The Messenger was her alias of sorts; what those that dealt with Terry knew her as. She was several things to various people. A dark angel, a crazed demon, a simple envoy at times. It was all dependent on how Terry felt about the person she was delivering the message to. On rare occurrences, she was sent out on very specific tasks, covert operations that could very well change the course of history.
Tasks like these.
As she stalked the very essence of those she hunted, hidden in a coarse but deep darkness conjured by her own armament haki, Sabell frowned at her targets. Dressed in a deep black version of the prison uniform, she could tell he had a weird sense of humor. Xerxes had donned a black suit for his own funeral. Sabell stifled a laughter.
Faster than a lead bullet, Sabell found herself between the four guards escorting Xerxes to his execution and Jackal’s cell. Her curved daggers, lined with a jade green along its blade made two successive motions across Rayne’s chains before she suddenly materialized in front of Jackal’s cell a moment later.
A second after her appearance, the guards escorting him jerked as if being hit with tiny, invisible fist before sinking to the ground. The obsidian texture consuming her form fluctuated like ink, the random splotches on the stone floor alternated sporadically. She giggled as if hearing Rayne’s potential thoughts.
Before gripping the bars on the confinement door, yanking it with a grunt, and dropping it with loud boom on the floor. She gestured for Jackal to leave the cell with quick twitch of her head.
“You. Out of the cell. Now!” she said, turning to face any unknown assailants that could be around.
“You two are free, I suggest you make quick escapes.” * * *
Forsaken was the Warden’s corpse in his chair. The man seemed regardful with his figure turned away from the door and towards the singular, wall-sized window overlooking the snowdrift mountain. His door was closed, locked from the inside. Hopes that no one would intrude for several hours were high.
Meanwhile, the most prominent town on Drum Island was being looked down upon by a wee, flying, gray bunny. A wisp of black smoke raised from one of its red pupil, the animal raised a paw. It looked uncaring and despondent, kinda menacing too, even as it wrinkled it's cute bunny nose at the smell below something intelligent was there. It spotted the Red Hood crew making their way up the mountain before… smirking.
With a wave of its paw, a dozen, dark explosions rocked the town. Buildings splintered to pieces, waves of snow broke apart and slid down the mountain. Calls to the stationed Marines were made and blaring alarms shattered the once peaceful quiet.
The Bunny looked around once more, the black smoke that had begun to billow had almost reached the cuddly animal. Fires raged below, attempting to be smothered out by fur-clothed townsfolk. They screamed for water and more workers. They needed to quell the chaos before the mountain reacted with an avalanche.
The Bunny suddenly looked more animal before screeching as it fell from an impossibly far height.
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