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PRT Headquarters, 8:37AM
June 19, 2021



"Thanks. See you later"

Jen didn't hear her father's response, as she suddenly entered freefall, her momentum carrying her almost weightlessly over the surface of the road. She was already invisible long before she phased through the side of the moving car, had been the entire ride over, a caution she felt was warranted by the fact that she'd been asked to arrive in full costume. It would be rather embarrassing to be outed just because someone caught sight of her inside the car and managed to link her to the driver through one means or another.

And she had no intention of walking that far, so she'd asked her father to casually drive her past the building and simply keep going inconspicuously. She would handle the rest.

The world cast in the watery filter of her power, Jen's feet skipped over the surface of the road, as she slowly bounded to a stop outside the PRT Headquarters, one building away from her destination. All around her, the slightly distorted figures of a large crowd of reporters and journalists gathered and clamored, all of them barraging Director Foster with questions about the new Wards team. Vultures, of course, the entire lot of them. Jen had little love for the press, but unfortunately, they were creatures she now had to contend with and humor, as influential as they were in today's day and age with their gossip rags and rumor mongering, always slavering for the newest, juiciest bit of drama.

Humming to herself, Jen enjoyed a private little smirk, as she sauntered through the crowd intangibly, a ghost amongst their ranks, up to where the Director was standing. Idly checking the time on her Wards phone, Jen chuckled and put it away. Of course, she was well-aware this wasn't the place she was told to meet, but it was a rather convincing little illusion the Director was spinning. Surely, she could spare a moment to help sell it all the better? It would be she and the Director's little secret.

She waited until an awkward lull in the conversation was presented, the result of a particularly insensitive question regarding Confessor's rampage. The mood in the area had palpably dipped and grown somber, not quite able to truly recover even when the Director gave her assuaging rebuttal. On what was supposed to be a momentous day, the reestablishment of the decimated Wards team, such a thing was hardly ideal, right? Surely, this was a situation that deserved a little bit of levity?

Not that Jen particularly cared, but it was Wattson's job now to reassure the public.

It cost her nothing but time, so why not?

The blue-clad Ward, Wattson, slowly faded into existence, a deliberate affection for show, as Jen allowed herself to reappear ever so slightly behind the PRT Director but well within sight of most of the cameras, one finger on her right forearm, pressed against one of the false buttons on her suit, a design choice meant to mislead -at least for now- that her power was Tinker-derived. Grinning unseen behind her full-face mask, Wattson's left hand rose in a silent shushing motion, one finger pressed against the lower half of the smooth expanse of her mask. Her armored bodysuit gleamed, glowing accents further accentuating her chosen cyberpunk aesthetic.

Her left hand lowered to her right wrist again, making a show of pressing the false button again, as she made a half-turn on her heel. She deliberately made her power fade her from sight slightly less quickly than she could have, leaving her time to take a single step towards the deeper reaches of the PRT HQ and shoot the journalists a cheeky, jaunty two-fingered salute, before she faded from detection mid-motion. If all went well, the implication of her heading deeper into the building would further sell the Director's narrative, and the carefree body language of a youth -unworried enough to "prank" their superior- would help further smooth over those proposed "child soldier" concerns. As far as the public was concerned, in this moment at least, Wattson was just another kid having a good time, her fate and happiness safe in the PRT's arms as one of the Wards.

Jen was already gone long before she could observe the results of her actions, bounding away in swift moon hops to her true destination. She was already cutting her timing rather close, and if she wanted to see the results of her little bit of PR wrangling, all she'd need to do is browse the internet later to gauge public perception. For now though, she had a schedule to keep.


Protectorate Headquarters, 8:40AM


The temptation to ignore the security checkpoints with her power, just to make a point and be a little bit petty, was not insignificant, but Jen felt she made the overwhelmingly mature decision by weathering them. As much as she was hardly enthused to be here, there was no sense starting things off on the wrong foot and making her life harder in the future. It cost her nothing but time to do things the right way, and it was just one more way she could better her reputation with her new coworkers in order to grease the wheels of leniency in areas she was far less willing to compromise on.

Besides, protocol existed for a reason. Forgoing it was liable to lower trust between both parties, and it would further compromise the PRT's ability to counter a Stranger in the infinitesimal circumstance that someone wanted to, say, impersonate her. The better she established a pattern that was risky to replicate, the less likely even that small eventuality came to pass. And really, that was just the first of the reasonings Jen was able to throw together for why protocol wasn't an ugly concept in this situation. And the better she justified it to herself, the less it would remain an ongoing source of otherwise unnecessary irritation.

Yes, all was right with the world, and first impressions were important at any new job.

In the end, the whole process didn't even take that much time. First was a highly guarded security gate, nothing a bit of identification with her special access credentials couldn't fix. Past that, she wasn't at too much liberty to admire the expansive architecture of the heavily fortified complex, keeping her pace to a politely swift stride down a long hallway to take an elevator up to a central area on the second floor. A final security check beyond that awaited her, and Wattson dutifully jumped through the required metaphorical hoops, checking the time once more and tucking her phone back away to enter the PRTHQ's central meeting room.


Protectorate Headquarters, 8:44AM


It seemed she was the first to arrive. And fashionably right on time to boot.

"Seems I'm the first," Wattson said as much with a note of humor in her voice, as she raised an unseen brow at the welcome crew: Nightstalker, Axiom and the Protectorate's leader himself, Grandmaster.

She supposed nothing but the best would do for such an occasion, right?

Eyeing the accommodations of the spacious room, Jen briefly considered taking a seat for the wait on the rest of the team, but she decided it would be in somewhat poor taste to leave her hosts standing there looking all official and shit. It would be so stiff and awkward. Stowing her annoyance at the inconvenience of social niceties, Wattson strode up to the lined-up heroes and reached out her right hand with the courteous offer to shake each of theirs in turn.

"Wattson," she introduced herself succinctly and -she gathered- ultimately unnecessarily. "But I'm sure you all knew that, of course. It seems we'll be working together from now on. I'll be in your care." She almost uttered "pleased to meet you", but she preferred not to lie outright. The last thing she was interested in was being here right now, surrounded by other parahumans in stupid costumes, but she'd tolerate it for the time being. Still, again, she reminded herself that it cost her nothing but a bit of irritation to swallow her displeasure and be courteous and professional.

First impressions, Jen, first impressions. You can relax later.

Location: Underground complex, Lab area, Stritzel's Estate, Western Kindeance.



The dried husk of a corpse that Solomon summoned, Veronica decided, was one of his more disturbing ones. It was one thing for the undead to be like Bartholomew, who reveled in battle and bloodshed, for who becoming undead was merely a second chance to keep doing what he loved most. It was one thing to be a vampire or even a lich, who gained as much as they lost in some ways. But it was quite another thing to be "preserved" in a state of eternal suffering. To imagine being eternally dehydrated, eternally thirsty with no way to quench it... The idea gave the vampire the shivers.

But she didn't have the luxury to consider such things right now.

As soon as a path through the flames was opened by a flow of sand, Veronica was sprinting, sending a final nod back at Solomon and Matteo. She hugged the wall as close as she dared, committing all due swiftness, as she ducked past the brawling forms of Bartholomew and the towering, burnt bear. She didn't stop for a moment, not when a thunderous explosion sounded from deeper within the lab -accompanied by the sound of crumbling wood and stone, not when Cedar's ever-bleeding heart compelled him to verbally tussle with Widernia. Veronica didn't have time to address all the bullshit that was happening right now, not in this place. She barely had the energy to be thankful that the burning bear had barreled past them down the other hallway, not willing to question their good fortune at this stage. Hopefully, that had something to do with Cedar...

"Less talking, more moving!" She shouted at Lily and Rose, jerking her head towards Cedar, as she ducked to the side of the antechamber, adjusting her grip on Widernia to heft the mage a bit higher on her back and hold her with one arm under her butt. One hand freed, she reached out to grab the still unconscious guard, slumbering in the barracks, hooking an arm under his stomach to carry his limp form underarm. "We'll have time for bleeding hearts later! The injured come first, so grab him and carry, even if he resists!"

Having secured both her prisoners, Veronica grit her teeth at the extra weight and pushed her muscles just that little bit further, now entering dangerous territory. In order to maintain her leading pace even with this burden, the exertion of her true undead strength was necessary, and she could feel the micro-tears breaking out in her legs with each footfall, even as she darted back the way the group had come, towards the storage room.

Location: Underground complex, Lab area, Stritzel's Estate, Western Kindeance.



"Better get summoning, then," Veronica said to Solomon with a stiff nod, her scythe already shrinking in her grasp. Her eyes narrowed at Widernia, but she still let the mage retake her staff from the vampire's other hand. For a moment, Veronica remained tense, as the cages unlocked. And she didn't quite untense until both Cedar and Varya had made it out of their confinements.

Words of concern stopped before they ever passed her lips. This unfortunately wasn't the time for pleasantries. As long as they could at least move or fight, that would have to be good enough for now. She could spare sympathy after they all got out alive. Instead, she merely nodded at Varya's proposed role. "That will do, thank you."

Her thoughts were flying, as the bellow of ursine rage rippled through the area. Glancing around her, her thoughts first turned to thoughts of fight and then quickly turned to the far more reasonable flight. At this point, they had too many injured, and the longer they stayed here, the more chance her team's lives would be endangered and the mission's entire purpose be undone.

At Widernia's final exhausted taunt, Veronica's eyes narrowed. Tucking her now fully shrunk scythe away, she stepped up to Widernia. "Seems I'll need to carry you. Now's the time for you to focus on pacifying that bear. We'll be moving fast, and I'd hate for my grip to slip due to unexpected... interference." Instead of speaking immediately, however, the redhead mage seemed to ponder for a bit, before reaching to unclasp one of the necklaces around her neck and hold it out, an ivory affair, dangling from silver chains. Veronica eyed the object with suspicion but dared to take it, frowning. "And this does?"

"Something to make your grip firmer." The mage huffed, not even trying to be cheeky anymore. As everyone's attention seemed to be distracted by the sound of pounding and fire burning, Widernia pased again, taking her time to either planning something or calculating her options.

"Can any of you lot channel magic? Hold that ivory and whisper something to calm that... stupid piece of work. He obeys his master's wishes. He always does, and that trinket does just that. He hates me as much as he does to you all, so you must not fail."

"I see," Veronica murmured, regarding the amulet critically, her frown growing, before she finally made a decision. With her bloodlust currently this high an her full remaining concentration required to soon chart a path out of here, she couldn't afford to gamble on how much of her mana this magic item might guzzle. "I'm-" Thirsty. "-low on mana right now." She handed the amulet to Cedar. "Take it. You'll probably make better use of it than I on the move. If you don't have the strength for the task, well... I suppose Solomon could give it a try."

Eying the sister bears, she added. "As for you two, focus on carrying Cedar, so he can work undisturbed. You're the only ones here strong enough to move him and keep pace with the rest of us, I bet." Saying so and stepping into Widernia's personal space, it would be with a bit of initially awkward shimmying that Veronica hoisted the mage into riding on her back, her hands both occupied with firmly clasping the redhead's thighs to keep her secure.

Glancing at the rest of the group, she waited until everyone seemed readied then moved to the corner that led into the burning main room of the lab, eyes squinting at the irritating smoke and heat of the blaze, as she picked out what looked like a safe route along the far wall. All the while, she could see Bartholomew still brawling with the titanic bear, whose injuries were now... simply horrific. "Don't fight the bear unless you absolutely must! We're getting out of here first, making as straight a shot as we can! Cedar, we're counting on you! Solomon, I see a route along the far wall, but can you clear us a safer path?"

Collab with @Letter Bee.



I’ve… had worse.” Qingshe only had time to shoot Marta a confident grin, before the disguised nun catapulted herself high into the sky on an explosive parabolic arc. A chuckle left the Snake’s parched throat, even as she clicked her tongue in mild irritation. The nun had left her shadow far behind in the leap, so Qingshe was going to have to hope that girl and Nil could handle themselves for the short while it took to catch up.

Refocusing her attention on the sky, Qingshe frowned, as a bead of light rose from some point she had looked too late to determine. That same “bead” was now expanding, as it flew higher and higher, gradually forming into a new blazing sun of grand size that obliterated the night with its searing radiance. That same “sun” was now moving to obstruct sight of Ai Chen. Though, its pace seemed to be slightly staggered…

Her frown deepened, as the only response to her attempt at dialogue with the Rooster was answered only by a fresh spray of light arrows now raining down towards the Snake. In response, Qingshe raised her Noble Arm and dropped downwards into her ooze, submerging herself halfway as a partial shield against the attack. The impact made her arms shake, as searing heat stole the moisture from the air around her all over again. Blistering burns erupted across her skin, as her flesh was cooked by the mere proximity, peeling and blackening into fourth degree burns. Her military uniform, meanwhile, simply caught ablaze entirely, burning fabric crumbling to ash under the onslaught. If she didn't have the ability to just ignore pain outright, the experience surely would have sent her into shock and unconsciousness on the spot.

Constructs boiled from her ooze, long-range heat sensors and targeting systems that zeroed in on the speck that was Ai Chen before the slowed sun could pass in front of her. Shortly thereafter, a set of familiar armed missiles -using those same sensors for their marching orders- erupted from the roiling black mass with peals of split air, as Qingshe returned her own two-dozen attacks towards the distant form of the Rooster.

These were the modified missiles she had developed in conjunction with Lotus Squadron in days past, enhanced both technologically and by the machinations of what skill the Snake could offer in Occult Programming Language. The result was a “smart” missile with a trifecta of infrared, visual locks and onboard missile radar, working in tandem to counter various forms of interference -like the light and heat disturbance of Huo Ren’s sun. Loaded with an onboard minor AI, each missile was capable of differentiating targets and had recognition fine enough to snapshot and pursue even a single biological target.

A target like Ai Chen.


Ai Chen screamed as she desperately shot at the cloud of missiles, hoping to prematurely detonate at least two, or four, maybe six at best. She was still very fast, among the fastest of the Zodiac. She can still shoot and has a very long range! She must prevail, she must escape!

She tried to hide behind the Artificial Sun, hoping that its mass would shield her from more missiles. However, only the thermal component of the missiles’ sensors would receive interference -

Huo Ren saved her again, launching a volley of fire sprays at the missiles from his artificial sun, prematurely detonating the ones she had not already hit. He would then message Ai Chen through her radio:

“You owe me the first… interaction with Noel Alonso and Nico Makri for saving your life. As for you, Qingshe, it’s rare that I fight seriously, with optimal tactics. If not for the fact that two superior beings have awoken below in the camp, I’d raze it with this Artificial Sun… But for now, I’ll only consider it.”

And with that, the Artificial Sun rose higher and hotter, before emitting gouts of superheated gas at Qingshe’s position, even as Ai Chen ‘sling-shotted’ around the sphere of fire and tried to flank Qingshe’s left side before letting loose another spray of arrows of light.


Qingshe watched relatively impassively, as what portions of her missile swarm made it through Ai Chen’s defensive volley and encountered Huo Ren’s interference. Searing beams of plasma lanced out from the sun now parked high overhead, and even the attacks that didn’t make direct contact sometimes warped and cooked off the missiles anyway from the sheer heat, filling the otherwise night sky with a cacophony of explosions.

Qingshe’s eyes narrowed, as Huo Ren’s voice entered the airwaves. Yet, for all his boasts of acting efficiently, her lips still twisted into a hidden smirk, drawling in reply, “Fighting me seriously for once? What an honor.” She could only be grateful his priorities were so skewed; otherwise, the rest of Obsidian would be in real trouble. The longer she had the Zodiac’s attention, the more time the rest of the team was free from being terrorized from the sky. “And here I was, thinking this was going to be a boring exchange, filled only with Rooster’s cowardly squawking~. My thanks for making it interesting~.”

-and revealing your position to me.

Tied into the airwaves as she was, Qingshe had little trouble tracking the now open signal back to its source. A little bit backtracking, and… there, atop that mountain. She should have known, but it figured the Dragon would find himself a high place to best observe and target his artillery. Honestly, if Huo Ren were less inclined to boasting, she might have been seriously worried about what to do about him at this stage. Well, maybe that was unfair. Against anyone else, she was sure he could have gotten away with such talk without issue.

Still, now that she had a target…

Qingshe clicked her tongue at the newest set of incoming attacks and dove beneath the flow of her shadow completely moments before her position was consumed by a wave of superheated gas and a shower of light arrows from Ai Chen, lighting up what little night wasn’t extinguished by Huo Ren’s sun with another searing flash of explosion and shower of plasma.

Submerged in her ooze, the wave of attacks passed the Snake by harmlessly, disallowed from passing through the gateway with her. Yet, even so, her vision outside her ooze was rapidly dwindling. The sheer heat sweeping over the top of her ooze now was simply flash-frying and boiling the eyeballs she had sticking out of it. The wave of attacks also quickly laid waste to the majority of the sensors she had sent out to gather targeting data for missiles.

But she didn’t need to see to use data she already had.

Outside the ooze, 10 large gun barrels began to emerge, spread out roughly 100 meters apart wherever there was space and aiming upwards towards the hill where the Dragon was located. Safely beneath the ooze and protected from premature detonation, a number of shells were loaded into the battleship main guns, and after a moment, the deep clunk of readiness sounded out, before the air was split by a combined “broadside” of nearly a dozen 20-inch guns firing at once, sending High-Explosive shells as a return present for the Snake’s former comrade. The force of such guns firing sounded like a cataclysm, shockwaves ripping branches off the surrounding trees and even threatening to shatter windows and glass all the way at the PoW camps.


Atop the hill, watching through a pair of binoculars with a cigarette perched between his lips, Cao Bao did not need to be a genius to understand what was coming the second those long tubes all emerged from the damned Snake’s “shadow”, pointed in a conspicuously unfortunate direction.

Shit!

There was a flicker of movement, utterly inhuman in speed, as the wielder of the Noble Arm, Blueblood, almost seemed to exist in multiple places at once for a brief moment. His hands and Noble Arm flashed out, slapping across multiple pieces of equipment, several of Shen Tu’s “toys” and Shen Tu -just to be doubly sure, before the trio were ripped from their position to as far as Cao Bao’s range could take them, just in time for the impact of Qingshe’s artillery barrage to thunder into the hilltop.

There were a number of eye-searing flashes, and the hilltop simply ceased to exist. It was easy to forget that mere 16-inch battleship guns were credited with the sinking of an island at one point in time. A single hilltop offered precious little resistance to 20-inch shells, and the resulting explosions obliterated the entire area with an impact that shook the sky, utterly annihilating the site in a shower of burning rubble.

Even avoiding the direct impact, the shockwaves rippling out could be felt in Cao Bao’s bones, threatening to rupture eardrums and pulverize internal organs regardless, as he rapidly activated his ability again and again and again, diving low behind the mountain and out of sight in a series of dizzying teleports well out of visual sight of the area the Snake was parked, Shen Tu and Huo in tow. He stayed in flight until his path finally ended atop another semi-adjacent mountain, not as ideal as the last one, but still capable of overlooking the battlefield to some degree.

Heart thundering in his chest, Cao Bao came to a stop with his allies and had to make a serious effort to avoid his knees shaking, as he hissed out a low, “Motherfucker… That was way too close!” Grinding his teeth, his hand tightened around the hilt of his scimitar. “How the fuck did that freak-?” His brow scrunched in concern, before the binoculars he had been holding before reappeared in his free hand. Scooting over to the edge of the hill, Cao Bao lay down and began adjusting the magnification to account for the new location.

He already had some idea how the Snake had tracked them, but he wasn’t sure how much he’d bet on Huo Ren actually following his advice if he said to trash all their communications equipment. For the time being, he’d just keep watch and hope that was a lucky one-off for the Snake. If it happened again, however…? Well, he’d cross the bridge later. In the meantime...

The communications equipment reappeared beside Huo Ren again, once more repaired from the annihilation visited upon them by Qingshe’s counterattack.


Meanwhile, down below, Qingshe re-emerged from her shadow again. This time, however, she was no longer clad as a nondescript Chinese soldier. She had taken advantage of the brief time she spent within her ooze to revert her appearance and don her “battlesuit”, the ebony material of the dress clinging to her yet again unnaturally flawless body. The previous wounds and agonizing burns she had suffered had been wiped away as if they’d never been there, as she flicked her long green hair and smirked up at Ai Chen, ready for round two.


The Artificial Sun was still there, courtesy of Cao Bao’s quick work. Now, Huo Ren patted Shen Tu’s shoulder, an act that did not fail to make the young man uncomfortable, then said, “Your Noble Arm - Use it to bring the communications equipment here to life; make them sapient.”

The bleached-grey haired youth visibly gaped and said, “That makes them capable of having a Noble Arm, especially in these circumstances that force growth and change. Why would you- ?”

In a flash of light, his Noble Arm, a book, appeared out of thin air and screamed at Huo Ren, “There is no way I’d make more children just for you to throw them into the meatgrinder -”

Huo Ren’s response was to take one, two, long strides over to Shen Tu’s position and slap the young Arms Master hard in the face, hard enough to bring him down, and say, “You will. Or should I remind your wielder of the consequences of ingratitude? After all, if Alonso and Makri elude me today, I’m going to need a substitute...”

The implications hung in the air, as chilling as Liu Xie’s icy sword.

Shen Tu pursed his lips, glared at his superior, and said, “If Xing Xiao, my sapient Noble Arm, does not want to bring things to life only to die after a few minutes, she does not have to. As it is, it is only her clemency that prevents me from bringing your toothbrush to life and having it choke your throat.”

“Oh, good fucking grief,” Cao Bao grumbled, shooting a glare over his shoulder, the orange glow of his burning cigarette part of what little light they had out here. “I’m sure it has something to do with keeping us alive.” He shot a look of annoyance the Dragon’s way as if asking for confirmation. While he didn’t particularly “jive” with the implications of Huo Ren’s threat, he was well-practiced with evading his superior’s fury. “Just make your little toys and be done with it. If you don’t, the fucking Snake is going to kill you as much as any of us, and I’d remind you again, your life is inherently more valuable than your… children.” There was a note of dubiousness in his tone, as he shrugged his shoulders. “There’s only one you, and you can always make more of them later. So, control your damn book.” He turned back to observing the distant battle, seemingly having said all he cared to on the matter.

Shen Tu nodded and said, “Xing Xiao, give the communications rig maximum sapience; this will allow it not just to automate itself - Not that it won’t work as normal and allow Qingshe to detect the radio waves anyway - but also allow it to grow its own Noble Arm if it can get sufficient development through whatever Qinghse will do to it.”

Then in a barely audible whisper, he said to his book, “Besides, her taking it for experiments is better than letting it stay with us.”

The Book-shaped Noble Arm fluttered its pages in response and said, “All right, that works!”

Fifteen seconds later, the communications console flickered to life, saying, “What am I? What am I here for? …Oh. I’m to be cannon fodder. Literally.”

With a few pushes of its buttons and twists of its knobs, the comms console began giving a situation report using speakers that should not have worked without electricity, saying, “The target has disappeared, but there are approximately 10 guns, spaced 100 meters apart, on various hills - Coordinates are…”

With each coordinate, the Artificial Sun sent out a gout of superheated hydrogen enough to turn the hillside into molten *glass*, until all ten locations were hit, and Qingshe’s oozed with them. The now-sapient console then spoke, “I also detect several items of… Qingshe-tech on the Mekong Riverbank. They seem to be comms beacons?”

Huo Ren asked, “Are they beyond your ability to hack?”

“Sir,” was the sapient object’s response, “I am limited by my body’s physical capabilities unless I grow enough in whatever metric qualifies me to grow my own Noble Arm -”

Huo Ren turned to Cao Bao and said, “Cao, prepare to teleport us away and leave this sapient appliance behind. But first…”

He then went and forcefully handled the sapient communication console’s buttons and knobs and said, “Hey Qingshe, you missed! Also, here’s a creativity test: What happens if I pick a populated area for my next viewing spot?”

Then he gestured to Cao to teleport them away… Towards Jinghong City itself.


It seemed the Dragon had survived and found himself a new spot to target from, Qingshe noted with mild irritation. A shame. She nonetheless plastered on an unperturbed smile, as Huo Ren’s sun struck again and again, reducing her naval guns to melted slag under the onslaught. Her ooze was, of course, completely unaffected by the attacks, which were unable to disturb her power’s “footing” since it was only striking from above.

Even so, despite the exchange being relatively short, it had set the surrounding forest on fire, many trees and other flora either burning or reduced to ash, and what wasn’t already burning was likely only a matter of time. Perhaps she should… The heads of fire hoses began to emerge Qingshe’s shadows, ejecting a powerful spray of cold water into the forest, aiming to at least douse the worst of things before this evolved into a full-on forest fire.

Qingshe resisted the urge to grind her teeth at Huo Ren’s banal taunt, not rising to the bait to attack, as she responded with, “Running away again? You’ll never get a proper lover if you keep standing your dates up~!” Her cheeky grin faded, however, when no response came.

Had he wised up? Possible. And the last thing he said was worrying. A “populated area”? What did he mean by that? He… wouldn’t attack the city, would he…? No, something like that, for no military gain? Even Huo Ren couldn’t get away with that. He was just using the populace as meat shields against her retaliation then. That was mildly frustrating, she had to internally admit. On one side, Ai Chen. On the other, hunting Huo Ren.

Why not both? a traitorous little part of her brain suggested.

But no, she had the mission and her team to worry about right now. Grudge matches could come later… Or well, grudge matches that would be out of her way to pursue. If Ren was going to flee all the way to Jinghong City -the nearest large populace he could be referring to, then he’d be out of the fight regardless. Tactically speaking, this was still a victory, a powerful opponent removed from the board… however temporarily, no longer a threat to those on her team that couldn’t endure his firepower with similar success. If she could just do something about his sun, he wouldn’t be able to replace it unless he dared to come crawling back. And in the meantime…

Golden eyes gleaming, Qingshe’s lips split into what some might have called a fairly evil grin.

She could devote all her attention to the once more isolated Ai Chen.


Location: Underground complex, Lab area, Stritzel's Estate, Western Kindeance.



As Solomon slipped into the area in a shadowy flicker and soon knelt down beside Widernia to perform his work, Veronica quickly got out of his way and relinquished her role as the redheaded mage's lungs, her gaze a little glazed from the endeavor, as she idly licked the blood clean from her hands, tongue darting out to captured any crimson flecks on her lips. She wouldn't even pretend to lie to herself and say it was for cleanliness purposes, as she finished and redonned her gloves with newly pristine pale hands. She was hungry, but though what she had just imbibed was merely a drop in the bucket of her overall reserves, not even fit to be an appetizer, it helped take a smidge of the edge off.

She was holding her breath again to shut out the worst of the still omnipresent scent of freshly spilled blood, as she quickly collected her medical kit and sealed the remains of the healing potion back up, putting both back in her backpack and slinging the latter back over her shoulders. Those same shoulders sagged in a bit of relief at Solomon's positive prognosis, as the vampire leaned down to scoop up her scythe again, along with the mage's staff. With this treatment, Widernia would live... for now, just as long as nothing made things worse.

Veronica's eyes narrowed at the mage's words, her mouth opening to respond, before she paused, eyes widening.

It took her only a few wide strides to reach the corner leading to the larger area of the lab, and the sight beyond made her eyes widen in horror, as precious research and evidence burned merrily from a fire that had not been there only a minute ago and was currently blazing a long trail across the floor, consuming a bookshelf and horrifically tormenting the large bear that was most likely a victim in all this. Veronica allowed herself to breath again for but a moment and recoiled at the thick, acrid smell of chemicals and smoke, along with the stench of burning flesh and hair, and she could only blame her prior ignorance on her bloodlust and focus on her medical task.

"Wha-? Who?!" Her lips twisted into a snarl, as she determined exactly who through process of elimination. Solomon would never have done something as mad as set a chemical fire in an unknown mage's lab, which meant it had to be those two bears! Turning on her heel, a furious growl escaped the vampire's throat, as she strode back over to Widernia, mind whirling. Because suddenly, they were on a fucking time limit, and she didn't have time to address the fools responsible or do anything else for that matter with the time and care they deserved! The only ones here who could survive suffocation and toxic fumes were herself and Solomon. Everyone else, friend, foe and the very one they'd come to rescue alike would perish, and soon.

"Careful," she said dangerously to the redheaded mage, her body stilled like a coiled snake, "your continued survival is dependent on your adherence to our little deal, no matter how impromptu. As for what we'll do if you don't?" Her gaze tracked to the darkly swaddled man beside her, as her expression hardened. "Sometimes, it's nice being friends with a necromancer." Slitted crimson eyes returned to boring down at Widernia, a promise of violence in them from someone that didn't have the luxury to be patient. The mission and the lives of her team came first. "You will aid us in life or in death. In only one of these cases, however... shall you do so willingly."

"Thanks to those fools, we don't have time to entertain dissent," she hissed out. Her grip tightened on the shaft of her polearm, and if her knuckles weren't already so pale, they would have whitened considerably beneath her glove. "We will try to save this lab and as much of its contents as possible, but we have to prioritize lives first!" she barked. "The longer you waste our time, the less chance that anything will remain!"

Her gaze snapped to Solomon. "Please tell me you can someone you can call that can handle that mess back there?" Her lips twisted into a grimace. "Because if it spreads much further, we won't be able to go back the way we came." She jerked her head towards the yet unexplored tunnel. "That must be the escape route. I don't know how far it goes or how long it'll take us to rejoin with the others, but it's going to be our only option soon. We can't take our injured through that inferno."

Location: Underground complex, Lab area, Stritzel's Estate, Western Kindeance.



Upon receiving the mage's assent, Veronica was on her knees beside her in a single, swift movement. Her scythe was cast aside, still within easy arm's reach, but safely away from the growing pool of blood around Widernia. She didn't want her weapon feeding upon that right now, as they -specifically Solomon- might be able to do something with it later... preferably return it to its owner. She idly also reached out to grab Widernia's staff and toss it a little further than her scythe away.

"SOLOMON! I NEED YOUR EXERPTISE RIGHT NOW!" she bellowed back into the greater lab, her voice reverberating in an echoing boom, before refocusing on her task. She was already holding breath to stave off the worst of her olfactory senses inciting her bloodlust, as she yanked her gloves off and dropped her backpack to the ground, reaching inside to yank out her medical kit. Yet, as she did so, her hands brushed up against something that she'd forgotten she was carrying.

The potion! This could-! Well, maybe it won't be necessary?

She'd been hoping to save it for Cedar...

The vampire swiftly moved to inspect the mage's wound, however, and grimaced. This amount of bloodloss... major arteries had to have been cut. She didn't think she had the mundane tools or expertise to handle that fast enough to matter, but there was something far more pressing at hand. Keen eyes and a harried inspection of holding one hand briefly before Widernia's mouth told her something that would be lethal far sooner: she wasn't breathing.

Oh, fuck my life.

But after a moment of panicked thought, Veronica wasted no time, knowing approximately what she should do.

Clicking her tongue, she withdrew the skin stitch potion and uncorked it. "Fair warning," she drawled, setting her medical kit aside and pulling out a biting stick, which she offered the mage's mouth, "this is going to hurt like a motherfucker." Making sure to pull any potential intervening fabric away from the wound with her free hand, Veronica dribbled a healthy splash of the potion over the areas in the torso she recalled the major arteries were located, and she would keep dribbling until it looked like the only wounds remaining were surface-level. She made an attempt to conserve as much of the potion as possible, leaving any wounds that could be dealt with seemingly with a bit of bandaging. If anything else was wrong, she doubted anyone here but Solomon could detect it.

Once that was dealt with, it was time to address the other major issue.

The vampire scooted over, inhaling a deep breath and nearly staggering at the incredible scent that flooded her lungs, as she held her breath again. Grabbing Widernia's head, she pinched her nose closed with one hand and opened her mouth, firmly sealing her own lips over hers and beginning to exhale. For the vampire, whose lungs did not absorb oxygen, this would hopefully be even better than regular mouth-to-mouth, as her exchanged breathe wouldn't be diluted by carbon dioxide. She kept a careful eye on the mage's chest, one hand reaching down to physically inspect her sternum and feel it swell from the influx of vital air.

Once she got the feeling it was reaching the limits of what the mage's lungs could safely take, Veronica released her liplock, before moving to push her hands down atop Widernia's sternum, giving it several pumps to force the air back out of her lungs. All the while, the sucked in a new deep breathe, vision swimming from yet another bout of bloodlust, before leaning down to breathe back into Widernia's lungs again. This she would do on repeat until Solomon gave her any particular reason to stop, doing her best to act as Widernia's lungs until Solomon could do something about it or until her ministrations hopefully miraculously kickstarted something critical again.

Location: Underground complex, Lab area, Stritzel's Estate, Western Kindeance.



Her opponent was to be praised for her reaction time. Despite being a pure mage and the assassin having the drop on her, she still had something up her sleeve. Veronica's blow was blocked by some form of magical shield, and a crackling ring of lightning thundered into flesh and-

How about not.

Veronica pulled out of the precognitive vision, as her body entered that familiar, watery-feeling state, internally clicking her tongue in annoyance at her kick being dodged but still committing. Just as her vision predicted, something triggered from her attack. But under her protective magic, she sluiced through it effortlessly, her scythe landing a grievous glow across the redheaded woman's chest. Blood sprayed, and Chigestu greedily slurped it up with its passage.

There was a scream, and Veronica flinched inwardly, as a retaliatory flash of lightning to the face threatened to put spots in her vision. Her protective spell warded her against actual damage, but it wasn't like it did anything for having her vision outright physically obstructed by tongues of lightning blasting her head-on. Veronica's intended follow up attack staggered under the onslaught, briefly blinded by the attack, and her stomach lurched, the scent of fresh blood suddenly flooding into her nostrils to join the chorus of the thick ambiance that she'd been doing her best to ignore all this time.

Veronica shook her head, trying to clear the crimson tint from her senses, the urge to feed right here and now. It had been sneaking up on her, but she hadn't made a fuss, had powered forward for the mission's sake... But she'd not gotten a full meal in over a week. Even before the scouting team had met back up with Jazdia, she'd been using her magic, and she'd continued to use her magic even more all throughout this mission, her reserves of blood slowly but surely draining. And now, her appetite was very much whet.

It was for that reason that Veronica almost had to physically bite and tear into her own lip to stop herself from jumping Widernia while the mage was down, as the tantalizing scent of mana-rich life essence sucker-punched her senses in the face. She had to stop herself from swinging her scythe back around to finish the job, as Widernia's magic unleashed crawling lightning across practically every surface of the prison area. The vampire forced herself to focus her senses on something -anything- else in that moment, and the act managed to drag her back down to earth.

The sounds of screams and bellows of rage thundered against her eardrums from outside the cell-block, the scent of burning hair and flesh accompanying it. In the corner of her vision, she caught sight of a horrifically familiar creature, secured in a cell with a collection of lines and tubes sticking out of him. The scent of filth and blood that was so old even her vampiric instincts quailed was so rancid that she had to tense her muscles to drown out the fresh wave of unmitigated fury that swelled inside her towards this piece of shit. And now, the bear's suffering was being further added to by the crawling tongues of lightning that swelled out from Widernia's position to electrocute both the bear and the similarly trapped Varya alike.

Teeth clenching in a snarl that might have cracked something if she bit down harder, Veronica adjusted the grip on her scythe, flipping it around in her grip with a flick of her wrist, and jabbed the opposite end -the spearhead- down at the mage, before another thought made her strike abort before contact. She stood there, frozen in indecision and realization, as her rational mind clawed up from the depths to reassert itself over her vampiric instincts. She looked at the magical ward that was keeping Varya trapped, then back at the injured mage, who was bleeding enough that the vampire knew she likely needed immediate medical care... She mulled over little tidbits she'd observed and her mission objectives, and...

And...

Gaze refocusing more properly through the haze of hunger, Veronica shoved down the urge to fall upon this extraordinarily acceptable target in a feeding frenzy, because... she was more than that, right? The was the whole reason she was here and now, serving her King and her country, because she wasn't just a rabid beast, a mad killing dog to be pointed in one direction and set off her leash. She had to believe that. And because of that... no matter how much she wanted to kill Widernia for what she did to Cedar... no matter how much she wanted to drain her dry...

"One chance," the vampire enunciated clearly towards Widernia, her voice a cold whisper, as she stood on the electrified floor untouched by the crawling tongues of lightning. "I heard you use some sort of magical command on that bear. He's a victim, isn't he? You can control him. So..." Her grip tightened on the shaft of her polearm. "Use that control to make him stand down, agree to free those imprisoned here by your magic, and we'll spare your life. The darkly clad man in the other room, fighting your bear?" She jerked her head to the side. "He's the best doctor I've ever known, and he'll save you, no matter how badly you're injured."

Briefly closing her eyes, Veronica sucked in a calming breath and almost flinched at the fresh swell of blood that battered her senses, her body stilling like a statue, before her eyes reopened, reasoning restored... for the time being. "For whatever it means to you, I make this guarantee on my life and honor. You will be treated humanely, according to due process and the law of the land, and I will defend your life to the best of my ability, even from my own comrades, for as long as you remain in my custody." She let the pause hang long, as she dared to raise her spearpoint slightly upwards, away from the injured mage. "If you are having trouble speaking, a nod will suffice... Deal?"
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