he went in. It Wasts a simple, but at the same time, elegant house. It had sky blue walls, crown molding, stainless steel appliances. It had two bedrooms and two bathrooms. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, he found an apple and began to eat it. Night was falling and sleep had come opon him. He crawled onto the couch and fell asleep.

Luciel cracked an eye open after the events took place. He never really slept for the same reason he didn't finish what he'd served himself. "Our powers are tools..." He mused aloud before giving a tired sigh, assuming he'd have to be on watch for the entire night, seeing how everything was going. "...as much as the humans hate it, they know we are people. People use tools and being a hex is like being born half-gun" He went on as he sat up, rubbing his eyes before his hands moved to rub his temples. "When it comes down to it, knowing how to use a tool saves the user considerable frustration" standing and carrying the pot into the kitchen to put the leftovers into a tupperware container along with various cans he had picked out to take with them and leaving many more aside; ingredients for cooking which David had told him not to, regardless of the explosions that their comrades created at regular intervals...

"It is ultimately up to the wielder to determine how the tool is used..." Luciel muttered, his words growing less annoyed and more sincere, his point coming from the heart as he sat to put his boots on, "...and what it is used upon."
With that, they stood and made their way to the door, taking their turn to leave mysteriously, only without explanation. As he closed the door, a faint whisper wafted into the room of his final musings, "...and are held responsible for their actions"

I had forgotten my coat, but it didn't matter much. With a sweep of my arms, the silken fungal makeup of my shirt washed ink black and bulked into a long coat belted down the chest which a vibrant red tie was tucked into. With each step, the heels of my boots worked down into respectable flat-soled boots. I wanted to stand on top of my mountain and yell. I want to wake up and break off this lake of hell and I feel like a bitch for letting my words twist me up...
My headache was getting worse and I had never needed a drink worse in my entire life. I just had to get out of there. It was the same story about how a bunch of kids didn't understand themselves to know exactly why they belonged in a hole...perhaps not being treated like rabid animals, but half of them couldn't be trusted and the other half were volatile.
The only difference was that this was the last time.
Apollo is a good example of what I should have been. It would have been easier if I didn't have the taste of freedom in my mouth to cloud my judgment. I was given a fancy armlet to fill that gap...
Half a block and one door kicked in, later, and I was reunited with my choice poison.

A tall whisky sour was my mistress of the night as well as a flask for the road. Heh, if they knew I was twenty six, they'd be certain to ask more questions. I opted to take the night off, since I had so few left. Even still, I had a better view of the house from the outside and would use that as my reasoning...as well as a calculated flank, if things suddenly went south. I prayed the distant sirens were the echos of other people's problems from the recent explosion. Clinking the ice in my glass, I rested on a park bench where some bum who hadn't gotten the memo decided it was a good idea to call home for the night. Company was company...

"Good evening..." Luciel sighed, softly, hoping his movement wasn't enough to rouse the hobo who he assumed was passed out from robo-tripping or something. The idea of having an incoherent wall to talk at enticed the albino almost as much as the burn of the first sip.

For a second, David wanted nothing more than that hug. He would wish that time would literly freeze. It was the first human contact he had in 4 years. Even from before the prison. I am scared...Why am I scared? I should be the leader of this group...I wanted to be the leader of this group. Leaders aren't afraid! "No..." he simply whispered, and then vanished in between Ace's arms. Only to appear a few feet away from her, standing straight up. "No! I am not scared and I do not need pity! I- It's wasted on me!" he shouted. Though the words were not entirely sincere. For a few seconds silence dominated the room.

With a much calmer voice he said: "Listen...Ace. I'm sorry. But I know what I am. It may not keep me happy constantly. But it gives me happiness every now and then. And I can live with that." Though Ace couldn't know it, but David refered to the high he got when he killed a person.

Ace paused for a moment and let the silence sink in, then started to chuckle and then turned into laughter. She then turned around and faced David with an intense, cold look in her eyes that showed the intent of murder. "I pity no one..." She replied, her words and voice were sharper and more painful than the cold kiss of steel. She meant it, too. Ace pitied no one but she cared for everyone, especially the ones closest to her.
"Let's get one thing straight. It's okay to be afraid. It's okay to be pitied. And any pity or concern given to you by the ones who care about you is not wasted. I don't know what makes you feel 'happy' and at the moment I don't care. What I care about right now is that you understand that the kindness I have to offer you is because I actually give a damn about you. And that you shall receive no pity from me."
Though she gives the appearance of a child; the look in her eyes would at the very least startle someone. Though she had no real intention to harm David, she had to make sure that he understood.

David natural reaction at the cold smile was: Kill it! He listened carefully, with the ears of his predator self. The little voice in the back of his skull got louder again. Like when he threw that Molotov. It kept pushing its will. Kill! Kill! Kill! He felt almost desperate for blood. Desperate for release. In his hand formed something. A small spike, about half a foot long. It slowly grew. "I don't need kindness!" he yelled, as he threw the spike, but not at Ace. He threw it right, away from him. It pierced a wall.

Exhausted and out of breath he collapsed in his seat. A lot calmer he said to Ace: "I- Thanks for caring. No-one ever did. I'm sorry for that...reaction. I'm not really used to kindness. It feels almost weird to me..." he told her, sounding somewhat defeated. He did feel that way, but not defeated by her. He felt defeated by his own power, breaking control. Though, then a small smile formed. "Know what. You look after me, and I'll look after you. Deal?"