Selling the Family Silver [Derp Squad]

[Taro]

Jett took a long drag of her cigarette. Her dispassionate eyes scanned across her fallen allies. As she stared into the whites of Tom’s eyes it occurred to her. They weren’t getting paid enough for this. A bizarre grin spread across her features. Rain and blood danced as they dripped down her face. Funny, the heaven’s wept but she could not. Jett knew how she should feel. An image of a girl face buried in her friend’s chest flashed vividly through her mind. The girl was weeping. Who was she?

Her gaze turned back to Wyatt. He’d been talking for some time.

“So, we really doin’ this?”

Her fist clenched. No concern. No fear. No soul wrenching grief. All she had was a steady river of rage.

“Just draw. You motherfuck,” she spat.

Wyatt grinned that stupid cocky grin. Their eyes locked as the empty stretch of cobbled street between them grew slick with rain. The swordsman reached for his cigarette. Jett mirrored the movement. They each took a final toke.

Her hand shot to the dial. Wyatt’s fingers glided to his hilt. She burst forward. He was gone. Crack. Her eyes darted to her hand. The dial was shattered. Jett’s feet slid across the stone as she came to a halt.

The cigarettes hit the ground.

Jett whirled around to face Wyatt, now positioned behind her. His hand hovered over his hilt. Sword already sheathed, face frozen in the same cocksure grin. She took a step forward. Blood flowered from her left shoulder.

“Huh?”

What was going on? The cowboy had hardly moved. She took another step, keeping her eyes on the blade. This time her right shoulder was slammed backwards. He’d only half unsheathed the sword. She was being shot. Shot by nothing. She raised her arms crossing them across her torso as she began to sprint. Blood splattered from the tiny titan as she pressed on forward, taking blow after blow. She drew her right arm back as she neared Wyatt’s position. His hand grasped the hilt. Again he vanished. She wobbled to the right. A stream of blood plumed from her hip – the only evidence of her enemies’ trajectory. Her left leg seized as she hit the cobbles hard.

Despite her body’s protests, she managed to draw herself to a shaky stand. She turned again. Wyatt was yet again positioned down the street. Sword sheathed. She glanced once more to Tom.

“Faith,” she wobbled forward. Despite herself she could feel it. The thrill. “Who needs it?”

Again the barrage begun and this time Jett was slower. Shot after bloody shot, the human pincushion pressed on. Her vision was starting to blur. That cocky fucker was right. She was human. She couldn’t lose this much blood. She should stop. What was she even fighting for at this point? Despite the protests of the sanest parts of her psyche she soldiered on. She was almost in range. Again Wyatt’s hand gripped the hilt. It was now or never.

Winding back a fist she swung pre-preemptively. What her eyes told her was nothing; her fist told her was a lie. The wild hay-maker had found its mark and now her knuckles were buried deep in Wyatt’s cheek. His half drawn sword slammed back into its sheath as the swordsman hit the ground hard.

“Too slow!”

Jett’s fist sprung open as she clasped it around the mercenary’s neck following him to the floor. Wasting no time she drew the left hand back and began to pummel. She couldn’t afford to give him space. She’d end this here. The sound of flesh pounding flesh punctuated each heavy blow as at last, she’d wiped that cocky grin off that stupid mug.

“Die!” she screamed as she drew back to deliver a final right. She could see the fear in him now. The eyes always betrayed the dread, the shock. It spurred him to move. With both her arms raised Wyatt seized his moment rolling back and kicking Jett over head. He scrambled to his feet, hand already reaching to draw.

Jett knew that meant death. She flew forward, leading with a knee. Wyatt blocked with his sheathed Wazamono, holding the weapon vertically to stop the strike. He braced the block with his left hand toward the bottom but allowed his right to release. The sword spun as the momentum sent the weapon spiralling backward toward its wielder. Jett raised her fist. Quickly repositioning Wyatt allowed the sword to smoothly roll over his shoulder as his hand found the hilt. In one rolling motion he drove the hilt into the crazed girl’s face with a satisfying crunch, her nose was broken.

She didn’t even blink. Her fist found his skull as she sent the skilled fighter stumbling back. It was true Wyatt was quicker, better trained, more experienced – in fact he was hands down the better fighter. Jett was used to fighting better fighters though. Good fighters knew when they'd landed a solid strike. They knew that rewarded them reprieve. In fights you won moments. You broke your opponents guard. She had no guard.

Narrowly deflecting the next strike, sword still sheathed – Jett twisted into a spinning elbow. Wyatt dropped to the ground sweeping her legs, abusing her blind spot. She hit the floor but was already moving, she had to get up.

BANG!

The pain immune punk recoiled trying to keep her feet. Her back hit a wall. Full confidence returned to Wyatt’s features, all he’d needed was space to half draw. At almost imperceptible pace he slashed outwards allowing the sheath to fly from the blade. This was the first time she’d seen the blade fully unsheathed. She knew what it meant.

“Game over, little lady.”

Really, were those really going to be the last words she'd ever hear? That didn’t seem right. Her peripheral vision was fading to black. She just about managed to see it. A glint of metal to her left – it was Tom’s munitions!

“Guess so,” she spluttered eyes firmly on Wyatt. “Just one of those last request type deals? Before I go… I’d like… one… last… bang.”

With everything ounce of strength remaining in her junked out body Jett rolled to the left. Whether or not she was fast enough was irrelevant. She wasn’t going out like a little bitch.

[Raab]

"Stop!"

Iskandar quickly hobbled over to Wyatt's position, his gauntlet trained on the enemy while his free hand extended toward Wyatt in an attempt to halt him from taking the fight any further. The librarian's chest heaved as he gulped down breaths of air, a clear expression of the toll the battle had already taken on him. Even so, Iskandar did his best to make sure no harm came to anyone else this rainy afternoon.

"It...it's over. If you keep this up you'll end up killing yourself..."

His hand trembled uncontrollably, borne from pain or fear he couldn't tell. The clear lack of concern this woman had for her own body astounded Iskandar, and he couldn't help but show genuine concern for her well-being despite having just successfully thwarted her assassination attempt. Which was also a concern of his.

"Why did you do this?"

"Iskandar!"

His gaze shifted toward the front steps where Madame Almonte was standing, clutching the cursed books with both arms as she slowly made her way down the stairs. In that moment, the rain started coming down much harder, causing a slight uproar in the surrounding crowd as they ran for cover wherever they could find it. Iskandar, however, could not move a muscle, as his standoff with the female assassin had not resolved. It is a shame none of it really mattered, as things were about to take a drastic turn.

The street leading to the Silver Castle had become incredibly congested as people hurried along in their quest for shelter from the rain. From deep within the crowd, several figures emerged, making their way toward the scene rather quickly as they pulled cowls over their heads. Each of them carried what looked to be a homemade grenade. In their free hand they held a lit matchstick, and as they got within twenty meters of the library they lit their explosives and hurled them toward the building. A few came short of the staircase while the rest made some mark, a few falling around the Madame's immediate location which caused her to collapse on the marble steps. It seemed that she had only been singed by the fiery plumes, and no real damage had been done to the books save for some additional scuffs caused by the fall. Iskandar suddenly willed himself to move, turning his attention away from his opponent in order to rush to his aunt's aid.

"Madame!"

"Iskandar..."

But their conversation was cut short by one of the hooded figures who called out to the both of them as they continued their advance.

"No more! No more will the aristocracy of this city exploit those who made their fortunes for them."

The group began climbing the steps, doing their best to avoid the flames they themselves had ignited. It seemed they were bent on joining in on the destruction of the library, inspired to expose themselves as Unfinishistas as they saw an extension of the ruling class go up in flames in glorious fashion. Their assault, however, was tragically short, halted by a lone figure who emerged from the crowd.

The man sported a baggy brown cloak that completely obscured his identity, and it seemed that a sword's hilt was hidden beneath the article. As the crowd surged behind him, one person noticed the figure making his way toward the building, and their eyes widened as they couldn't help but call out his supposed identity.

"The Prophet!"

The Unfinishistas suddenly turned their attention to the cloaked figure, letting out cries of joy as they rushed to their fearless leader. There were rumors that in the recent flooding of the sewer system the one known as the Prophet, leader of the Unfinishista movement had managed to escape his underground prison. There was also talk of plans to make a return to the streets of the Silver City. Their hopes were confirmed as they saw him in the flesh, standing there in his mysterious glory.

"Prophet! We are humbled by your presence. Thank you...thank you for all that you've done for our great city..."

But as the figure shrugged off his cloak, the group's expression descended into fear. Beneath the cloak was a rugged-looking man with pure white hair, dressed in a royal blue military jacket and a black leather chest plate. A katana hung from his hip, tucked away in a sheath of the same royal blue which was decorated with intricate flames that continued down to the tip of the blade. His complexion was ghost-like, sporting a pair of icy cold eyes that seemed to freeze the Unfinishistas in their tracks. What was his most distinguishing feature however was the small pair of angel-like wings that extended from his shoulder blades.

His hand moved to the hilt of his blade, and he unsheathed his weapon with a quick flourish.

"I am not your Prophet, but I will deliver you to justice."

His blade suddenly ignited, blue flames screaming down the length of the weapon as he entered a battle stance. In the next moment, the man cut down each of the terrorists, plumes of fire spewing from the weapon with every slash. In no time at all, the group had become a pyre, which allowed the man to continue his advance on the library.

"Conspiring to aid a known terrorist organization. This is considered treason."

The Madame's face grew dark, and her grip on the books loosened as she began shoving them into Iskandar's hands. Her body began trembling almost as badly as his, and she could barely force herself to spit out a quick command.

"Run."

But the man extended his arms as he grew closer, blocking any advance down the marble staircase. He then placed his hands together, holding his weapon in front of him with a clearly practiced concentration. Yet all the while, his gaze stood fixed on the Madame.

"Surely you knew that Skypiea is allied with the World Government. And you were going to give those books to him?"

The Madame moved in front of Iskandar, shielding him as best she could as one of her arms reached behind her back. She placed her hand on Iskandar's chest, pushing him back into the burning building as a possible way to buy him some time. Then she placed her hand on a small pistol that was tied to the back of her blouse, whipping it around as fast as she could so that she could possibly catch the swordsman off-guard. She screamed one last command.

"Run!"

But before she could pull the trigger, the blazing blade made its way clean through the woman's chest. She froze for a moment, convulsing as flames ate her from the inside. After a few moments, her body fell to the floor in a smoldering heap. As the swordsman removed his weapon from the Madame's lifeless body, his gaze shifted to Iskandar, unfaltering even in the face of the atrocity he had just committed.

"The punishment for treason is death."

[Tori Tori Chopper]

BCCH

BOOSH

'You can't be serious..'

BANG

BWOOM

In disbelief, halfway into the dense crowd in an attempt to find his comrades, Kinn watched objects of all shapes and sizes fly overhead, a full one-eighty and a quick push and shove back out the masses gave him a view of explosions barraging the already skeletal structure of the library entrance. His body tensed, teeth grinding together as he watched hooded and rain coated figures split off from the horde to put their spark to the fire. A glance to his side saw one quite evidently ready to step forward, features besides their mouth masked like cowards below a low hanging hood, only a smirk evident as he bounced a small makeshift grenade in his hands. Frustration washed over him in equal force as the sudden downpour, twisting the individual's arm behind them and knocking their feet from the ground before he could even blink. A dramatic splash of the quickly accumulating water as the vigilante crashed to the ground with Kinn's knee firmly against their back, a quick twist of the gripped wrist and the grenade slid from his hands. The crowd dispersed around them, all curious as to the sudden take-down.

'Why?! The history you're destroying here! The lives you put at risk!'

Many watched on as a now mop-head mess of drenched hair kept down the struggling individual.

'T-The completion of this island is the death of us al- URGH!'
the preaching was cut short, the knee removed from his back and a foot planting his face into the cobblestone puddles.

'You're the death of it all! You! No stupid prophecy is 'gonna defend that!'

A semi-circle had formed, those at the edge of the crowd standing back further from the scene, simply watching on.

'But the Prophet told u-!' the voice was silenced by the cold glare that Kinn projected as he frantically looked around the crowd for the voice's origin, many flinching at his eyes resting on them for even a moment. Releasing his pinned individual to wiggle around on the floor clutching their arm. It was emotionally devastating; he knew fragments of this land, met a snippet of its people, good people! Was it them being here that caused this? Or was this incited madness by the trio of assailants that just gave them an excuse. He didn't have time to ponder on it, as the parted clusters of people gave a glimpse to a familiar duster and a glint of sheathing steel. Kinn and Wyatt's eyes locked, exchanging a thousand words in a unanimous nod and a series of pointing and head shaking. Neither of had seen Iskander recently, which led to question where the lynchpin of their alliance had run off to-

BANG

His head spun to the library stairs once more, the sound of a firearm being crystal clear over the ambient drone of hissing flames and thunderous blasts. Those under the same guise as the disarmed terrorist had gone ahead, only to remain as charred bodies littered up the stairway. A distinguishable green glow emitted like an aura in the downpours mist, retreating into the library, while another cloud of books and pages were thrown into the air as their owner's body crashed to the ground doused in a blue flame. It took a moment for it to sink in, as the culprit of this spree took one last glance into the crowd down the stairs... Brushing back his bright white hair, stepping over a body of feint though visible purple attire before entering the library himself.

'No..'

He looked back to the equally alerted Mercenary, seemingly torn between addressing the issue before him or the one that had begun to unfold. Kinn beginning to skip backwards while maintaining eye contact to gesture and mouth that he was going back inside, seeing a look of sheer confusion from the swordsman followed by a gesture to give him five before Kinn spun on his heel and began to bolt back to the stairs.. The very stairs he had just left, because the library was consumed in deathly fog and wildfire, the information he tried to push to the back of his mind as he advanced back through the towering rubble that continued to shift around in the library's innards. He slowed for a moment, already still and littered in small blue embers was Madame's resting place, unsure whether the rain caused the tears in her eyes or her final moments. The gunshot seemingly of her doing, reacquired to get Kinn's and Wyatts.. Anyone's attention in her dying breath. Terrible day for rain.

The Library itself had been all but abandoned, more frequent had become the sudden shift in precariously balanced shelving as he crumbled and collapsed sporadically in the flames, while the libraries foundations occasionally howled before breaking off in a dramatic finale of dust and scattered rubble. It was a time-bomb that could go off anywhere around you, at any time. Why the hell did he come back in here..

His reason presented itself as he peeked over a slanted balcony, climbing over its mess he got a glance of blue flame that danced with its natural counterpart in the distance, a engulfed sword became evident as well as its wielder who slowly approached his famed tag team partner that was evidently running out of options. They once again approached the root of it all, the reception area paving the way to the now barely recognisable staircases that lay deeper into the library's layout. The smoke that filled the area made it look like the inside of a volcano, Kinn already feeling the oxygen quickly being outmatched by the smog at any higher ground. No more flashy entrances, he didn't have the time. Skidding down his small climbed section for a quick burst of speed, He skidded a few feet towards the target, a quick splitter from his boot accessory giving his kick that added oomph.

'You saw what happened to the last people in my way!'
He calmly announced over flames and debris, spinning his waist and his arm raised to block the incoming kick aimed for his mid section from behind.

'That's why I'm here!'

He adjusted his weight, letting the current that blasted out his heel send his leg full circle and around to the other side of his opponents midriff.

He didn't budge, this time embracing the strike and looking over his other shoulder and down to the smaller owl-like combatant, his face lacking even the slightest bit of emotion.
'Humerous, but much like Almonte the punishment for aiding and abetting i-'

'Enough!'

There was no facial surprise, though his body did slightly prepare itself as a final burst of air pulsed out of his raised foot like a shotgun blast, sending the daunting figure skidding slightly back from his spot, though once against seemingly unharmed. They locked into a stare, Kinn slowly moving himself to Isk's side as their adversary moved to block their only escape once more, still as poker faced as he started.

'I don't care who you are, why you're here, or what book you've come looking for this time!' He firmly planted his feet to the ground, fists clenched as he slowly slipped into a stance much like those hours ago when the library was less on fire and he had to deal with the guy with blue hair, now a blue jacket.. Kinn's ability to keep track at this point bottled down to playing keep-away with Iskander. 'If getting some answers means taking you down to get out of this deathtrap?! I'll just have to do it quickly!' The slender white haired soldier bowed lightly to the challenge, never blinking, not even a smirk of confidence he had gotten to used to from his previous opponents over the last few days. He welcomed it, ready to rumble! ... Who was he kidding?

He was screwed.
Where was Wyatt.

---

Blue Jacket - f0fff0

[Terminally Chill]

“Looks like we’ll have’ta finish this another time, little lady.”

The blade once intent on killing the unrelenting thug returned to its sheath. Wyatt’s attention lingered on the hitwoman for a moment more, the monk’s remaining munitions clutched tightly in her hand. Without Iskandar’s intervention, the two warriors surely would have killed one another with their next clash.

The mercenary spit crimson onto the soggy concrete. For a moment, his body sagged with the weight of the collected injuries. He avoided looking to the puddles forming at his feet – he didn’t even want to know how his face looked after the brutal exchange.

Confidence and composure returned and Wyatt parted with a flourish of his duster. Whatever type of hell was visiting Silver City, he had a keen sense his would-be assassins were along for the ride, same as him. Nothing happening was a coincidence, but the connections were unclear. As the situation spiraled further out of control with the appearance of the hooded faction of terrorists and their own explosive bombardment of the library, his objective remained unchanged: rescue Iskandar and the madame. Still, Wyatt Wesson Smith hated not knowing what the hell was going on.

He picked Kinnatoa out from the maddening town square, trading a meaningful glance as he briskly cut across the crowd toward the library. Wyatt was begrudgingly thankful for the presence of the owlish historian. Even though their connection was fleeting, he welcomed a dependable ally amid the chaos.

Before Wyatt could construct a clever scheme to get out of the mess alive, any train of thought was derailed by the sight of the lone figure at the head of the destructive mob. The cowboy’s boots skid against the slick concrete and he came to a halt with an abrupt splash. Every instinct in his body screamed of the danger emanating from the cloaked individual, imparting a spontaneous revelation: whatever misfortune the mysterious books wrought, this single figure embodied the greatest challenge yet.

The mercenary took no satisfaction in watching his instinctual predictions ring true. Cruel plumes of blue flame effortlessly ripped through the Unfinishistas soon after the figure discarded the cloak and revealed his ghostly visage. Simply witnessing the pale demon swing a sword confirmed his skill was a cut high above their previous opponents. Wyatt watched grimly as Madame Almonte was the next to be felled by the cold blaze. He was no stranger to death in his line of work – the lack of hesitation in the man’s sword was another kind of shock.

Kinnatoa bolted to the jaws of doom with only a haphazard string of hand movements to communicate the reckless decision. His bravery was admirable, but the owl boy had clearly not experienced the same wave of malice imparted to Wyatt. None of them would last very long, especially just after the grueling fight against the trio of assassins.

Wyatt wavered at first as he forced his aching body to action, staggering in his first steps but soon breaking into a speedy dash. Strained muscles soon remembered the mettle required to survive as a sword-for-hire and ceased the cres for respite, driving him forward through the sheets of rain and turmoil. Darting around the chaotic remnants and up the ravaged stairs, Wyatt plunged through one of the craggy marble maws blown into the side of the University Library.

“I'll just have to do it quickly!”

Kinnatoa's voice was immediately recognizable – he was only a short distance from the stunned-still Iskandar, making his stand against the ghostly soldier amid the burning bookshelves and choking smoke. Wyatt had made it in time and armed with the element of surprise, approach masked by the contrast of pouring rain and roaring flames. Just as the mysterious man moved to strike, the mercenary intervened. His sword's movement was flawless, unleashed by the draw finely honed by hundreds of battles.

Too slow.

The shining streak narrowly flashed passed the tip of the man's nose as he evaded with a graceful step, the single slash's wake gently rustling his snowy hair. A tempered mixture of amusement and surprise glimmered deep within the icy glare as he met the unyielding focus in Wyatt's eyes. The opening was not lost on the stoic swordsman, the blue blaze ignited along his murderous blade yet again. Wyatt's body strained to comply as he attempted to recover from the missed attack, but his opponent reacted with deadly swiftness.

The fiery sword descended in a brilliant arc to claim another life, nearly succeeding until the mercenary lashed out with the sheath in his opposite hand, connecting not with the weapon, but with the wielder's wrists. The attack's strength faltered for only a second, allowing Wyatt the crucial moment to shift slightly backward before his last-ditch defensive buckled beneath the force. The blade's edge bit down into Wyatt's shoulder with a sickening sizzle, burning through the worn duster with blue flame.

Wyatt sloppily stumbled backward and slammed into a burned-out bookcase, stifling a scream. He grimaced intensely and clutched at the smoldering wound on his shoulder. Still, he wasn't dead.

“Such speed is to be expected of the man known as 'The Quickdraw,'” the snowy-haired swordsman started slowly, blue flames burning menacingly.
“But speed alone will not stay the sword of justice. Your punishment will be the same, Wyatt Wesson Smith.”

The mercenary heaved in a deep breath, his cool and confident smirk battling through the pain. He stepped forward defiantly, mustering a sturdy stance before the overwhelming enemy.

“If ya really know who I am, then ya shoulda already figured out I wasn’t aimin’ for you, hoss.”

Shink.

Wyatt finally sheathed his katana, a clean slice appearing in the marble supporting a swathe of bent and bowed roof wreckage directly above the two. Wood and rubble gave way as a great deluge of rainwater and debris pooled in the crater came crashing down. The blue flames met the falling torrent, a massive explosion of steam flooding the first floor in an instant. The white-haired swordsman wore a slight sneer of distaste before vanishing behind the thick white cloud.

“Kinn! Grab the kid n' get the hell outta dodge!” Wyatt called out with a ragged shout, whirling around to make his own hasty escape.

[Taro]

“Why did you do this?”

Jett stood slowly, saved from her kamikaze defence by some plain looking adolescent. What a peculiar kid. Insomuch as he wasn’t remotely peculiar. He was plainly terrified, Jett may not be those most empathetic but she’d seen fear up close enough to know its look. Yet it was more than that, behind the horror was compassion. Not just for his friend either, but for her. Stupid kid, he hadn’t seen violence before. Not really.

“Felt like it,” Jett said standing her shaky body slowly. “That and it was ‘sposed to be a fairly easy paycheque. Who in the fuck are you weirdoes anyways?”

With a disgusting crunch the young thug re-set her own broken nose. A chorus of grenade fire and screaming drew the strange post fight dialogue to a quick conclusion.

“Looks like we’ll have’ta finish this another time, little lady.”

“I look forward to it, big man.”

Jett’s impartial eyes turned to the carnage. Her opponent and his comrades were already rushing toward it – and people called her crazy. She recognised a few of the grenadiers. Her employers, boy did she have a few choice words. Amongst it all was a commanding figure. His hair was thick and stark white. The mane framed his pointed yet elegant features, giving him an almost wolfish appearance.

This Wolf was not on the hunt though. He was already in the chicken coop. Tearing through those around him like they were made of paper; he lazily flicked his flaming sword to and fro.

“Are those wings?” Jett rubbed her eyes but they did nothing to alter the truth. This white haired warrior had wings, if not for the sword one might have mistook him for an angel.

“Did I die after all?” the confused brawler asked herself. She pinched her arm to check. “Still nothing…”

A heart-wrenching cry pierced through the blitzkrieg of noise. A woman stood, impaled on the burning sword.

“Gnarly,” Jett muttered as she watched the woman tumble to the ground. This was really nothing to him. There was no bloodlust. No thrill. Nor was their regret or a modicum of hesitance. Pure business – he was a rare killer indeed. His attention turned to the kid, clutching those stupid books. All this couldn’t be simply for some words on a page.

“Jett!” the familiar voice pulled her instantly back to the moment. Apollo was up and moving. Immediately she saw his concern. Tom was still down and shit was getting messy. It would take at least the two of them to move him and bail the fuck out. Jett’s body may have been painless but it was moving reluctantly. She staggered through the chaos to her companions.

With some difficulty the two managed to prop up the mammoth man, one under each arm. They were amongst it now. The air was thick with the smell of damp, smoke and blood. They started forward trying to stagger their way through the melee. They didn’t get far. A right hook sent Jett spiralling to the ground.

“Stupid bitch!” she looked up, what the fuck was it now? “You were just ‘sposed to hit the bodyguard with the faulty dial.”

“You fuckin’ what?”

“All you had to do was take him out of commission briefly, somewhere quiet and we swoop in and get the books”. The man motioned around at the ensuing chaos. “N-now look at this, this is your fault! I m—uh…”

A flash of blue flame brought the lecture to a premature end. Jett’s perturbed employer was now a corpse.

“No, no. This is my fault. It was really quite poor delegation.” He turned his cold eyes to Jett who was once again struggling to stand.

“In ulterior circumstance your tenacity would be considered impressive. Unfortunate, for you, that you are now a loose end.” He spoke matter of factly, his attention only half on Jett. “I hate dirtying my hands with this plebeian humdrum but alas. I can’t ignore a riot. Nor can I permit failure. Not when the stakes—”

The wall of steam behind him was fading. He glanced back toward the kid with the books as his comrades scrambled to his side. The path into the library now loosely sealed with debris. “Time’s up. Goodbye Miss?”

“Demeanour,” Jett stalled as she took a step back. Too slow.

“Droll.” Another flash of blue flame, this time its target was Jett. She tried to spring back to dodge, but as she put the weight on her back leg it gave from under her. She truly was spent. The edge of her vision blackened again.

Hot metal tore through flesh as the white killer’s blade plunged its way through a heart. Jett looked up.

“TOM!?” she screamed, somehow the unconscious mammoth had manoeuvred himself in the way of fatal slice. His two titanic canons were crossed in an ‘x’. Each slid to the ground. The flaming sword had cut through them like they were made of butter. Tom managed a weak smile.

“Have f--”

“I know, I know! Shut up, don’t talk.”

“No. Have… fun.”

Whilst the exchange had taken place the other group was already manoeuvring itself farther into the library. The winged ravager had lost what little interest he’d had in the exchanged and turned back to more pressing matters. With a final disdainful glance to Jett he flicked his blade cutting his way back into the library.

Apollo was visibly shaken but ever the pragmatist. “Let’s go,” he looked at the blood still slowly pouring from Jett’s hip. “We gotta get you taken care of.”

The neon haired girl just stood, trying to make sense of the last couple of minutes. Her fist balled and un-balled, green eyes glazed. Unthinkingly she tore the top of one of Tom’s shells clean off. Taking a handful of gunpowder she rubbed it into the worst of her Wyatt given wounds. Lifting a wet but still embering piece of wooden debris, Jett burned her wound closed. Her eyes still fixed on the winged freak.

“I’m taken care of…” she muttered as her hand fondled the rest of the ammunition. “You go, I’ll… see ya next time.”

“Don’t be stupid. We can get this guy back later. It’s--”

“Get the fuck outta here Apollo.”

[Raab]

The inside of what remained of the lower levels of the library filled with a noxious mixture of steam and smoke, which did nothing but obscure vision and hamper breathing for those trapped within. Despite this, Iskandar made no moves to shield his eyes or fill his lungs with fresh air. He could only stagger backwards, paying little heed to the smoldering texts and battered bookcases that littered his retreat into the depths of the library. He couldn't help but fix his eyes on the pile of rubble that sat in the building's threshold, tears welling as he digested the reality around him. Next to the mound lay the incinerated body of his lifelong guardian, snuffed out of existence after one final expression of love and courage. It was a hard pill to swallow, especially amidst the wreckage of his home-turned-hell-hole, but the situation was escalating faster than he could adjust and he had to compose himself if he was going to get out of this alive.

Perhaps he needed some motivation.

As the smog thickened within the library, Iskandar quickly lost sight of his comrades and their stone-faced aggressor. His vision of the entrance also faded, which at least allowed him to snap back to his immediate reality. His very frightening, very sobering immediate reality.

A blue light suddenly flashed from within the cloud, appearing somewhere off to the right of Iskandar's position. In the next moment, a wave of blue flames scorched Iskandar's right shoulder, causing him to shriek in pain as he fell backwards, tripping over a small set of stairs after an attempt to avoid the tail end of the assault. As Iskandar pushed himself up onto his feet, the books tucked under one arm, he realized that his gauntlet was still emitting its signature sea-green light, which almost certainly gave away his position amid the smoke-laden haze. Iskandar's eyes widened at the realization, which led him to shoving the gloved hand under his shirt so as to dampen the glow. Sure enough, the layers of cloth absorbed the light, allowing the librarian to slip into the cover of the smog along with the rest of them.

"Not completely hopeless, it seems."

Another blue flash, only this time, the flames that followed it shot directly in front of Iskandar, singeing the tips of his sneakers as they barely missed their mark. Iskandar stifled a whimper, letting out a quick breath of air through his nostrils as a result. It wasn't a very loud noise, but to the trained ear of a veteran soldier, perhaps it was enough to give away the boy's position.

"Pity..."

Iskandar suddenly felt a wave of heat wash over the right side of his body, blue light half-blinding him as he attempted to react to the close-quarters offensive. All the young librarian could see was the blue of the blade, which seemed to arch high above him, looking as though it would come crashing down at any moment.

"...to have been caught up in all of this."

MRRRRRRRREEEEEOOOWWWWW!

Another cry of pain erupted from within the cloud, only now it had come from the white-haired soldier who was now dancing in circles around the reception area, pawing at his face as he did so. It seemed that in the moment before their opponent's attack, a certain soon-forgotten companion of Iskandar's had decided to make his life-saving debut. The librarian's heart leapt out of his chest, stirring him to call out his old friend's name.

"Djinn!"

There was no mistaking that the furry mass which seemed to hover near the blue light was the library lurker Djinn, Iskandar's picky cat companion! In his most desperate hour, the creature had come to the boy's aid, turning the tide of battle enough to lead him to thinking.

Where could he have been hiding...

Iskandar suddenly perked up, finding that there was only one place that Djinn could have been hiding as the destruction of the library unfolded. It made little sense that the cat would stick around through a siege of that caliber, which meant that he would have had to have been trapped somewhere before this all started.

The Employee's Quarters!

The Employee's Quarters was the service office located at the back of the first floor. This was where Iskandar spent a good deal of his time when he wasn't out making sure everything was tidy in the main hall. It was a relatively small workshop which doubled as a storage room, containing a lot of supplies which aided in the upkeep of reading material. The room also led to a much smaller room, which was about the size of a big closet. The only thing the room contained was a small hatch, which led to a service tunnel that ran beneath the library and out into the city. The tunnel served as a direct line to the Silver University, making the delivery of texts much more efficient for those tasked with their transport. Iskandar himself had not ever taken the plunge into the underbelly of the city, but the fact he knew it existed was all that mattered.

His attention shifted to the blue flames that danced wildly in the cloud, making it very easy to pinpoint the swordsman's location. It seemed that Djinn was finally beginning to tire, and the dark clump jumped to the ground, disappearing into the low-hanging smoke that flooded around Iskandar's ankles. The blue flames grew more calm as the moments passed, hinting that the soldier was quickly recovering from the successful ambush. If the boy was going to act, he was going to have to act now.

With one last composing breath, Iskandar sprang into action.

"Mr. Smith! Mr. Kinnatoa! Follow the green light!"

Iskandar removed his hand from beneath his shirt and turned on his heel, beginning to make his mad dash for the door to the Employee's Quarters. Which just happened to be sitting a few meters in front of him.

[Taro]

Jett stepped back into the inferno. Now more pressure cooker than library, even she could feel the heat. The air itself was thick and full of smoke, making it hard to breath. Shadows moved behind the walls of flame and a green light flickered through the red. Only one colour mattered though.

The blue sword appeared to float as it meandered through the library. It’s owner invisible behind the smoke and fire. Jett’s hand wrenched a shell from the chain. She hurled it.

Moments later a thunderous roar emitted from behind her target, the smoke and fire parted for the briefest of moments as she caught his eerily calm eyes.

“You again? I grow weary of this game of cat and-”

“Owl?” She hurled another shell carelessly through the flames. The blue streak blurred to the right avoiding a second explosion. “Don’t worry, I’m the only animal that matters now. No more games. This is your fuckin’ coffin.”

The sword stopped suddenly switch directions directly towards her.

“Ironic,” his chilling voice now suddenly worryingly close “that was my line.”

With a wall of flame at her back, Jett squared off against the white haired killer. She had no fight left, but that was never the plan.

“No where to run…” he raised his flaming blade, haunting visage framed by a hellish backdrop.

“Ironic,” she took a deep breath.

Jett turned away pressing on straight through the wall of fire. With an almost indiscernable clink she dropped the chain of remaining munitions. Everywhere she looked was death. No distinguishing features. No way to navigate. Then she saw it again, deeper into the library now. That green light!

Like a lighthouse to a boat in a storm, the light guided her. Shoulder down she charged through the burning building, she had seconds at most.

“Mister Smith, Mister Kinnatoa I really must insist-”

Iskandar’s eager expression immediately switched to confusion as the neon haired streak came bursting from the blaze, partially alight. He was crouched in front a now opened metal hatch leading to the service tunnel below.

“What? Where arUHH!—”

"Don't shout in the library!"

Not even slowing down Jett tackled her way through the kid and straight into the hatch behind him. The two now balled together tumbled down the stair into the darkness below.

BWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A thunderous eruption shook through the ground as marble came crashing down above their heads.

[Raab]

A chorus of coughs echoed through the pitch-black corridor, infinitely rebounding off the rigid walls of the underground path which seemed to extend into nothingness in every direction. As the dust from the cave-in settled, a faint sea-green light revealed itself, sitting just before the mound of crushed marble and rock that had followed what was hopefully the last explosion of the day. The light illuminated the convulsing body of Iskandar, who was still half-delirious from the unexpected counter-offensive employed by the one who had started this whole mess: that rocket girl with the insane cronies, who was now lounging before him, taking a long drag on a freshly-lit cigarette as she basked in the fruit of her labor. It was amazing that she was able to move at all, let alone mount a full-scale assault on what was perhaps the strongest creature Iskandar had ever come to know in his entire life. He had a hard time referring to the white-haired warrior as a man. He was more of a monster. Iskandar brought his naked hand to his right cheek. He could still feel the heat of the blue flames coursing inches from his body. It was not a feeling he would soon forget.

As he caught his breath and his bearings, the librarian propped himself up, returning to his feet after a few moments' struggle. Iskandar took a deep breath so as to compose himself before dealing with the brute before him. Not surprisingly, the composure didn't last long.

"You absolute lunatic! You could have killed us all?!"

Iskandar was seething. His body shook with anger, but his face looked more confused than anything else. He was looking for more answers without asking new questions, and the paradoxical loop he had fashioned for himself became irritating beyond belief. The intensity of the situation was clearly messing with his head, and rightfully so. Everything he knew and loved had disappeared over the course of an afternoon. The city he worked so hard for was now caught in a storm of chaos, and it seemed that it had got swept up in whatever nefarious plot surrounded the books that had led his dear Aunt and the library she cared for to an untimely death.

The books!

Sure enough, there they were. All three, lying in a pile between himself and his adversary, who was just now responding to his antagonistic scolding.

"Tch, yeah. But I didn't."

The woman took another long drag on her cigarette, exhaling the cloud directly in front of her face, which was eye-level for Iskandar. Having nowhere to escape, the cloud lingered, which caused the young librarian to choke and spend a few seconds coughing, allowing the neon-haired thug to expand upon her previous statement.

"Not aaallll of us, anyway."

The woman hoisted herself up at the waist, hanging on to her knees as she folded herself into an upright, indian-style sitting position. She took a short, forceful pull on her cigarette before removing it from her dry lips, holding it loosely between two fingers as she began imagining the fallout of her impromtu coup de grâce.

"Hopefully took that flaming fucker out of commission. Maybe that one-trick-pony-ass-samurai-wannabe to-"

The woman's ramblings were cut short as Iskandar grabbed her by the shirt and hoisted her up against the nearest wall. His gloved hand was poised for attack, burning with an intense sea-green light that looked ready to explode forth with a burning surge at any moment. Iskandar's gaze was stern, and it shot directly into the woman's own surprisingly excited eyes. The shaking that had plagued him for so long had finally stopped as he braced himself against the thuggish assassin's immobilized body.

"If you have killed Mr. Smith or Mr. Kinnatoa, I promise your life ends on the Silver Islands. One way...or another."

The woman cackled with glee, squirming in Iskandar's grip as she digested his threat. She returned his gaze with raw ferocity, her face illuminated by the green light of the gauntlet.

"Ballsy, motherfucker. And rough! I like it."

The woman's grin instantly changed to a determined scowl. Her head reeled back ever so slightly, just enough for her neck to tense up with potential energy, which allowed her to fire her soot-stained forehead directly for the librarian's nose. She met her target with pinpoint accuracy, causing him to stagger backward and trip over the pile of books that had once separated them. The woman straightened herself up, stretching her neck side-to-side as she turned away from her travel partner and the pile of rubble that separated them from what remained of the library.

"But I also saved your ass. So I guess we'll have to see about your fuckin' misters."

She bent down and picked up her lit cigarette from the ground, savoring the last moments of its life before preparing herself for the journey ahead. Iskandar held his bloodied nose with the top of his sweater, applying pressure to his nostrils in hopes to stem the flood of blood that gushed forth from them. He was caught completely off-guard by the woman's counter and comment, something that was beginning to become a pattern in their very brief relationship. There was no arguing with her at this point, for there was a long way between them and the Silver University at the heart of the city. Hopefully he could spend some time divulging some information from this bombshell (in a more literal sense).

Iskandar picked himself up, still cradling his wounded nose in his sweater. He used his gloved hand to gather the books before him, solemnly tucking them beneath his left armpit in an attempt to more efficiently distribute their weight. After wrestling with texts for a minute or so, Iskandar joined the woman's side, waving away the cloud of smoke that hung around her shoulders.

"We shall. And that may take some time, as I have never traversed the underbelly of this city before."

Iskandar glanced down at his gauntlet, gulping as he realized another unfortunate truth.

"And there's no telling how long this light will last without a power source."

Which meant they had to get moving. Iskandar took the first step, holding his gauntlet out in front of him so as to illuminate the path forward. He didn't suspect that anything would surprise them, but there was no telling how fast news would travel to the University. The only other entrance to this path could be swarming with Silver Police at a moment's notice. Or maybe the underground had been compromised by the Unfinishistas. After today...anything was possible.

[Terminally Chill]

Earlier, before everything went even more to shit...

“Kinn! Grab the kid n' get the hell outta dodge!”

Wyatt soon burst through the one of the smoldering marble maws blown into the library walls, greeting the gentle patter of rain with a grateful gasp. Heaving in deep breaths of the fresh rainy air, he swiftly surveyed the chaotic remnants of the Unfinishista attack greeting him after the daring escape.

A new force were now fighting against cloaked terrorists: a cadre of men armed with batons and pistols and bearing the distinctive uniform of the Silver Police. Only took a thousand explosions for them to finally show up. The Unfinishista agents were on the defensive against the police’s organized assault, yet still fought tooth and nail with only fanaticism as fuel.

“MUAHAHAHAHA!”

The cackle of pure menace came from none other than Lady DeGray, fearlessly charging through the carnage while several officers scrambled worriedly to wrangle their fiery young ward. The sight of Kinnatoa’s cape billowing behind the little girl brought the situation’s urgency crashing down on Wyatt yet again. He whirred around to catch some emerging glimpse of the owl boy and bookworm, or worse, the blue blaze of the snowy-headed killer.

BLUGHGEUGHGURHGHUGH.

Relief swelled in Wyatt’s chest as Kinn emerged in a coughing and hacking fit from the library only a short distance away. He stumbled hastily to his unlikely ally, eyes darting for any sign of Iskandar in toe.

“Kinn! Where’n the hell’s… the kid...?” his question trailed off, mouth diminishing to a hard line as the owl boy excitedly displayed the results of his rescue. Kinn’s own proud grin faded to puzzlement, a small paw batting against his hand.

“MEOW?!”

He was holding the god damn cat.

The mercenary and historian shared a painful exchange of awkward silence despite the violence raging around them. Wyatt’s fingers drummed on the hilt of his sword with a simmering aggravation. This job was really not going well. Kinn studied the stripes of Djinn’s coat for a moment longer before finally mounting some sort of defense for the mix-up.

“The blue guy turned him into a c–!”

“Stop! Just stop.”

Wyatt held out a flat palm to halt the explanation, shaking his head dismally and letting out a grating sigh. With what little professionalism he had left, the mercenary steeled his resolve to enter the burning deathtrap yet again.

Well, until the whole, you know...


BWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'GUWAH?!'

'MREOWWW!?'

Both the Owl's animated fur-like hair and the cats, well.. Actual fur, both stood on end in the sudden rise of ambient noise. The crescendo of explosions and blurring flames that were the most consistent thing that's happened since they had arrived on the island came to a glorious finale in an eruption of rock and a thunderous crack of the library's innards. It was a horrific case of deja vu, he had been in this courtyard not minutes ago watching Iskander run back into the first circle of hell only to watch it kick it up about ten notches and turn into a blatant bonfire with no resemblance to its original structure. He blamed the rain once more, heartbroken as his efforts to protect this place literally went up in flames, his eye's teared up partly from the scene, but also from the pain this feline was inflicting on his hands and arms as it ravaged his flesh in an attempt to escape his clutches.

'Iskan-Cat no!'

'Forget the cat Kinn, where's the Kid?!'

'I thought you had him!?'

'You're the one who went in after him?!'

'Then someone made a giant white smoke screen ONTOP of the death smoke screen!'

'So we could run away from the BLUE FLAME GU-'

'AAAAAAH- GUH?!'

The two had slowly approached each other with each sentence in their shouting contest, which to their defence was needed in light of a large amount of noise happening around them, and to make them feel better. They had been close to Eskimo kissing when they both turned to a man in rags, quickly identified as one of the culprits responsible for the initial bombing of the library, stopped in his tracks from crazily swinging two chunks of wood at the duo while they argued. The man had been halted in his tracks by a figure twice his size, stopping his insane flailing technique to hit as many people and things possible with a polite grip on the collar of his clothing. Wyatt and Kinnatoa nodded in thanks to the large man dressed in black padded clothing, sporting a silver trim around the shoulder and sleeves, the man nodding in return before directing the two's sight towards the true target of the crazed man's assault. The red haired ally of Owl-man standing beside them for apparently quite some time, tapping her foot impatiently for the two to end their bickering.

'.. 'Ya done?'

'Yes Ma'am.'

'S-Sure..'

'Good~' She spun suddenly on her heel, what could only be described as a generic karate attack noise being screamed like a warcry as she sent Kinn's equipped gauntlet soaring into the apprehended rebels crotch, the larger man releasing him to writhe around on the ground. Kinn and Wyatt flinched at the sight, the girl now more formally known as Lady DeGray unphased in a sudden regal resolve that was not earlier showcased. She undid the fastenings of the cape, removing the gloves and neatly presenting them back to her new reading buddy, clicking her fingers as another guard of equal size moved into view. She raised her arms into the air, the man's hand that was nearly the size of her whole body neatly placing a large fur coat over the slightly tattered and burnt clothes, pulling out a giant umbrella suitable for a gentleman of his size, creating enough of a canopy for both himself and the little lady. Kinn organised himself with his reacquired equipment, watching the other three hulking guards of DeGray that bulldozed any attempted aggression on her or any ruffian activity in their general vicinity.

'Your friends are.. Interesting.'
He locked eyes with the one serving as an umbrella holder, who charmingly gave him a big grin, despite his gruff features.

'Mum sends them when things get super bad.'

Snuggling into the thick furs of her coat's collar, she raised a brow at a quick survey of the group.

'Where's the jumper guy?' Kinn and Wyatt both audibly sighed at the query, furrowing their brows to one another immediately after, as if both were looking to childishly blame the other. 'Could tell you where the cat was.' Wyatt snarkily remkared as the slightly singed yet apparently content animal was quick to seek shelter under the same umbrella, rubbing its face against the girls leg as they conversed. Kinn sharply exclaimed, ready to continue their verbal bout, instead exhaling slowly, his mind slowly wrapping around maybe the worst case scenario's of the imploded library. 'W-We lost him somewhere in there, I could see his glove light going towards the back though..' DeGray tapped her chin, gasping in the revelation before seemingly beginning to just walk off into the distance. 'He'll be at the Castle! Or at least around there..' The two were submerged in the rain once more as her henchmen shadowed her movement, looking to one another as Wyatt shrugged, wiping the hair from his face before following suit.

'If that's where the money is, lead the way, Little Lady.'
He flicked his jacket to get the immediate pooled water off its crevices. As Kinn followed close behind with a look that can only be translated to really?

'The Kid, as well, of course.'

'How do you know he's going to be there?'
Kinn trailed the pack, throwing the hood on his cape as similar framed bodyguards to the girl pushed ahead, pushing apart groups and throwing remaining terrorists aside.

'He was probably going to use the under-tunnels of the library.' She rubbed at her eyes, only now it was visible that she'd begun to grasp the situation that had unfolded, despite her surprising gusto, she took a cloth from a guard who slid in alongside them, seemingly for that specific purpose. 'I use them to come back and forth from the castle grounds when Mum and Dad don't let me come to the library.. L-Like today.' She let out a small sniffle, seemingly attempting to contain the loss of a place and person of great importance to her, though Kinn did take note that she was very collected despite the insanity that occurred over the course of an afternoon. 'You guys seemed very prepared, are building's always exploding around here?' She used the question as an excuse to shrug off her sad expression, turning excitedly to the curiosity. 'Sometimes multiple buildings.'

'Where's he taken us, Wyatt..'
He didn't so much respond, as simply twirl his finger around his ear while crossing his eyes.

'Also uh, thanks for helping with the Blue death man.. Was pretty cool though, with that sword? Wierd that he came so late.'

'He wasn't part 'o that ragtag crew. The guy was too far up his own ass.'

'Ever thought of lighting your sword on fire? Looked pretty co-'

'Hey, DeGray was it?'

'Aw come on man.'

'Anastasia.' She said quite proudly, at this point their occupied conversation having them unconsciously pulled away from the central section of the town, and around towards a small incline, as the guards took formation with the much less occasional pushing or obliterating of anything in DeGray's general direction. She even gave Kinn a small smile, as he bowed quite childishly at the discovery of her name. 'Kinn makes a good point, what's with these guys tryin' to meet a daily riot quota.'

'You mean like, from the beginning?'

'Yes plea-!'

'Bullet-points would be great.'

'Whaaa..'

'Okay! So..'

[Taro]

The two unlikely companions pressed on in awkward silence. This was the closest in proximity she’d been to the kid without one of them intending to assault the other. Now that things had finally calmed down, she had a moment to really size him up. The strange green glow of Iskandar’s gauntlet was the only source of light – and as such it gave the young scholar a more sickly looking hue. Besides that, he was a normal looking guy. Well groomed but unremarkable. Most surprising to Jett was the young man’s height. His demeanour somehow made him appear smaller, certainly at a distance. Now stood side by side however it was clear they were similarly built. Albeit Iskandar actually had a couple of inches of height on Jett, he was also a tad skinnier.

Finally Jett unleashed an exaggerated yawn which merited but the smallest of glances from her human light source. His body language was closed, clutching the books tightly to his chest. A change in tack then.

“Soooo~ Those books must be pretty valuable” she verbally poked. This time she earned a scowl as the kid clutched the books even more tightly.

“I ain’t stupid.”

“Could have fooled me,” Isk muttered. “Ain’t stupid is oxymoronic.”

“Those boo— you’re oxymornic! Cheeky fucker.” Jett stumbled once again taken off guard by her not so mild-mannered guide. “Say that a little louder next time and you might hurt a girl’s feelings.”

“All I’m saying is… those intellectually inclined tend not to fire themselves out of cannons. Or subject themselves to explosives. Or indeed walk into sword propelled bullet fire.”

“You noticed?” she smirked. “So tell me do those intellectually inclined walk into burnin’ libraries?”

“When under the duress of a winged madman wielding a flaming sword, sure” Isk riposted again.

“The winged madman that wanted those,” she indicated back to the books. “I saw that lady, the way she gave those things to you – what words could possibly be worth dyin’ for?”

Iskandar went quiet again. Jett tilted her head a look of contemplation on her face.

“Your mum?”

“Pretty much, she raised me. She’s my aunt” his eyes had lost some of that fire they had found.

“She was your aunt,” Jett corrected studying Isk’s face as all the anger came flooding back.

“You fucking PSYCHOTIC!” he spat whirring around threateningly.

“Oh sure, so only you get to correct grammar.”

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” he raised his glowing gauntlet, but the girl didn’t react.

“Wrong with me? We attacked you. I tried to kill your friend. Maybe killed your friends. Took a job without askin’ any questions as to why – ultimately resulting in the death of your–”

“SHUT UP!”

Again Jett found herself slammed into the stone service tunnel wall. She was weak. Physically spent, despite the boys lacking combat experience really she was at his mercy. He lifted his glowing weapon, his eyes consumed with anger – having lost something that was there before. This she understood.

“You want to die is that it?” Isk managed, his right arm shaking with a combination of rage and barely managed restraint.

“What ya’ waiting for, pussy.”

Suddenly the kid’s expression changed. The antagonism was too obvious. Her eyes were studying him. He lowered his arm. Something was off.

“What… what is wrong with you?” this time the question was real, genuine confusion. Now his eyes were studying her back.

“Why are you stopping again?”

“Again?” he released his grip.

“When that cowboy had me, you didn’t let him finish it. He coulda… before I got to the shells. You ai—aren’t dumb, you knew that.”

“It was over,” Isk replied dully.

“Yeah for me it was. I saw that look. You weren’t scared for that douche. You stopped him, for me.”

“Like I said it was over. We were all alive. We’d won. Why would I want you dead?”

“So that I can’t do it again?”

Iskandar somehow managed a chuckle. “I suppose that’s rational. I don’t think it’s natural for humans to want to kill each other though. Not really. At least from a holistic evol—”

“What?”

“Nevermind. I guess… I let you live, because I felt like it.”

“Ah.”

“We should move. Like I said… I don’t know how long this light will last.”

Jett nodded, shaking off the mini assault before once again walking alongside the subterranean navigator.

“I’m Jett, by the way.”

“Iskandar.”

[Raab]

The pair continued their stroll down the dank service tunnel, unsure of whether or not they were making any progress given the unending dark that surrounded them on all sides.They had been walking for a good while, and even in the midst of their most recent verbal altercation they had probably made a decent chunk of their journey. Having never traversed the path before, and having no signs with which to orient themselves, it seemed that Iskandar and Jett would have to make do with pace they had set.

It was just unfortunate that the silences that plagued them were so painful.

Iskandar's eyes shifted over to Jett, who was paying no mind to him as she grunted and spat in her walk along the dark path. She was so edgy, so rough, so unkempt...and so unapologetic about it. It was astounding to say the least, and it left the librarian at a loss for words when it really counted.

He managed to get his question out all the same:

"So...what is your deal then?"

"Hm?"

"All of this. Why did you do this? I'm not satisfied by your earlier answer..."

There was no way that Jett and her comrades would storm a World Government-affiliated establishment simply because they "felt like it", and the payout for a job of that sort had to be astronomical. She didn't look or act like a professional mercenary, not like Wyatt. She seemed too spontaneous, with no calculations or strategy accompanying anything that she did. Which made the former reasoning all the more plausible.

"Who put you up to it?"

Jett let out a disgruntled sigh and a short, agitated moan before throwing her arms behind her head, quickening her pace ever so slightly so that she was calling back to Iskandar instead of discussing the issue face-to-face.

"Not sure. Apollo-...uh, that blue-haired pussy you guys wailed on, he set this job up. Anonymous client with some deep pockets. And some fun toys..."

Jett reached into her pocket and exhumed the remnants of the Reject Dial she used in her scuffle with Wyatt.

"This thing is a beastly little fucker...but those fucking pieces of shit gave me a fucking dud..."

She was really upset about the Dial.

"But yeah...take out your brokeback cowpoke, something about those books...I'm a little fuzzy on the details."

Jett peeked backwards for a second, shooting Iskandar a sly grin before turning back around.

"I just like raising hell, with or without a paycheck."

She let out a chuckle, which led to a sigh while she shook her head from side to side.

"Definitely nothing personal, kid."

Iskandar couldn't help but get frustrated with Jett. Not only was she completely devoid of any useful information, but it seemed as though she was openly mocking him, nonchalantly referring to her exploits as if they didn't involve ending everything he knew as his own immediate existence.

Though, perhaps it wasn't all useless. If anything, it did seem that she was just in this "for the fun", or perhaps, that is what her employer was feeding into. More likely than anything, she was simply a pawn in a much larger game that involved the texts that he was carrying at that very moment. The danger that followed them was the only certainty.

"Well...since your employer has access to Dial Technology, it is safe to say that they are affiliated with Skypiea."

Iskandar glanced down to his gauntlet, recalling the technology that led him to creating the device.

"And wasn't that white-haired fellow a Skypiean..."

Iskandar was deep in thought, desperately trying to piece everything together. It was only a shame he didn't have a little more everything to work with.

"It wasn't until we had you on the ropes that the Blue Swordsman chose to reveal himself. You had failed your job, and he was coming in to clean up your...mess...?"

Jett spun around on her heel, her face contorting itself with anger as she attempted to spit back in response to Iskandar's objective analysis of the day's events.

"OI. Listen here, mate-"

Iskandar held up his gloved hand in an attempt to silence his female companion. It was unlikely, but the young librarian could have swore that he could hear the rush of water passing by them on each side of the walls that surrounded them amidst their conversation. The young man took a moment to step closer to the wall and place his ear up against it in order to verify the suspicion. Much to his surprise, his inkling was verified.

"I-Is...is that running water?"

Iskandar's thought was cut short by a violent rumble that shook the entire passage, rocking both travelers enough to send them off-balance and grabbing at the nearest wall. A brief calm overcame the hall, giving Iskandar and Jett enough time to shoot each other puzzled glances before the aftershock of the quake came rolling past them. Suddenly, a faint chorus of churning stone echoed from the path they had taken from the library, growing louder and louder with each passing second. Iskandar realized what was going on, and issued the quickest and most efficient of commands given the situation.

"RUN!"

The young man immediately began sprinting as fast as he could down the hall, gauntlet stretched out before him so as to illuminate as much of the path ahead as possible. Before long, Iskandar could smell the stale cigarette smoke that perfumed his thuggish comrade-in-the-making, who was just now joining him at his side, awkwardly throwing her mangled body about in an attempt to keep pace with her nonathletic partner. As always, she couldn't help but be understandably blunt.

"The FUCK is going on?!"

Iskandar attempted to explain the situation between quick gasps of air, his gaze fixed on the way forward all the while.

"Your little finale back there probably did a fair amount of structural damage-..."

"Hehe, fuck yeah it did."

Iskandar's eyes squinted slightly as he broke off mid-sentence, unable to come to terms with the manner in which this Jett person was able to carry herself, even in the face of certain death by her own hand.

"Yes...well, it seems that we are dealing with a cave in."

As he finished his thought, the librarian could feel a more violent rumble coming up from beneath him which caused the ground to crack and crumble as he tore through the darkness. Iskandar's gaze shot down for a moment to assess the situation, which as one might guess was far from good. Large cracks had begun developing in the ground and walls around them, spreading out like a spider's web across the entirety of each surface. It all looked ready to collapse at a moment's notice, and the exit was no where in sight. Even at this pace, it didn't seem like they were even getting close to the University, and their time was running out.

"Jett!"

It was then that the ground fell out from under the unlikely companions and into the cold-rushing water that had suddenly erupted from beneath them.

[Terminally Chill]

“So that’s how it is, huh? A castle or a prophet – desperate people start believin’ in any easy fix.”

Despite her age, Anastasia DeGray managed to boil down the complexity of the Silver Islands’ political and economic turmoil to a bite-sized summary easily digested by the two foreigners. She confidently strutted onward as the four human bulldozers protecting her swatted away any opposition. The rioting presence thinned out the further they retreated from the square, but those sympathetic with the Unfinishista cause continued to attack despite the bodyguards’ massive bulk.

The conversation was surreal, casually strolling through the light haze of rain as though the day’s devastation never took place. The lack of urgency in their gait was bizarre considering the circumstances, but Wyatt’s battered body could hardly walk any faster. If Iskandar was dead beneath a pile of rubble, it didn’t really matter how fast they got to Silver Castle. And if he wasn’t, then the snowy-haired swordsman was still on the hunt and likely to appear at any moment with blue blade blazing. All he and Kinn could do was save their strength and trust in the Kid. Even if he did spend a lot of his time trembling, the bookworm was surprisingly resourceful.

Wyatt’s hand flinched at the hilt with the approach of each fanatic, but the hulking guards were brutally efficient. The irony of a hired sword being protected was not lost on him.

“N’ what side do you fall on in this big mess, Missy?” Wyatt spoke up, wincing as he retrieved a dull silver flask from his duster. Taking a swig of the contents inside, he hoped to ease the pain in his screaming shoulder.

“I just want people to stop blowing up the places I like,” she replied practically, expertly concealing the reminiscent quaver injected into her voice by the earlier destruction of the University Library.

Wyatt couldn’t help but chuckle as he returned the flask to the inside of his jacket. The fiery-haired girl was easy to peg as a Completionist, or at least the daughter of one. He couldn’t tell if her answer came out of the bratty innocence of a privileged child or a true transcendence of the island’s social warfare.

From what Anastasia said, the two sides of the conflict were divided along obvious class lines. The Unfinishistas weren’t some fringe terrorist group, but the disgruntled voice of hardworking people left behind by the times. Folks didn’t like being forgotten. Sympathy to their plight thundered in the form of explosions in more distant parts of the city – the library was only the beginning.

Wyatt was having trouble keeping the different levels of insanity straight, as the brewing civil war wasn’t even what started all of this. There was still the matter of those damn books, the three assassins, the murderous winged swordsman, and the strange shell technology tying them all together... but one shitshow at a time.

The sounds of chaos could be heard rolling across the city to rally the revolt, yet the neat corridor the retinue now walked was eerily quiet.

“The castle is just ahead, right around this corner!” Anastasia couldn’t help but skip enthusiastically as they rounded the corner street, her guards easily keeping pace.

The magnificence of the Silver Castle was not the only sight waiting. A great horde of armed soldiers gathered in the castle’s shadow, police and citizens beaten to submission or death littering the concrete streets. Each proudly displayed a red ribbon on their left arms – the Unfinishista main force.

The destruction of the University Library was not only a declaration, but a distraction.

“I reckon the castle ain't as safe as we were thinkin’...”

“... Their ribbons are pretty cool though, right?”

“Yeah, they're so pretty!”

“Stop.”

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'The Titan Guard, outside the palace?'

'What're the half-giants protecting this far out?'

'They're cut off from the soldiers, now's our time to bring them down!'

'Are you crazy? We don't stand a chance.'

'If not now, then when!? Get them now!'

YUUUUARGH!

'Oh dear.'

The masses that the group had encountered, ten fold the size of anything they found around the library courtyard seemed to muster courage from their numbers as the towering defenders of Lady Degray stomped into direct view of the horde. It even sent a collective chuckle in low bass tones amongst the party addressed as the Titan guard. To them, more numbers just meant larger swings, but the VIP hid amongst their hulking masses would prove hard to defend if they had to focus on protecting themselves. The juggle of making sure people didn't get through and holding their own against a mob slowly took its toll as they became surrounded, the odd straggler crawling between legs or around giant fists only to meet a feisty much smaller opponent, who seemed more than willing to tussle with people twice her size despite them being dispatched by Wyatt and Kinn first.

'Let me at 'em! I'll take 'em all on!'

A tiny war cry heard even amongst the deafening roar of the crowd, leaving a man cowering in fear as he tumbled into the circle and was barraged by kicks to shins.

'Tasia stop brawling?!'
Kinn's body would barely react, narrowly dodging flailing strikes from townsfolk. A desperate look to his swordsman companion saw Wyatt seemingly primed with a plan.

'Comin' through!'

Even the Guard heard the command loud and clear, turning over their shoulders to see him dashing towards them from behind, instinctively opening a path between their joining legs as he advanced. What was initially a full on sprint, a quick hop off the ground had Wyatt's legs locking into place, an all too familiar stance now to Kinn as his feet hit the ground already in position to dish out his strike. The wet cobbles had him skidding between the guards, covering the additional couple of feet without having to break his form... Even the rebels backing up and tumbling over each other out of sheer surprise towards the sliding swordsman. The shriek of the sword was intimidation enough, the clean and even blinding glint of the blade leaving a trail through the air that cut even into the rain itself.

SHHHHHHING!~

While only a pocket of conflict the advance dissapated, Wyatt remained rigid at the end of his full swing, his eyes darting from man to man as the Guard's to DeGray used a moment's rest to reposition themselves, while the swordsman peered off into the crowd. No one seemed willing to step forward or even close, the moment one brave enough went beyond some imaginary line a sudden shift in posture had Wyatt's sword spun from its hilt, ready to unleash another slash and his eyes locked onto the culprit who just as quickly fell back in line. It was for the most part smoke and mirrors, however, a lone swordsman breaching the crowd and becoming a more daunting figure than the giants themselves only lasted a certain time. It was time enough however for the group to coordinate, one of the guard motioning to Kinn and the Lady a pathway, to which she nodded eagerly and motioned for Kinn to follow.

Wyatt stood upright, slowly sheathing his blade as he backpedalled into the newly organised wall of fists the guards had prepared, around the passage, the moment his back turned and the guards closed their formation sprung the tens of cowardly fighter to strike once more in mass against the outnumbered but clearly not outmatched giant opposition.

'That was so cool..'

'Hmph hmph.'

'Everyone just screaming at each other was getting annoying. It didn't help that you joined in either.'

'She started it.' Kinn's childish side glowing through his interactions with the little lady, the lady in question punching him suddenly in the leg before she pressed ahead after being dropped in by the Owlman. Wyatt looked back at their Protection seemingly not following, instead cutting off the passage entirely like a curtain in which the three could make their retreat. 'We're safer going through here, and it means they can start bashin' stuff~' She seemed very passionate about beating people up, whether it was just the other side the bookworm Kinn had met reading before all this went crazy, or that it was just such a normality for fights to break out on the islands was something he'd rather not think too much into. Regardless, Anastasia once again seemed in her element, waltzing through passage and alley like they had been traversed a hundred times before. Wyatt hissing as he rolled his shoulder over and over, clutching at it with his other hand.

'Got any more in you? I sure don't.'
Wyatt glanced over to the limping Kinnatoa, them both chuckling at one another predicaments.

'Another swing like that 'n my arm's comin' off with it.'

Kinn nodded, skipping occasionally to get the weight off his right leg, but seemingly finding no rest in his left either, looking ridiculous as he hopped alongside them.

'.. Feels like we've been fighting for days.' The sudden quiet amongst the trio spoke a thousand words, even DeGray fixed in thought as she occasionally stopped and checked around corners before plotting her next path. Battles between one group and another could be heard from distant skirmishes to right over alley walls and housing that they passed. Though ultimately the landmark spires of the castle over yonder stayed mostly in view, and definitely closer with each twist and turn. All until the Lady peeked in under a sheltered corner, vanishing suddenly from sight, a quick pick up in pace to get back in sight of her quickly seeing her amongst an array of pillows and carpets, organising her giant fur coat to consume her like a blanket as she sat down amongst them.

'I. Am. Pooped.'

It was fair, she had been in this mess for as long as they had this afternoon.. If they were tired, of course a child would be.

'Makes a point, if Iskander gets to the castle it's not like us beating him there is gonna change anything. In this strange alley corner of... comfortable furniture?' The girl was only visible from her fiery hair, slowly submerged and seemingly swimming amongst the cushions before popping her head out to answer the query. 'It's the storage space for an uphol.. Holster..'

'.. Upholstery?'

'Right! That one! We'll be safe here.' And she was gone, back into the depths of housing accessories. The two left at the tide as Kinn idly stared through the downpour and to the castle peaks. Wyatt slowly sliding down the wall side with a heavy sigh. The two looked to one another, the first moment of peace they'd had since the boat trip here, and even then that was mostly sleeping to rest from the conflict before. The madness that had ensued since the library, the twice many more pieces in play over some books? Crazy hired killers, people with wings and flaming swords, two ideals clashing with explosions and steel. It could've all been addressed in the moment's silence, with only the rain to blur out the mania that lay just around the corner. Instead, the two quietly chuckled under their breaths at one another, which said enough.

What the hell had they gotten themselves into.

[Raab]

The water was cold. Freezing, in fact, only adding to the chaos that assaulted Iskandar's senses as he was thrown about the vicious current, bouncing off the stone walls that lined the newfound passage as the water carried him wherever it saw fit to flow. He had completely lost sight of Jett, not that he could see much as he tumbled down the stone-lined hall. Perhaps she had made it to the end of the service way? More likely, in her condition, she too was dragged into the churning waters that were apparently running directly below them. After all that had happened that day, this was fitting; life was tearing people away from him and it paid no mind as to whether they were friend or foe. That was beginning to make itself abundantly clear, and the fact frustrated Iskandar to no end. He was completely powerless to prevent any of the terrible things that had befallen his family and friends, his pride and his passions, and even his own well-being. This was truly his lowest point, incapable of controlling his most basic physical functions enough to gain his bearings and assess his situation.

Thankfully, not all walls are metaphorical.

Slam!

Iskandar's face smacked against the cold, damp stone that halted his advance down the flooded corridor. This allowed him a moment of composure as the water continued to rush around him. At this point, he was beginning to lose what little breath he was able to keep after his sudden fall from the service passage, and as he slowly regained control of his body, he began scrambling his way up the wall in hopes of finding a patch of air to catch his breath with. Fortunately enough, his hands eventually broke the surface of the flowing water and caught themselves on a pair of iron rods. Iskandar frantically pulled himself towards the surface, gasping uncontrollably as soon as he found fresh air. It took the boy a few minutes to recover, hanging limp on the bars of the metal gate, eyes closed in mournful meditation.

The librarian then took in his surroundings. Everything was extremely wet and grimy, and did not look to be well-kept. Iskandar quickly found a walkway lining the water and slowly pulled himself onto the damp, slime-coated floor. As he rose to his feet, he began studying the room further. He seemed to have stumbled into the Silver City's Sewer System, an alliteration he had not expected to visit this evening. There were rumors that a band of pirates had recently destroyed the moat surrounding the Silver Castle and flooded the sewers, which of the many rumors that plagued the city surprisingly turned out to be true. Iskandar was perched near the ceiling of the room, which was set off from the rest of the system by a metal gate that sat at the top of a stone wall that seemed to divert the stream of water deeper into the heart of the sewer. Aside from that, Iskandar was able to double backwards by following the ledge he was standing on, walking against the current of the water and away from the gate.

Unforunately, he wasn't able to make the call himself.

Another tremor shook the room and knocked Iskandar off his ledge and back into the water. At the same time, a good amount of the ceiling collapsed into the room, sending rocks and debris streaming into the water over-top of Iskandar. The weight of the stone forced him deeper into the water, downward and into the surging current once more. Iskandar thrashed as he made his second journey into the sewage river, desperately trying to wrestle himself from the stone that trapped him beneath the water. After a few moments of struggling, Iskandar felt the river make another drop, only this time, out and into a larger room like a waterfall. Iskandar fell through the air, making a large splash in the larger pool of water that sat at the bottom of the larger room. This space looked to be the size of a football field, with a number of tributary tunnels emptying hundreds of gallons of water into the large pool Iskandar was now treading in. The librarian spun his head around, studying the design of the room with a perplexed look on his face.

The room seemed to be the main maintenance passage, with a massive stairway leading away from a central platform that stood about fifty meters above him. Iskandar could only imagine that this was where the University's Waste Management Department deployed their Sanitary Engineers. The sewer system was a major achievement during an older age of the Silver City, and it was well kept by those that honored the technology of the previous generations. It was even upgraded over the years, and remained a luxury for all citizens of the city, That is, until the flooding occurred.

There were also rumors spread that the Unfinishista leader, this "Prophet" so many were moaning about, was being kept down here in some underground government facility. As Iskandar looked around, he could only see massive streams of water pouring from nearly every tunnel. If there was a facility down here, it was surely flooded along with the rest of the system.

So where was the Prophet?

"Hey, you down there! Identify yourself!"

Iskandar's attention immediately turned toward the officer leaning over the edge of the platform above, adorned in the finest of the Silver Police's regalia and accompanied by several others that looked much like him, each of them peering over the railing with rifles drawn.

"We are on the lookout for dangerous terrorists looking to destroy the Castle. Identify yourself or we will be forced to-"

"Iskandar! Iskandar of the University Library. I just escaped the Unfinishista attack and barely made it out alive. Please, take me to Professor Goldwhisker at the University so I can explain to him what happened!"

The officer looked to the other men standing around him for a moment. Without exchanging any words, he nodded, then leaned back over the edge and called out to Iskandar.

"The professor is currently being held at the Silver Castle. We'll take you to see him so that he can vouch for your identity."

Iskandar let out a sigh of relief. At least he was going to get out of this sewer, and into the company of an old friend. Hopefully life would not see fit to steal him from his company too soon.