"How long has it been since we got a day off?" The notorious Silver Reaper murmured in a dull monotone, his hands clasped around a wine glass filled with strawberry shake and laced with chocolate wafers. His eyes, veiled behind his silver tinted spectacles, casually scanning the room and the dozens of individuals that appeared to be glaring back, silently expressing their aversion to his presence. "Is it really that blasphemous to have a strawberry shake in a wine glass? He thought to himself, blaming the awkward atmosphere on his drink as opposed to the more probable rationale, namely the six foot metal coffin which he had brought along with him.

"Uh-- like a week ago," came the reply from across the table where sat the Reaper's accomplice, her tone far too adorable to succeed in her attempts to reprimand her partner. "Everyone thinks we are super lazy! Terra calls me 'The Lazy Princess', do you get a silly cute nick name? No!" She continued, pouting and venting while tilting her head from side to side, her blonde pigtails flailing about.

"I am sorry, are we discussing nick names? You realize....people call me Angel because of you, right?" He snapped back, his eyebrow raised as if calling 'check' all the while evading his partner's subtle attempts of stealing his drink.

"If you don't like that name then why do you make all those stupid dramatic catch phrases?" The little porcelain doll retorted, a mischievous smile spread across her innocent face. "You can call me Angel; of what you may ask? Why your misfortune," the princess spoke, feigning an intimidating accent while pretending to adjust the frame of her non-existent glasses.

"I do no- well no, that was actually quite accurate, touché Rena touché," Angel murmured, the meekness of his tone revealing the Reaper had accepted defeat after witnessing that performance. "Did you happen to check the mural, it was recently painted," Angel spoke once more, after swallowing the awkward two minutes of self-loathing, his fingers pointing upwards.

"Oh wow, oh wow!" Rena exclaimed with jaw dropped, her eyes enchanted by the masterful painting that spanned across the entire roof of this establishment. The mural showed a snake eating it's own tail, the "Ouroboros" which was also the name of the bar in which the Chrono and the Lost Number were seated, along with countless other alchemists.

There exist a multitude of these bars, the "Ouroboros", spread around the globe and all of them serve as a neutral zone for all alchemists, be it Asylum, Chrono or rogue. It exists as a place where one can seek solace from persecutes, a mediating ground, to buy or sell information or for lunatics to enjoy a drink. There exist but two rules within the Ouroboros, 'no human shall ever enter' and 'no blood will be shed within it'. Even Chronos dare not intercede with these laws for it is known that it is one of the twelve who own this premise.



And just like that, Ante-Mortem's appreciation of art came to a halt as a finely dressed and relatively tall man appeared to barge inside the bar while yelling at the man wearing the flamboyant crimson vest.

"I bet you think you are real clever coming here, don't you." The tall, black suited and red tied man roared, his finger trembling in rage while pointed at the culprit. "Do you have any idea what you two did, do you two have any idea the kind of pressure that is on my ass right now!" He continued almost hyperventilating while pacing about.

"Calm yourself Morty, we completed the mission and everything is dandy. Why don't you loosen your tie and come have a drink with us, they have lovely strawberry shakes." Angel crowed, his tone almost provokingly casual as if deliberately trying to ruffle up this traumatized man, even more.

"I don't want a stupid shake damn it! I need you to come with me, there is an official order for the Ante Mortem to be debriefed on a matter most imperative. It probably has to do with you mission and WHAT YOU DID!" The man couldn't help but slam the bartender's table before pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Before the three had even realized, the bar had suddenly been vacated, hordes of alchemists had already escaped via the back entrance from merely hearing the name "Ante Mortem". Despite neutral ground, the terror was enough to quake their very souls.

"You know what, I think I am going to stay here a while. The drinks are great and this couch is oh so comfortable," Angel muttered in his usual uninterested and casual demeanor all the while stretching and yawning, as if preparing for a nap.

"I had a feeling you would say that, now it is true I am bound by the rules that no blood must be shed however there is no rule that states I can't whisk you to innocence." Morty replied sadistically, as if driving pleasure just from the thought of what is about to happen.



The Chrono couldn't help but giggle and sing a rhyme dedicated at the misfortune that was about to befall the mighty Silver Reaper and what heightened her amusement even more so was the fact that her brother had just realized it as well.

"W-wait Morty, we can talk this out like civilized people," Angel, who by now had suddenly sprung to his feet and scanning the surroundings for possible escape routes. "Damn it, I can't teleport. This means he has those wretched 'Porters' surrounding the building, Morty you slimy bastard. He cursed under his breathe while masking it with a smile and hand gestures signaling Morty to calm down and take a seat.

"It’s too late Angel, the porting sequence has already begun," clearly undeterred from his goal to bring the culprits to justice, Angel's attempts at diffusing the situation had failed.



While Angel's repetitive attempts at teleportation continued to fail his partner fiendishly began to commentate on the transpiring events, her mischief successfully stimulating her partner's rage.

"You stop this right now Morty!" From Angel's dark tone of voice, it was clear the Lost Number had taken a far more sinister persona and the rules of Oroboros were not enough to keep the Reaper at bay. As his gaze slowly narrowed down onto the target in front of him, flames appeared to erupt from the palm of his hands, manifesting itself in the shape of a smoldering blade.

"That was your last chance," any restraint died after those words and without hesitation the Lost Number lunged forward seeking to pierce the man with a blade of flames.

"I will flay you alive!" Angel's battle cry echoed throughout, the echo itself leading the Silver spectacles Asylum to suddenly freeze. Rooted and almost stoic in all motion, he slowly looked about his surroundings and a feeling of sickness suddenly overcoming him when his eyes finally managed to stare beneath him. One would think it would be the visage of an impaled Asylum, luckily however the flames dissipated before reaching Morty, leading the man to merely faint in relief. The source of Angel's discomfort lay in the fact that he was roughly 70,000 feet high while inside the monstrosity that was A.M.R.O gargantuan flying battleship, the Innocence. The fact that the floor was transparent, may also have played a role in the Lost Number's agitation.

“Come on big brother, we should explore!” Rena chirped in delight, in striking contrast to Angel who appeared to hate the very thought of being in Innocence, the Chrono looked ecstatic. “You never let me come here and now we are going on an adventure!” She exclaimed in delight while dragging her partner, who had yet to recover from shock, with her off into lands unknown.

“ANTE MORTEM, YOU CAN’T GET AWAY WITH DESTROYING THE FUCKING PYRAMID OF GIZA!” Morty suddenly woke up, screaming. “What…where did they go…..what the fuck….three hours have passed?” He grunted as his bloodshot eyes stared at his watch, slowly getting to his feet and brushing off the dust before loosening his tie and throwing it onto the floor along with an insignia that distinguished him as a specialized agent tasked with observing and monitoring problematic individuals within A.M.R.O, specifically Chronos and Lost Numbers.

“I fucking quit, the debrief is bound to begin soon and those two demons can find their own way along with the rest of the weird misfits that are being assembled. There is no way I am taking responsibility for what a collection of haphazard, dysfunctional group of alchemists might do with the Members of The Crests. A war is brewing that might shake this very organization to its core and the higher ups picked that strange bunch to be grouped, I should have retired last year.”

Location: Capsule lodgings→ Medical Facilities (Innocence Airship)
Time: Day Time (About 2-3 hours or less before the meeting)

---

Samad drifted in and out of thought, his mind finally lost in the tingling sensation of REM sleep pulling him down into the dreaming abyss.

Things had never been simple since he first became an Asylum, a drafted alchemist born and trained to be a soldier of AMRO. When most people heard of it, they thought global security. In reality the organization’s primary motivated was to control alchemists and prevent chaos and insanity from burning the world into ashes, a noble intention through it sometimes took away the most basic of human rights for any Asylum. Soldiers they might’ve been, but when a soldier took too much freedom then they became nothing more than property to retrieve or destroy. Like putting down a soon to be rabid dog.

Other than execution for going rogue, an Asylum’s life was that of privilege at AMRO’s expense. No luxury, within human reason, was out of their reach and often paid for by the organization in exchange for complete loyalty. This loyalty often included taking on deadly missions in from the United States to remote places like Tristan Da Chuha near South Africa or Chang Tang, Tibet.

The Experimental Team had arrived over a week early and all because a mission in Asbest, Russia had went south quickly.

It resulted in Cade being on death’s door as Zak, their overseer, hauled the shredded asylum and his mentally teetering partner to the nearest Teleporter station. It was difficult,bloody and several times Samad could faintly feel the weaker Asylum begin to slip away from him. If it wasn’t for the fact Cade’s Death would’ve driven him insane and killed him too, Samad would’ve let the humanitarian die. In the end, self preservation ended up saving the younger Asylum's life as well as Zak.

Several days later, Samad and other Asylums-soldiers of AMRO- received an order to come to Innocence for a special mission. This got him curious enough to do some digging. In the few days leading up to today, he had collected some interesting information over the possible reason they were called in. Going around the rumor mill was a story about one of the Bloodlines, a family of Alchemist royalty that took in rogues and allied themselves with AMRO, had been completely wiped out. He didn’t identify the name of the actual family, save that it wasn’t the Kian because Omar or other disowned members of his family would’ve likely informed him about such a thing. Part of him hoped it wasn’t true and merely a rumor.

Samad didn’t look forward to taking on something or one powerful enough to wipe out the main branch of a whole Bloodline. It was little wonder that AMRO was left in a dangerous predicament because if the families were exterminated, their ability to retain control over growing rogues and gain new soldiers would’ve been heavily affected. Even worse, he doubted there would’ve been much information over it or AMRO would’ve dispatched it already with a fitting team. The fact they requested him and Cade to be present made him nervous made him nervous over what was to come.

For hours, his eyes shifted under the lids. His mind darted between their recent arrival on Innocence to the earlier mission, barely sleeping fully while he waited for news about Cade.

His semi naked figure laid across the narrow bed surrounded by reflective walls, a capsule of sorts for temporary guests. The sheets skimmed about his figure's surface and heavily focused on entangling his legs as he shifted about in a restless fashion. His weapons were stored in the compartment on the opposite wall, but he kept his Katar on him at all times. It was attached to his wrist and arm slide under his pillow, hidden from sight. Traditionally paranoia ran thick in his family from a young age and so old habits died hard. Even in a airship known to be the safest place on Earth for an Asylum.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered open when a feminine and emotionless voice spoke into his head.

"Asylum Amir of the Experimental Team. As requested, further information over the condition of your partner, Cade Markell, has been released. His condition is fully recovered and his medical release is due within the hour. Side effects are as followed: slower reflexes, hand to eye coordination, and movement capabilities. Therapy will be required but currently delayed in hind sight of the upcoming mission and will be designated to be the responsibility of the patient and his partner. Have a nice day, Asylum Amir.”

“Perfect,” Samad groaned under his breath while he reached for the handles and lifted upright, his legs folded into indian style on the bed. His fingers rubbed his eyes as he started to slide himself out of the capsule. Already the machine came buzzing to life, the mattress flipped down through closed end and replaced by a fresh one covered in plastic for the next Asylum’s stay. Cautiously, Samad worked himself along the ladder to the main floor. Other Asylums were already moving about to retrieve their things for their next mission as the Iranian realized that Zak might’ve not been informed about Cade’s condition causing him to attempt to contact the Overseer’s mind through telepathy.

“Hey, Zak. Can you hear me? Cade just been given a clean bill of health but seems he’ll be more useless than before. Want to help me see if we can speed up the recovery with a little of training before the meeting? If so, meet me in at training room A-12, which I believe is vacant. If not, I’ll make sure of it shortly when I get there,” Samad trailed off before he finally reached the storage lockers, his number 53. He limped over and held his hand over the lock. It beeped to confirm his identity as he pulled the door open, tugging his clothes from within to change into. Stripping down to the nude, he discarded modesty after he became an Asylum long ago and began to jerk on his boxers, jeans, long sleeved shirt and a belt.

He topped the causal appearance off by gripping his desert fang prototype which resembled a stout cane to assist his walking for long distances. Adjusting his collar in front of the mirror, Samad paused and looked himself over once more. “You know you look handsome in any fashion, luv.” Elise’s voice broke out from his memories causing the Iranian to freeze in place and turn his head enough to scan the locker room with his peripheral vision… nothing. He was alone within, his heart left thumping, before he shrugged it off then began to make his way to the medical facilities at a leisure pace.

---

🇹🇮🇲🇪: A few hours ago prior to present time.
🇱🇴🇨🇦🇹🇮🇴🇳: Somewhere in the eastern region of Canada’s wilderness.

---

How far up ahead?

No more than fifty meters at 2 o’ clock

Nodding to his younger brother, the Snake got up from his knees and started walking westward; at the opposite way the target was located.

You know what to do. Lure it over my direction. I will be waiting.

Giving his brother a slow understanding nod, the tall bronze-skinned man began drawing a symbol on his biceps as he recited in some foreign language. Meanwhile, Maximillian headed a few meters away from Jonathan’s location before chanting in the same foreign language his brother had been, his hands circling over a specific area in front of him. In a moment, a greenish circle seemingly made of rune words and lines appeared to encircle a vast clearing.

Just as Maximillian’s preparations were completed, Jonathan had finished chanting his own casting. Slowly, the muscles throughout his body seemed to bulge, or at least become more imposing than the already existing significant muscle mass the tattooed member The Predators possessed. Raising a proud and cocky fist in the air to his on looking brother, Jonathan took off running in the forest with speed far greater than the best running athlete, at least in normal humans’ terms.

It didn’t take much time for the shaved-headed man to reach where the target was. Already, it had heard him coming and scented his smell from ways away. But the member of the hunting team knew that much and had already doubled the animal, forcing it to run the other way instead. Just as intended, the target was making a run for it towards Maximillian’s position.

Hiding in a bush, the only faint hint of the Snake’s presence in the vicinity was the barrel of his rifle poking out from the greenery. Like his representing creature, he lied in wait for the moment he would strike, swiftly and deadly. Just as the animal entered the clearing, the area began glowing with a sickening green aura; a circle of runes manifested itself to trap the alchemically-trapped beat.

With the pull of a trigger, something emerged from the bush to hit the deer square in the neck. At first, the horned beast furiously thrashed around until it finally slowed down after half a minute and fell to the leafy soil.

“I suppose it’s another alternative for hunting, wouldn’t you say?”

Maximillian emerged from his hiding place just as his enhanced brother Jonathan arrived running to check up on the felled animal.

“Yeah, like luring an animal to a trap. I suppose that “Imprisoning” Alchemy you picked up could come in handy to capture future targets alive, huh?”

“Indeed.”

Just as Jonathan was about to add something about making a good feast out of the animal, Maximillian held up his index as a waiting sign at the same time his phone was buzzing in the pocket of his pants. Shrugging, the younger brother took out a hunting knife and plunged it deep in the deer’s neck while the elder brother took out his phone.

“I'm listening.?”

"…"

“Understood, we’ll be on our way.”

Mentally reading his brother’s mind over the telepathic bond they shared, Jonathan sighed in annoyance as he learned the bad news. He got up from his knees just before wiping the blood off his knife and sheathed it away.

“Sorry brother, it will be for another time. Let the wilderness enjoy it in our stead.”

---

🇹🇮🇲🇪: A hour before the meeting
🇱🇴🇨🇦🇹🇮🇴🇳: Aboard training grounds Innocence airship

---

The trip back to Innocence was quick and rushed. First, the Predators had to call one of A.M.R.O.’s Canadian headquarters to book up a flight to Italy in order to reach Innocence as soon as possible. When it had been done, the two brothers then were cleared by Italy’s HQ for a porting into the flying training grounds ship.

All this running around to get to the appointed time for an apparent meeting left the Wylde brothers breathless, more quite mentally than physically. They were trained and adapted for heavy physical labors, but they themselves didn’t quite like the idea of being rushed. Maximillian was more disciplined as to comply with such stress, but the carefree Jonathan hated it vehemently. He’d rather take his time to visit nearby areas, see the sceneries other countries had to offer, what the food and drinks tasted like, how fine the women of this country were.

“Guess we’re back here after all…”

“Don’t make such a long face, John. It has been a while since the last time we visited this place. You should take this opportunity to meet new faces, or pay a visit to old friends.”

“Right… Guess I’ll head over to the Foundry. Get my gear back in shape. I’ll see you at the meeting.”

Maximillian nodded to his brother affirmatively. To no surprise, he knew his brother would go to where there would be weapons. If memory served him right, there were a few of his friends working down at crafting weapons too. It might do him some good to get that head of his out from the woods and see people other than him.

As for himself, the Snake pondered over the possibility of new additions to the Laboratory, or even new research materials in the Library. Juggling between the two areas in his mind, his feet led him towards the laboratory instead. Maybe meet some new faces as well and introduce himself to them? Perhaps some old familiar folks would still be working there too.

Collab between @Fox of Spades and @Ryver et Rhine



An insistent beeping sound pulled Kayla back from the edges of dreamland. Her black eyes popped open and subconsciously she began assessing every minute detail about her surroundings. She heard soft ambient music behind the grating alarm. The light was dim but it was bright enough for her to make out the dents and scratches lining the metal walls. Her fingers felt rough, stiff linen beneath her. The texture was similar to what she expected from the bedsheets provided in the AMRO bunkers. Curiously, she allowed her hands to fan outwards. It didn't take her very long to find the edges of the bed. There was about an inch and a half of cool metal separating the wall from the mattress. Sunken mattress, metal frame, metal walls - a sleep pod? Her hazy memories from the night before confirmed her conclusion and Kayla sighed with relief. Moments earlier, she thought she had been buried alive but she was glad she was wrong! She had no intention of dying so soon.

She tried going back to sleep when she caught a glimpse of the current time. The Unlinked sat up abruptly forgetting how low the ceiling was. Her head collided with metal and stars danced in her eyes. "Ow," she gasped, rubbing her head gingerly as she began tearing. Slowly, she exhaled. Inhaled and exhaled again. On the last exhale, she opened her eyes fully half expecting to see white mist coming out of her mouth but her breath remained invisble to the naked eye.

She couldn't help smiling, as she relished the fact she was far away from Hyder. That town along the Alaskan-Candian border was nothing short of a frozen hell! She alternated between cold and hunger in equal measures. No matter how much she ate, every ounce of it seemed to channelled towards keeping her body from turning into an ice cube.

Then again, if she were to be completely honest, that was nothing compared to the stress she and Audrey endured while trying to infiltrate the illegal fight club in Hyder. She allowed her mind to dwell a little longer on several hazy recollections about the mission before rolling onto her belly. Fisting her gloved hand, she knocked gently on the left wall. "Pssst, Aud. Aud! You awake?"

The sound of Kayla’s rapping and muffled voice was more than enough to wake her, and for a few confusing seconds, Audrey wondered what the hell she was doing in some cramped metallic cylinder. It took a few moments for her sleep-addled mind to put the pieces together, but when she finally realized they hadn’t been captured by rogues or stuffed into a coffin, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

The past three weeks had been stressful, but they were back at Innocence, safe, alive, and still kicking ass and taking names. She and Kayla had arrived last night and had practically passed out in their pods the moment they’d returned from their mission. It was the best sleep she’d had in a while, but the morning brought about mixed feelings.

She’d just returned, and already, she had another frigging mission already waiting for her.
Audrey pulled her pillow over her head and closed her eyes, contemplating on whether or not to ignore her friend and just go back to sleep.

The knocking continued and each new thump made her squeeze her eyes shut in annoyance.

Audrey rolled to her side and reached for the number pad on the left wall. She dialed in Kayla's pod number and waited for a holographic screen to appear on the wall. "I'm awake now," Audrey replied. "What?"

"I ..." Kayla began. She blinked slowly, realising what she almost blurted out. Saying "I'm glad you are alive" felt like she might be jinxing things. They were Asylums, AMRO's soldiers who risked their lives to keep the world safe from dangerous rogues, so expecting friends to die shouldn't be this upsetting. Shouldn't it? Friends, classmates and teachers - all of them were living on borrowed time. She nibbled her lip. "Second mission and we're still kicking, eh?" she spoke with a false cheer. "I'm glad we got out in one piece. Didn't even need to pop into the fish tank."

It was an accomplishment for two newbies out on the field. A very minor one, but she wasn't complaining. Kayla got up and sat crossed legged, as she continued facing the monitor while waiting for Audrey's response. The way she played with strands of wavy, black hair escaping her braid was proof she was still on edge even ten hours after the mission.

"I wonder if Isaac's as lucky. Haven't heard anything since we got back and he and Jesse were due back three days ago." Her black eyes pulled away from Audrey's intense gaze as if she were embarrassed for worrying about their former batch mates so much. "I dunno... what do you think?"

Audrey blinked dumbly as Kayla began rambling on about their mission and their supposedly missing friends. She wasn't the most intuitive individual out there, but Kayla had been her roommate back when they were struggling through training, and something about the cheer she was trying to project felt... forced.

The irritation from being woken up early left, and Audrey sat up and narrowed her eyes at the screen. The fact that Kayla was playing with her hair only hinted at how worried she really was. Audrey understood how Kayla felt. Despite trying to play everything cool, the mission had been stressful as heck. It was why she'd been on a perpetual sugar high during their time near the border. It had been both exciting and horrifying.

"You're worried," she accused. "Isaac and Jesse can handle themselves. They'll be back. Like you said, we're alive, aren't we?" She mustered up a grin for her friend's sake. "We kicked ass, Kayla. Those suckers never saw it coming. But yeah, don't worry 'bout them."

"Says you," Kayla shot back. "You're the one who kept saying that Jess owes you and if he died you're going to hell and punching him back to earth." Seeing Audrey raise her eyebrow increduously made the Hybrid burst out laughing. Kayla laughed so much that she practically doubled over and fell back onto the bed. "Aud, I'd love to see you try punching anyone back to life. I bet if ol' Lucifer would get a black eye stopping you."

"I never said that," Audrey snapped. However, the silence that followed made the hazy memory grow increasingly clear. It was their second week on the job. They were freezing and her supply had consisted of only a few more candy bars and three packets of gum. Actually, she might have blurted out some of those things in desperation. The candy withdrawal she'd been going through made it hard to remember. That and the sleepless nights. "Okay, I guess Jesse does owe me some jawbreakers and soda. Still, you were the one getting all philosophical and mushy." She tried to mimic her friend's voice before giving Kayla a smug smile. Speaking of missions, she had to leave for one soon and didn't want to think about it just yet. "We should go get breakfast," Audrey suggested in an attempt to change the topic.

"We haven't finish the report yet ..." Kayla reminded her friend. "First draft's due in two hours and the final draft tomorrow morning." She crossed her arms. "Can't breakfast wait? I don't wanna have any penalties."

"But Kayla," Audrey whined. "Breakfastttt, we didn't eat anything when we got back yesterday." Reports were the worst. They'd already gotten the job done. Audrey leaned forward to pout at the screen. "Can we at least write the report in the cafeteria?"

Kayla opened her mouth to protest but she never got a chance to say anything. Her stomach growled loudly, making Audrey smirk. Kayla responded by huffing just as loudly before crossing her arms over her chest. "Fine," she grumbled. "Just keep away from cereal and pancakes! I hate my keyboard getting all sticky."

"Promise," Audrey replied swiftly. She drew back the curtains and made her way out of the sleep capsule. "Let's go get food!"

Collab Between @Fallenreaper and @Ryver et Rhine

Location: Overseers’ Lounge (Dining Hall)
Time: Day Time (Approx. 2 Hours Before the Meeting)



Samad’s incoming message provided Zak an opportunity to distance himself from the tensed atmosphere at the breakfast table in the Overseers’ Lounge. Sitting between two irate gentlemen who were engaged in their version of the cold war was the least ideal way to spend a lovely morning. If it weren’t considered rude to up and leave, he’d have left the table the moment the Iranian Asylum contacted him. Surmising that a truce won’t be reached in the next ten minutes, Zak felt it was safe to respond to Samad’s message via their telepathic link.

“What happened to being nice to Cade?” Zak teased. “It’s not even lunch yet. So yup, way too early to be bickering. Why don’t you grab a bite with Cade first? I’ll join you once I’m done.” He left the last bit vague, trusting that Samad would understand his wish for some privacy.

‘If I wasn’t, I would’ve broken his legs then tossed him back into the fish tank for another week while I did a mission. He nearly got us both killed. The sooner he’s up and running, the better. However, I will get him something to eat,’ The Iranian grumbled back.

Zak closed their communication link after that, deciding he needed to focus on the situation at hand. He was supposed to be trying to persuade Morty to find someone else to be Ante Mortem’s Overseer. Needless to say, Zak knew the discussion was over before it even began. The ex-Overseer outranked him and by default someone more junior would have to accept whatever mission their superior assigned them. He was lucky to have his mentor step in before Morty forced him to accept the mission.

Speaking of Morty, Zak turned to look at the man again. The ex-Overseer was busy spearing one of the glistening yolk on his the plate. A stream of yellow burst from the incision and splattered the sausages nearby. Zak stopped himself from wrinkling his nose, as he continued watching Morty attacking the rest of the food barbarically. Losing his appetite, Zak pushed the sausage he was cutting away, wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed his fork and knife onto the plate. A waiter waiting nearby cleared it immediately.

Two cups of coffee, Zak noted. Three glasses of whiskey before that and now a third cup of coffee. Make that a third cup of coffee and a cup of hot chocolate. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip. No wonder Asylum Deacon wants to foist them on me, he concluded. The stress must be immense considering that his scalp is visible after sticking with Ante Mortem for six months.

“Aren’t you eating, my boy?” Morty urged. “Your meeting is in two hours and I say you should eat when you can.”

So I don’t end up embarrassing myself at the table? Zak questioned quietly, cringing at the thought of himself ending up like this disgusting pig. He withheld his sneer as best as he could and forced himself to smile politely. The last thing he needed was to antagonize the slob in front of him when he was already on the losing end of this bargain. “I’d choose sleep over food right now,” he spoke calmly. “An alert mind is better than a full belly.”

The unwanted guest dropped his fork and burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that he practically doubled over, clutching his sides. Tears streamed from his eyes, as he banged the table top with his fists repeatedly. Another sign that Morty was on his way to becoming a hatter. Zak’s smile climbed an eighth of an inch up the sides of his face. Looks like the infamous Ante Mortem drives another Overseer insane. They sure go through them faster than the other Chrono teams.

Alistair briefly chuckled at his past student’s preference, his expression flashed a hint of pride and acceptance in Zak’s direction. The older Overseer tightened his hand about his mug as he felt the liquid chill causing him to look down and frown. Arguing with Morty over Zak’s future had made it that way as his alchemy began to vibrate and heat the surface he touched. He shot a glare at Morty when the man spoke.

“F-fully belly?” Morty sputtered after gasping for air. “You have no idea. No idea at all! I’ve been stuck with them for a year! A YEAR! Sleep and food are luxuries I don’t have time for. Do you even know ANYTHING about Ante Mortem?” his voice was already rising hysterically.

“You aren’t obligated to stay with them,” Zak reminded the man. “Overseers have every right to request for a transfer if they need one.”

A dark look crossed Morty’s face when Zak mentioned transferring. The haggard man sat up straighter, as the air around him hung heavily over his side of the table. “No one in their right mind accepts a mission with a troublesome pair like those two. No one! I was assigned to them and …”

“And now you are assigning them to me,” Zak completed. A slight twinge of annoyance stirred inside but it didn’t show on his smiling face. “It is a big favour you are asking of me,” the youngest Overseer stated. “One Alistair can reject on my behalf.”

“I’ve already made it clear I object on every level,” Alistair commented when Zak mentioned his name, “You aren’t fully ready for them and you already have two you’re responsible for. They aren’t fully cooperating, are they yet?”

Zak grinned. “Quite so. Sorry mate, I think we are done. No point wasting your time and mine since you are busy enough with the latest brouhaha over the Pyramid of Giza.”

“I-is that a NO?” Morty’s eyes began bulging worriedly, as he saw Zak and Alistair getting ready to leave. He was practically wheezing at the thought that he might remained saddled with the most notorious Chrono team on AMRO’s roster. The very idea was enough for him to contemplate suicide if this negotiation failed. “Why don’t you have a look at the roster first?” he pleaded. “I’m sure you won’t say no.”

Morty’s panic was more evident than ever, as a brown paper folder slid towards MMXVII. Zak raised an eyebrow and sat down again. He was surprised that anyone would want to print anything these days. Asylums have been blessed with a variety of smart gadgets - watches, phones or even palm sized computers - that made file sharing easier. A refusal to do so made Morty seem like even more of an anachronism than ever. A man who should have retired when he had the chance.

“Fine,” Zak agreed after exchanging a glance with his mentor. “I wonder what made you think I’d find this assignment bene. Have you seen the file, Alistair?” he asked the red haired Overseer seeing across him as he began scanning the names of the Asylums assigned to the mission. “Your frown has become more pronounced, so something must be bothering you.”

“I’m more worried about your diplomatic nature at this moment. I know how you are and I don’t like the fact you will wear yourself thin trying to find a solution for peace,” Alistair stated then answered the question, “And no, I’ve not. Personally, that worries me greatly.”

“You speak as if I have a choice in the matter,” the mentee noted. “I sometimes wonder if we are even speaking of the same AMRO. My only chance of getting a fair consideration would be asking you to plead my case or finding someone else to accept the mission on my behalf.” Zak’s lips curled slightly. “And we both know what the others feel about Ante Mortem. They are too much of a liability.” He added air quotes as he spoke the last bit.

“I’ve never discourage you to follow through on your own choices, but I do request you side on caution when I ask you to. The Experimental Team is a handful as it is and adding on more will likely wear you thin,” Alistair commented then continued, “Personally, if that file says what I fear it might…. My plea will take time or become fully denied.”

Brown eyes flicked from the paper to Alistair’s face and back. A gloved finger hovered above the two names they suspected might be mentioned in the upcoming mission. A not so cunning trap, as expected from someone so far gone. Zak thought, tapping the edge of the paper with the same finger. He noticed Morty gloating slightly. An air of renewed confidence shimmered round the worn out Overseer like a eye-watering halo. The sight annoyed Zak even more.

He could walk away now as Alistair suggested. Wash his hands off this assignment and get a small slap on the wrist for refusing thanks to his position as a mentee. On the other hand, the repercussions are bound to include him being reassigned from the Experimental Team. The higher ups as he liked to call them would fear him getting too attached, which was a big no-no to them. Something they’d try their best to nip in the bud so to speak.

“I hate to admit it, but he knows how to pick his aces.” Zak shrugged nonchalantly to hide the worry he was feeling at the moment. He lapsed into silence after that as he reflected on the contents of the file. Based on the brief, he could already anticipate how messy things were going to be. A tensed political situation was the last thing Samad and Cade needed to test their imploding teamwork.

“Oh? I wondered why he was so smug during the conversation,” Alistair’s displeasure showed through his tone of voice. He paused to sip the tea and let it’s heat calm his nerves, before he continued, “So, do you still want me to attempt to get this reassignment jerked from your lap? Either way, it will take time and until then you have to play nice.”

I am in a bind. The higher ups feel that Samad or Cade needs to be on this mission. I am placing money on Samad but I can’t shake the feeling that the matter doesn’t concern the Kians, the Darwin confided telepathically. If anything happened to the family, one of the exiled Kians would have contacted Samad.

Zak laced his gloved fingers together and leaned forward. To his credit, his solemn face managed to mask most of the frustration he was feeling right now. It was another useful trick passed down to him through Alistair and one he was exploiting to keep Morty squirming. I believe you are aware that Cade has connections to another family. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m liking this less and less.

’Yes, I’m aware. The Legendes. Cade’s family was indebted to them due to medical care relating to a rogue’s poison and permanently crippled the father, an agreement was reached they would work it off in the clinics within America. When Cade was in his late teens, he demonstrated Alchemy specializing in electricity. The Legendes then contacted AMRO who later came to retrieve him. He seemed rather attached to the Bloodline from the reports.’

The young man considered his mentor’s words. He knew he was waddling through dangerous waters with each additional second spent deliberating. Of course, he could cut ties with the Experimental Team if he chose to, but something else was nagging him. An indignant feeling born from the fact that he sensed that someone was cruel enough to consider using Cade as a pawn. The poor guy was a nervous wreck and Zak doubted he’d be able to live with himself if he allowed those two to head into the mission unsupervised in their current state. It was a liability that AMRO shouldn’t be taking considering the current climate of trust.

Could you buy me some time? The novice asked. I think I shall accept the mission for now, but it isn’t because of them. I want to investigate the person assigning them their missions lately. I believe there has been a breach of conduct. Even without Alistair replying, he could already sense the worry radiating from his mentor. He didn’t like it one bit. All that concern was making him doubt his own judgement; something he could ill-afford at a time like this.

‘I can, if this is really what you want, but I seriously advise against it. Trying to watch both the Ante Mortem and the Experimental Team at once is harsh even for a mentor. AMRO might worry you’re judgement is becoming… weakened.’ Alistair looked at Zak and took a sip, his expression blank through every trick he knew during his time as an Overseer and made it impossible to read.

Jerking his head up, he looked the man in the eye. I’m not getting soft, he insisted. I’m doing what’s best best for AMRO. Killing two birds - maybe three - with one stone. Meanwhile, I’d like you to help me find a replacement. It’s too late to find someone now and Morty isn’t fit to be going on this mission. He needs psychiatric assistance, which I hope you wouldn’t arranging for him too. I’d offered to arrange that but two hours isn’t a lot of time.

‘Personally, I would rather toss him into the nearest padded room for R&R and normalcy. It would do him much more good than a shrink and being left to his own devices. However, I’ll see what I can do. As for your ‘mission’, a tip on making things easier for you: Try to nudge the others to help you with Cade and Samad. Having more than yourself on their case might help get through Samad’s thick skull that’s it’s not Cade’s fault that he replaced Elise. It might also give Cade a reason to grow a pair in order to stand up against Samad’s attitude and even kill off some of that humanity he holds onto so strongly,’ Alistair finished up his cup after his last sentence, his figure had finally rose up to his feet and glared at Morty. Though Zak had come to the conclusion of wanting to be replaced and requested his help, the mentee’s actions would determine the damage from here on out. There was no going back to the way things were now.

“I’ve got a few things to do because my next assignment as it seems my mentee has made up his mind,” Alistair, while not outright saying the decision, hinted to Zak to tell Morty about his decision over the matter, “Contact me if you have issues and I will be checking in time to time. I wish you good luck, Zak.”

“Looks like you’ve accepted?” Morty’s sounded incredulous.

Zak contemplated if he should be kinder to the long suffering man, but Morty wasn’t exactly the most enduring person out there. His manners and his character were found to be wanting in many areas. For instance, Morty being completely unaware that he was dabbing his sweating face with a ketchup stained napkin. The unbecoming behaviour made even the waiters stare at him with a mix of pity and disgust. Indifferent as he tries to be, the annoyance made it that much easier for him to be ruthless when dealing with this man.

“No,” Zak corrected, relishing how big Morty’s eyes were growing. “Consider this as a favour owed. Alistair made it clear that he planned to reject the mission if I hadn’t convinced him otherwise.” A smirk played lightly on the Darwin’s lips as he lay the file on the table. Now it’s time for him to try his luck with this man. There was a small chance that Morty would spot the bluff, but all evidence indicated otherwise. The man’s mind lacked the sharp edge one expected of a Sniffer. He was, if truth be told, no more alert than a druggie in withdrawal.

“Favour? I thought it was …”

Zak held up a hand to cut the man off. “No. I’m Alistair’s responsibility until he chooses to release me.” He allowed his words to trail off as he remained as calm and compose as he had been throughout the latter part of their meeting. “Don’t worry, it’s a simple request.”

“Fine,” Morty blasted, throwing his soiled napkin on the table. “Just accept already and I’ll do what you want. I’m tired of you stupid games. Yours and Alistair’s!”

Even more dinners turned to stare at them, which made things twice as awkward. Zak simply waved his hand in silent apology and waited till they looked away before he resumed the conversation. “Good,” he stated simply, deciding that he’d save himself the bother of chastising a man twenty years his senior. He saw the maître d' hovering close by out of the corner of his eye, so it was reasonable to conclude that one more uproar and they’d be asked to leave. “I’ll be in touch with you soon. Right now, I have an appointment to keep.”

With that, he stood up and gathered his cane and the file. “Have a good day!”

"I hate this ship." Maeve complained as she walked with her partner. "Whenever we're on here they always send us on some shit mission of doom and despair." Kiara raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "I thought you liked those types of missions? Called them 'Exciting and thrilling' if I remember correctly." Maeve shook her head, waving a dismissive hand. "That was before we started getting handed shitty mission after shitty mission. Like that one in the Pacific Islands. With the cult and the cannibals? Started here. The one in Beijing where we had to go through a small army of rogues to get out? Started here too. I could go on, but missions always suck whenever they start here."

Kiara smiled wider. "Oh you mean like that mission in Bangkok? Where you got really drunk and-" "Shut up, we're never talking about it again." Her partner chuckled quietly, her black cloak swirling about her as she walked. "We'll go get you some food and alcohol and you'll feel better. We're supposed to get some help this time, so you'll be able to drool over some female Asylums." They were making there way to the ship's cafeteria. It was the best place to meet up with their potential partners and figure out any hint about their mission.

They had been called onto the Innocence airship yesterday. The reasons for their summons was cryptic and vague, but they could assume it was bad. Bad enough that they were called immediately after finishing another mission, given no time to breathe or recuperate. It had fortunately been another easy seek and destroy mission. They had found the target and eliminated her in under a week. Three hours later they had been hustled into a ship and flown to the Innocence. Their questions were met with only the barest facts. Bloodline members dying. Tensions growing. War on the horizon.

Maeve was excited at least.

"The way things go on this ship our partners are all probably men. Or the Ante Mortem. They probably don't even sell alcohol on this stupid ship anymore." Maeve grumbled as they entered the cafeteria, rolling her shoulders. Her eyes scanned the cafeteria, looking for a potential fight or someone to flirt with. She idly rubbed the emerald gem around her throat, looking for something of interest. Her shoulders suddenly slumped and she groaned in despair. "I had to open my mouth. Didn't I."

Kiara smiled grimly as she looked at the two Ante Mortem in the cafeteria. "Yes. You did."

As soon as the Ante Mortem left the company of Morty, who had passed out from shock, the two began to tour the air-craft. Rena frolicked about, her blond pigtails flailing while her partner lankly walked behind her, not a shred of enthusiasm in his fiber as his feet dragged across the floor. His sour mood came as no surprise to the Chrono, with the years they spent together Reri was quite aware of Angel's discomfort with most means of transport.

"Look, look!" A.M.R.O's princess exclaimed as she pointed towards the direction of the training room. "Terra is also here!" She chirped before dashing towards the woman that appeared to be monitoring the progress of her sparring students.

"Oh joy," Angel muttered sarcastically, feigning a welcoming smile and slowly joining his partner in welcoming the beloved Chrono Asylum, Terra. The Chrono of VIII, Terra Denver is among the most well known of the lot. Not only is she the second oldest among all Chronos, at one point the woman held the title of A.M.R.O's greatest hunter and even now her tracking skills are considered to be among the very best. However the people's love for her is not attributed to her functional characteristics but her motherly and caring personality, something which Angel had always found suffocating.

"Oh you look as adorable as ever!" The tall, freckled red head spoke, her hands clasped together at the exuberance of meeting the little princess. "tú cailín milis," she whispered in an accent that revealed her Irish roots, kneeling and embracing Rena who couldn't help but enjoy being doted on.

"Still the over-loving grand mother, eh?" Angel crowed in the background, his hand waving at the woman who had yet to let go of his partner.

"I don't look that old now do I?" She whimpered back with a frown on her face.

"What is wrong with being old, a wine is only as fine as its age," the Lost Number replied in a tone of assurance, hoping to avoid Terra's terrible habit of weeping whenever her feelings get hurt.

"Oh hush now, you charming devil," Terra whispered, blushing at the compliment and leaving Angel to ponder how quickly her mood changed. The woman's gentle nature always appeared to confuse the Asylum in the crimson waistcoat.

"He is mocking you, can't you see m'lady," a rather petite man appeared to speak from a distance, his threatening tone a kin to a kitten hissing. "I cannot allow this affront to my ward, I challenge you sir for berating my partner's honor!"

"Ah, so we have another who has the flair for theatrics. And who might you be and why should I accept this challenge?" The Silver Reaper replied in a casual tone, his entire relaxed demeanor serving to infuriate the challenger.

"I am Randoul Aymeri and the appointed partner of Terra Denver. I am the first alchemist born to my family who have been Seekers for over four centuries, even before that the Aymeri's were knights who would rise up against any injustice and I int-" Before the Lost Number could finish his noble introduction, Angel who by now had lost all interest had decided to walk away.

"How boring, well by all means continue this chivalrous pretense but I am under no obligation to play along in your foolish delusions." The silver tongued Crow calmly walked passed the astounded knight, signalling Rena that it is time they take their leave. "It was a pleasure Terra," he bid the Chrono with all the courtesy he could muster and with that the Ante Mortem were off.

"Take care of yourselves and come back to visit, okay?" Terra waved back at the departing duo with tears trickling down her cheek. Her infuriated partner on the other hand simply continued to glare at the man with the coffin on his back.

"You have no honor, you have no respect!" He screamed, his scorn directed at a man who simply appeared to shrug it off and disappear into a crowd.

What do you call a child raised by a demon?

After a few minutes of silence, Rena finally decided to make conversation about something that appeared to be bothering her. "Hey big brother, why did you let that guy talk to you like that? He said you have no honor," she spoke in a tone that appeared to be a little agitated. Clearly the over-protective Chrono had taken those words to heart and as such felt saddened.

Angel couldn't help but smile at his partner's worries, a kind and reassuring smile. "Listen up little one," he replied in a gentle tone while placing his coffin on the ground so the two could sit. "There are no certainties in life, sooner or later a situation comes that challenges your views and offers an ultimatum, adapt of fall. They either live long enough to become hypocrites or die before they can become one, though I suppose I still envy them. It is a sweet sin, believing in ideals. You become ignorant of all the burdens that are crushing you." Despite the sadness of these words, Angel continued to smile as his hands playfully ruffled his partner's hair. "I don't need ideals to fulfill my life, I already have a mischievous little she-demon that occupies most of it, now let us go and get some ice-cream."

Rena appeared to be over-joyed, jumping to her feet and twirling around in excitement. The ice-cream was an added bonus on top of being relieved at the fact her cherished partner had not been saddened, for if he had 'Innocense' would have surely fallen, again.



"What is that infernal sound?" Angel grumbled while massaging his eyebrows, he couldn't help but think this was karma weaving her thread of misfortune. First his leisurly evening was ruined at Ourosboros, then he was whisked away onto a demonic sky machine, had to endure a most irritating individual and now this.

"Your waistcoat....pocket, the smartphone," Reri replied in a tone strikingly distinct from that of Rena. While Rena's tone always appeared to brimming with life and vigor, right now her tone appeared to lack any sense of emotion, a blunt monotone. Her expressions also ran parallel with her voice. Her face was a blank slate, cold and expressionless with eyes akin to that of a dolls', soulless. Anyone who has had any past experience with the Ante Mortem would know, this was not Rena.

"Ah yes, that wretched thing. Thank you Rin, I see you are finally awake," the Lost Number greeted the second half of his partner as his hands fumbled around in his pockets in order to find the mobile device until finally the contraption was opened and the message visible.

"Absolutely devine..."

"Troubling?" The Chrono replied in her usual cold tone while wearing her stoic expressions, even so she knew whenever her partner would say that exact phrase, it often meant bad news.

Angel couldn't help but chuckle; poking fun at his own bad luck, amused at the hand which fate had dealt him. "Starting effective immediately, the Overseer assigned to Ante Mortem has been suspended and replaced with Zak Halls," An irked Angel slowly read the message out loud along with the profile of the new nuisance.

"Conditioning Morty....was cumbersome....repeating the process will be....cumbersome." Rin appeared to share her brother's lack of excitement over this new development.

"I suppose we can greet our new 'headache' on our way to the Cafeteria. Let us introduce ourselves," Angel couldn't help but smirk while nodding along with his partner. "Agreed," both had brewed the very same plot.

The outsiders and the bystander

“Have a good day!”

Angel observed Zak say those words to an ecstatic Morty and walk out, however the young lad would only find the Ante Mortem standing outside the door, blocking his exit.

"And are you having a good day, boy?" Angel crowed as the towering man, often associated with death incarnate, stood in front with a fiendish smile. Right beside Angel stood A.M.R.O's very own princess, Rin. Her calculative and stoic gaze coldly observing the man in front of her, her mismatched eyes giving her an almost otherworldly allure.

"I have come to understand that you will be our new Overseer, and from your file you seem quite competent and quite bothersome," the silver spectacled reaper calmly scrutinized the child that stood in front of him.

"Maintain...limits, the threshold....is thin 'Twenty Seven'," Rin concluded, her words precise as if a cold blade pinned against one's neck.

"To elaborate on what my partner stated," Angel casually continued from where Rin concluded; the Chrono merely walking away, believing enough time had been wasted on a worm. "You see we enjoyed our privacy, that is before Tabion decided to interfere. Now I understand with your position comes a degree of diplomatic immunity, I can however dispute the validity of that claim. All Chrono have the right to 'Parlay', do you know what that is boy?" The Lost Number mused, his hand gently resting atop Zak's shoulder and silently gesturing the boy to walk with him.

"It is a form of a 'right' which allows Chronos to create specific zones which are deemed neutral. For example, you have Jacquelin's prison or the Oruosboros. Tabion, that crafty snake, he made the Overseers and through some loophole you are his Parlay." The Crimson Asylum could not help but smile in disgust, regardless of the validity of Tabion's parlay, the play was brilliant and Angel couldn't help but respect that.

"My point, boy, is that do not believe you are untouchable and know when to close your eyes. Neutrality only extends to those within A.M.R.O," with this point Angel had delivered his finale and all that remained was the curtain call. "Here is an interesting fact Zacharias, the Overseers have the highest probability of assassination from rogues as opposed to any other specialized Asylum field. Why is that?"

With that Angel knew the metaphorical spotlights had just been extinguished and so with a polite wave, the demon and the princess casually walked away into the Cafeteria but not before giving Zak a message, “Have a good day!”




"How is the Gelato?" Angel asked as he leaned back on his seat, his face staring at the ceiling while his finger tips tapped the frame of his glasses in a strange melody.

"Adequate, does the air-craft...still discomfort you?" The Chrono replied, even though her words appeared to show concern her tone remained as cold and deadpan as ever. Her hetrosemmetrical eyes instantly spotting a rather rowdy group of Asylums behind them. Rin was aware of her partner's habitat, the tapping of his spectacle frame almost always signaled the Lost Number contemplating something sinister. As Rin continued to monitor the group, she noticed a single individual who appeared to be the loudest of the lot and extremely obnoxious.

"Yea that's right, I totally destroyed that warehouse. All the rogues were fucking weakling, I was hoping at least one would give me a challenge, but nada." The obnoxious Asylum gloated while in front of a swarm of aspiring students, all hearing his tales with gleaming eyes. "They are insects compared to us, you get strong enough and killing a rogue is child's play, I mean I even offered to give them a handicap and close my eyes, but the idiots refused and well after that, I just tore them to pieces." He continued, taking small gaps to laugh and drink beer before continuing once more.

All the while the Asylum reveled in his deeds of valor, Angel maintained his posture the only difference being the pace of the tapping against his spectacle frames. "Give a worm a stinger and it will rise above it's kind, but it is still a worm.....how easy it is to forget your place." Angel mused, mumbling out loud while staring up.

"But my dudes, that wasn't even the best part. In the basement I found at least six children. Those rogue filth were hiding their spawns and actually thought we would miss them!" The Asylum laughter roared throughout the cafeteria as a wretched smile slowly spread across his face.

"Did you kill them?" One of the students asked while gulping in the anticipation of the answer.

"Did...I..kill them? Where is the fun in that!" He suddenly exclaimed, frightening the student who had asked the question. While the Asylum enjoyed the attention of a large crowd of students, Angel's once relaxed position had become slightly tensed. His back was now upright and his fists clenched while he wore an expression quite similar to Rin's, completely blank and emotionless.

"You want to know what I did? I gave those five itty bitty children.....a choice. I told them there was a way for them to live, that they didn't need to be skinned alive.....but there was a problem." As the Asylum spoke, his wretched smile only continued to grow and spread across his face, bearing his teeth. "The problem was that only one of them could survive or all would have to die.....and just like that those innocent children turned into a pack of ravenous wolves, tearing through each other. With their pathetic alchemic skills, they hacked and tore and scorched through each other until four of them lay there.....DEAD.....it was disgusting.....limbs....organs....damn it was messy." By the tone with which he told the story, the Asylum felt great pride in his work, it was apparent all over his face. Self gratification.

"What about the kid who survived?" Came another reply from one of the students, his face hidden among the peers.

"Oh I opened the door for him and let him go, the kid ran like a goat. A pity 'someone' had dug a stake pit, I am pretty sure that kid is still there in the ground with a pike up his ass!" As soon as vile Asylum finished his punch line, he couldn't help but laugh hysterically.

"Filth....filth.....filth...filth," Angel slowly muttered, his clenched fists drawing blood as his expression slowly warped into that of a face of a demon, a smile that would make the Asylums' seem innocent and an aura that exuded blood lust, which poisoned the air. For a split second, every person present in the cafeteria could feel it, like an ice cold blade, ever so slowly, slipping inside you.

"Angel...stop," Rin almost instantly snapped her partner out of his 'Crow' state. A concentrated blow of gravity hitting Angel, resulting in him being pinned to his exact location, subsiding his toxic aura before anyone could take notice. "They require a reason, they want you out...we both know that. Maintain composure or you jeopardize us both."

With those words, realizing he had to keep Rin safe, Angel regained his usual 'devil may care' attitude. "Fine, I still think that man should be a blood stain on the wall," the Lost Number scoffed while suppressing his wrath.

In that very instant, Angel and Rin's gaze appeared to meet with the Banshees who had just arrived in the Cafeteria. Even though their arrival missed the tale of the obnoxious Asylum, their arrival seemed to be a serendipitous encounter.

"The Celtic Queens," Angel crowed, giving the two ladies a little bow before gesturing them to take a seat on the VIP table.

"Fifty two and Twenty One, moderately efficient tools," Rin replied in her usual manner, not bothering to take the effort to look at the duo, believing her words to be more courtesy than they could achieve in a life time.

"I am assuming you ladies are slightly inconvenienced, it is understandable seeing as you have been on multiple mind numbing missions. This air-craft does't have much to offer in regards to youthful leisure now does it?" The Lost Number couldn't help but jest, hoping to break the ice. His entire demeanor a kin to a merchant preparing his client for a barter.

"I could offer you a future solution, for a little favor of course," slowly and tactfully the Reaper drew close to his end game, his silver spectacles shimmering eerily. "I believe Maeve, you would enjoy this quite a lot. Do you see that rather irksome individual behind us, the Asylum who can't stop laughing and bullying the students. Could you possibly go there and punch him, just hard enough so that he need to go into the fish-tank but make a relatively prompt recovery? I would do it, but politics and all that....where as if you do it, my partner can override any foreseeable consequences." As Angel spoke his hands slowly appeared to delve into the pockets of his waistcoat in order to present the two with their payment, two strange gold coins with numerous carvings and the insignia of the Ourosboros engraved in it, a viper eating it's own tail.

"I am sure you both know about the Ourosboros, I mean it is all over and the drinks there, well they are to die for. But that is just one level, there is so much more. The rumor goes the coin of Ourosboros is offered to those that pay in currency or in favor. You will find all the world's sins and debauchery, all at your footstep for one entire day. One coin....one day with endless possibilities." As Angel concluded his pitch, he calmly placed a finger each on top of the coins and slid them towards the Banshees.

---

🇹🇮🇲🇪: Present Time
🇱🇴🇨🇦🇹🇮🇴🇳: Onboard Innocence

---

After separating from his brother for each to head to their own preferred amusement area, Maximillian’s footsteps led him to Innocence’s laboratory. Making his way through the automated doors, the sight of the area brought some memories into the Snake’s mind. The place changed a bit, but the overall layout of the area not so much. He could still see his younger self enthusiastically working in this facility as a trainee, testing new toxins and potent substances to handle Rogues with surprising efficiency. At that age, this member of the Predators had already developed a keen mind onto the venomous aspect of his own hunting methods. This specialty brought some ease to his work as his fixation on creating poisons based on existing animal toxins made it relatively simple to synthetize.

That pale Asylum grinned widely, an eerie sight when looking at his bright yellowish-green eyes and one of his prominent canines peeking out from the corner of his mouth. Just like the old days, as a force of habit, Maximillian reached out for the hangers at the entrance of the lab, pulling out one of the white coats and donning it over his shirt. Oh, how that look was reminiscent of his past days as a trainee.

For a while, the Predator lurked around the lab, watching the present trainees work on synthetizing substances from the various test tubes, flasks and cylinder, while the more experimented ones were working with the more dangerous stuff behind a blast-shielded window with overburdening and yet very protective mitts on the other side of the wall. While what was being created in this laboratory was different from the old days, the methods remained pretty much the same, Maximillian figured.

Recalling himself being in a very similar position in his final days as a trainee before starting to get more involved with “on the field” tasks, the Snake took a keen interest in the work of a young man experimenting with the bio-hazard containment area. Watching the trainee working with such focus, Maximillian didn’t dare ruin his experiment by interrupting the boy in the middle of his precise work. When the most brutal part of the work was done, Maximillian cleared his throat as to announce his presence.

“Keen eye you have there. And deft hands too. It takes a lot of skill to operate the containment cell without making a single drop. What are you guys making in there?”

"Keep focused," a tanned man barked to the two trainees. "Remember what you are working with. A single drop of is lethal enough to down a full-grown male elephant." Chauhan watched his current apprentices straighten up immediately. White mist started fogging up their face shields, leaving visible droplets against the cooler surface. Their rapid breathing was bound to be accompanied by profuse sweating and many unpleasant physiological symptoms of acute stress. This much he deduced having worked with many other apprentices over his fifteen-year career. Many of whom left their internship in body bags.

"Yes, yes, steady now, Cory," he encouraged. "Make sure you don't prick yourself with the needle! I can't save you this time." The professor waited till the young man stuck the needle through the cap successfully before pulling his gaze away. His almond colored eyes soon found the source of the interruption earlier and his expression changed. The barely noticeable smile crept onto the man's thin lips, leaving him looking just as stern as ever. His hard gaze bore straight into Max's. "Ah, Maxmillian," he greeted in his haughty, clipped British accent. Each syllable pronounced so carefully that he sounded robotic. "We are testing the latest batch of your poison."

Chauhan didn't even bother elaborating, as he waved his brown hand towards the two trainees laboring away with the squirming mice. He had sent Max updates regularly through A-O, so he had every right to assume the Asylum knew the necessary information. Having to explain everything from the beginning would be too much of a bother. One, thankfully, that Max hadn't put him through before. "Modifying then amplifying the genes took awhile, but I'm confident that I can produce enough batches at your request. Procedure aside, the animal tests have produced the desired results, but I need human subjects." He crossed his arms. "I sent my request five times and they kept me waiting for five months! 5 months, Max! I don't believe this! Seems like the Asylums barely have the decency to bring back live rogues these days."

Maximillian smiled back, watching all the trainees working with such ardor reminded him of the old days here. Keeping contact with Chauhan had been most beneficial to him ever since he had left the apprentice seat to become a full-fledged Asylum with his brother. Whenever he had a new idea but couldn't afford to test it out because of his busy schedule, the Snake would send a request to Chauhan to organize a new research. So far, he was all but pleased by the results, even though at sometimes it took a lot of time for that request to finally see the light of day.

"Yes, it would appear we have our hands full with those Rogues situations, and most don't seem to want to burden themselves with captives because of that. Next time we go on mission, I'll remind my dear brother to not savagely rip one in pieces."

The Asylum's gaze wandered to the containment chamber, watching as one of the students was injecting a mouse with a blue-tinted liquid. The small animal seemed to fall into a coma just a few seconds after the injection, which yielded half of Maximillian's expected results. It was good to see it with his own eyes, instead of reading the reports. Apparently, the poison worked well on animals under the effects of Alchemy buffs, dispelling any lingering effects before falling unconscious.

"With this type of poison, it'll be far easier to bring them in alive, depending in whose hands it's used. Think you can ready a few vials for takeout? I'll do some field testing myself, if it is the human material you are lacking of."

That wouldn't be necessary, came the telepathetic reply. There is a reason I assign my most dispensable lackeys these mundane tasks. Chuahan leaned against the wall, looking absolutely bored. There are bound to be inquiries, of course. A mere formality but I guarantee you that AMRO won't miss these two. He pushed back the right sleeve of his lab coat and glanced at his gold-plated hublot wristwatch. They sure are taking their time, he added sarcastically. I thought with their track record one of them would have stuck himself by now.

Letting his arm fall to his side, the researcher said out loud, "Sorry, Max. I thought the tests would be faster than this." Without even turning his head, the man produced a capped needle filled with the same poison the students were testing and held it out to Max. "Maybe you'd like to have a closer look before you leave. I'm sure there are enough writhing bodies in there for you to get the general idea."

Make it fast. Professor Death, as he was called among his fellow researchers, snapped while he re-crossed his arms over his chest and watched with the same bored expression he had before. I would like to finish the accidents report by eight tonight so that I can enjoy a warm bowl of Murg Razala in the canteen, Max. I have been eating at my desk for the past two days and I need some time off. Tomorrow I need to start training my replacement interns, which I can assure you is bothersome. He felt the needle leave his hand and he slipped it back into his pocket.

You know, I am reconsidering your offer. I'm sure any assistant you recommend would be better than the bleeding hearts they have been assigning me. The sides of his mouth twitched with irritation when he recalled the last assistant vaguely. Let me know once you've talked to him. I hope you make it crystal clear that I won't tolerate any fools.

I'll see what I can do, Doc. Maximillian nodded thankfully towards the mentor as he slipped the needle into the pocket of his lab coat. "No problem, I know how busy you people can be. Sure, I'll check it out, see how things are going."

The Snake was no stranger to Professor Death's habits. The both of them shared actually quite a few similarities when it came down to testing on unwilling individuals. The two had a mutual relationship regarding that aspect even. Those kind of deals actually benefit both sides, which was only a winning situation when it came down to it.

Taking Chuahan's proposition into consideration, the Predator crept up to the side of the two students that had been working together into administering poison doses to animal test subjects. Like an animal befit of his title, he stalked the two with his keen, analytic eyes until the right opportunity presented itself.

"Steady now. Stay calm, don't let your stress take over. Animals feel your state of mind. They'll grow agitated if you handle them with shaky hands. Don't want to miss an important artery, or have them bite you, yes?" Maximillian tried to reassure the two trainees. Just as they were to inject the animal with the newly-made toxin, Maximillian stealthily produced the needle from his baggy lab coat and stabbed them with uncanny precision into a vein located somewhere on the body where less nerves pass through. His dexterous hands and expertise allowed him to administer the poison without them feeling any of it but a small itching.

With the deed being done, the Snake took his leave from the trainees' side after watching the various test animals falling one by one unconscious. "Hmm... seems to be working well. Good job."

Walking past a bored-looking Chuahan, Maximillian bade the man farewell with a wave of his hand and a nod. Just as he passed the lab's door, he turned to see the two students he had pricked with the poisoned needle fall on the ground. With the Anti-Alchemy substance mixed as part of this new deadly poison, not even the best Alchemist could save them. Before any alchemical effects could kick in, the anti-alchemy flowing through the victims' veins would negate it.

A wicked smile crept up on the Predator's face before the door closed in front of him, cutting the shouts of panic inside the laboratory. With his courtesy visit over at the Laboratory, Maximillian figured he could use some peace and quiet at the library until he would be called back by either the higher-ups or his brother.

---

Much akin to his brother, Jonathan was also an innovative guy. Interested however in the making of arms and equipment however was the difference between the man of science Max was and the man of technological weaponry Jon was. Both members of the Predators encompassed innovation in different areas.

Jonathan, being a man of action, was always interested in testing out whatever new babies the guys and gals at the Foundry were developing. From highly-destructive weapons to stealthy tools of assassination, the tall bronze-skinned man was always enthusiastic in providing his self as a tester, which was the joy of many less bold and/or brave weapon designers. Not only was Jonathan a genuine man when it came to conceptualize and make gear, he was also keen on criticizing and giving out opinions in its truest form. To criticize was to make better, bring whatever is being made to near-perfection.

As soon as he entered the industrial area that was the Foundry, the younger member of the Predator was greeted with the mixed smell of heated metal, smoking gunpowder and saturated energy projectors. A truly welcoming scent, the big man thought as he grinned and made his way inside the complex after donning the necessary safety hard hat and pair of googles. Old faces, new faces, Jonathan took a keen interest at who was working on which projects. There were so many being made in here, so many people too, in order to keep the stock full and progress towards making better weaponry for future encounters.

The statuesque man’s presence did not go unnoticed in the area. He was a one-of-a-kind and familiar sight to a lot of the engineers working in the Foundry, who greeted the Bloodhound with a loud call or a wave. Returning their greeting with a wolfish grinning nod, the tattooed Predator made his way into the Foundry until he came into a more open clearing, where the engineers were working on testing weapons in a controlled environment. Stopping short behind a woman dressed in a padded protective jacket and overlooking the tests, the big man smiled and put a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Hey there, Stella. Looking gorgeous today, as always. What are you and your boys testing this time?”

"Paws off, Johnny boy," she growled, slapping away his hand. "Pull that stunt on me again and I'll make sure ya goddamn brother won't recognize you." The sharp inhalation at the end caused her to break into a coughing fit. Recovering swiftly, Stella pulled herself up once more and replaced the cigar back into its former place wedged between her lips. She puffed slowly, watching the grey smoke curl away into nothingness. "You young 'uns sure ain't no gentleman. Not like when I was a wee bird."

Her comment was met with an tensed silence in the group of young men gathered round. All of them kept glancing at each other nervously before they began backing away slowly. "Where're your balls?" she challenged. "I 'membered the time you gave me lip about my age." Her last snarl was greeted with the sound of retreating footsteps, as every last one of them made themselves scarce. This made her sigh deeply. "See that? They don't make them like they use ta."

She shrugged. "One friendly punch and some broken teeth is all it takes for them to run whenever I start joking. Blinkin' cowards the lot of them." Kicking the lid off the box in front of her half in anger and half out of necessity, the sassy dwarf of a woman remained with a foot perched over the edge of the crate. "See this? These beauts were stolen off a bunch of dead 'uns in St. Lucia."

A feral smile graced the aged Asylum's lips, as she leaned forward elbow to knee to stare at the macho half of the Predators. "Waddaya say, boy? Help lil ol' me test them and I'll give you first pick. They are the finest of rogue tech I've seen in awhile." Stella broke into a hacking laugh and brought her foot down. "Dem pirates had a frickin' technopath so they says. One that got his brains splat over the table."

Jonathan laughed at the antics of the woman. He couldn't appreciate this heartfelt honesty more than anyone else. It was a nice change to all the sneaky approaches most Asylums, especially his brother, were using to deceive the normal folks about their existence or simply to engage into friendly and diplomatic discussions.

This environment made him feel somewhat like an artificial home. It wouldn't beat living in the wilderness, but it was good to be here still. His eyebrow perked up in interest as he heard Stella talk about some high-tech weaponry they had retrieved from Rogues pirates.

Lighting up a cigarette himself, Jonathan nodded in agreement. "Dear, you know how to please a man!" he roared in laughter. "You got yourself a deal. Toss me anything you need tested, I'll gladly provide."

With the two on the same page, the Bloodhound soon found himself into the testing area while carrying a crate of weapons thanks to his alchemy-enhanced muscles, with Stella riding on top of that crate. Setting themselves up far from the targets, Jon greedily opened the container and inspected the weapons inside. Like the aged woman said, it sure was impressive how technological-advanced those weapons were, considering those were found on Rogues. Without a doubt, there was bound to be some organization behind the development of these. Maybe there was more to simply one technopath.

"The fuck is that?" Jonathan said with surprise as he pulled out a gigantic tube of metal, akin to a rocket launcher. That kind of thing was made for more than guerilla warfare, more like an assault on a base. Even for the man's size, this thing was practically unwieldy for most, taking at least two individuals to operate.

For about a hour, the tall man tested out the stolen goods, most which proved to be quite efficient, although some actually needed improvement. Throughout the testing, Jonathan would criticize the weapons, tell how some felt needlessly heavy onto the arms and needed to be made from lighter materials, how some barrels were misaligned and made the shots go awry, how some magazine sizes weren't large enough for the lack of stopping power. In the end, it would appear the large weapon he had produce wasn't working at all, but it seemed like to be a prototype of sorts. The interior revealed to be something capable of producing high-density energy charges, either functioning like an EMP generating gun, or laser-producing cannon in the most far-fetched theory. Either way, this thing was too advanced for a simple band of ragtag Rogues.

After all that testing, Jonathan had some fun, but was left on an empty stomach. "That was one heck of a haul your boys got their hands on, Stella. It's a pity the big fella wouldn't work, but I trust you can manage to get it functional." the tattooed man laughed confidently. "I'll see you around soon. Gotta get ready for this assignment soon."

Stella jumped and wrapped an arm round Jon's neck in a tight headlock. "You ain't going nowhere till I get ma beer. You know the drill - you owe me a beer when you take ma gun." She chuckled, as she dangled from behind with her two feet barely reaching the Bloodhound's knees. Each raspy wheezy punctuating her laughter dispersed a nauseating scent of stale cigar smoke and unbrushed teeth throughout their shared breathing space. "I bet you have time for a round or two."

"I was thinking of grabbing a bite, but sure, that we can do." The big man said with a wolfish grin. "To the bar!" Even though there was actually no real bar inside the Innocence, the cafeteria offered some alcohol for those who didn't want any juice or soft drinks, something to spice up their day.

Hey brother, I'm heading to the cafeteria for a drink. Want to join us?

Now that you mention it, we haven't had the chance to eat dinner with our cancelled game. I'll be there, but you can enjoy your drink with whoever you are right now.

Taking different paths to reach the cafeteria, Jonathan was the first to arrive, being the faster of the two brothers despite carrying an unexpected load onto his shoulders. After ordering a few drinks, which Jonathan gladly paid for, he settled down at a table near the entrance.

Maximillian shortly after entered, his eyes scanning for the folks already sitting there. He rose an eyebrow in curiosity as he recognized two notable duos speaking to each other. Ange Mortem and the Banshees.

What a deathly combo we have here. The Angels of Death with the Deathly Apparitions. Sounds like a band's name.

Shrugging mentally at this curious meeting, the Snake went to the counter and ordered some food to grab and eat at the back-end of the cafeteria. Usually he would've taken a seat next to his brother and eat together, but the lad was already enjoying company with someone else and both were being noisy as their usual selves.

Location: Medical Facilities→ Cafeteria (Innocence Airship)
Time: Day Time (Approx. 2 Hours Before the Meeting)
_{Collab Between @Fallenreaper and @Ryver et Rhine}

---

Cade drifted in and out of awareness. His eyes fluttered but remained close as he floated weightless in the thick, liquid like substance used for healing in the fish tank. It had a greenish hue indicating it had been made through a combination of alchemy and science, both evenly mixed into a harmony that saved lives nearly too far gone. Thick restraints attached themselves to his wrists, waist and ankles to limit his movement so he wouldn’t scratch at the itching, healing flesh on his body during the last few days. The rawness during his struggles faded thanks to the accelerated healing and were nothing but a tormenting memory.

Patches of whiter skin, both muscle and skin, had been grafted over the numerous holes across Cade’s torso, thighs, legs, arms and more. The most gnarled one rested on his neck and face, where the hook had penetrated under his jawline then bursted through his cheek. The medical team had to reassemble the broken bones into place with dissolvable mesh wiring and reconstruct what hadn’t been brought back. However, most would say he was lucky to even be alive with the damage he had sustained, but Cade would’ve disagree.

Over the last few days, the Asylum’s mind flashed with images seared into his brain.

Cade edged into the meat factory. His hand pushed the dangling carcasses of frozen cattle, all butched recently for the next shipment. The blood dripped on his glove as he retracted from sight toward the nearest shadow. His wide eyes flickered from one direction to another, alert and ready for anything. At least… he thought so.

A clinging sound erupted from his left and darted at him. His arm immediately went up to defend himself only to find the hook’s end latch into his flesh and deep into the muscle, penetrating the forearm’s center. Shock began to set in as the blood trickled from the wound and his attention stood fixed on the dripping crimson staining his parka. He held his breath in stun silence. Suddenly jerked it upright and back, his arm forced to bend unnaturally and the elbow stressed against the pressure. Cade screamed abruptly when another hook came flying out of the darkness. This one penetrated his lower jaw line and silenced his scream into gurgling sound. His feet promptly rose on his tiptoes to ease the pain in his face while it lifted up. Suddenly, more hooks began to claw and hook into him.

A white haired man casually parted the hanging carasses with his arms, finally revealing himself. His eyes raised to reveal an albinism pink tint to them while he smiled sadistically at the Asylum caught in his metal web. He outstretched a hand then spoke, “A foolish little mouse you are, to merely walk into my little lair and believe you’ll make it out alive. Now… to find out if you’re alone or not.”

With those words echoing in Cade’s ears, the hook attached at his upper thigh began to grind deeper into his wound. In a few painful moments, it then ripped free and exposed the bone. Cade inwardly screamed in pain, feeling his consciousness slip away.

Cade jerked awake as the water sent up about three bubbles causing him to stir from his nightmares. The liquid’s level then began to drop lower and drained quickly, leaving his naked figure to feel the air’s chill for the first time in days. Gently, his back settled against the gel like seat and imprinted into it when gravity kicked in. He fought a raw, rough cough that rattled at the pressure on his chest. His nearly healed lungs inflated then twitched, increasing the burning sensation in his insides and caused him to stutter mentally in his awareness.

A soft hiss came as the lower half split apart and flipped to the sides, the top part shortly followed as it jerked upwards. The chill increased in the air causing Cade to shiver and goosebumps to raise over his skin. Medical staff materialized into his vision as their hands began to examine the vivid white scars, poking and prodding them, drawing Cade to jerk at his bonds. The durable and cloth like materials rubbed gently at the wet skin at his wrists before he began to settle down. His eyes sting and head twisted away from the bright lights over head to shield himself, the medical staff’s manners reflected AMRO’s views over the asylum though they became better over the years.

A nurse began to remove the wiring as the rest of the staff exited. One by one, they left the young Asylum alone to be retrieved by his partner. Cade laid there for several moments as he let time tick by. His fingers were the first to move and heavily reached up. He reached to weakly grasp the edge of his temporarily bed and pulled himself upright, breathing hard in his efforts. After being tank ridden for a few days, the Asylum knew getting back to working shape would be difficult and Samad wasn’t likely to be very patient about it either.

Cade began to move again. His left leg was the first, the limp edged to the side then slipped over to dangle down several inches from the floor. At that moment, he knew mentally the drop would play hell on his balance and threaten to bring him face first into the floor. In the end, it wouldn’t matter because Samad would press the issue either way. Cade inhaled then flipped his right leg to rest beside his left and with one brave shove, he pushed off the bed onto the ground.

His legs gave out from under him immediately. Gravity brought him down onto the cold tile as he gasped in surprise, the sound melted into a painful grunt when the wind was knocked out of him on impact. Right now he could easily relate to newborn deer trying to find its legs before a hungry predator ate him. The only difference, Samad seemed ten times worst than any carnivore Cade had ever crossed.

Warm, brown hands lifted Cade up by his armpits and brought the unsteady young man back up onto the cool metal top of the open fishtank. Omar smiled kindly while offering the out of commission doctor a cup of warm chai. “You are as stubborn as ever,” the twenty-five-year-old chided. “I’d thought you’d have enough common sense to wait for Samad.”

“To be honest, Samad can be ten times worst than any injury I suffer trying to stand. I don’t think he’ll be happy to learn I can’t even keep myself upright or walk,” Cade said weakly, his muscles more limp than he expected and failed to follow his wants to stand upright. He shivered from the chill and gratefully took the cup offered to him, “Thank you.”

The weakened Asylum timidly took a sip, enjoying the spicy and warmth of the chai spilling into his being. His eyes turned up to address Omar as he said in a worried tone, “You’re not going to say anything, are you?”

“Don’t worry,” he reassured Cade. “I won’t breathe a word to my brother. I think you suffered enough indignity getting those wounds.” Omar allowed Cade to take several sips of the honey infused, spiced tea before he motioned for the man to set the cup aside. Pulling out his stethoscope, the Iranian doctor began his short examination. First the heart, next blood pressure then the reflexes and finally the pupils. Satisfied with his conclusion, the younger Kian couldn’t resist teasing the American before offering his own professional opinion. “So, doc,” he spoke with a wry tone. “What would you recommend for yourself?”

Cade chuckled, his figure still a bit wobbly, when he finally spoke, “Take it easy for a few hours and physical therapy, which we both know won’t happen. Samad won’t like this in the least. What have I missed while I’ve been out?” Cade asked, hinting toward how his gruff partner was doing since his admission into the tank.

“Almost, but not quite right,” Omar acknowledged. He tapped his chin for a bit, wondering how skeptical Cade would be about his proposal. Both of them had some form of medical training before entering AMRO, but the use (and abuse) of technology and alchemy allowed mere humans to achieve much more than what is known currently by non-Alchemist. He had a sense that Cade hadn’t quite grasp that yet. The fact the younger man had suggested he needed physical therapy was proved that. “You should be up and running before your new mission,” he informed his fellow doctor. “Have a good meal to kick start your system again. Make sure you pick something with lots of protein, a decent amount of carbohydrates and drink lots of water.”

“I will, but that’s if Samad lets me,” He answered as he stretched his arms a bit, trying to ease the pain dancing in them. After a moment or two, he tilted downward to the tank side and pressed a button. A slot from the bottom of the fish tank popped out with a hiss allowing Cade to reach in and withdraw his glasses.

Listening to Omar, he popped open the ends then slipped it over his eyes. It took a bit of time to adjust as he blinked and let his vision straightened up.

Omar continued talking in the same friendly tone as he walked towards the rows of steel and glass cupboards. He opened the nearest one and pulled out several bottles one at a time. Finally, he took one of the empty pill boxes from the drawers at the bottom of the cupboard and started filling it with the pills from the bottles he studied earlier. As he walked back to the open fishtank, he started keying in the prescription into the computerized lock sealing the box.

“These will be all you need for the next two days. Mainly vitamins and nutrition pills to minimize the impact of your drastic weight loss.” The Iranian explained. “I’ve included a couple of pain relievers and some anti-vertigo pills as well. Take those at your discretion.” As he spoke the last bit, he narrowed his eyes at Cade for a bit. “I hope I will trust that you won’t abuse those. They can be highly addictive if not taken with care.”

The patient sighed, his hand extended to take the bottles and adjusted his glasses. He leaned in to read the label then raised a eyebrow. His head shifted to look to Omar as he commented on the drugs, “These aren’t in the...testing phase are they?”

Before Omar could answer, Samad’s figure turned into the doorway and entered the room. His hand on his cane as he limped in quietly despite his mental handicap. His rich voice spoke, breaking the moment between Cade and his brother, “Farid, you really should let him stand on his own feet or you’re going to have him become dependent on you. That’s not going to help anyone.”

“Hold that thought, Cade,” Omar spoke as he turned around to face his older brother. Smiling warmly he made his way towards Samad and pulled the man into a tight embrace. As the hugged, the younger brother kissed the elder on his right cheek as per the custom from their country. “Salam, dadash,” he greeted. “You’re the only one to call me Farid still. Maaman and Ysar have gotten too used to calling me Omar.”

“Salam, moddate ziadi ast ke shoma ra nadideh am. And it’s your own fault for changing your name to keep tabs on Sahar,” Samad commented, returning the greeting and letting a smile flick over his expression. He pulled back and leaned upon his cane as he focused on Omar.

“Maaman,” Omar responded automatically, cringing slightly at the fact that Samad chose to address her by her name. “Maaman worries about all of us, so I do my best to put her mind at ease. It’s what a son does. But yes, it’s been awhile. I see you are in good health. Alhamdulilah.”

The attending doctor stood before his brother with his hands tucked firmly in his pocket. His smile still unwavering. “He can stand on his own well enough,” Omar stated calmly not wishing to agitate his brother. “Surely, you remembered your last visit to the tank. You complained about having some dizziness … some numbness too, if I recall. I think putting Cade in a wheelchair for now would be fair, don’t you think?”

“If he hadn’t been stupid enough to go out on his own and refuse to remain back, he would’ve not ended up in his current condition. He didn’t tell you how he ended up like this did he?”

“I’m sure it’ll be a tale to tell,” Omar chuckled. “My concern right now would be to make sure you two are field ready in two hours. My sources say that Ante Mortem arrived not too long ago. I won’t be surprised if they are stirring up trouble again. They have a track record for that.”

“I wonder if this has something to do with the information I got about a Bloodline having issues. How is ours?” Samad asked, using the topic of Chrono and her partner to collect additional information about their own past.

“Maaman’s letter arrived yesterday or so. Seems like we are both uncles-to-be and Ysar is well enough to resume his duties. Alhamdulilah. Maaman … I have my suspicions but I will let her share more with me in her own time.” Seeing a slight frown creasing Samad’s forehead, Omar felt it might be better to reassure his brother. “The letter was dated a month or so back, but I believe they’re fine. Maaman especially. We would have heard news otherwise.”

He refrained from mentioning that Ysar or Sahar hadn’t been writing as frequently of late due to a series of strange killings recently. In fact, his mother only hinted their cousin’s and uncle’s deaths were only two out of a string of deaths that have been happening among the Bloodline families. “I have a feeling you and Cade maybe selected to investigate to investigate the deaths I mentioned last time,” he voiced thoughtfully, hinting at the disturbing news he had shared only with Samad. “I know for a fact that Minu and Bahar haven’t return from their respective missions.”

“I hope not,” Samad mumbled. He didn’t like the idea of being sent on what he saw as a suicide mission, his figure moved to lean against the far wall in order to shift weight from his leg.

“We’ll see. I was informed to make sure Cade is ready to leave in two hours time,” Omar stated before leaving Samad’s side to retrieve a wheelchair from the far side of the room. As he approached Cade again, he noticed the man looked a little left out. He smiled apologetically and decided to bring the young doctor back into the conversation.

“As for your question, Cade, no. I don’t want you collapsing out in the field. I gave you similar pills the last time and your body responded well.” He paused to fiddle around with the wheelchair. “Only the packaging changed because we are liaising with a different pharmaceutical company.” He shrugged. “Guess we have to keep things affordable somehow.”

Cade nodded. He didn’t want to attract Samad’s attention to him, through every subtle shot at him hurt and made him aware of his shortcomings. It made sense since AMRO was a huge organisation and their priorities, staff and more changed when it suited them. Just another reason he wasn’t a big fan of them besides the fact his life was no longer his own.

“Or the previous company fell on AMRO’s bad side,” Cade shifted and felt his stomach rumbled, his arm clenched to it in order to keep it quiet, He noticed something, “Where’s Zak? He returned from the mission alright?”

“Yes, he wants us to meet him in the cafeteria. Which we should be heading to,” Samad informed Cade then reached for a wheelchair, his attention then turned to Omar, “Can you help me get him in?”

“I can do one better! Let me help you wheel him there,” the other Iranian volunteered. He avoided bringing up his brother’s limp, sensing that Samad wouldn’t appreciate him pointing out the weakness in front of Cade. With things as they were between the Experimental Team, perhaps it was best to let Samad decide when to start opening up to the American, Omar thought. “He should be up and walking by the time the briefing starts, so you won’t need to bother about the wheelchair then.”

Samad snorted in disagreement, “Mersi and I doubt that, he’s been known to take longer to recover than most.”

“I’ll make you some of Maaman’s bastani if Cade isn’t walking as promised,” Omar joked. “Cade’s a very healthy young man, so I’m sure he’d be more than okay. Right, Cade? That said, I heard from Hattie you are impartial to the lasagna. Beef, was it? No somthing like pepperoni was in it. Why don’t we get you that?”

“Pizza bake. It’s like lasagna, but with pizza toppings in it and pasta instead of noodles. I’ll get my mother’s recipe if you want to take a stab at making it once. Unless you’re like Samad and hate to cook,” Cade offered, his head turned to Samad who huffed subtly at the mention of his least favorite topic. That was enough to make the wheelchair bound Asylum smile.

“Well, that’s a topic for another time,” Omar declined as politely as he could. He enjoyed cooking but he never cooked for anyone other than his family. And, as kind as Cade’s offer was, it made him feel a little more awkward than he’d like to admit. He wasn’t sure if Cade was making a subtle request or the young man didn’t realise that he sounded a little imposing. “I think we better go before Samad decides to leave without us.”

Samad was getting antsy as he helped his brother to place Cade into the wheelchair and secure the patient. When all was said and done, he strolled beside the two as they exited the room. Gently, the older Iranian paced his hand on Omar’s shoulder on the route to the cafeteria. Omar simply nodded in appreciation as he struck up a brief conversation with Samad in their native tongue. It was the only way he could convey more information about the Kians privately while aboard Innocence.

A Xoddy and Rtron Collaboration.

Maeve’s eyes narrowed at the title of ‘Celtic Queens’ but she made no reply. It wouldn’t do any good regardless. He’d just make an annoying quip or remark. The two Banshees changed their course and approached the Ante Mortem. Noticeably, they didn’t approach with the caution or worry other Asylums had. They were used to the mad duo by now, having run on missions with them before. “Nice to see you to Rin.” Kiara replied, smiling slightly. Maeve merely rolled her eyes, focusing instead on Angel. Her eyebrows rose as he made his offer, Kiara’s mirroring the action perfectly. They were surprised. And suspicious. Angel didn’t do anything like this unless he expected wholesale amusement from it. Usually at the expense of whomever he had just paid. On the other hand, two coins for Ourosboros would be extremely useful, and not just for the entire debauchery spiel.

“So, you want me to punch a guy through a fishtank. Fair enough. I’m down.” Maeve moved to go over to the Asylum in question, stopping as Kiara’s hand touched her arm. “Why. What’d he do to offend the mighty Ante Mortem just enough to warrant a beating, but not enough that you go over there and do it yourself?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow at the tall man.

Angel casually glanced towards the direction of Kiara, his chin resting upon his arms, a look of complete bewilderment. He had just offered the two a deal, they would probably never get, and even then it was questioned? How typical, he thought being well aware of Kiara’s saintly personality. “I could pull rank….” Angel replied with a slight smirk, “I am a Lost Number and my Partner is a Chrono, we are not really allowed to cause a scene…..it will result in a political upheaval.” The Reaper finished, finally lifting his head to look upon the two Banshees. “As to why? It is simple…...I do not like his face, it is the face of one who forgets his place and revels under false pretense.”

Kiara smiled in both amusement and quiet enjoyment. Mad as he was, Angel was always interesting to talk to. “We all know that even with the rank of Chrono you can’t make us beat up someone you just don’t like in Innocence. There are rules, and we don’t all have your protection.” Her smile grew wider at the reason he wasn’t doing it himself. “My, my. Must be a very dangerous political climate to make the Ante Mortem wary of disturbing it. Fair enough. We’ll do it. You give us the coins and the dubious protection from backlash that Rin can offer, and Maeve will go over and punch him through a fish tank. I’ll stay back and make sure his friends don’t beat her into the ground.”

Maeve bared her teeth in a vicious grin. “I haven’t had a good fight in ages!”

“Literally two days.”

”Ages. Hold on to my coat please? I don’t want to ruin it.”

With that, she tossed her coat to Kiara and sauntered off towards the Asylum in question, humming lightly to herself.

Kiara rolled her eyes and got up, leaving Maeve’s jacket, and walked towards the lunch line. Maeve stopped as well, scowling at her partner in impatience. The Shadow Queen waved a cheery hand at her partner as she stood in line, smiling cheekly. Maeve responded with a rude gesture. Still, she waited as Kiara got her hot tea and returned, gently blowing on the boiling hot liquid as she sat across from the Ante Mortem. She looked sideways at Angel, watching her partner approach the unfortunate Asylum. “So. What has he done or is going to do that will piss Maeve and/or myself off? You wouldn’t send her in unless you expected a brutal brawl. And you already know that she’s going to treat this like a game unless pushed to far. What’s going to be the tipping point?”

“Of course I expect a brawl, little banshee,” the Reaper replied with a kind smile while casually stealing a spoon of Rin’s ice-cream, for which he received a blank stare from the Chrono, possibly disapproval behind the callous demeanour. “Mine,” the Chrono coldly lashed back before pushing her desert to the side and away from the swindling fiend.

“You see my dear, I have this medical condition.” Angel continued, heaving a sarcastic sigh of depression as if plagued by a terminal illness. “I am terribly allergic to human debris, surely you wouldn’t want me to sully my hands and get unwell,” he crowed while maintaining his gentle smile, clearly pleased from the taste of spoonful of chocolate he just had. “Maeve on the other hand is not like you or I,” the Crimson waistcoat wearing Lost Number casually continued while tapping the frame of his spectacles. “She is a warrior at heart and thrives on the battlefield, you usher her in the right direction and she will find conflict where it exists.” As he continued he couldn’t help but stare in the direction of the other Banshee who was making her way to the Asylum. “The personalities of those two are complete opposite, they are like dynamites about to brush against each other…..you wait….and eventually….boom”

“You realize,” Kiara shrugged off her cape and idly put the long barrel of E.L.G into her hand, taking a drink of her tea. “if he has done something really bad, and she finds out, she’ll kill him. And I won’t stop her.” She slid two pairs of earplugs across the table to the Ante Mortem. “Here. You might want to put these in. If it's going to be as big of a boom as Angel hopes, you two would like to be able to hear things and not have your eardrums burst.”

Angel couldn’t help but shrug nonchalantly, the significance of that Asylum’s life was next to dirt, why would the Reaper care if he be killed? “I will be indifferent to his death, however I will not be able to extend the same degree of protection to you both if your partner murders an Asylum within the premises of Innocence.” He finished in a tone that would convey the underlying message, every deal has a clause and even the Devil must obey the laws of the contract. With that said, he accepted the pair of earplugs from Kiara, whereas Rin merely dumped her pair in an empty ice-cream bowl.

Kiara shrugged at Reri. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She turned her slightly apprehensive gaze back to Maeve as the celtic woman approached her target.

“I hear you’ve been telling stories!” Maeve called as she approached. The obnoxious asylum looked up, mildly annoyed at being interrupted mid story. His annoyed scowl turned into a leer as his eyes roved over her form. Maeve smiled at him. “Mind telling me one?” “Sure. I always love making beautiful women ache to sleep with me.” Maeve’s smile twitched. “Which one do you want to hear?” “Why don’t we start with the most recent one?”

The obnoxious asylum grinned, and began repeating his story.

Maeve’s hand tightened into a fist as he reached the end, repeating what he did to the children.

Kiara sighed, finishing the rest of her tea and standing up.

Bone spread from the wires around Maeve’s fist, covering it. “Is that so?” Maeve asked after he finished, words carefully articulated. The eyes of the students around her went wide as they saw what was happening. The obnoxious asylum, oblivious as he continued to eye fuck Maeve, responded flippantly. “That’s right sugar tits. Why? Want me to impale your ass t-”

He suddenly flew backwards and smashed through the fish tank, slamming into the wall behind it. Water and glass was everywhere, and dead silence reigned. Maeve cracked her knuckles, bone flowing over her body.

The obnoxious asylum stood up, blood streaming from his shattered nose and various cuts on his body. “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” He screamed, taking moving towards the red haired woman. Maeve grinned at him. “Maeve. Of the Bean Sidhes, Banshees if you prefer. Right now though?” The bone flowed over her head and mouth, making a grinning skull, muffing her next words. “Tá mé do tromluí is measa.” The man stopped for a moment, recognizing the name. “Leibhéal 3.” The emerald gem on Maeve’s neck shone a bright green from within. Nine other asylums began to move, heading towards Maeve and her victim. His friends.

Shadows leapt around the students, and others in the cafeteria, shoving earbuds into their ears, almost impossible to see. The nine asylums were left alone.

The obnoxious asylum tried to move, slipping on water. Maeve leapt through the shattered fish tank, and then screamed at him.

A solid wall of sound slammed into her victim, lifting him off his feet and pinning him against the wall. The nine asylums screamed in pain, stumbling or falling and covering their ears. Kiara felt sorry for them. Having burst eardrums was an excruciating experience.

She moved quickly towards them, her cloak flowing down her arm and wrapping tightly around it, hardening into a weapon. As soon as she was within range, she slammed the barrel of E.L.G into the back of the head of one of the Asylums. She felt sorry. But not that sorry. The man fell to the ground, unconscious. Maeve was still screaming, and Kiara could see bones poking out in various places of her victim’s body.

She began moving to another downed asylum as Maeve ran out of breath. Her victim fell to the ground, and was on him immediately. She kicked him in the ribs and chest, shouting at him. “Céard atá mícheart? Ní féidir leat troid i gcoinne duine nach bhfuil leanbh!” More blood sprayed as he cried out in pain, jerking back.

Kiara moved quickly, trying to take down another Asylum before they healed their eardrums. Just as she swung her barrel at the head of another, he rolled out of the way. Kiara cursed, launching her cloak at him. It hardened into a fist, sweeping towards him. Kiara was suddenly knocked to the side as another asylum kicked her in the ribs. Crying out in pain, she rolled back to her feet, her cloak returning to her in an instant. Three more Asylums had gotten up, rolling their shoulders and looking at Kiara in irritation. They were all bringing out their own weapons. One was pulling on a pair of gloves, another sliding brass knuckles, the third holding a baton, and the fourth had a baseball bat. Lovely. This is going to hurt.

The other five were still recovering. Perhaps stunned, perhaps still trying to cling to the rules of the parley. Not important right now. What was important was the four Asylums rapidly closing in on her.

Kiara lashed out with her cloak again, clipping the one with brass knuckles. The other three leapt at her in an instant. “Level 1!” Kiara dodged a baseball bat, kicking him in the stomach, and blocked the baton with her cloak. She drew in a breath to scream, only to have a gloved hand close around her neck. A shock of lightning later, and she flew backwards, slamming into the wall. She lay there for a moment, stunned. She tried to scream, but all she did was normally shout, drawing chuckles. Gloves had disabled her B.S.C. Strong hands closed around her arms, holding her up. She was dragged forward, vaguely noticing gold glinting on knuckles. “This is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt us ‘Shadow Queen.’” A rough voice mocked. She saw a flash of gold as someone lifted their fist. ”Maeve!” Her cry was both mental and vocal, desperation and confusion making her incautious.

Maeve whirled around, dropping the obnoxious asylum from the death grip she had on him. Her knuckles were even bloodier than her feet, and blood covered the rest of her in splatters. The obnoxious Asylum was both silent and unmoving. Maeve snarled as she saw the situation Kiara was in, leaping through the fish tank again. “Hey! Catch seo tú bastards!” She picked up the table next to her, and slung it like a frisbee towards the Asylums. The two asylums holding her up leapt out of the way. The brass knuckled asylum wasn’t so quick. The table smashed into his back, flinging him forward and trapping him against the wall. He went limp, eyes rolling in the back of his head. Kiara thought she could see bone poking out of his spine.

The gloved asylum moved quickly, lunging for Maeve’s own collar. The Celtic woman jerked away, but not fast enough. Lightning sparked through her neck, and she snarled in pain as she slid backwards. He came at her again, perhaps trying to give her a stronger volt this time. Foolish. Grabbing Gloves’ extended arm, she threw him into the wall behind her. In an instant, four more asylums were on her. The other five had recovered.

Maeve spewed curses in Irish, her armor taking the brunt of the blows, and started swinging. The smarter ones leapt back. Those that didn’t were thrown back with broken noses or jaws. Maeve stood tall, breathing heavy and snarling at the asylums around her. They stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to do about the armor. Then all five of them started circling her, like a pack of hyenas. “Cladhaire fucking. An comhrac agus a bhfuil tú roinnt liathróidí!” They didn’t. Every time she tried to attack one, the others would leap in and force her to defend herself, striking hard against her armor. Cracks were beginning to show in her armor.

Kiara was in no better position. Mindful of the rules of Innocence, she could only quickly and barely use her alchemy. A shadow tugging a swinging arm for a millisecond, giving her time to run. Another shadow wrapping around a leg for the briefest of times, tripping the victim. So on so forth. Despite all this, the three remaining asylum were hard pressing her. She dodged what she could and took the brunt of what she couldn’t. Her ribs hurt, probably cracked, and she was already blooming new bruises across her face and arms. The Shadow Queen stumbled backwards as a baton cracked across her face. God I hope that didn’t knock a tooth out. She thought inanely, righting herself into a defensive position as fast as possible. Spitting blood, she grimaced at the baseball bat, baton, and the kendo stick wielding asylums. “Is that all you’ve got? I’ve took worse beatings from my grandma when I was five.”

---

🇹🇮🇲🇪: Present time
🇱🇴🇨🇦🇹🇮🇴🇳: Inside the cafeteria
In collaboration with @Rtron

---

A short time after the duo of Predators had entered the cafeteria, a fight broke out. Instincts boiled deep down in Jonathan’s veins as he abruptly rose from his chair, clenched fists shaking and a wide grin drawn on his face. For Maximillian, he had observed the situation as he was eating, and found the situation quite ridiculous. He noticed just how much his brother craved for a fight.

Sit down John, and bide your time. They are outnumbered right now. If you do anything stupid, you’ll just join them in the infirmary.

On the other side of the cafeteria, the imposing Bloodhound reluctantly sat back onto his chair. As he crossed his arms, if one was paying close attention to details, they would notice the big man’s thumb trailing onto his skin in a pattern that wasn’t suggesting he was scratching himself.

Throughout the fight, Maximillian watched how the Banshees were handling themselves. They were strong, that much was a given, but it meant little when outnumbered one to five against other alchemists. He’d seen the shadows flicker, signs of Alchemy he had recognized from his read earlier.

Indeed, before coming to grab a meal, Maximillian had been inside the Library for a hour, studying the profiles of his assigned teammates for the mission they were about to be briefed for later today. The Snake always preferred to be prepared as soon as he would be hearing he and his brother were assigned for duties, especially when paired with other people.

Thinking about it more thoroughly, maybe helping the Banshees through this predicament would be the better thing to do. Have them on their good side before even getting to the meeting would probably be most beneficial later on in the mission. If they were lucky, they may even go beyond simple recognition and be morally indebted to the brothers. Now that was something worth considering.

Just when the shadow-manipulating Banshee staggered onto a wall by her assailants, Jonathan rose from his chair once more and let out a howling laugh of glee.

“A fight! This day is turning out to be better by the hour!”

Taken by surprise at the appearance of the large Predator, one of the men assaulting Maeve got punched squared in the jaw, sending the man fumbling across the cafeteria and crashed into a table. At this sight, the grinning wolf of the two Predators burst in laughter.

“Five to one ain’t a reasonable fight, boys! C’mon, give me your best shot!”

Maximillian obviously knew what his brother intentions were from the start. The bond they shared not only as Asylums, but as blood brothers, made the two linked in ways that border-lined reading one another’s mind. Plus, it’s not as if Jonathan was a guy hard to read, after all. The Snake turned his gaze to the Shadow Queen, surrounded by three remaining Asylums. Rules dictated that one should not use his Alchemy to fight another Asylum inside Innocence, but the same couldn’t be said about weapons and the like. As long as it didn’t outright kill someone, that is.

Fidgeting with the syringe still inside his lab coat, Maximillian took it out and put it on the table in front of him. Apparently, there was still a small leftover of the liquid he had used earlier. A wicked grin flashed on the pale man’s face as he took out one vial, plunged the needle into the cork and withdrew the blue liquid from the vial.

Setting the syringe onto the table nonchalantly, Maximillian returned to his plate, as if he was the least concerned about this whole encounter. However, he perked up a glance towards Kiara, reaching out to her mentally. Out of the two, the Shadow Queen was apparently the most reasonable of the Banshees, willing to go to certain lengths to ensure their survival and getting out from encounters on top.

If you are willing for a little bit of toxic delivery, I just happen to have a gift to help you guys out, set on my table. If not, could you give it to my brother instead?

Maeve glanced only briefly at the Bloodhound, her face hidden behind the skull mask. "Lad a choinneáil as mo chúl." She said, launching herself at Gloves. The man skirted backwards, hands going up defensively as Maeve threw a punch at his face.

Kiara dodged a kendo stick and the baseball bat, catching the police baton on her cloak. Almost immediately she lashed out with the same cloak, forcing her assailants to leap back. She lashed out quickly again, trying to avoid them from closing in on her once more.

Her response to Maximillian was slightly sarcastic.

Gee, thanks. I'll just hop over there and grab it! Or, even better, I'll waste the time needed to protect myself as best I'm able by focusing on making a shadow extend all the way across the cafeteria without attracting attention and return just as stealthily! Brilliant!

She ducked the baseball bat and slammed the barrel of E.L.G into his leg, as he cursed and instinctively jerked his leg back, her cloak formed a fist and smashed into his stomach, knocking the air out of him as he stumbled backwards. The other two were on her in a second, forcing her back on the defensive.

If you want to help, you're going to have to come closer.

Maximillian offered no response to Kiara's sarcastic reply. He didn't plan on getting his own hands directly dirtied by this pointless fight the Banshees instigated. Instead, the reply came from an enlarged hand that slapped two of the shadow-manipulating Asylum's opponents into the wall.

"Ye boys and girls jus' quite fucked up me drinkin' time. Couldn't ye just take yer fuckin' squabbles down the trainin' grounds?" The hardened dwarven-sized woman who had been drinking with Jonathan grumbled, her size having changed to a more gigantic proportion, far more imposing than the taller of the two Predators.

As Maeve launched herself onto the gloves' wearing guy, it was expected the others would try to jump at her and use this opportunity to batter her up from behind. But as weapons came down, they clashed against what sounded like rock with a loud thud. Jonathan was standing in front of the assailants, between them and Maeve. Grinning devilishly, he seized one guy by the collar of his shirt and rammed him into the other, throwing the two of them to the side. Weapons continued bouncing against his skin as they tried to retaliate, but the Bloodhound's skin had become so hardened it felt as if they were simply swinging against a metal wall.

Rules be damned, this fight was starting to take the allure of an Alchemist battle with the shadows coiling around, the gigantic woman pummeling down on people and the large man passively using his body-alteration Alchemy to take hits. Soon, even the assaulting group of disgruntled Alchemists started using their arts.

Maximillian remained still on his seat and watched, his gaze going back and forth from the fight to his watch. Authority should be there to put a stop to this stupidity any moment now. If things would degenerate at an alarming rate, he'd just go into Overdrive and knock everyone unconscious with a poisonous fog. But that would be overkill and be quite troublesome. Instead, he simply settled with nudging the syringe he had left onto the table with a bit of kinesis Alchemy, making the poisonous dart fly a few tables before landing onto a new one, much nearer to the main attraction.

What the absolute fuck? He was talking about children—about slaughtering children! Rogues or not, the story the man was spewing from his ugly mouth made her stomach tighten into a knot. Whatever excitement she'd had for breakfast had vanished into thin air, and now, Audrey was leaning against the table and giving the man across the room a look of disgust.

As Audrey thought of the many horrible ways the man could die, Kayla continued typing away on her laptop. Clack, clack, clack. The sound of her friend's fingers typing away did little to ease Audrey's growing hatred for the man across the room. Kayla, ever the observant, picked up on the faces Audrey was making and noticed her friend's silent plight.

"Psst, Aud, I thought we were going to write our report?"

Audrey leaned back into her seat and groaned. "How can you write when fuck face over there won't shut up?"

Kayla bit down on her lip and ignored the hostility in her friends' voice. She didn't like him or his story either, but there wasn't anything they could do. "We should focus on the report. Come on, don't let him ruin breakfast. The food is great, there wasn't any mac and cheese at the border, but now we've got all we can eat!"

Noticing what her friend was trying to do, Audrey eased up on the anger and peered at the pasta and cheese combo on her friend's plate. "Fine, only because the mac and cheese looks great." And before Kayla could do anything, Audrey reached for her fork and nabbed a big chunk of food from off of her friend's tray. The food was promptly shoveled into Audrey's mouth.

"No fair, Aud!"

Audrey smirked. "What? You said it yourself, the mac and cheese is irresistible."

For a moment, the obnoxious asylum had been forgotten. At least, until a woman from across the room began striding towards him. Audrey arched an eyebrow at the scene before them and groaned in despair when the woman asked the man to repeat his story. It was the same disgusting tale—until Maeve punched him and sent him crashing through the fish tank.

Broken glass and water spilled into the room, and Audrey, she leaped to her feet and cheered.

"Hell yeah!"

"More like no," a stunned Kayla hissed as she reached for her friend's arm and tugged her back into her seat.

"Kayla, he's asshole of the month. He deserves it."

In the span of a few minutes, everything went to hell. The woman's partner (Audrey assumed it was her partner) jumped in to help and the asshole's friends jumped in and retaliated.

"Kick his butt!" Audrey hollered from where she and Kayla were seated.

"I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it," Kayla clarified. "But we're not getting involved."

Audrey blinked dumbly. Sure, she could be a brash idiot when people got on her nerves, but she had in no way been planning to get involved because:

1.) She was a fresh graduate and would get her ass kicked to kingdom come
2.) As cool as the brawl was, tons of people were already getting involved and it obviously wasn't going to end well
3.) Simply because she wasn't that stupid

"Kayla, we're not getting involved," she reassured.

"Good, good, we have a report to write—"

"Go bone lady!" Much to her friend's dismay, Audrey continued to cheer.

Moments before all chaos broke out-Literally--> Present

As Omar wheeled Cade toward a table, Samad exchanged a look with his younger brother and promptly moved to the nearest table to the exit. His hands gripped then slid one of the three chairs to the side before gesturing to place Cade there. Without another word, clearly showed dislike in his obligation, Samad then departed to grab Cade to eat from the bar set out for the students that ate throughout the day. Meanwhile, Omar bidded Cade good bye as he departed for something that required his attention.

While Cade wanted to ask, he got the impression he wouldn’t have gotten the answer that would’ve satisfied his curiosity and instead merely watched the man exit the cafeteria. Still feeling weak, he settled into hard plastic of the wheelchair and casually glance about. That’s when he spotted trouble. One of the notorious Bean Sidhes, or Banshees more commonly, caught his attention.

The redhead had began to stride, each step a mission, toward some asylums talking to some of the students from Innocence. Meanwhile her partner held back, sitting with Ante Mortem and sipping tea. That grim coffin propped against the back wall as they all seemed to be eyeing the tension between the celtic looking woman and another asylum.

Innocence.

The name left a bitter impression on his mind as he subtly snorted under his breath at the name since it was anything but innocent. In fact, it was a brutal and unforgiving training faculty that taught children who surged in Alchemical arts into being the best killers AMRO could produce. Cade’s hand tightened upon his wheelchair arm end until his knuckles turned white briefly then released. Most of these children didn’t know what they were missing, but having surged at a late age, he did.

”I hear you’ve been telling stories!” Maeve’s voice broke Cade’s reflection over his history over the school, “Mind telling me one?”

Cade got a dark, foreboding feeling over where this conversation was heading. Naturally his instincts were dead right. All the color drained from his skin upon overhearing the tell as his expression showed the horror of it in a subtle way, his eyes unable to remove themselves from the one responsible for it. The glass shattered breaking the spell as the fight broke out in the room. Naturally anyone nearby was quickly roped into it and what started off small conflict became an all out brawl.

Samad had returned, unfazed by the fighting in the middle of the cafeteria, as he set down Cade’s plate. His lips frowned upon seeing his partner distracted by the ongoings in the room. Other than the unpleasant sounds clashing of plates, fists randomly flying and tables being upturned, the older Asylum was unfazed by the scene as he plopped down to eat himself. While the Banshees were outnumbered, Samad knew authorities would arrive shortly to prevent anyone from being killed and end the fight abruptly. All those involved would be punished with either a slap on the wrist or worse depending on what the higher ups sought to be fitting

Unlike Maeve, he wasn’t about to get involved over something trivial as another scumbag bragging about killing kids. While the red headed Banshee might feel good about punching the living shit from the worthless trash, it wouldn’t change anything. The rogue children were likely dead no matter what, either through AMRO or another less stupid Asylum. That was the price for going against someone more powerful than you.

Samad knew the Asylum wasn’t about to suffer for his past actions, or AMRO would’ve done it already the moment he reported and spread the story among the students. Since the organization didn’t seem to think it was important enough to punish the idiot for, this hound wasn’t about to get a stick beating by the master for fighting in the yard and stirring up the other mutts up.

Ignoring the fighting in the background, Samad began to slid off a meat chunk off his first lamb kabob. It had a strong lemon, rosemary and olive oil scent from the grill as he tested the juiciness with a light pinch between his fingers. The liquid oozed out causing him to bite into it, savoring the medium-rare texture. Enjoying the burst of flavor, he began to chew and finish the rest while going for a red onion piece.

His eyes darted upward to see Cade hasn’t touched his plate yet. Instead he was distracted by the fight and undoubtedly debating on how to help the two female asylums. The thought was enough to make his eyes roll in frustration as he finished chewing.

Pausing on eating the red onion, he addressed Cade in a chiding fashion, “Stop staring, eat and don’t forget your medicine. Omar already said he gave you it and that it required food to work properly. I don’t want to be hauling you around in a wheelchair all the time.”

‘Aren’t we….help them?’ Cade asked, ripping his eyes away from the fighting.

As Cade’s mind reached through their imperfect link, Samad heard the broken speech and naturally translated it best he could. It didn’t take a genius to determine how his younger partner felt about the whole situation and what he wanted them to do. Still eating, he emptied his mouth to reply, “No.”

No additional explanation was offered.

“Why now?”

“They brought it on themselves. The Celtic lesbian sharmuta (whore) took the first swing, and shortly authorities will arrive to stop this.”

Cade frowned as he rolled from the table, pulling his wheelchair back. He bent at the waist down to his bag at his legs and began to rummage through it.

“What are you doing now?” Samad said through bites.

“I’m going to help them. Or at least stop this stupid fight before someone gets killed.”

“You can barely walk, one hit and you’re likely to get killed. So eat and stop being an humanitarian, it doesn’t suit an Asylum,” Samad’s words tossed away the concern that Cade had as being childish, but he stopped eating to watch his partner continue to dig into the bag. Realizing the man wasn’t about about listen to facts, the Iranian sighed then gritted his teeth silently for a moment, “Give me your bo staff.”

“What?” Cade paused, then looked at Samad as he righted himself for a moment.

“You heard me. Give me your bo staff and a vial of that blood pressure medication you keep, now. You want me to try to see if I can limit the injuries, you need to stay out of the way and eat. Now… is there anyone you know that will keep you from doing something stupid?” Samad asked, his hands folded under his chin. He waited patiently for Cade’s answer as the Asylum looked about, immediately spotting Audrey and her friend.

Reluctantly, the blonde then passed over his bo staff and a glass bottle then took a look around. He then pointed in Audrey’s direction, “I know her- Samad, what are you doing?!?”

Samad didn’t answer when he snatched up the bo staff, bottle and hooked his cane upon his arm upon his upright standance. Casually he picked up Cade’s still warm plate then plopped it down on his lap. The heat made Cade flinch and immediately jerk it from its place, preventing it from burning anything important. Meanwhile, Samad rolled a still heavily scarred Cade toward the direction he indicated earlier.

Not bothering to ask, Samad spoke to the two girls. He pointed to Audrey first, “Alright, this is Cade and he claims to know you. Watch him, don’t let him get up and make him eat. I’ll be back for him after I stop his complaining.”

Not giving Cade or Audrey any chance to protest or ask questions, the Iranian turned to move back to his table and pick his food up again. Then worked his way into a seat closest, but not directly, into the conflict.

Audrey was on the edge of her seat, willing and praying for the two women to win and beat the crap out of asshole of the month and his friends. Maeve and Kiara had started strong, but it was impossible to deny, they were outnumbered and brawls were oftentimes a number game. She cursed silently beneath her breath, waiting for some higher up to break up the fight when a person was deposited at their table.

Kayla looked up from her typing to eye the wheelchair-bound Cade.

Audrey did the same when a terse voice told her to look after a certain someone. As soon as the familiar name was brought up, she tore her eyes away from the escalating fight and focused on Cade. The multiple scars and injuries on his face and arms made her wince, she was so transfixed by the mishmash of injuries, that she didn't even notice Samad leaving for who knows where.

"Oh wow, you look like shit," Audrey hissed.

Following Audrey's not so tactful response, Kayla gave Cade a sympathetic frown.

"I mean, Cade, you okay? What mission were you on? I didn't know you were back here." By then the fight had been forgotten, and Audrey was staring at Cade like a curious cat in search of answers. "When did you get back?"

"Hey, Aud, maybe give him some time to eat a little? He looks really tired."

Kayla's comment made Audrey ease up a little. "Right, your partner said to make you eat?"

Cade looked utterly confused by Samad’s actions. The blond’s head turned about and tried to keep Samad in his eyesight, failing when the Iranian walked away. His hand went to his wheelchair and tried to pull it back. It stopped about a fourth of the way and wouldn’t move anymore, stopped by the brake that Samad locked in place before he left. Cade frowned in frustration then tried to reach his arm back behind him in hopes to unlock the brake, but he only managed to brush it. Pulling back from his attempt, his ears caught Audrey hiss out her comment about him looking like shit.

He froze in place. Cade gradually realized he had completely forgotten where he was and took stock of his surroundings. He appeared to be acting like an idiot in the present of both Audrey and a complete stranger, something that made him painfully aware of how he must look now. Namely with the vivid white patches where new skin was grafted, healed and eventually meld into his own natural color over sun exposure. For now, he had to deal with looking like that novel monster of Victor Frankenstein (which he assumed the author had accidently meet the bloodline once and survived, thus her inspiration for her book).

Feeling both Audrey and her friend’s eyes on him, he gently reached up and touched his left face side. For the first time he felt the crinkling of healing flesh as evidence where the hole had once been. It made the nightmares more real than before. He shuddered and shook the anxiety away for now. Pushing it underneath his more cheerful demeanour, Cade tried to let the fact he had company distract him from the tension filling him after coming close to a near death experience.

Cade, forced to up on his endeavour now, leaned back in his chair and gave her his best reassuring smile when her questions came pouring out. Namely those regarding his condition and the mission.

“I’m fine, really. It looks worst than it really was,” Cade admitted honestly as he answered while he avoided the details, through he had a small suspicion that Audrey wouldn’t let it rest there. Part of him hoped he was wrong rather than right, “We were on a mission in Russia, actually. I had a bad encounter with a Rogue that was into manipulating metal, namely meat hooks, and a sadistic nature. I was a bit of an idiot for not checking my surroundings and walked into a trap. I’ve been back for about five days recovering in the fish tanks.”

Thankfully, before any more questions were asked Audrey's friend interrupted. That’s when he fully realized he must’ve looked very crappy since she commented on him looking tired, a fact that wasn’t too far from the actual truth. When Audrey mentioned his partner, Cade piped up with his name,“Samad Armir, yeah. He’s… character really as you got a glimpse of.”

Cade then frowned a moment when something occurred to him, “I’m surprised he didn’t toss me into the training grounds instead of the cafeteria and try to make me walking able to be honest… he appeared itching to do that really.”

That’s when he heard the crackling shock of his bo staff go off. His head jerked about just to see three of the eight guys go down, Cade groaning at his partner’s casual attitude. Samad flashed him a brief smile as he seemed to wait for something. This caused some concern for the younger asylum as he turned to Audrey and Kayla, “He’s up to something… but I swear, he’s going to give me a heart attack before I get the chance to grow old.”

---

Still juggling Cade’s bo staff, the blood pressure medication, and his plate in one hand, Samad’s purposeful and methodical steps carried him toward the nearest table still intact on the fight’s outskirts. His other hand tapped the tile on his way through as it splashed the water briefly on his detour to avoid it. He did well to keep the medication hidden from sight and under the plate, the only way to know it was there was if someone noticed him take it from Cade. A plan curled into his mind as he recalled the events that lead up to this moment. The hidden clues of how to prevent it or at least placid the most violent of the individuals, but he needed to buy his time.

First, he needed to even the numbers out without getting involved directly or using his alchemy. That was the tricky part.

His free hand continued to grip his cane as he walked farther along, reaching the table where he paused. He set his cane upon the edge and shifted his hand to ‘assist’ his first, his thumb and forefinger already popped the cork off the archaic bottle that Cade preferred compared to modern medical ones. In a well practiced movement, he extended his blade into the glass and let it become soaked into the solution.

Most people would’ve been confused at his request, much like Cade, but Samad had a deep reason why. For a healthy individual, some prescription blood pressure medications could create ‘stroke’ effects. Unless an Asylum had been seen being sliced by a poison tipped weapon, which many didn’t allow it to happen, AMRO rarely checked for foreign substances in the blood system when they put a subject in the fish tank. At least until a victim started to display a reaction and fail. By then, the damage depended on the quickness of the staff and those on duty.

In a positive light, the intended victim be unable to function as well as he once did and AMRO might just cut their losses. At worst, he would live and only experience minor brain damage. Either way, the result would leave a lasting impression unlike Maeve’s crude tactics of beating the individual into a paste. As shown with his own partner, the fish tanks were effective at healing damn nearly anything that wasn’t severed and it was that fact Samad had taken into account when he wanted to put things to an end in the long term.

His blade pulled back, a slight more modern design off of the punch dagger of his ancestors, and once more was hidden in his sleeve. He reached back with his hand and pulled the seat before he lowered into it. Samad pulled a napkin from the table’s dispenser then used it to wipe his cane bottom dry so he wouldn’t trip. While he did that, the smell of salt wafted up to his nostrils and his knowledge of science came rushing from his memories.

Many people believe water was a conduit for electricity but that was completely false. Pure water was a perfect insulator as it didn’t have the ions required for the electrical energy to pass through, like lead and other conductive minerals. Salt water, however, was perfect for his intentions.

A smile curled about Samad’s lips and it was one befitting the Persian Lion of old.

Slowly he placed his cane upright and back while he casually ate, displeased with the lack of parsley in the kabob. For the most part, he acted like he didn’t care or waited for the authorities to come to break it up. In reality, he was waiting for the right moment. That came when Jonathan became involved. Slowly and casually, Samad pulled his partner’s collapsible bo staff then tilted it to the nearest water source on the ground. His eyes locked with both the celtic woman and man that Cade would describe as Real-life Rambo/Commando mix.

‘You both have until the count of three to get clear of the water or you’ll become victims of what I’m about to do. One… two...three...’ Samad warned Maeve and Jonathan, both who seemed to be outnumbered, as his thumb pressed the hidden trigger on Cade’s bo staff.

In moments it extended underneath the table and the tip made contact with the water only a foot from him. He pressed again causing electricity, nearly that of a high voltage taser, to surge and electrify anyone within it. Jonathan and Maeve promptly rushed clear as he held it there until the charge was down to half causing him to promptly retract it. About three Asylums, the two fighting Jonathan and the one confronting Maeve, dropped immediately onto the still buzzing water and out cold. Without a single reaction, Samad retracted the bo staff as he placed the tube at his waist. He continued to eat, flashing Cade a knowing smile, while he waited for the next stage which wouldn’t happen until the authorities broke this mess up.

It didn't take long for things to escalate, in fact it would be prudent to say this brawl reached it's climax in about as much time as it takes to brew a cup of cinnamon tea. Angel couldn't help but be amused as he thought along these lines while sipping the delicious brew crafted by the genius that was the head chief. The taste was splendid and went quite well with the surrounding chaos, screams of agony and anger reverberated across the cafeteria as bodies went flying through aquariums and walls and every now and then the Ante Mortem would have to avoid an incoming shoe and or cutlery.

"Quite resilient, these Banshees." Angel spoke, sharing his observation with his partner.

"Their opponents are weak," Rin replied callously while also pointing towards the others. "And they have help," she commented while observing the actions of Maximilian and his partner as well as Samad.

"Electrocution....not bad," Angel couldn't help but smile at the cunning being employed by the Iranian. "But can you sense it?" He inquired while tilting his head towards the Chrono.

"Mal-intent," she answered while glancing towards the Asylum who was brewing his own devious little plan. "You don't want him to hurt the Asylum?" Rin mumbled as her calculative mind began deducing probable possibilities before suddenly looking back to her partner, only to find he has vanished. "What did you do...." The little Chrono whispered in her usual callous tone as she traced Angel's silhouette in the crowd as it slowly approached the Iranian.

"Enjoying your meal?" The Lost Number spoke in a warm tone as his hand gently placed itself on top of Samad's shoulder. "I would recommend the Filet mignon, just had it a while ago and it was quite exquisite," as Angel attempted conversation he subtly dragged a chair and took a seat beside the Asylum.

"Samad Armir, surviving a shattered link and successfully being re-linked," Angel continued while clapping slowly as if commending the Iranian for such an achievement. "I need you to let the foolish Asylum be, I am not one to pry into the thoughts of others however mal-intent gets loud." As the Reaper spoke, his gaze turned towards the fiendish Asylum and his hand slowly delved into his pocket trousers to yank out a small circular piece of paper enchanted via an alchemic sigil. Without saying a word the Lost Number merely placed the small circular paper against the silver lens of his spectacles and smiled. A smile truly frightening.

"This will be our little secret," with that said Angel merely placed the enchanted paper near the Iranian and left off with but a single telepathic message to bid adieu. "Do not ask what that is." The rest he left to the Iranian if he wished to see through the enchanted makeshift telescope he would see an ethereal silhouette of all those present, a dazzling white in color for all except for the wretched Asylum whose silhouette appeared to be blackening as if a sickness spreading and corrupting it.

"The brawl was a diversion was it not brother?" Rin inquired, while her tone and expressions remained as heartless as ever her eyes appeared to be furious. "What kind of alchemy would be so vulgar that it would require you to mask the presence behind something else? You camouflaged your alchemic drive behind the banshees', you are reckless."

"Is my doting little partner worried about me?" Angel replied, teasing the callous princess as he slowly returned to his own table. Rin on the other hand merely shrugged off her partner's attempts to provoke a reaction and before the Lost Number could tease her any more a sudden explosion had suddenly caught the entire Cafeteria's attention.

"What is the meaning of this?" A loud voice echoed through the Cafeteria as Randoul Aymeri, the noble swordsman, made his way to render punishment onto the fools that would dare interrupt the order of Innocense.The blonde haired, armor cladded Lost Number slowly approached the Banshees and the remaining trouble makers.

"There are strict rules against this kind of foolery and yet you debase yourself by defying them, then I suppose you are all prepared for the consequences." As Randoul chastised the Asylums in front of him, his left hand remained tightly gripped onto the hilt of his sheathed sword. When A.M.R.O's Knight found himself at the perfect position his stance almost instantly changed with his left hand drawing his sword at an inhuman speed resulting in a burst of energy emitting in a form of a crescent shock wave directed towards the perpetrators of this mess.

"Absolutely...divine," Angel muttered and sighed in annoyance while kicking his coffin mere seconds before Randoul could initiate his attack. What happened next was an explosion that toppled half the Cafeteria, however the brunt of the force seemed concentrated towards the Banshees and their opponents who lay bleeding and in critical condition. Maeve on the other hand remained unharmed and as the dust subsided her visage showed her uninjured and standing behind Angel's coffin which had shielded her just in time.

"If it isn't the accursed Crow, I should have known you would be here. Wherever there is chaos the Ante Mortem are sure to be present, I hope this ordeal entertained you...that is all you two want isn't it? Well let me add to that entertainment!" Randoul spoke while calmly walking towards the seated Reaper, the Knight clearly furious that someone had interrupted his justice.

"Calm down boy, why don't we sit down and have some tea and ta-" Before Angel could complete his sentence the furious Knight almost instantly vanished from his position and in a blur of lightning appeared in front of Angel, however unlike before there appeared to be no explosion.

"Your alchemy is energy compression, your compress energy in your enchanted sheathe and release it when you draw," As Angel explained the Knight's ability he also appeared to indirectly show the one folly. Randoul couldn't help but be in sheer disbelief as his eyes slowly looked down to see Angel's boot pressed against the hilt of his blade, preventing a 'full draw' hence negating the decompression processes.

"I guess I shouldn't have held back," with these words Randoul's entire blade appeared to begin glowing however whatever ace he was planning to unveil was quickly cut short by the presence of Terra's paralyzing alchemic drive, resulting in every Asylum returning to obedience and order.

"The Ante Mortem and all the assisting teams are being called to the debriefing room, kindly make your way there now," as Terra spoke these words a team of individuals quickly entered the Cafeteria to carry the injured to the med-bay.

"Well that was exciting!" Angel muttered, feigning excitement while turning around to face the team.

The Chrono on the other hand was seen clinging to Audrey, her eyes glittering in excitement at the chance to meet someone who was as short as her and hence deducing that this person was her 'friend'.

"Rena what are you doing, I thought it was Rin's time?" Angel inquired while staring at the Chrono suspiciously.

"Uuuh she decided to go to sleep!" Rena suddenly replied, her awkward expression a clear depiction that the little one was lying and decided to forcible take control at the opportunity to make a friend. "Can I keep her, can I please?" Rena stared at her partner, trying her best 'puppy-dog' face as she maintained a tight grip on Audrey, clinging to the little Asylum as if she were a teddy bear.

"Rena I have told you this, we can't just keep a human. They are very difficult to care for, who will clean them and give them food and play with them." Realizing his partner would let go, the Reaper decided to use deadly force, resorting to tickle the Chrono. While the entire process took a few minutes of intense torture, Rena finally decided to let go unable to endure the laughter inducing tickles.

"But she is so tiny, I can totally keep her in my drawer and I won't forget to give her food and water!" The Chrono replied, pouting at the fact she was being unable to convince her brother.

"Tell you what, I will think about it. So for now how about you just play with her when Audrey is free?"

"Fiiiiine"

Dorian was punctual as always, his appearance and attire immaculate as ever, even so considering the nature of the sudden short notice. The man sat alone patiently waiting unsociably in the back corner of the room, adjusting his cuffs while musing over the uncivilised antics he had observed earlier in the cafeteria. He hadn't needed to be in the room to feel what was going on.

His dark eyes unapologetically glared over each and every entrant that followed in after him as he intriguingly studied them one by one, although no attempts were made at greetings or social pleasantries.

Before everyone had even finished arriving Dorian was already feeling the all too familiar sense of anxiety and claustrophobia. It made him ponder on the length and purpose of this briefing. As he felt the uncomfortable twist of nerves knotting in his stomach he habitually clasps his hands together and begins loudly cracking his knuckles in rapid succession.
In his mind he began visualising every single sigal that he could possibly need and every negative scenario that could possibly play out.

His mind was never truly at rest, new vibrations feeding new information and resulting in additional calculations as odds and possibilities were forever changing. The more people that surrounded him, the more variables and unknowns he had to consider. Here he was a control freak with very little control.
Despite his internal conflict, his outer demeanour was as cold as ice. He remained cool calm and collected. With an expressionless face he gave away nothing.

So patiently, with good posture, he sat and waited. Pondering on what world of mayhem he was about to be unwillingly dragged into.

Meat hooks. The words were enough to conjure up images of a violent clash, one that ended with Cade looking like he'd been reeled in by a dozen angry fishermen. "Damn, sounds like you and your partner had one hell of a mission. It makes our mission in Alaska sound like a piece of cake, right Kayla?" The wince on her friend's face told her enough, so she continued speaking to Cade without so much as skipping a beat. "Your partner's right though, you should eat something. Nothing a good ol' bowl of mac and cheese can't fix."

Audrey caught Kayla narrowing her eyes at her. Okay, mac and cheese couldn't magically heal Cade's wounds, but the guy had to eat if he wanted to regain his strength and get back to tip top shape. Plus, if she were in his shoes, she was guessing she'd take food over being coddled on any day of the week. "I can grab you something if there's anything else you want to eat - holy shit."

She'd been doing a great job at ignoring the fight, but that flew out the window the moment people started dropping like flies. Audrey didn't quite understand what had happened, but was relieved to see that bone lady and the guy who'd been helping her had managed to leap back and avoid the same fate.

"This isn't going to end well," Kayla muttered.

"Mhm, some people are gonna get their asses kicked, that's for sure. Did you guys see what happened?" Before Audrey could say anything, else a higher up came waltzing in, and with a sweep of his blade, practically sent people crashing through the ground. A shock wave rippled through the cafeteria knocking plates and other objects off their respective tables. Audrey could only stare in horror as her mac and cheese lied spilled and dirtied on the floor.

Things were horrible enough, but to add insult to injury, some Asylum appeared out of nowhere and attached herself to Audrey like some baby koala. "Uh... hey? Do you want anything?" Audrey's first instinct was to prepare herself in case the tiny girl decided she wanted to duke it out or whatever, but Rena only showed sweet intentions and Audrey didn't quite know how to respond. "Kayla? Cade? Is she a friend of yours?"

"...all the assisting teams are being called to the debriefing room, kindly make your way there now."

Audrey let out a loud groan. Getting sent on another mission the day after her return was bad enough, being stuck with a tiny human clinging to her arm was worse.

She was just about to shake her arm free when a voice called out to the girl beside her.

"But she is so tiny, I can totally keep her in my drawer...

Did the kid just call her tiny? Audrey wanted to scream.

Kayla, sending the tension, gave her friend her most soothing smile. "You should get going, Aud."

Audrey responded with a deep breath. She was taller than Rena! She was pretty sure of that! Ignoring Kayla, she leaped to her feet so she could get a better look at their height difference. The result was saddening.

"Aud?" Kayla called out again.

"I'm not little!"

"You're going off topic."

"I'm taller than her!"

Sighing, Kayla turned to Angel and Rena and mustered up a smile. "Sorry about that, she gets a little defensive."

Location: Cafeteria
Time: Before the Meeting

---

Samad had been about to get up, his hand checking his blade, when his action was interrupted by someone coming in behind him. Originally, he had been prepared for someone to drag him into the conflict and on impulse curled his hand about Cade’s bo-staff still hooked to his side. A quick release would be all it took. A male voice asked him a question he least expected as a hand touched his shoulder, causing his figure to gently lower back in a cautious fashion. Samad flinched at the unexpected contact causing him to tense, his hands upon Cade’s bo-staff tightened and about jerked away to extend it right at where he assumed the speaker’s knee cap was.

It was a paranoia that remained with him since his youth and kept him alive. Denying it was like forfeiting his life to the will of fate, something he wasn’t quite ready to do yet. He almost pressed the button when his head turned and caught the image of the fabled Silver Reaper, the Lost Number of Ante Mortem.

For a moment, Samad was caught up in the realization he could be provoking death itself causing him to pause in his action. With heavy effort his hand pried itself from the weapon at his side and rested upon his thigh while the Lost Number casually pulled up a chair beside him. Despite the warmth of the tone, Samad’s expression hadn’t changed save for the glint of surprise in his eyes. With a quick action, his body shifted in place to face the individual as he listened to his name pass through Angel’s lips.

Samad’s jaw tightened at the mention of his recent shattered link and being relinked, uncertain if the clap was mockery or genuine admiration. His pride leaned to the prior purely because of spite over losing Elisa. It was only because of her, and her decision to take all the insanity upon herself, did he end up surviving the whole ordeal. However, it wasn’t without scars. Upon requesting the cause of the fight to be allowed to live, Samad raised an eyebrow and continued to observe the Lost Number’s actions while he placed what appeared to be a plain piece of paper over his glasses. While the display looked authentically silly and childish, the smile sent shivers down Samad’s spine. His primal instincts screamed in his mind over something dark and sinister.

Something he didn’t want to know or experience himself.

As the Lost Number left, his words lingering on Samad’s mind, the Iranian reached for the paper piece then looked through it casually. As expected, the ‘threat’ to his peace had been dealt with in a fashion unexpected. His hand shoved the makeshift ‘telescope’ into his pocket to properly dispose of later then pulled up from his seat before he walked back to Cade’s table in silence.

---

“Yes, it’s not one I’m likely to repeat,” Cade said as he examined what Samad got him, his lips frowned a bit. There wasn’t a single thing he preferred to eat and instead, had food Samad would’ve eaten himself. There two to three minced meat kabobs, seared tomatoes, what looked to be a whole green bean or pepper, a green ball, shredded plant material with cheese, and some shredded white onion on the side. He picked at it a moment while trying to figure out what exactly each dish was. Not a single thing he knew the name of.

Knowing he needed to eat, he cautiously ripped off a piece of the minced meat and tested the taste. It had rosemary, lemon, and a few other spices Cade didn’t recognize off the bat. However, it was decent enough to try a bigger bite as he ate it. At the mention of mac and cheese, he chuckled at her friend’s reaction and smiled. He had been about to say something when she made a generous offer causing him to pause a moment to consider it.

His eyes looked at his plate and that sealed it. Cade had been about to say something when Audrey’s interrupt in the middle of her sentence caught him off. Curious at what caused it, he turned his head and looked over his shoulder to spot three men already down and Samad flash him a mischievous smile.

That explained the reason for the bo staff, but why did Samad need the medication for the blood pressure? The question lingered in his attention and refused to let loss, the rotten sensation swelled in his gut until he could barely stand it.

Cade had agreed with Kayla’s statement, “I agree, I should likely help.”

His hand reached for his wheels and jerked, jiggling them a bit to hopefully disengage the brake. The wheels rattled but held fast in place causing Cade to lean his head back and give a groan of frustration. Inhaling a breath, he looked about to see how he could get untrapped by the table when his peripheral vision spotted trouble. He stopped long enough to watch several individuals, lead by a blond dressed in more arcanic fashions, begin to reprimand them. Cade’s blacken gut feeling tightened when he watched the authority pull his sword and a loud blast echoed through the cafeteria. When the dust cleared, a silver coffin plopped to one side to reveal one of the Banshees untouched by the destruction surrounding her. It seemed someone had literally taken a violent blast of air then unleashed it in one direction at the source.
Cade immediately sought Samad when the eruption of energy rippled from the other side of the cafeteria. After a few wild glances, he found the Iranian sitting still at the original place he had been. Surprisingly, Samad hadn’t moved at all. Instead he seemed distracted by a piece of paper in his hand which he then held between his fingers and raised to his head side. This caused the younger asylum to frown as Samad then idly placed it into his back pocket before he made his way back to their table.



Location: Cafeteria → Debriefing room (Innocence Airship)
Time: Meeting Time

---

"Kayla? Cade? Is she a friend of yours?"

That statement was enough to get Cade’s attention as he shifted back to what he had missed, ripping his attention from the Lost Number arguing with the blond. Curiously, his torso struggled to lean over his wheelchair's armrest and Fastened to Audrey’s arm was a young girl, about fifteen in age, with no intention to let go. Unsure what to say, Cade blurted out the first thing that settled in his head, “I’ve never seen her before, honestly. However, she seems to really like you, Audrey. It’s a bit cute.”

‘Yeah, a Chrono is really cute until she decides you’re annoying and crushes you like a gnat…’ Samad’s voice had a hint of irritation or wariness to it, Cade’s mind unable to determine which. He was also a bit shocked that the words came through without interference. His head snapped over his shoulder to see Samad’s figure standing next to him now.

“You were suppose to eat,” The Iranian’s lips pursed tightly and clearly upset at the lack of food eaten, now spilled all over the floor, “Did you even bother?”

“I managed to get something in my stomach,” Cade answered while he continued to look at the table. Any additional conversation was broken when a message entered their minds.

All assisting teams are being called to the debriefing room, kindly make your way there now.

A subtle fury, from his partner, entered into Cade almost instantly then began to fade. It surprised him into silence at the intensity of it. Gradually, Cade’s head turned to look up at the Iranian who had bent down and began to fiddle with the wheelchair break. It came loose with a soft click. Ignoring the others, he began to pull Cade from the table and moved then both toward the exit with the others. Through the words weren’t there, Cade could still feel Samad’s anger linger there. He was partly glad that their link didn’t connect them like others because Cade was sure Samad felt nothing but disgust or anger directed at him.

In the background, Audrey protested her height against their visiting Chrono’s causing a small, weary smile to cross his lips.



Samad rolled Cade into the nearest empty seat, then tossed the cheetos bag he had picked up along the way and moved toward the small self serve coffee bar. There he quickly filled a styrofoam cup with nothing but black coffee, ignoring the fact his partner hated bitter tasting things. When the last of the dark sludge lingered near the top, the Iranian returned to sit the cup nearby and pointed to the snack food.

“Eat, then drink some of the coffee,” Samad commented bluntly then mentally began to inform Zak of their current status, ‘Meeting was moved up, we’re in briefing room A. There was a scene in the cafeteria which interrupted Cade’s meal, so I got him something to snack on since there wasn’t much time.’

“You know I don’t like it black. Can you get me some sugar and milk?”

“No, you’ll drink it as it is. Now eat.”

“Fine,” Cade admitted defeat as he brought his attention to eating at least. He popped open the cheetos, careful not to let the cheesy snacks spill over the table, then reached into snag a few to munch on while waiting for the meeting to start. The sooner he was on his feet, the better it would get. At least, that’s what Cade kept telling himself.

Maeve leaned shakily against the coffin, muttering quietly to herself in irish. That was close. Way, way to close. She let the rest of her cracked bone armor fall to the ground, breathing in deeply as the bones fell to dust on the floor. "This damn coin better be worth it." She held it up, gleaming in the lights. "It will be." Kiara took the coin and put it in one of her pockets, right next to the one she got. She had quickly leapt to the side of her partner when it looked like she was going to be attacked by Randoul. Partner's stayed together, even if it looked like it was going to hurt. And it would have hurt a lot. Fortunately for the both of them, Angel had intervened before true damage could have been done.

"So long as I keep it away from you and ensure that you don't use it to go on a drunken day long sex spree, that is." Maeve snorted. "I'm offended. It'd be at least two days long, since I'd steal both of them." She leaned against the coffin, sighing. "I forgot how comfortable this thing was. You think Angel would let me sleep on it again?" Kiara chuckled. "No, I don't believe he would. He was quite upset the last time you slept on it." They both glanced up as the intercom called them away. "Well, time to go to work. Hopefully with less getting in massive brawls this time." Maeve frowned, rolling her shoulder. "Where's the fun in that?"

A few minutes later

Maeve and Kiara sat down on one side of the table, eyeing the people that they were supposed to be working with. Kiara sighed. Ante Mortem, icy suit boy, and the Experimental Team. We're going on a suicide mission aren't we? It'll be fine! Maeve's voice broke in, her partner nonchalantly munching on a baloney and cheese sandwhich she had snagged when leaving the cafeteria. If it was really a suicide mission, they would've given us less people. These are two many asylums t just throw away on a death mission. Maybe you're right. I am. But it's still going to be a shit mission. Oh yeah, no doubt.

Kiara looked up, glancing at the gathered people. "So!" She said brightly, attempting to break the silence. "Does anyone know why we're all gathered here, or have any inkling of what the mission is going to be?"