---

As the snakes of flame shot towards her, zig-zagging, Makaya attempted to save herself. She was going to raise her body on a platform of darkness. Before she could, she felt a pair of strong hands wrapping around her sides. She was scooped up and taken out of the line of fire. While she admired the boy for helping her, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed that she had been saved. Forcing herself not to struggle, she stared at the man. He wasn't looking at her, but she had a clear view of his face. Handsome, but now wasn't the time to swoon over him. Before she could say thank you, he had set her down and left. Makaya turned her attention back to the blonde who had done so much damage. It was funny how they were failing to take him out.

Still, Makaya admired the sheer level of Chaos magic flowing through this kid. His mind had evidently been warped by it, and it manifested physically in the fissures along his body. It wounded him with every drop, every bit of essence used, she could see it in the way he screamed. It was melodic, wonderful. Unnatural and lovely. He was no longer human in his extraordinary magical strength, and that called to her. She wanted it, too. No. God, no! What was she thinking? This man was a psycho, and she was, too, for wanting to be anything like that. She really needed to go back in to see Dr. Naroke. At this rate, she'd be pining after killers in a month. It wasn't healthy, but now wasn't the time to think of that. She needed to get back into the fight. Squaring her shoulders, she stared down the man who had tried to go after Karen.

She watched as Starfire approached, attempting to land a solid kick to the man's shoulder. She commended the girl's attempt. She was a talented fighter and would make an even better hero. That being said, it was time to end this. To distract the man, she threw a dagger at his throat. It was clumsy, she wasn't a skilled thrower and these knives weren't meant for that type of fighting. He seemed easily distracted, however, and unless he wanted to die or get stabbed, he'd have to deflect it somehow.

Meanwhile, she called upon the darkness around her. It responded to her almost immediately, dancing and curling around the stage, a tangible force. She hurled it towards the man, eyes aglow with fury. Sharp spikes of darkness launched in his direction, curving around Starfire in a desperate attempt to pierce the target. At the last moment, they turned blunt. She realized how bad it would look to Starfire and her new hooded friend if she ended up killing the guy. So, ten blunted logs of void attempted to hammer down on his body. All the while, Makaya cackled.

January 1st, 7:37 PM
Madison Square Garden, New York

"Jones!" shouted Karen when he approached her, following his lead without hesitation as they fled to the safe room he had prepared in the event of such an attack. "He came out of nowhere...and there was something weird about him. I don't think he was a normal meta human like the last one!"

When they arrived at the safe room, Karen glanced at the guards in concern. "Is everyone alright back there? Did any fans get hurt?"

More than anything, she hated the idea that the people who had attended her show were yet again in danger because of her. Was it wrong for her to keep trying to host concerts if this was going to be the result? Maybe she should just cancel the rest of her tour, for their sake.

Even Sterling Records had to see what a complete disaster it would be if this became a regular occurrence.

January 1st, 7:38 PM
Madison Square Garden, New York

Timothy's eyes widened when the orange skinned monster skated across the arena after being thrown back. How had his attack not caused more damage than that to her? And how could she be so quick? Between the pain that was finally starting to overwhelm him and her speed, he was unable to dodge her kick.

Crying out in pain as it slammed him hard against the stage, his teeth slammed together with enough force to crack several and loosen a few more. His world began to spin, and he clumsily started to push himself back up, only for him to catch the glint of an oncoming dagger. Reflexively raising his hand, it pierced clean through it and spilled his impossibly crimson blood onto the stage.

"GRYAAAH!" he howled in pain, clutching his hand.

But his screaming would not last long. When the blunted tendrils of void slammed into him, his voice cracked and caught in his throat, and his eyes rolled back into his head. His body spasmed sharply, and then, at last, he fell limp onto the stage.

The fight was over.

Slowly, cautiously, the uninjured security guards began to make their way back to the stage. Their weapons were raised, just in case there was any fight left in him.

Tracing his fingers across dusty surfaces, Nello's eyes fixed their gaze on various trinkets spread across the attic as it contained clutter numbering in the infinite space of a hoard. Boxes stood stacked, containing various files, the ink on their white shapes now faded as the documents themselves had grown yellow with age.

Attempting to read what had been printed on their now withered parchment, Nello would soon consider the endeavor a failed prospect. Allowing the files to once more slide into the box, he could deduce that they had nothing to do with what was happening in that building, and neither did the trivial trinkets scattered about. Tables, chairs, and furniture were riddled with spiderwebs, the mere thought of those pincered beasts sending a chill down Nello's spine. Clenching his teeth, the boy gulped and slowly moved across creaking floorboards. Even beneath his miniscule weight, they were beginning to give way, dust flowing through the damp air with every step.

"Makes you think this place is almost normal, eh?" Nocturne spoke, a small chuckle escaping his lips. Though decaying wood was reacting to Nello's presence, it was quick to ignore the demonic spirit's ghostly nature. "So what's the plan? Going to ask the cultists nicely to release the prisoners?"

Turning his attention to Nocturne, where the creature stood amidst dust and darkness, Nello did not appear angry or frustrated. Rather, he seemed unsure, and insecure. Lowering his gaze, the boy gently rested a clawed hand against the doorknob, his sharp, black additions clicking against its rusted, metallic shape. "I can't do it, Nocturne," Nello spoke, a mere whisper as the young teen's hand trembled. He tightened his grip at the knob, the boy's frame tensing. "I..," Nello breathed, shutting his eyes. "I have to be able to do this, my way."

Tilting his head, Nocturne narrowed his glare at the boy, those crimson orbs nearly glowing within the attic shade. "And when that way fails?" Came a question, hitting Nello like an inquisitive fist. Silence lingered, their conversation reaching its conclusion. This was not a venue to discuss philosophy, but in the very same breath, one would need to consider the question. Was it really? Once Nello decided on opening that door, he would be met by a choice, one where morality clashed with efficiency.

Not even this teenager was under any illusion that one could rehabilitate a follower of the Three Horned God with madness seared into their flesh. Then, what was the point in refraining from the decisive blow? Nello had his answer. It was an attempt to justify his decision, yes, but it was an answer, all the same. Nello did not want that blood on his hands, because he wasn't sure that he would be able to live with the consequences of such an ultimate act of supremacy.

He attempted to push the door open, but as was an expected outcome, Nello was met by a locked obstacle. Though gently, he pushed harder, allowing Calamity to appear in his hand once more as he began prying the door's rotted surface from the lock. This managed a successful result, though time consuming, and allowed for the young hero to venture down a set of splintered stairs.

A repetition was required, where it demanded from Nello the same treatment he had afforded the attic door, on yet another, which lead into the interior of this derelict building. Old pictures on cracked walls rowed the length of the hallway where Nello now found himself. As if an attempt to feel safer, he allowed Calamity to give way for Nocturne, preferring the company of this demon rather than the edge of a sword. It exposed the boy's inexperience, and his young age. Fear, it was a clinging emotion which he felt, like any other person, despite his nature as a demon.

Moving behind a wall, Nello lowered himself to a knee as the hero narrowed his eyes at the beings now coming into view on the lower floor. With fingers circling a rod of the railing separating him from a fall, Nello leaned forward. A small, warm breath escaped his lips, his eyes fixed on what used to be an old living room. He could see three monstrous beings speaking to one another, sharing words of prisoners and captives. They were all three sitting around a table, bottles of beer upon its wooden surface, occasionally reaching their lips in delighted sips.

Nello could make out their appearances. They were all relatively young, each one a beast species. The hyena Nello had followed sat amongst them, and they were dressed in ragged hoodies with similar pants. Worn shoes found home on their feet and it was not a stretch to consider the cultists equally ragged. A shower had not blessed them in quite a stretch of time, surely, as Nello's nose took in a sickly stench emanating from their company. "You have the skills to kill them all in an instant," Nocturne commented, his snout close enough to Nello's ear to allow his breath a trickling path down the boy's scales. "Why make this difficult?"

Clenching his fists, Nello raised his hand towards the top of the railing and threw himself over its height. Mere moments later, the hero landed. He smashed into the table, betwixt the three cultists as Nello harnessed the momentum of his fall, the boy's hands smashing two cultist's heads against their table with a loud crack.

In an instant, Nello vaulted over the remaining dweller of darkness amdist this chaotic shock, which he had caused. Again, Nello used his momentum as an advantage, and slammed the cultist against the floor. The three were rendered unconscious. "Hoe-lee shit, son! Damn!" Nocturne burst out laughing, "No killing but severe fucking brain damage is fine!? Woooo boy!"

Before Nello was afforded a chance to respond, two additional cultists made their presence known, as they ran into the room from an opposing hall. "The fuck!?" One of them exclaimed, brandishing a large machete. Gunshots in these acoustics would give away their position, instantly.

"He took them out!" The remaining cultist shouted, drawing an identical weapon. "Kill the little shit!"

"Noct'," Nello frowned, Calamity appearing in his hand.

"Fuck yes, let's start cutting!" Nocturne's voice echoed within Nello's mind as the boy's fingers tightened around his sword.

It was always satisfying to land a kick. Like solving a puzzle, Starfire felt a boost of accomplishment run through her veins. It seemed Clio had moves in store too, and unleasehd an attack on the downed intruder. Starfire dodged back when the tendrils of darkness pummeled the prone man into submission. He stopped moving, knocked unconscious. Starfire dropped her defensive stance through her hands into the air triumphantly. The security began to take him away. This was a good day. The intruder was defeated and the celebrations could continue. A security guard was badly burned but Starfire had already forgotten about that.

"Victory! You did it, Clio!" Accidentally saying her friend's real first name, she ran over to Mayaka and gave her a big hug. Pulling back, she placed both hands on her friends shoulder and smiled. "Your abilities are incredible. I'm glad you went easy on me!" She said genuinely.

She looked over to a man with electricity in his hands. He had powers aswell, it seemed, and Starfire noticed him save Clio. She took a few bouncy steps over to the man. "You are very brave, too. I am Starfire, and this is my friend, Cl...Mayaka." She looked over her shoulder apologetically at Mayaka. She didn't know why she wanted two different names, but Starfire forgot to say the right moniker. Clio when in the apartment, Mayaka anywhere else. Apparently. Remember that. Shaking her head she looked at the electric man.

"What is your name?" She asked Virgil. Much like that day on the rooftop, Starfire had folded her hands behind her back and was rocking back and forth on her heels. The orange-skinned woman was unaware of any potentially urgency remaining in the conflict. It was more than likely that either Virgil or Mayaka could simply leave while she was talking, but Starfire seemed happy to just stay on stage and chat for a little bit despite everything.

---

"You did it, Clio!"

Makaya's eye twitched. Clio? That wasn't right. To put it lightly, Clio was...well, useless. She was lazy, plain, a complete pushover. The list went on and on. She was a host for greater things. It was when she donned the mask that she became someone. She went from being the accountant who was content with hiding away in her apartment, to an outspoken representative of Chaos magic. Clio was inferior, she was nothing in comparison. People didn't like Clio, they tolerated her. It was the way of the world. If she wanted to shine, to stand out, she'd just have to give in. Eventually, she'd realize what her true potential was. And when that happened, there would no longer be a separation between the two personas. She'd be Makaya, completely. What a day that would be!

A sharp spasm of her head and Makaya found herself suppressing a gasp. Not now, not while she was on top of the world! She needed more time, it wasn't right! Another contraction, this one more painful than the last. She pressed a palm against her temple, groaning. Within her, a war that had been waged long ago was being fought. An unsteady agreement between the two parties was ripped to shreds in an instant. Clio exerted her will on her counterpart, in the form of a violent mental thrashing. At last, she took over. Blinking away a glossy coating on her eyes that had shrouded her vision, she began rubbing her temples in an attempt to relieve the pressure. She really needed to start carrying a bottle of Advil.

Considering Makaya's thoughts, she found herself worn down. Was she really useless? No, it wasn't true. Those were the delusional thoughts of a psychopath. Makaya was right about one thing, though. Eventually, one side would have to win. Clio believed she was putting up a valiant fight, but with every inch she took back, she gave five. Each time she used her magic, whether it was in a battle or in the privacy of her home, she was relinquishing the hold on her body. It was a drug, something she couldn't quit cold turkey. She'd have to wean herself off until she was normal. Or, she could just let it win. After all, it wasn't hurting anybody. At least, she didn't think it was. Of course, she had beaten that man within an inch of her life. She had been about to kill him!

She was in a horrible state. Perhaps it would be best if she dealt with this later. Yes, push it down until it was almost nonexistent. Then let it bubble up until it bursts! Clio sighed, promising that she wouldn't let it happen.

As Starfire approached, Clio awkwardly wrapped her arms around the girl. She gave her a gentle pat, forcing a grin at her friend's excitement. As soon as Star left to talk to the boy in the hoodie, Clio's facade dropped. She walked over to Timothy's body, pushing between the armed security guards. Gently, she lifted up his limp hand, not wanting to wake him, she pulled out her dagger with a solid yank. Most of the blood coating it came off, pulled away by his skin. The rest, she wiped on his torso. Taking the blade, she cut a lock of hair off his person and shoved it in her coat pocket, making sure it stayed mostly separate from Starfire's strands.

Squeezing past the guards once more, she shuffled towards the boy who had saved her and Starfire. Unsure of what to say, she scratched at her forearm and stood silent for a few moments. At last, she blurted out, "Thanks for the rescue. You...uh, do this often?"

@Blackstripe@Zoey White@LokiLeo789

---

Virgil finally stopped aerially orbiting around the target when he saw shadows beginning to move of their own accord. Looked like the Voodoo lady was back in the game. Although he was a second too late to stop the knife, seeing that only the hand was the target, he managed to let himself rest a little.

"...EY NEPHEW! I AINT KNOW YOU WAS A HARRY STYLES FAN!”

With the ringing in his ears beginning to fade, that statement from the voice of his uncle made Virgil turn his head. His glance on the man that he shared blood with made him smile albeit wryly. Though Static was no Harry Styles fan, the humor in the phrase eased the tension in him some. Turning his eyes back quickly though, he watched the shadow tentacles seem to finish the job. Static sighed and slowly separated his hands from the ball of lightning to cause it to disipate safely.

The ebony youth looked around as well to see the basketball arena now clearing. He was just thankful that it didn't get any more hectic than this. The whole front seating area was full of monsters and mages that could have made this situation even worse. Karen's message of possible interracial peace was as effective as people said. That was actually really amazing.

Feeling the adrenaline finally wearing off, Virgil exhaled, finally lowering down from levitating. He opened the chair so as to be able to sit on it backwards. Headrest in front, he leaned on it with his elbows in observance. On cue, the security huddled in on the unconscious stalker. The two ladies in question seemed to hug it out and recover from the little scuffle.

Everything was winding down, which meant that Virgil should probably get outta here and find his fam. He pulled downward on the hood of his jacket to give his neck some air. A moment from pulling out his phone to call Sharon's phone, V looked up and took notice of the red haired lady's approach. It wasn't until just now that he noticed that she had green eyes. Despite her clearly inhuman features, she seemed mostly normal; at least beautiful.

"You are very brave, too. I am Starfire, and this is my friend, Cl...Mayaka. What is your name?"

Her compliment made the high-voltage-hero smile a little, more genuinely than earlier. Though he hadn't done anything like this in a few years, it was surprising how quickly it came back to him. Though, that was something to contemplate at another time.

Apparently, the person he was inwardly referring to as the voodoo lady, had a name. Though, one starting with 'Cl' hidden behind 'Mayaka' instead. It made him wonder, with names like 'Starfire' and 'Mayaka', if these two were just rookie vigilantes. They were, after all, almost just as quick to respond to the situation. Regardless of any reservations he had about it, when asked for his name, Virgil merely shrugged.

"Ah, I'm nobody special. But, if we ever meet again, you can call me V." Virgil responded in kind, though, his attention turned to Mayaka as she finally spoke up. Now actually able to look at her more directly, he took note of her, ironically, deadass sexy attire. Definitely an eye opener, but he kept his eyes pushed up to the skull on her face to keep at least kinda modest.

"Thanks for the rescue. You...uh, do this often?"

Virgil's smile shortened in just the slightest and he aimed his eyes toward the ground.

"Old habits die hard, I guess."

Raising his blade, Nello caught the incoming strike of a ruthless cultist. It was quickly joined by another, which forced Nello to maneuver in a matter which allowed for him to deflect his second opponent's attack. Was one present to view this fight, a clashing cascade of steel echoed throughout the interior with every swing biting into the other's bladed length.

Though Nello displayed masterful skill with the sword, each strike expertly deflected, his enemies maintained their footwork with impressive results. Throughout their sword-touched dance, as Nello gracefully slipped between his foes, the boy's eyes landed on a sight which caused him to nearly lose his balance. Brands had been seared into flesh, blatantly visible as fur was robbed from disfigured skin. "Going to stay on the defensive forever, Nello?" An annoyed voice scratched at the back of the boy's mind, moments before he was kicked through a doorway.

It sent Nello to the floor in the entrance hall. He would not stay down for long, however. Rolling to a knee, Nello was quick to deflect a bladed attack heading for him, but felt another cutting through his scales. With a sharp hiss, Nello shot up from the floor, jumping to his feet. Though the wound vanished nearly as quickly as it had arrived, the pain lingered for a fraction longer. "Stop fucking around!" Nocturne exclaimed, "these chumps shouldn't even be able to touch you! Get a grip!"

After yet another savage exchange, whisking blades slashing through air before clashing with a loud clang, Nello leaned against anticipation and managed to counter an incoming blow from a raging cultist. In a fluid motion, the young hero spun and slammed his sword hilt against his enemy's temple.

It was enough to stun the cultist, allowing Nello a strong impact from his fist, which presented itself to the dark dweller's visage. With one enemy remaining, Nello advanced with a calculated step. He waited for the opposing swordsman to strike, where the young demon met the strike and countered with the backside of his sword. Slapping it against the cultist's head, it was as if Nello had struck the opposing force with a baseball bat, ending the threat.

"Alright, enough," Nocturne barked, Calamity vanishing as he came into view, the demon's hands on Nello's collar. Black blood had stained his shirt, and though there was no wound beneath the cut in fabric, it was an injury the boy should never have sustained. "These aren't just muggers or fucking looters, Nello. They want to watch the world burn!"

"Maybe they..," Nello tried, meeting the blood red rubies staring into his very soul. In a way, they truly were. Nocturne shared a soul with the boy, after all.

"Maybe they what?" Nocturne frowned, "maybe they'll change? Maybe they'll learn? Fuck that noise!" A shout met the young hero, before he felt himself shook by Nocturne. "Don't you get it!? If you are going to keep holding back, you are going to get killed!" A finger moved to point at an unconscious cultist on the floor. "And for what!? For that!? They decided their fate, so stop fucking around, and grow up!"

Paralyzed and glued to the spot, Nello tried to form words in response to Nocturne, with little luck. He was left staring into the endless pit of blood that were Nocturne's crimson orbs, the very same eyes meeting them. "Yeah..," the boy managed, finally. "Because if I die, you die," he finished, seeing a shocked expression responding to him.

Silence lingered as if an addition to dust particles slowly flowing through the air, Nocturne's grip on his young hero's collar loosening, until tired hands fell to his side. "Is that what you think?" Nocturne asked, his eyes finally breaking their shared gaze as the demon's attention fell. "That's all you think I care about?"

"It's why you wanted this pact, right?" The boy frowned, attempting to maintain his disposition. No answer came to greet him, however, which prompted Nello to turn towards the basement door. At this point, he had forsaken subtlety in lieu of anger, which his conversation with Nocturne had only fueled. With a strong kick, the boy forced the door from its hinges and revealed a series of stone steps leading into dark depths below.

"It was why I wanted this pact," Nocturne spoke, his voice trickling into Nello's ears as they descended a seemingly endless row of stairs. Torches rowed stone walls, and it felt like they had long since left modern life behind, entirely, the deeper they delved. Some kind of magic or trickery must have been at play here, perhaps a portal, or dimensional doorway. Nothing Nello would understand, at the very least. "It's been over six fucking months," Nocturne continued as the boy set foot on the bottom step, before he was presented by a large stone room.

Cages lined the walls with countless shackles gripping victims tightly. Large torches painted the otherwise gray room a bright orange, and sights which proceeded to curse young Nello's eyes were of a most horrid nature. Upon the floor, one could make out a large pentagram drawn with what could only have been blood. Bodies of what had once been children laid lifeless within its shape, and one would be a fool to expect Blackthorn cages an empty adornment.

Rather, Nello could clearly tell where the dissappeared children had been brought, many of whom could no longer be recognized as such. No, with twisted limbs and bodies warped into misshapen abominations, wide eyes would warrant tears at the realization. It was accompanied by groans of pain and cries of anguish, torturous devices presented as decorations with hapless young victims strapped to their unforgiving embrace.

With his heartbeat quickening, Nello was struck by a stench to match the nightmare he had been presented, as if the atrocities before him painted a picture. As if the suffering of these children had been elevated to an art by the large demon sitting on a stone slab on the opposite side of the torture chamber. It was coated in blood, and drenched by guts, a sacrificial altar.

Trembling, Nello met the sinister gaze of his new enemy, a creature licking its bloodied claws. "Welcome." It stated in a cold, chilling voice, a massive grin mocking their surroundings at its ridges.

"I don't want you to die, because I love you, asshole!" Nocturne shouted, taking the shape of Calamity, in Nello's hand.

January 1st, 7:40 PM
Madison Square Garden, New York

"The situation's clear, ma'am," reported the Guard Captain, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. "One security guard suffered severe burns and is headed to the E.R. for treatment, but there were no fatalities."

Karen's shoulders sank in relief, her entire body sinking into the sofa. She didn't know if she could have handled any of her fans or security being killed on her account. She knew that the guards were there to be protect her, but that didn't mean their lives were expendable. "Please find out where that guard's staying, once he's open to visitors. The very least I can do is check up on him."

Still, they had gotten very lucky tonight.

It was clear to her now that just securing herself wasn't enough, she needed people that could somehow keep the crowd itself under control before things could escalate to the point they had back on that stage.

Pushing off the sofa, she rolled her neck. "So, I'm guessing it's alright to head back out there now?"

"Yes ma'am. The assailant has been detained; we're waiting for the police to escort him into custody."

Nodding gratefully, Karen swept past him and out the door of her safe room. A quartet of guards followed along behind her as she made her way back down the hallway and into the main part of the arena. Unlike last time, it was eerily quiet--most of the crowd had evacuated by this point. Most, but not all.

Reclining some distance away from the stage, she saw Jones, who was the first one she approached. Raising her brows as his relaxed demeanor, she folded her arms. "Chillin' even now, huh?"

She shook her head and glanced to the others near the stage. Approaching them without any fanfare, she offered the group a casual wave and a beaming smile. There were four people of note, aside from the guards--her attacker, the mage woman, the orange-skinned girl, and...the Kilowatt Kid? Wasn't he supposed to be retired? "Seriously, you guys, I owe you all a huge debt of gratitude for everything you did back there! Not only for coming to my defense, but for protecting my fans as well!"

"Like, wow! I'm honestly in awe! Thank you so much!" she said, offering them each a shake of her hand. Her hand lingered slightly longer on KK's, whom was an honest-to-goodness superhero! He wasn't one she had a plushie of, mind you, but still! It was always great to meet a hero in the flesh!

Her eyes then shifted to the man who had now been cuffed by security and had several handguns trained on him. Approaching him in silence, his head immediately snapped up at her approach. His mouth opened, as if he was trying to speak, but only a hoarse croak emerged. She frowned. "Why? Why did you attack me? Did I do something to upset you?"

"K-Karen..." he managed to choke out, only to hunch forward and cough blood up onto the stage. "I...I...they...they told me...m-m-made me this way...I'm...I'm sorry...I l-l-love..."

Tears began to pour down his cheeks, and Karen's expression softened slightly. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, only to notice that he had slipped into unconsciousness. She glanced to the guards.

"Be careful with him. Please make sure he makes it to the hospital in one piece."

"What?" balked one guard indignantly. "After he nearly killed Paul?"

Karen shook her head. "He was thinking clearly, I'm pretty sure."

She turned back to her saviors, smiling in a slightly more subdued manner. "As for you three, I feel I owe you at least a free meal for all you've done. Would you care to join Jones and I for some Chipotle?"

"C'mon, Kid. One more time." Jack ordered, leaning forward slightly on his milk-crate as he did so and at least trying to look a little authoritative as he directed his boy. "Ya almost had it."

The giddy excitement gleaming in the back of his hazel eyes told an entirely different story. Something the object of these commands might have noticed had he not been trying his level best not to avoid his haze while sat on his upturned bucket, hunched over slightly and clutching his dad's guitar in a deathgrip as his face grew redder and redder.

"I, uhh... I dunno, Da-..."

His sputtering did him no favours either, eliciting yet another disorderly chorus of snorts and giggles from the other alley kids that both silenced, and made him shrink even further. Hell, the way he was going, he may well have shrank directly into the cracked concrete below had his dad's hands not abruptly landed on his shoulders to catch him with a gentle squeeze.

Jack spoke again. Voice soothingly warm, despite his abruptness.

"Malcolm. One more time."

A helluva feat for a near-giant with half a Chelsea grin.

Looking up at his old man, Mal could only comply. And started playing again.

WHAP!

---

"GAH!" Mal cried out and shot upright in response to whatever the hell that was that just slapped him in the face.

"Oh, so you are alive."

Instantly, Mal's eyes locked on the familiar figure standing over him in her signature red trenchcoat, scarf and beanie 'modified' (read: haphazardly attacked with scissors) to make room for her horns.

"What the hell, Mog?"

The succubus' eyes narrowed dangerously. That was clearly the wrong response.

"I could ask you the same thing, Dumbass." She all but snarled in response, grabbing him by the collar, hauling him to his feet and aggressively brushing him off "Yesterday, Eddie gets hauled off by a med-coven, thrashing about and foaming at the mouth he's so fucked on red dust, so of course you just fucking run off without a word and now I find you a day later here, with a split lip and a big damned shiner, smelling like shit and passed out in a fucking bus shelter in the middle of a snowstorm!"

At that, Mal blinked the last bits of sleep out of his eyes and took a look around. Finding that, aside from him and irate demon, the only thing surrounding them were four and a half glass panes and a whole fucking lot of blowing snow outside.

Shit, wasn't doing that outside when he stopped for a nap on his way home.

Bludhaven, go figure.

The boy grimaced slightly at that and pushed himself away the worried/angry chaos-realmer so he could lean against the railing and get the rest of his bearings. Even as the succubus in question automatically closed the gap to brush the last bits of ice off of his jacket.

"Alright, alright! I get it, I'm sorry!" The boy finally exclaimed as he lightly pushed the currently aggressively angry-mom-moded demon away and rubbing at the growing welt on his cheek "Just lemme breathe, dammit!"

The red clad woman acquiesced to this, taking a step back. Though she still found it in her to cross her arms and fix the teen with an absolutely withering glare, still clearly mad.

To his credit, Mal had the decency to actually look away at that.

...Well, for a good fifteen seconds, anyway.

"...Did you hit me with your tail?"

"Worked, didn't it?" Mogarra responded with a slight, dismissive shake of her head as she stepped out into the blowing snow. "Now come on, we're going to the shelter."

Mal cocked a brow at that, but picked up his duffel and followed anyway.

"Dare I ask why?"

"Mostly because you really need a fucking shower." Mog replied with a deadpan, and just a tinge of sass. "And also because your Sweetheart is playing in New York tonight and her charity's paying for a free broadcast of it and a fried chicken dinner. You get to be my plus-one."

Mal's eyes narrowed at that as he trudged along behind the demon.

"Sweetheart?"

"Oh, don't give me that." Mog dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I know you boy."

"I do not have a crush on Karen Friggin' Hernandez if that's what you're getting at."

"Oh?" The demon paused for a second, before continuing forward again, a perilous amount of smug working it's way into her voice. "That's funny, because I distinctly remember sneaking you into the last concert she had here. On your birthday, no less."

"I-"

"You were so fucking cute, bundled up and just bouncing where you stood."

"Mog-"

"And then she signed that playing card for you, I swear you were smiling for a week."

"I WAS TWELVE!"

---

Officer Sasha Jericho of the Bludhaven Police was having a bad day.

Though, to be fair, not nearly as bad as the trio of men now laying bloody and mostly-toothless at the mountain-of-a-woman's feet. Though, in all honesty, they could've had it much worse at that moment. They were still alive, after all. Though, if the way the woman was wiping her bloodied hands off on her shirt and unholstering her gun was any indication, that luck was probably not going last much longer.

"I gonna ask you boys one last time..."

The brunette all but spat as she racked her sidearm with purpose.

"Where. Is. My. Son?"

---

Clio was already stringing together an apology in her head for bringing V's mood down when out stepped the star of the show herself, Karen Hernandez. Clio's eyes widened imperceptibly, and she looked back at the criminal they had knocked out only moments ago. Was it really safe for her to be out in the open at this time? Obviously, the man was out cold, but Chaos magic was a finicky thing. He could snap back to life in an instant, even in the condition he was in. Clio didn't say anything, but her body tensed, alert. As Karen approached with a casual demeanor, Clio couldn't help but be somewhat impressed. She had thought the girl would be at least the slightest bit shaken, but this probably happened more often than not.

A small smile formed on her face as Karen complimented them, and thanked them for what they had done. It felt nice to get some gratitude from time-to-time. Of course, there were people on the streets of New York who thanked her for her work, but she knew there were others that were bothered by her skillset. Raising the dead wasn't really the trait of a hero. In the same way Karen was trying to depict monsters and mages in a more positive light, Clio was doing the same for her special brand of magic.

A firm handshake to each of the people in the group and Karen was moving along. Clio took note of how she lingered on V's hand and a small smirk tugged at her lip. That small bit of extra attention could mean a number of things, but she hoped it made him feel better. Clio seemingly paid little mind to Karen's interaction with the crazed fan, but in truth, her neck was craned towards the situation. If something occurred, she'd snap the boy's neck herself. No, she wouldn't. That was cruel. Besides, he wouldn't be of much use to her dead in his state.

"So...think we're going to get some free merch out of this? The stands were bare bones when we got here." Clio chuckled, hoping her joke went over well. She needed to be a bit more spontaneous. It was one of Makaya's greatest traits.

She turned as Karen began to speak, her lips spreading rapidly in a grin as she mentioned free food. Perhaps it wasn't the best gift for Starfire, considering the girl had never eaten before. What better way to start, though, than Chipotle? Clio glanced at her orange-skinned companion, bumping her on the shoulder with her knuckles playfully. "You down to go out?" If Starfire said no, that was fine too. She didn't want to leave the girl stranded on her own, so she'd happily head back to the apartment. As soon as she got back into her civilian clothes...

Speaking of which, what had happened to those? She had ditched them on the floor after she had changed. Looking out past the stage, she saw her outfit, covered in footsteps and torn to shreds. Great. She had really liked those sweats. She could always go back in through the fire escape if they decided to go home, but she wanted to go out to eat so badly. Considering her options, Clio swallowed her pride and stepped a bit closer to Karen.

"Uh...hey, do you think I could...uh, borrow some clothes? I'll give 'em back. Just..." Her eyes wandered over Karen's revealing outfit, and she scratched the back of her head, disturbing her braids. "Something...comfortable?"

Did all this really have to happen now?

Grim was tired, a little buzzed, stressed - and now there was a Green Lantern and a man who's very presence sent alarms through the Iron Fang's armor radiation detection blaring. The man trying to speak just made it worse.

And now radiation man was in the airlock, and the Green Lantern revealed himself as Morgan's son using the familiar abilities of the equally familiar ring.

Scratch that, Grim wasn't buzzed enough.

A sigh rumbled through the helmet of the Iron Fang armor, only heard through the open comms as the vacuum of space swallowed any noise that might've escaped the synthesizer. Finally, Grim stepped back into the airlock and spread his arms in welcome to the two figures, gesturing with curling fingers to Preston to enter. It was hard not to stare at him, after having been allies with his father for so many years. Which was also saying something, considering that the other presence in the airlock seemed to be made of obsidian.

"Close the airlock, Alfred," Once again over comms the message was picked up by the Station's A.I., the door sliding smoothly shut behind Preston. A low hiss then filled the chamber as it was stabilized with the artificial atmosphere inside the Justice Station. Oxygen filled the chamber, and the fake gravity was soon pulling at Grim's weight to keep him grounded. As the last pieces fell into place, Grim gave one more quiet command to the A.I. "Keep it locked."

With the last command, once the airlock had finished its job the doors on either side of the three men didn't budge. However, with the atmosphere once more in place Grim tilted his head towards Preston, deep voice finally able to be heard. "So that's why you're here. And you?" The Gotham Hero nodded to the man seemingly made of radiation before adding on in a deadpan voice, "I'm afraid we're happy with our long distance package."

Just looking at him had warnings heavily coating the visor of her helmet. All the more reason to keep him out of the Justice Station for now.

One would not be mistaken, when claiming that the world felt frozen in time, as if the only sounds making their way through the area were crackling flames on burning torches. The moans of tortured souls were slowly vanishing into distant space as Nello's crimson gaze met the glare which struck at him like the piercing nature of a lance.

Fear, an emotion with the power to overwhelm every other sensation, a yoke which managed to chain Nello to the spot, his trembling hand gripping Calamity for dear life. Nocturne's confession had not been wasted on him, nor had it been lost in the wind. It was what kept Nello from turning on his heel to run from that forsaken chamber of death and agony. 'Because I love you,' a statement which might perhaps be stronger still, than the choking grasp of terror.

Clenching his teeth, Nello attempted to manage a breath, his eyes focused on the demonic entity which sat opposite him, reveling in the gore which coated its seat. "I take it you came here to..," the demon continued, it's voice a combination of sultry charm and blizzard winds. "Make a difference?" Came the question, like a sharpened blade drawn from its sheath.

Nello was left awestruck, his opponent maintaining a demeanor considered calm, relaxed, and by all intents, entirely composed. It was unlike what the boy had expected from followers of the evil God. In opposition to the gruesome picture painted for all to see within the demon's torturous lair, there was a sense of adequate regality upon this creature, a practiced charm which belonged to a seductive vampire.

As if staring at an emissary of The Horned God himself, Nello felt pain echoing throughout his hand, as the boy's claws dug through his scaled skin. A clenched fist which soon loosened to allow Nello's wound to close, black blood dripping onto a stone floor. It glistened in the torch light, as if dark paint reflecting the bright illumination of a light source. "I came to stop you..," Nello uttered, the statement somewhat of a whimper, more so than steadfast determination.

Where Nello expected the monstrous entity he had confronted to laugh, or shout with zealous intent, he was, yet again, struck by surprise. Leaning forth on the stone altar where it was sitting, the demon appeared quite intrigued by this young intruder. "And what is it you seek to stop, little one?"

Lowering his eyes to the floor, taking in the smooth surface with curves occasionally rowing its shape, various answers began circling Nello's mind. Was it not obvious, what he wanted to stop? The world was not always black and white, but in circumstances like these, what else could possibly be presented? The Three Horned God wanted others to anguish beneath his servants. Where shades of gray often warranted their place, this was not one of those times.
"Your tyranny." Nello tried, earning a soft smirk from the creature prompting a philosophically inclined conversation.

"Our tyranny," the demon echoed, slowly nodding his head. "Will you then seek to free your people from the tyranny of humanity, as well?" A clawed hand gently extended, a long talon pointing its length at Nello. "Those who have forsaken chaos in lieu of.., compassion?" He was undoubtedly referring to demons attempting to find another path.

"At least we all have a common enemy," the boy frowned, pointing his sword at the monster, "and humanity doesn't do this!" Nello exclaimed, motioning at the twisted and tortured creatures decorating the demon's chamber.

"No, humanity are more subtle in their pursuits, I admit," a large, clawed foot slid down from the altar as the demon rose to his full height. Clearly towering above the young hero who had ventured into these abyssal depths, the demon managed a height of seven feet. It was an estimation, of course, but an accurate assumption all the same. With a straight back and a glare demanding authority, the demon spoke once more. "You aim to challenge me, then." It was a statement, expressed in the shape of a question.

Bringing his remaining hand to Calamity's hilt, Nello opened his mouth to release a breath. Tension spread through him like a blanket of terror, his head lifting to meet a sinister gaze which knew pain as a close companion, indeed. "Yeah," came a short response from the small hero, his grip on Calamity tightening to stifle the trembling of Nello's hands. He felt Nocturne's presence, within, the one anchor which kept his sanity in order amidst absolute chaos. Yes, an ironic twist, indeed.

"Then, it is only right to present your name," the demon responded. With a swipe of his hand, a large sword appeared in his grip through a torrental burst of flame, the blade emanating the same tyrannical presence as its master. "I am Malfiell, and I will offer you this courtesy, as one demon to another," he continued. "Join us, join our shepherd, our God, and cast aside the shackles you choose to clasp around wrists and ankles alike."

Clenching his teeth, Nello felt his eyes watering at the offer. "I..," he began, a scowl making its way to his features. The blurry coat which acted as a layer over the boy's eyes were not prompted from gratitude, or relief. Rather, thoughts of those Nello had managed to help came to mind, and most of all, the children surrounding him at that very moment. Join Blackthorn? Join his fellow demons, and spread this savagery which groaned in a chorus of agony all around him? Meeting Malfiell's gaze in a manner of challenging intent, Nello finally found his voice. "I'm Nello, and I will never forsake my humanity!"

"Nello..," Nocturne's uttering came as a mere whisper, a sense of pride, if surprise, washing through it.

"I am demon, and human, and I'll stand against everything you freaks throw at us!" Shaking the tears from his eyes, Nello's words left his lips in a scream, a battle cry. "Whatever it takes! I will put an end to you, and your God!"

"Such lofty ideals," Malfiell responded, the ground cracking beneath his feet as the demon charged forth in a vicious dash. "Do you truly believe you, a child, can herald this utopia you so desperately seek?" With a massive swing, Malfiell's sword slammed into the ground where Nello had been standing, only moments before the boy dodged the attack.

Cracked stone splintered and fragmented upon impact, bursting like bullets. Nello would not be deterred. He couldn't be, or this would end with him on one of the countless hooks rowing those walls. "So what if I'm a kid!?" The boy swung Calamity at his overwhelming enemy, a loud clang ringing out as Malfiell caught Calamity's edge against his own sword. "So what if I'm naive!?" The boy continued, unleashing a series of expertly executed swings, each attack clashing with Malfiell's blade in a cacophony of metallic tunes. "I'll throw everything I've got at you!"

"Hmph," Malfiell grunted, "so you will," he finished, in a most unamused manner before a powerful cleave sent Nello tumbling towards a cage where he bashed against metal bars. "The little hero attempts to fulfill his quest by slaying the dragon? That is not the conclusion written for this confrontation, dear Nello."

"I'm..," the teenager clenched his teeth, and rose to his feet, "rewriting the ending!" With a quick, hasty advance, Nello evened the distance between himself and Malfiell, initiating their new exchange. Trained and calculated strikes connected with countless motions, their battle as if a choreographed danced executed upon a starlit stage.

"Delusions are for the weak, Nello," Malfiell barked, a massive wave of fire engulfing his sword with the demon's next attack. Though Nello raised his weapon and managed to prevent Malfiell's molten blade from unseaming him at the shoulders, he was instead struck by the flames. Pushed back, but rolling to his feet in an impressively agile manouver, the boy's shirt faded in a coat of embers. It revealed his white, reflective scales covering a scrawny body, which conjured forth another smirk on Malfiell's lips. "I would have enjoyed taking you under my wing, boy."

With his burns healing, Nello displayed a deep frown, the searing pain he had experienced washed away beneath anger, fury, and adrenaline.
"Tell that to the Horned asshole, when I send you back to him!" Pulling the remnants of his shirt from place, Nello tossed them aside. With horns now clearly visible through a mop of black hair, none would mistake the boy for a mere monster. He was a demon.

Their battle continued, with wounds tearing their way into Nello's body before they healed in an instant. However, with every wound closed, he felt his consciousness fading further. Fatigue was washing over him, and as the teen was disarmed by a powerful swing from an overwhelming opponent, he felt a large hand clasping itself around his throat. It was with no effort that Malfiell lifted Nello from the ground, his fingers crushing the boy's air canal. Gasping, Nello held his hands on Malfiell's arm, tired eyes meeting the larger demon's bored gaze. "You were a worthy opponent, Nello, champion of humanity, herald of a deluded cause."

Raising his sword to impale Nello on its long edge, the teenager conjured forth fragments of his strength, in the form of Calamity. Instantly, he shoved his sword through Malfiell's arm, and heard a loud cry of pain echoing throughout the torturous chamber. As Nello tore the sword free in a vicious motion, he left a massive fissure in Malfiell's appendage. The swordsman was dropped to the floor where he coughed, gasping for air, but felt a foot kicking him in the stomach. "Insect!" Malfiell screamed, his now useless arm falling to his side.

"I'm..," Nello groaned, managing to roll aside as he dodged Malfiell's hellish weapon. Jolting to his feet, Nello slid between the massive demon's legs, and executed a critical swing with his blade. It severed Malfiell's hamstrings, sending the demon to his knees. "Rewriting the ending..," Nello spat.

"Foolish!" Dropping his sword, Malfiell was right in considering it a hindrance in these circumstances. The weapon was too large, and Nello was too close. Rather, he managed to catch Nello's incoming swing, as the demon wrapped his fingers around Calamity. Blood gushed from the appendage, but it was enough to pull Nello into position, where he bashed his forehead against the smaller demon's. With a punch, he forced Nello to the floor, where another would have caved the boy's skull.

Luckily, the young swordsman managed to raise his blade in a desperate attempt, severing Malfiell's hand from place only moments before impact. A relentless foe, Malfiell would not let up, as he lunged forth and pulled Nello into a devastating grapple, nearly crushing the boy's back.

"Nello, no!" Nocturne screamed, feeling the agony of cracking bones with every passing second.

His arms were stuck, his life rapidly leaving the boy as he felt his body breaking beneath Malfiell's strength. Nello could not use Calamity, his hands locked at his sides. With a loud, anguished, and desperate howl, Nello opened his maw, razor sharp teeth on full display, before he sunk them into Malfiell's throat, tearing it out.

Red, hot blood spewed from the demon's gaping wound, coating Nello like a morbid blanket as the teen was dropped to the floor. Limply, Malfiell fell to his back, a trembling young swordsman attempting to cling to consciousness as tears streaked down his cheeks.

He had killed someone.

Leo had just finished restocking his arrows, giving a sigh of relief as he placed the last one in it's container. Looking around the room, he ticked off his duties: Highwayman was as fixed as he could have it right now (but still not driveable), weapons were clean, magazines were full, dishes were done, and now his arrows were back. Things seemed pretty alright. He got up from his workbench and headed over to the fridge, grabbing a Coke. He noticed that there was no milk, and they were running low on Coke, with only 5 bottles left. Sure, they had Pepsi and Dew in cans, but the bottles of Coke just give it an... Authentic feel.

He felt his phone vibrate as well: It was the weapon store, "Wild Bill's Secret Stash" (Or just "Wild Bill's"), telling him his order had arrived and was ready for pickup. Well, that's two things to get him out of the place. Might as well. He grabbed his pack by the door and his jacket hanging above it, putting them both on as he called upstairs.

"Dave! I'm heading out! You need anything?!"

Dave responded in kind, his voice coming from upstairs in a similar manner.

"Not much! Just don't spend all the money, gotta go to a trumpet lesson next week!"

That guy and his damn trumpet.

"Got it! See ya in a bit!"

He exited the door and walked outside, locking it behind him. Then, with a casual stroll, started walking along the sidewalk.

---

Leo was passing through the park on his way. It was a chilly, snow-covered day. He could see all manner of people in the park. It was mostly children playing in the snow, with thier parents close by. Then there was the occasional couple having a snow date. Then, of course, you'd see some people of lower standard drinking out of paper bags or smoking illegal substances out of crudely-made objects. The police were preoccupied with the violent crimes, so the lookout for non-violent ones dropped even further than they did before. The police didn't care about some guy drinking or smoking crack in public while they dealt with anti-meta/meta-rights riots.

Leo didn't care, either. He'd just wish they'd do it away from the kids. But he didn't really want to waste energy on these guys, so he kept walking.

He made it out of the park and into the city center, the commercial district. Wild Bill's was only a few blocks away, and from there he could head to the Grocery Store. But as he looked further down the street, there was a small obstacle up ahead:

Monsters.

He knows that's not the term they prefer, but as he saw the Minotaur, Ghoul, and Goblin walking towards him from the other end of the street, that's the one that came to mind. He felt very uncomfortable in their presence, and moreso the fact that they were getting closer. Taking a deep breath, he casually looks both ways across the street, and crosses it quickly. He tried not paying attention to them while he was walking on the other side, but he managed to catch a glimpse of the Minotaur glaring at him as they passed. Leo kept his eyes forward, and after a few moments, you could see the breath of relief in the air.

He knows they're not bad people, Terrans. He just can't help it.

---

Leo entered the gun store, the door ringing a small bell above it. He seemed to be the only customer. Some commotion came from the back room as a beast of a man, Wild Bill himself, emerged from the back room. He was a hefty man, with a full beard and a mullet, maybe in his late 30's.

"Mr. Cash! Here for your order?"

"You bet I am, Bill. Can you bring it out?"

"Sure, I'll be back in a second."

Bill went to the back room. Looking around, Leo could spot hundreds of guns lining diplay cases against the walls of the small store, and tons of attachments and smaller handguns inside the glass counter. After the Two-Month war, a lot of people who didn't own guns REALLY wanted one. Something to protect them from those things. Now, the same guns are turned against the Terrans...

Wild Bill came back, interrupting Leo's train of thought, holding a flat box. He placed it on the counter.

"Here you are."

"Thanks. Do you mind if I check this first?"

"Go right ahead."

Leo opened the box, inside being gun parts for his rifle project. He listed off some of the parts:

"Mag ejector, check... Safety Switch, check... Trigger mechanism, finally..."

As he searched the box, he took on a confused look, looking under other parts.

"... Where's the firing pin?"

"Well... That's what I wanted to discuss with you."

"What do you mean? Where's the pin?"

"Unfortunately, I couldn't find one to your specifications."

"What do you mean you couldn't find it?! I thought you had connections, you said it wouldn't be a problem!"

"Do you know how hard it is to find individual parts for a .50 cal? Now, if you just wanted to buy the whole damn thing, that'd be different, but you don't have the paperwork and licenses for me to sell it to you."

"Why didn't you just buy a .50, take it apart, and give me the parts to that?"

"Look, I mostly deal in small-to-medium caliber weapons. I don't know how to crack open a goddamn .50 cal! And besides, what am I gonna do with the spare parts?"

"What am I gonna do with a .50 cal rifle that doesn't have a firing pin?! Whack a Demon over the head with it, maybe look over the wastes with the scope and take in the sights?!"

"Look, Leo, I'm sorry, but I don't have a pin for you. I asked everyone, I looked everywhere. This is the best I can do."

Leo paused for a moment, before closing the box. He put it away in his pack. He started backing towards the door, pointing at Bill.

"If you do find one, you tell me."

"You have my word. Be seeing you, Leo."

"You too, Bill."

Leo opened the door, the cold of Hub City hitting him as he did, and stepped back outside, heading to the grocery store a few blocks away.

---

Leo walked back through the park, Coca-Cola 8-pack clinking in his hand. The trip was mostly uneventful, he passed a few other monsters in the street, but he held his nerve and walked normally. His mind rationalized that he could handle one or two at a time if they attacked him. He knew they wouldn't, but he still had the feeling nonetheless.

He heard some shouting in the park: a group of humans arguing with a group of monsters, each side holding thier children behind them. Something something "freaks" from one side. Something something "public park" from the other. The usual. This was going to escalate into another riot, Leo was positive. He could pick up the hate and fear coming from both sides. Both of them came to enjoy the park, but hate and fear had taken control of them.

Leo kept walking.

The police could handle it. They must've gotten pretty skilled at riot control by now, even if the monsters end up a little more beaten. And besides, he was a monster hunter, not a mediator. He'd probably only stall the inevitable. No thanks.

As he left the park, he heard glass shattering. He looked down at the Coke. All still intact. No, the shatter came from the group at the park. Sirens were getting closer, too. Things were gonna get messy. The police probably don't care about who started it.

Leo didn't care, either.

Karen turned when the costumed woman asked to borrow some clothes from her. It certainly wasn't a request she was used to hearing, particularly from somebody that appeared to be a superhero. The woman's costume wasn't familiar to her, unfortunately, and she didn't wish to insult her by revealing that she didn't know of her exploits. Hopefully, she would reveal her name on the way to the restaurant.

"Certainly! Of course, it's no trouble at all!" said Karen, offering her a warm smile. "We seem to be about the same height, so I should have something you can wear."

Her eyes immediately fell upon Jones, whom she could already hear lodging a protest with her. She held her palm up towards him. ”I know what you’re about to say! But she’s one of the people that protected me back there; if she was going to hurt me, she could have done so a lot easier then.”

Jones who had been lounging till now set aside his plate and stood up, a look of plain skepticism maring his face. ”And I appreciate her and everyone’s handling of the situation. That aside though, I got one job and that’s to protect you.” he said, gesturing back and forth between them. ”Now It would go against my better judgment to leave you alone with an unscreened anybody. Ion give a fuck bout her actions out here right now. Not happening”

Karen’s brows knitted sharply, a hand falling to her hip. She frowned, not at all enjoying being bossed around by her own bodyguard. Still, she understood that he was simply concerned for her well-being. ”If you’re worried that much, then follow behind us and wait outside the dressing room. A simple dressing room door is basically nothing to you, right? You could smash through it in a heartbeat!”

Calloused hand entered empty pockets. ”She got powers. I’m fast but I’m unaware of her capabilities. Not an L I’m willing to even consider. Either I’m inside or you give her clothes and she wears it in the bathroom, ya dig?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Karen sighed. ”Fine, you can come inside, but you stay well behind the changing screen! ‘Karen Hernandez’ bodyguard accused of sexual harassment by fan’ doesn’t read too well in the morning papers, ‘ya dig’?”

”Pfft, chill ma, I’m good wit that. I ain’t exactly have the desire to see witch doctor nude anyway. Weird ass.” he sighed. ”And after tonight, I doubt that would make headlines anyway.”

Karen nodded slowly before glancing over her shoulder back towards the others, the heroine in particular.. ”Sorry, about that. If you could follow me, miss?”

Clio felt her face flush, the back of her neck and the tips of her ears turning a bright red. Karen was a sweetheart, truly, but she couldn’t help but feel wrong for asking so much. Especially after her bodyguard chewed her out. Still, going out to Chipotle in her costume wasn’t the classiest move. Shooting a look at Starfire, Clio shrugged and allowed herself to be guided past the stage.

”My change room’s right this way!” she said, gesturing for the woman to follow her down the hallway.

”Thanks a ton,” Clio managed, her words coming out far less prideful than Karen’s. Everybody was so..bubbly. Trying to keep her eyes off Karen, Clio’s gaze wandered over everything but the singer. ”So, uh…” She began, trying to think of something to say. ”How’s your tour been? I’m a big fan, actually.”

Stepping past the doors to the arena, Karen immediately turned when she heard Clio’s question, continuing to walk backwards down the hall as she spoke. ”It’s been...eventful, as you saw! This isn’t the first time somebody has rushed the stage, but it was never quite this bad.”

”I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, though,” said Karen quickly, brushing a dark strand of hair behind her ear. ”it’s been wonderful to be out there on the road, bringing people together! That’s the whole point of Fighting the Hate, after all! To show people we’re more alike than we are different.”

”Of course, but it must get stressful after a while, right? Have you thought about taking a break once the tour is over?” Clio cringed, she didn’t know why she was pressing it. It was likely because she didn’t know how someone could be so positive after facing so many challenges. ”Your fans wouldn’t mind. At least, I know I wouldn’t. We all deserve some time off.” She forced a chuckle, fiddling with the sleeve of her coat.

Karen’s smile faltered ever so slightly as she arrived at the door of her dressing room, slowly turning away from the other woman. Placing her hand on the handle without turning it, she chuckled. ”I can get stressful. Really stressful, I won’t lie.”

”Have you considered upping security?”

Jones snorted in the back.

Turning the handle, Karen pushed open the door and stepped aside for the heroine to enter. ”Extra security could be helpful. I’m starting to worry about what’s going to happen to the tour, truthfully.”

Clio walked inside, taking in the room. It was incredibly spacious for someone who was always on the go, with blue patterned wallpaper and enough seating for three people. She supposed the star’s crew wouldn’t be sitting much, anyways, if they were busy getting Karen ready. One wall was almost completely covered in glimmering records, and Clio found herself getting a bit overwhelmed. She’d never even dreamt of getting to see one of her favorite celebrity’s dressing rooms!

Karen closed the door behind Jones who found himself a seat and had already lit up his roach. ”I’m worried that I’m going to end up doing more harm than good, truthfully. What if somebody is killed? What if the media uses it as an excuse to slander any terran that isn’t human?”

She sighed, shaking her head. Why was she going on like this with a superhero whose name she didn’t even know? She didn’t deserve to be saddled with her problems. ”Sorry, forget it. Let’s get you change!”

Clio didn’t want Karen to stop discussing this with her. It was an interesting conversation, in her mind. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the gall to wave it off and continue. With a slight nod, she walked up to the closet doors. She knew she wasn’t the same size as Karen, but their matching height was a good start. All she really needed was a pair of sweats and a shirt. She wondered if Karen even had something so simple. ”Thanks again…”

”Don’t worry about it!” said Karen, grinning. Stepping over to her closet, she rested her hands on her hips and released a breathy exhale. ”Really, I had to change out of this thing they put me in anyway. There’s no way I’m wearing it to the restaurant.”

Reaching out to push one article of clothing after another down the overburdened closet rod, Karen eventually found what she had been looking for. Removing a black, skintight leather catsuit from the closet, she presented it to the heroine. ”How about this?”

Clio glanced between the catsuit and Karen, an uneasy smile on her lips. She wasn’t being serious, right? ”Uh, I feel like that would look a lot better on you.” She gestured at her body. While she had some semblance of curves, she was nowhere near as shapely.

Karen snorted, and then broke into a fit of laughter, nearly doubling over. Shaking her head, she replaced the catsuit in the closet. ”I was only kidding anyway! That ridiculous thing was what they had me wear in my concert in Augusta. Crazy, right?”

”Now let’s see, you want something comfy, you said? Hmm...how about this?” She withdrew a simple white t-shirt, and then a pair of grey sweatpants just like the ones she had been wearing earlier. Those were certainly comfortable, if really plain. ”If this is a little too bland for you, though, I have some distressed jeans you might like.”

Perfect! This was just her speed. She eagerly took the outfit from Karen, smiling vividly. ”This is it! I don’t wear much else.” Was that the right thing to say to such a fashion icon? Probably not, but it was the truth.

A quick look around, and she found the changing screen. Stepping behind it, she stripped out of her costume and shimmied into the clothing Karen had provided. The sweats were a bit baggy around the waist, just how she liked them. All-in-all, it was the perfect look for her. She popped off her mask, and shook out her braids. Stepping out from behind the curtain, she grinned at Karen. ”Much better, I feel like myself again.”

Karen had busied herself with picking out her own outfit while the heroine had changed. She had decided to go for something casual as well, opting for a grey t-shirt with a pair of howling monkeys on the front, blue distressed jeans, and white tennis shoes. Glancing over at the other woman when she stepped from around the changing screen, Karen flashed her a thumbs up.

”Looking good there! Need a pair of shoes, too?”

Clio glanced down at her shoes, a pair of torn up, off brand tennis shoes. She didn’t have a rune on her boots, so she hadn’t been able to summon them. Waving it off, she shrugged. ”I think I’m okay. Need to buy a new pair next time I go shopping.”

”If you cool wit wearin the ‘Dumpster Fire 5’s’ to Chipotle sure. Couldn’t be me.” Jones huffed from his seat quietly.

Not wanting to let the man see her falter, Clio chuckled at his rough jest. ”They really are pretty bad, huh?” Perhaps it would be best if she worked on her appearance. She had the money for it...but what was the point when she worked from home? Instances like this were few and far between, after all. ”I try not to think about it too much.”

”And you shouldn’t have to,” said Karen, slipping behind the changing screen herself. Rather enthusiastically kicking off the stilettos, she peeled down her jean shorts with a fair amount of effort, breathing a happy sigh of relief when she was at last free of them. Slipping into her much, much more comfortable everyday clothing, she stepped back out into view. ”Honestly, high-end fashion is a huge burden if you’re not really into it. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

”I would!” Jones called.

Clio gave Karen a thumb’s up, staring at the monkeys on her shirt. Interesting choice. She almost wasted time trying to string up a biting insult to throw at Jones, but it wasn’t worth it. People like him were impenetrable. Under her breath, she mumbled, ”Ou ap mande pou yo madichonnen.” Giving her full attention back to Karen, she pointed towards the door. ”Ready for Chipotle?”

“¡Por supuesto, amiga!” said Karen, grinning broadly. ”By the way, since we’re both out of costume now, mind if I ask your name?”

Clio gave Jones a quick side-eye, unsure if she should respond. Then again, she wasn't too cautious about sharing her name. She could take care of herself. "Clio, Clio Delphine...Makaya when I'm in costume." She hadn't used her family name to introduce herself in quite some time. Usually, she didn't want to be associated with the rich family of mages. Of course she loved them, she just didn't want people to assume things about her. Karen probably didn't know anything about them, though.

”It’s nice to meet you, Clio!” said Karen warmly. Glancing between her and Jones, she lightly gestured to the door. ”I guess that’s it for playing dress up. Let’s get back to the others!”

Once again taking the lead, Karen returned to the arena and spread her arms to the rest of her heroes. ”We’re ready! Now, who’s still in the mood for Chipotle?”

January 1st, 10:28 AM (Eastern USA)
Justice Station, Space

The metal figure had invited both Preston and the third presence inside the space station with a curl of a finger. Even as the air lock closed behind them and hissed to re-pressurize the small room, Preston dared not touch the floor. He continued to float.

"Oooh, oh. Ah. Huh."

It wasn't long before Preston became distracted with the coloring and archetecture of the space station. He neared one of the walls and floated along it, his eyes taking in every little detail and mentally comparing it to Vaspasian design. In time, he was floating fully upside down, analyzing the floors and taking in this new scene before him. The Armor didn't have many words for him, and instead decided to focus more on the other variable. Preston didn't really care.

Instead, he spent his time floating and rotating every direction, studying this little hatch in the space station and even the armor and clothing of the two others locked in with him.

The voices echoed in her head.
“My daughter, you will be the bridge between worlds.” “War will come." “You are an Amazon. Never forget.” “I will watch them exhaust you. Drain the life out of you, as you save them over and over." “Mankind has become an honorless, egotistical and bitter little race.” “I will let Man’s world tear you apart.”

“Ron Troupe, Daily Planet. Big fan, big fan, miss Wonder Woman,” the reporter said and brought Diana back to reality.
Someone had mustered the courage to approach her. If there was one thing, she was bad at, it was communicating with the press. And after the world ending disaster that was her last interview, reporters were generally cautious when approaching her.
“Could you tell the people of Metropolis what’s written on that thing?”
He followed up by signalling his cameraman.
Diana looked at the container once again. Without signs or warnings, the thing had simply dug itself up. Through dirt, through the road. In order to know how far down the stone cylinder went, it would seem that one would have to dig around it for a very long time. Standing in the middle of the street, she could only see the top, as only the lid on the container had surfaced. When trouble arrived in Madison Square Garden Diana had remained here, and this was the reason. There was no question this was a relic from her world or older.
“It shall spread until the surface is but teeth,” Diana read out loud from the ancient Greek writing on the thing. “As Uroboros begins, this demon shall be all. And then there is a part that loosely translates to an increase in the reptile population.”
“Uroboros, that’s Egyptian, right? A snake eating its own tail or somethin',” Ron asked.
She rested her hands against the stone-grey relic and something moved inside.
“The Egyptians seem to think so today. The Amazons think that it is a warning so fearsome that the people of Egypt chose to translate it into something more comprehensible. The warning is older than the symbol, and is directed at all nations”
Understandably the capsule had drawn quite a crowd and a few news stations. The atmosphere was thick with distant talk. Citizens seemed excited about the strange phenomenon - a stone cylinder digging itself up through the asphalt road - and seeing Wonder Woman at street level. She realized that even if police had created a perimeter, it was far from enough. What she had assumed to be a simple message from Ares had turned out to be something a lot worse. The timing had Ares' signature written all over it, yet it was no mere message.
“You all have to move,” she said.
The noise from the spectators was too much, her voice didn’t reach through.
“MOVE!”
She accompanied the outcry with drawing her sword and shield, and suddenly people got the message. For once her unnerving persona was an advantage. The taste of success was short-lived though, as she realized she had left her communicator back at Justice Station.
“Hold on, Ron Troupe from the Planet, I have need of your camera and also your cameraman.” she said.

On just about any channel…
Wonder Woman, the Amazonian with a figure few individuals could accomplish, appeared. Her posture was strait as always and her body pumping with vigor.
“Something has appeared. An ancient evil beyond most people’s understanding. Something so foul that legends have had to water it down,” she warned.
Somehow a gentle wind always moved through her hair when she addressed the people of Metropolis. There was always something to make her look larger than life.
She continued. “There is no question that the seal will break, and once it does there will be a fight that is not meant for mortal eyes. And yet it has been forced on us like a plague. I call upon my friends in the Justice League. If you can come, please do so. But I also call upon others: I implore every strong arm and sharp sword to stand with me. Those who can fight do so. Those who cannot … run. If you live in midtown Metropolis, do not hesitate. You take your love ones and go. Do not look back. Run for your life.”
There the warning ended, leaving stations to unravel her words.

Starfire wondered what Chipotle was and then watched silently on, rocking back and forth on her heels, as Clio and the woman named Karen discussed apparel. Clio’s clothes were most likely trampled on and dirty right now as they did not seem to be made of the same stuff as Starfire’s purple outfit.

After a few moments, it was just Starfire and the man named V. Starfired looked at him and smiled, and then tilted her head to one side.

"You say you are not special. Do most people you know have the ability to summon and control lightning?" She asked. Perhaps, Starfire thought, every human or other creature living on this planet had unique and special abilities. So far she had only seen a few with powerful abilities, but perhaps every other human was just shy.

Virgil had by now pulled out his phone. It seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime to go to a little dinner thing with Karen Hernandez, the pop star of the century. That, and the opportunity to maybe fill a void that was left when he and Frieda...well...That wasn’t as important right now. Virgil needed to focus on the situation at hand.

Ricky and Sharon were still out there somewhere. However, it was as he was cycling through the apps on his cellular device, that he realized that Starfire was still there. Some part of him made him think that she’d just follow along when the girls talked about clothes and changing. They kinda traveled in packs to do whatever back in Dakota. Never judge a book by it’s cover, he supposed. He thought about her question.

“Well, I guess not many…” The young man replied sheepishly. He was mostly trying to draw attention away from himself so that he could maybe make a quick escape, though, he didn’t wanna be blunt about it now that the attention was on him.

Starfire tilted her head even more and raised an eyebrow.

"Are there...two hundred lightning wielders?" She asked, guessing an amount she thinks might be right. Where she came from, every single person had the same ability. A natural ability to harness the power of the stars, to live off the stars. Here it seemed quite different. Clio did not seem to live off of shadows, for example.

”Do you need to eat lightning?" She asked another question. Starfire had just been introduced to two other people with strange abilities and it required further investigation. Unfortunately for Virgil he was the only person around.

Virgil kept his eyes on her, narrowing them slightly in observation. He wondered what kind of angle this girl was trying to take with the first question. Two hundred? That was an odd question, though, it sounded like she genuinely didn’t know. She looked like she could pass off as a meta or ‘inhuman’, though, maybe it was something other than that. The second question seemed to confirm his suspicions.

The absurdity of it made him chuckle a little bit.

“No, I, and well humans, eat food for that. I can absorb lightning for a couple different reasons, but, I can generate it by myself.” Virgil explained, going off of his assumption that she simply wasn’t from here. The concept of aliens didn’t seem so strange anymore to him, especially considering his past in the line of hero work. Though, most of the ones he encountered were JL related.

“And, I only know one other person that could do what I can...There might be more, but I guess it isn’t all that common.” Virgil scratched the back of his neck a little.

”Going by your question, though, I can guess that you’re not from around here. Are you?” He asked a little more directly.

Starfire shook her head. "No...I’m from somewhere else." Not trying to be vague or mysterious, the subject of Starfire’s homeworld was a raw and touchy one she didn’t like to talk about, and Virgil might be able to see it on from the mixture of guilt and loss that barely flashed across her face before she got back to the conversation at hand.

"But thank you for telling me these things. My friend Mayaka is also helping me. You’re very good at noticing things, too. " She said. So, lightning powers are rare, and humans eat food. That reminded her of the kebabs she bought for Clio that the seller said was food. Something entirely different!

"Where are you from?" She asked. "Are you from New York?"

Virgil nodded and looked back down at his phone again after she thanked him for the information. As they had been talking, he had been subtle charges to his phone to text Sharon’s phone without his having to look:

‘U OK?’ He texted. What actually surprised him though, was that his phone had the little red circle at the top like it was recording something. Or..-

“Yeah, I’m fine!” A voice came up outta his phone and shook Virgil for a second. Sharon? When did she call? More importantly, when did he answer? He looked back up for a second at Starfire, wondering if she heard that.

”I’m from a place named Dakota City. It’s not too much different from here.” Virgil answered her question in hopes that she didn’t dwell too much on the voice that came from his phone. But that was kinda hard, when it spoke up again.

“Go to Chipotle!!” The voice shouted again.

Starfire nodded and looked down at the shouting box in his hand. It told him to go to Chipotle. That must be a communication device. It was much smaller than the ones Starfire was used too, and could be carried in the palm of his hand. That was a wondrous invention! Immediately, the alien was curious.

"Who are you talking too?" She said, leaning over to get a closer look at the phone. A moment later she straightened her back and looked back at Virgil. She didn’t want to offend him. "Is it private?"

Virgil smiled through a cringe.

“It’s uh…my sister...Just excuse me for a sec will ya?” He asked. With that said, he turned his attention back to his phone.

”What are you even talking about? I don’t remember this being part of your gift-trip to New York.”

“Listen to me. You having to go hero wasn’t in the plans either, but you got the chance to meet Karen! And if you get to know her, I kinda-sorta know her through you. You know what that means? I can rub it all in Tanisha’s fat lip about how my brother got to meet Karen and I got to go to the concert--” Virgil sighed at his little sister’s mile-a-minute pace.

”So, wait, wait, hold up. You mean to tell me, that you’re gonna use me to put down your arch-frenemy? What kind of--”

“Oh my gaaawd V, just do it! I won’t ask you for anything ever again! Please!?” Virgil was quiet for a few seconds, eyeing Starfire for a few as well. He knew the probability to be impossible that she’d never ask him for anything again, but he didn’t want an earful from his dad at home. He caught sight of the ladies and his uncle making their return. Virgil shrugged his shoulders a little bit.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” Virgil gave in. After all, it wasn’t like it’d be something terrible. Plus, he didn’t need to hear his Uncle J try to roast him about not going out with three girls and being engaged to Ricky.

“Yes! Oh, and make sure to take a pic and send it to me. BYE!” And just like that, she hung up. Virgil took off his hat and combed a hand through his dreads. Looks like Chipotle it was. As such, he nodded in greeting when they were all back in a group again.

Starfire was waiting patiently and had wandered a few steps back, trying to not listen to Virgil’s conversation but doing so anyway. It was obvious she was listening, because as soon as Virgil hung up she slowly walked back to where she was before.

Karen and Clio reappeared, Clio with new clothes on that looked much less ornate than her outfit. If everyone was going to the Chipotle, then so was Starfire.

"Yes. Let us go to Chipotle. There we will all get food." Starfire had never had food before and she was eager to try it out. She looked between Virgil, Clio, Karen and Jones. Today was going very well. This concert was much more exciting than she was expecting it to be.

January 1st, 10:28 AM (Eastern USA)
Justice Station, Space

Zeka ignored Grim's weak joke and immediately pressed her to business. "This is the Justice League, yes?" His voice, heavily tinted by a Russian accent, had a distinct sense of artificiality to it, but besides that sounded like a fairly typical adult man. "If I am understanding correctly, your organization's mission is saving the Earth. This may have evaded your notice, but the Earth currently fares quite poorly. I have come to discuss this."

He looked about, briefly glancing at the Green Lantern who was doing... something. Turning back to Grim, he clapped his hand to his forehead in a show of forgetfulness. The gesture made the sharp sound of metal striking metal. "Ah, but where are my manners? I am part of the Joint Institute for Nuclear Research, project code 0302007. My friends call me Zeka." He stuck out his black, glassy hand, offering a handshake.

Beneath the helmet, Zoey's eyebrow twitched.

So this was Morgan's descendent. Half-human if she had to guess, and never been to Earth. Then again that wasn't a surprise considering that the former Emerald Knight had more than just Earth on his plate. He seemed to view the Justice Station as a bit of a toy.

To be fair, Zoey did at times too.

Still, he seemed happy enough just investigating the ... 'oddities' around him, and as such Grim once more focused on the more pressing threat. Besides, she knew what green lanterns were capable of. Even a green horn would be capable of defending himself enough in this confined space. Hopefully.

"Project 0302007." Grim rumbled back thoughtfully. Already there was a small flash of optics behind the lens of the helmet as the A.I. Alfred pulled up everything available in regards to that. It wasn't much - at least, nothing that came from a surface scan of what's available. Probably encrypted and hidden, if it wasn't still on old fashioned paper. Doubtful.

And what a horrid name. Judging by the accent he'd know what it meant, too. Soviets.

"Grim," Well-bred manners won out as the Gotham Hero reached out to grasp the nuclear man's in return, not showing a hint of the caution said hero felt. The Iron Fang armor was still giving off warnings on the level of radiation nearby, but for now it would have to hold off. "Then, Zeka, let us discuss your plan on saving Earth if it was so pressing to come here." Grim tilted his head his head towards the airlock door, where Masquerade and Kraken still lingered.

He was sure Zeka understood not inviting him in.

---

Flashing lights lit up the building, or at least what remained of it, beneath the dense Gotham pollution above. Close to noon and not even a single ray managed to squeeze it's way passed the dense cloud of smog overhead. Such a gloomy place.

Still, it was home, as much as the Commissioner hated it at times.

"I think you're being a bit dramatic," Jaina Jasper, Commissioner of Gotham noted in an incredibly even voice.

"Of course I'm not! This is serious, Commissioner! A metahuman attack in broad daylight, destruction of property - no, an entire building, an attempt on a man's life and another one possibly dead! For all we know this could be another Underground revolution stirring up beneath our very streets!"

The short, blonde pixie-haired woman just hummed non-commitedly to her colleague, allowing the taller man to continue ranting in much the same vein. As much as Jaina enjoyed being an officer, being Commissioner had its own set of problems. For one, she held the position for barely a year and as such was still often scrutinized under a microscope for any mistake. This would likely be another one of the closely regarded incidents, as Gotham took in their new Commissioner's measure.

For another, it meant she had to listen to the pompous rantings of more people than ever before. At least when she was a street cop it was only her superior that she was forced to listen to.

"-And Grim is so preoccupied with the world at large our Gotham has been practically abandoned-"

"Wesfield," Jaina finally interrupted her officer. Despite how disgruntled he obviously was, the older man straightened up at being addressed and nodded that he was listening. "Do you have officers looking around the perimeter?"

"Of course," Wesfield nodded once more, a finger nervously tugging at his moustache. "We secured the scene mere minutes before your arrival, Commissioner. We now have the Meta Squad doing a sweep around the building and inside incase the meta is in hiding. We have the description from one of the victims, an employee of the company owning this building."

"What did he say about the incident?"

"Nothing substantial. They went to remove the girl from the building and she lashed out without provocation."

"I see," Jaina's eyes slid across the scene, to the angry woman in the pinstripe skirt suit. Oh, she was very aware of the company that owned the building, and what 'without provocation' could mean for them. Finally Jaina raised her hand to the radio on her shoulder, clicking it on. "Meta Squad, this is Commissioner Jasper. Come in."

A pause, a crackle.

"Receiving, Commissioner."

"Mark the meta as threat level green. I doubt it's more than a scared squatter."

Another pause, longer this time.

"Copy that, Commissioner."

Around the building the leader of the squad of seven men - mirroring the Justice League's own ranks - let go of his own radio. Every feature was obscured by the dark gear he wore, protection from the metas he sought out. Ahead of his squad was the hole that they were warned was made by the meta during her escape, and their best bet of finding her.

Threat level green, huh?

Hopefully that wasn't the wrong call, or he and his men would pay for it.

"Swap to control," The leader ordered. There wasn't a moment of hesitation before weapons were moved and ammo exchanged. Their deadlier weaponry was no longer in their hands, instead containing the weapons used to contain metas. Expanding sticky bullets, modelled after Grim's own early weaponry of capturing criminals, and enchanted to resist most magic should a mage try to free themself.

It was almost more expensive to capture metas than use deadly force.

"Move in."

---

So this was it.

It was ... homier than expected. Especially for what was obviously once a warehouse. If that was a compliment or not considering its location in The Wedge, even Akasha didn't know. Still, here she was, desperation dripping out of every pore as she bundled the scarf closer to herself. There was a chill in the air this early in the morning, considering they were in the depth of winter.

Still, she knew it wasn't just the temperature that left a cold feeling in her gut.

Dressed to impress, at least with what she had, Akasha made sure she'd have an impression. The cloak hid it mostly due to the location of these Outlaws, but beneath it was the deep burgandy of one of her homeland's dresses, accented in gold. Beneath her dark hair spilling over browned shoulders there were equally gold hoops in her ears, giving off a certain air.

Confidence, money, status.

Definitely things she hadn't lost in the Two-Month War as no more than a teenager.

Lingering out here wasn't going to make anything better though. She had come here with a purpose, and despite its run down appearance, this Consultation Service was rated... decently.

Plus her first choice had turned her down.

Finally, Akasha raised a hand and knocked upon the door of the 'office'.

Jean hadn't moved from her spot for what felt like some time. Eventually, she started to hear sirens that arrived at the scene. Police and other emergency services that arrived at the scene to, undoubtedly, ensure no one comes closer to what was a scene of a crime. Rising her head from her knees, she looked at the collapsed building that was in front of her.

Among the rubble they'll find the stolen goods bag she had, along with the body of the other man. As if things couldn't get any worse.

Moving to stand up slowly, Jean could hear people that were going over what was now a huge pile of rubble. She imagined that pretty soon, they would find her, and then either try to put her down or take her in. For some reason, Jean though the former was the more likely option. And she didn't like the thought one bit. She did have her baton on her person, tucked away in the worn-out jacket pocket she was wearing. Knowing that being found with the baton would be also less than ideal, she looked around the alley, scanning it as fast as she could. Eventually, she found a solution in the shape of a large garbage container, or rather, behind one. She grabbed her folded baton and threw it behind the container, knowing the majority of the people wouldn't look behind those things.

At least, Jean figured they wouldn't have any reason to even look for that, seeing how she never took it out when the two men came and tried to deal with her. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards the street, raised her hands high and began to step forward, until she could spot the first police officers "Please don't shoot! I'm the one you're looking for. I want to help clear things. And you need to try and clear the rubble in the south-east corner of the building, a man is trapped there!" She called out to all of them, hoping it wasn't too late for that man. Even if it meant that afterwards they'll find the bag, Jean didn't care. She wanted to make sure the man was alive first.

A couple of officers would approach slowly, making sure no tricks are being played, before one would reach out and then begin handcuffing her. It was a strange sensation, being caught, but it was for the right reason. At least, she believed it was for the right reason "Please, you have to look for the man. South East corner of the building." Jean said again.