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P.O.N.Y: Police Operative and Nonpareil Youths

by GodSaveTheKings

Chapters

Chapter 1: Of Humble Origins

Chapter 1: Of Humble Origins

October 3rd, 2015

As the sun began to rise in the October sky, wind blew through the trees, causing them to shudder, and shed their colorful leaves to the ground. The dim light shone down upon the row of houses that lined up on Drawing Road. Each of these houses was filled to the brim with college students, desperately trying to hold on to a few more minutes of sleep before they were forcibly awoken by their sense of moral responsibility. After all, when trying to achieve a goal in life, one must make sure they arrive at class on time. But for now, all that mattered was the fading dreams of sex and fame, and the youths clutched onto them, trying to remain blissfully asleep. This was the behavior of all students living in the houses on Drawing Road. All students, except for one.

One student who studied at a schedule thought to be completely unreasonable by her peers. One student who locked herself in her room with books from the moment class ended, studied all day, and then fell asleep at a reasonable hour. One student who believed that waking up at 5:15 in the morning was waking up fifteen minutes far too late. One student who had made sure her hair was neatly tucked into a ponytail, and her makeup properly applied by the time most teenagers would be fading back into consciousness. The only student who had planned the rest of her life all the way to the end of her days. And now, when she walked around her room, calmly collecting her textbooks and organizing them into easy-to-carry piles, she was always greeted with her first human interaction of the day. Sometimes it came from beneath the creaky floorboards, while other times it came from the other side of the wall, which was covered with pictures of Einstein and Newton. Occasionally, someone had the courtesy to open the door, but it was a rarity. And the while the phrasing was always different, the message contained the same basic idea. And this day was no different, as a voice from beneath shouted,

"Damn it, Sullivan! Could you make any more fucking noise?! Some of us are trying to get some goddamn sleep!"

Tara never understood the need to use such harsh language. She believed that the message would be understood of less profanity was involved, something her peers never quite seemed to grasp. Nevertheless, she finished packing her books, taking fewer steps to avoid the creaking of her wooden floor. Her parents had insisted that she sleep in one of the houses provided for the seniors instead of settle with the rest of the freshmen in the dorms, or fight her way into a sorority. Money may have had its privileges, but it did not help Tara feel less lonely in the house. Once her books were properly put away, she checked over her outfit in the mirror for a fourth time.

Her parents had told Tara to always dress properly, no matter where she went. Even after she turned eighteen and gained her freedom, she never forgot the lessons her parents taught her. She had on a simple white buttoned shirt and a skirt, meant to show her formal side. Due to the cold, windy weather, she also put on a dark blue sweater, which wrapped her snugly in its wool confines. She adjusted her ponytail, and took a long look at the bright pink bangs that were hanging near her face. Though she would never admit it, her dyed hair had grown on her. What started as an attempt to be one with the popular girls at high school had now become one of Tara's most loved features about her appearance. She smiled at herself in the mirror, and then finished her mental checklist.

"Textbooks: check. Proper clothing: check," she muttered to herself, absentmindedly brushing the bangs out of her face. "Purse: check. Thirty-five page essay: check. Gift for Fiona…" Tara looked at the book wrapped nicely in green paper that was lying on her desk. "Check."

The list continued, as Tara accounted for her many assignments for her advanced classes. By the time she was finished, she could hear the sounds of other students shuffling about the house, preparing themselves for another round of classes. Feeling like she was properly prepared, Tara opened up her desk, reached into the drawer, and pulled out a whole grain Energy Crunch Nutrition Bar. She quickly ate her breakfast, grabbed her books, her gift, her purse, and her assignments, and left the house towards the campus.

Tara arrived on the campus of Ymerton College and took a long look around. She could see that students had quickly begun to arrive at campus, meeting with friends and trying to enjoy the autumn weather. But that was of no concern of hers. All she needed to do at this moment was locate her friend somewhere among the campus. Tara began walking about the ground littered with red and yellow leaves, searching under nearby trees for her lost friend. Suddenly, she heard the sound of crunching leaves behind her, approaching at a quickening pace.

That doesn't sound like Fiona, she thought. The crunching was nearing, and she realized only one person would want to talk to her, let alone run to her.

"Hey, Tara," a strong southern voice shouted from behind her. Tara turned around to face the woman who was standing proudly before her, always at attention, her Stetson placed firmly atop her long blonde hair. Green eyes stared back at Tara's brown ones, and Tara found herself talking to one of her best friends.

"Oh," spoke Tara, expressing some slight enjoyment out of seeing someone that she knew. "Hey, Tori. You look rather chipper for someone who doesn't like mornings."

"Well, not as chipper as you always seem to be, despite wakin' up a good few hours 'fore the rest of us," replied Tori with a smirk, as she and Tara began to walk calmly around the campus. "Besides, I finally got a half-decent night's sleep. I really don't know how ya do it, girl. Goin' to sleep at fricken' eight o' clock!"

Victoria Black had been one of the few people at the college that Tara could actually consider her friend. She had run into Tori on the first day of the school year, a time when Tara was spending all of her focus on triple-checking her book supply. After helping Tori with some assignments, the two became good friends. Tori had an unmistakable aura about her, a feeling that transcended to Tara every time they talked, like she felt more confident in herself simply by being in the presence of the southern girl. The two walked across the field in front of the main building, stepping across a league of multicolored leaves as they walked.

"Well," spoke Tara, confidently, "Maybe I can afford to sleep earlier because I don't waste my time with boys or parties."

"Neither do I! I study this stuff for hours!" Tori exclaimed, with a clear tone of annoyance. "Damn, no one can hold onto information like you can, girl. What takes me four hours, takes ya 'bout fifteen minutes, tops."

"Well, I always have had a good memory," Tara rubbed the back of head, taking in the compliment. "Hey, you ever going to take that thing off?" said Tara pointing to Tori's hat. "It's been, like, a month!"

Tori looked insulted, taking one free hand, and stroking her hat with it. She scoffed at Tara, as if Tara had somehow insulted her very soul.

"I'll have you know that this thing is very precious to me. It was a gift to me from my mom. This Stetson is the only thing I got to remember her by." Tori's expression softened, as she looked up at her hat. Her somber mood lasted briefly, however, as she playfully punched Tara in the arm, scolding her. "Now don't you dare insult Winola again, ya here me?"

Tara rolled her eyes at Tori, like a disobedient child being scolded by a parent. "Yes, ma'am," Tara finished her words with a mock salute, playing along with Tori. But after a few seconds, she started giggling uncontrollably.

"Wait. You… named the hat?" Tara tried to stifle her laughter, but was finding that she could not hold her mad giggles in, and soon, she burst into hysterics. Tori's face flushed red, and she turned away from Tara to hide her embarrassment.

"Hey! There's nothin' wrong with namin' things that ya care about!" Tori tried to defend herself, but Tara started laughing even more, holding herself against a nearby tree, as she was getting dangerously close to tears.

"What?! Is it laugh like a laugh dog?! Like a laugh pet?! Hahahaha!" Tara could barely control herself, now leaning fully against the tree for support, as tears rolled down her face. Tori's embarrassment was slowly turning into anger, as she began to shout at Tara.

"Hey!" Tori pointed angrily at Tara's laughing form. "It's not that funny, ya hear?!"

"Oh, it's funny alright! (laugh) In fact, it may (laugh) be the funniest thing (laugh) I ever heard! Hahah- Whoa, hey, what are you doing?!" Tara's laughter was cut short as Tori picked her up and pinned Tara forcibly to the tree. The force at which Tori used was strong enough to rattle most of the leaves left on the tree, sending them fluttering to the ground.

"Alright! Alright! It's not funny! I'm sorry!" Tara begged Tori, as tears continued to fall down Tara's face.

"Yer damn right you're sorry!" Tori yelled back at her, releasing Tara and letting her fall to the ground. Tara finished wiping the tears from her eyes, as Tori picked up a small package that had fallen to the ground. "By the way," Tori continued, her heavy breathing indicating that she was calming down, "Ya dropped this." Tori handed Tara the small package.

"Thanks," said Tara accepting back her package. "I really need that."

Damn it, Tara suddenly thought.

Tara's face went blank, as she realized that speaking to Tori had wasted precious time.

"Oh man," muttered Tara, looking around feverishly. "Tori, have you seen Fiona around here? I was supposed to be looking for her, but I can't find her anywhere!" Tara continued to glance around for her missing friend, but she realized that she was running out of time to give her the gift.

"Fiona…" thought Tori aloud, thinking of the aforementioned girl that Tara was looking for. "Isn't she that girl with the really long pink hair…"

"Yes…"

"…and always wears a hoodie…"

"Yes…"

"…and she has a lot major social problems?"

Tara was practically losing her mind by this by point, just wanting a straight answer to her friend's whereabouts.

"Have you seen her or not?!" Tara shouted at her friend, practically ready to tear her hair out.

"Look behind you," Tori claimed nonchalantly, seeming unaware of her friend's internal struggle. Tara spun around 180 degrees, and spotted a dainty figure sitting quietly beneath an oak tree. Though the girl was clearly wearing a small hood meant to cover her face. However, even without seeing her soft features, Tara could still see the long strands of pink hair falling past the girl's soldiers, clearly giving her identity away.

"Thanks, Tori," Tara quickly said to her friend before rushing off to the oak tree.

"See ya later, girl!" responded Tori, as she made her way into the building complex. Tara slowed her pace as she approached the tree, not wanting to startle Fiona. She slowed down to a calm walk, and carefully prepared a greeting for the shy girl. She walked up next to Fiona, and was pleasantly surprised to see that Fiona had focused all of her attention on a bird some twenty feet away from them. Tara decided to alert Fiona to her presence with a calm, simple greeting.

"Good morning, Fiona," Tara spoke in bliss. Fiona practically jumped out of her skin, her shriek of terror scaring away the bird. Fiona covered her face with her arms, not wishing to see whoever disturbed her. Eventually, she lowered her arms and, while still slightly shivering, recognized the girl who had interrupted her.

"Oh…" Fiona whispered. "H-Hello, Tara. I d-didn't expect to s-see you there." Fiona avoided eye-contact, as if Tara would use her vision to dig deep down into Fiona's chest and tear her heart into pieces.

Tara sighed at the frightened girl, and smiled kindly at her. "It's fine, Fiona. Sorry I scared you."

"You didn't scare me," muttered Fiona. She gulped, and readjusted her bright red hoodie to hide her blushing face. "I just… wasn't expecting to see you right there." Tara kept smiling at Fiona's attempt to be courageous, and extended out the present to Fiona.

"Well, as a token of apology, and our friendship, I decided to give you this," Tara proudly presented the wrapped gift to Fiona, and Fiona nervously reached out towards the gift. But, instead of graciously accepting it, Fiona shook her head, pushing it back towards Tara.

"Oh no," said Fiona. "You didn't have to get me anything. I really don't need it…"

"C'mon Fiona," Tara urged, pushing the present back towards Fiona. "I got this just for you." Fiona once again forced the book back into Tara's hands, refusing the acknowledgement of friendship.

"I couldn't possibly accept anything Tara," Fiona stated shyly. "Don't get me wrong. I'm sure it's lovely and all, but you probably spent good money on that, and I don't want you to waste your money on me, and-"

Fiona was cut short as Tara dropped the gift onto Fiona's lap, and then grabbed Fiona's face, forcing her to keep eye-contact.

"Fiona," Tara said sternly. "Take it." Fiona sighed reluctantly, as Tara let go of Fiona's head with a smile on her face. Fiona took a few seconds to study the gift. She looked at its dimensions, and wriggled it around so she could hear if anything rattled around. After enough waiting, she simply decided to rip open the wrapping and the bow, and to her surprise, discovered a very large book, so massive in size, that it could be used as a weapon of self-defense. On the front cover, a beautiful bird of paradise was showing of its wings, and in large font, read, The Complete Guide to the Wonderful Animal Kingdom. Fiona was left speechless, wondering how Tara had managed to acquire such a fine book.

"I remembered when we met that you said you loved animals," said Tara, beaming with pride at Fiona's reaction. "So, I decided to get you something really special for being a good friend and all, and the animal thing just fit, so… well… here you go!" Fiona had no idea what she should say. It was probably one of the best gifts she had ever gotten, and all for simply being a good friend. Fiona knew she didn't deserve it. She hadn't gone to any sleepovers, or talked for hours about the future, or even really held a long conversation with Tara. But apparently, she was friend enough, for she was now in possession of a book on her favorite topic, that of which she could spend years learning about.

"I… I…" Fiona stuttered, unsure of what to say to the proud girl standing over her. She readjusted her hood, and turned away from Tara, an effort to hide her face. "Th-Thank you," Fiona eventually managed to squeak out. She then stared dreamily at the book in front of her. The two stayed in comfortable silence for a while, before Tara decided that it was time to leave.

"Um…" Tara eventually muttered out, unsure how to say farewell. "Bye, Fiona. Enjoy the book." Fiona gave a slight nod as confirmation, never looking away from the book. Tara walked away from Fiona towards the main building. As she was walking away, Tara looked over her shoulder, and saw Fiona still fixated on her book, never looking away. Tara felt a great sense of accomplishment, as he turned back to face the building.

And immediately collided with someone trying to jog past her.

"Hey, watch where you're fucking going!" The girl next to her exclaimed as they both slowly rose to their feet.

Oh great, thought Tara. Of all the people I could run into, it had to be her, didn't it?

Tara took a long look at the only person on campus that she could honestly say she didn't like. She wore a leather jacket, not because it would keep her warm, but because she thought it would look cool. She got into one of the highest rated colleges in the states, not because of her academics, but because she was the best at any sport she tried. Her speed was legendary, and her nickname became the representation of that. She didn't care about anything rational, like politics, or literature, or even society in general. She disliked everyone, and everyone disliked her. But she reveled in it. She enjoyed the attention it gave her. And to make herself stand out against the rational people, she decided to dye her hair every last color of the rainbow. So when she noticed the academic-focused, straight-walking Tara Sullivan, she wanted to drain every last bit of fun out of Tara's life.

And Tara had just collided with her.

"Hey, what do you know? Its society's perfect fucking princess," she said with a sneer as she stretched out her limbs after the fall. "How are ya today, science tits?"

"You know, Dash," said Tara angrily, picking herself up off of the ground. "I really don't have time for this."

"What? Not a fan of the nickname?" Dash mocked. "Don't worry, babe. I'll find you a nickname someday. How about 'Brainiac'? Or 'Right-Winged'? Or just 'B-I-T-C-H'?" Tara ignored Dash, walking past her in order to get to her classes. Suddenly, she felt Dash grab onto the back of her sweater, and yank her back away from the building, towards the fields from which she came.

"Hey! What are you-" Tara tried to yell in protest, but felt Dash throw her back, causing her to nearly lose her balance. Before she knew what was happening, Dash had wrapped her arm around Tara's neck, and pulled them close together, so Dash could talk straight into Tara's ear.

"Shut the fuck up for a minute, would ya? I'm trying to show you something." Dash took her free hand, and waved it broadly out in front of them, showing of the various students marching around the campus. "Tell me, Tara, what do you see?"

"I see a bunch of students doing what they're supposed to be doing: going to class," Tara angrily muttered to Dash, wishing she could join the students, and not be harassed by crazy teenagers.

"You see, I see something very differently. I see a bunch of people wasting their lives trying to fit in with everyone else. You may be too trapped in your own little fucking fairy tale land to see it, but I can see everything the way it truly is. For example…" Dash glanced briefly around the campus, and spotted a girl fifty yards away. "…her."

Tara looked in the direction Dash motioned to, and saw a girl her age bouncing frantically up and down. Upon closer examination, Tara noticed that the girl was only wearing pink clothing, from her shirt to her socks. Even her short, curly blonde hair had multiple pink streaks running through hair. Then, Tara then realized the girl had a massive smile on her face, and was holding a batch of cupcakes. She bounced her way to various students, trying to sell her goods. And yet, despite the fact that no one was buying any cupcakes, she remained incredibly cheery, and continued to bounce around the campus, her bright blue eyes, which seemed to be too large for her head, only sensing innocence in the world around her.

Dash sighed in annoyance. "You don't get it. That's Pinky Patrikson. The 'sugar' addict. The only sugar she uses will get most people five fucking years in prison. How do you think she gets so hyper?" Dash brought her free hand to her nose, and made a snorting noise against her hand, winking at Tara. Tara looked again at Pinky, noticing how fast she moved around, and how her eyes constantly darted back and forth around the campus. She barely had time to notice, as Dash quickly brought her attention to Chip Larrick, one of the most muscular men on the campus, and the dream of girls of all ages. What he lacked in brainpower, he made up for it in muscle. And it just so happened that he had a lot of muscle.

"Chip Larrick is a bodybuilder and an idiot," claimed Tara, clearly not impressed. "What do you want me to know about him?"

"You think those muscles are real," Dash stated. She chuckled slightly, before continuing on. "Please… his muscles are about as real as my dick. He just trying to get blown to make up for the fact that he's got shit for brains. He's got nothing in life, and he never will have anything. And… Oh, look at that couple!" exclaimed Dash, noticing two people walking out of the corner of her eye.

Tara immediately recognized the "couple". The first was a younger boy wearing girly purple clothes, despite having a contrasting green Mohawk. His name was Spyke, as she recalled, and he was typically a nice boy. Though he didn't say much, he would always be nice to her, such as loaning her textbooks or joining study sessions.

Then there was the girl he was always following around. She, as far as most were concerned, was one of the most beautiful people on the campus, perhaps in the whole country. By any standards, she would have been considered a model, with her confident walk, blooming height, and features equivalent to that of a goddess. On the first day of classes, the two had run into each other, and Tara immediately recognized what she was in for. The girl was addicted to fashion, always having some new dress to wear, or tying her long purple hair into a unique pattern. She had recommended giving Tara a complete makeover, as she was "appalled" by what she saw. Tara hadn't spoken to her since that day, but she was always on the lookout for her. It would not be easy to miss her regardless, as today's choice of fur boots, gold jewelry, and colorful makeup attracted plenty of attention from the male and female students alike, either out of sex appeal or jealousy.

"See, that's Rachel Germain over there," whispered Dash into Tara's ear. "I don't get her. See, she's British, or something fancy like that shit. I can't tell. Anyway, she thinks that she's better than everyone else here cause she dresses fancy and has big tits. But really, she's just an attention whore who doesn't care about anyone. Okay, a regular whore, too. And that poor kid she drags along? He's only there because he wants to fuck her. But she, of course, won't deliver the goods. So he just follows her like a stalker unt-"

"Okay! I've had enough!" Tara shouted before pushing herself free from Dash's grip. Dash seemed genuinely surprised by Tara's outburst, and stopped talking at once. "You wanna know something Dash? I don't really care what you think of all of these people. You are nuts! You may insult everyone else, but we really need these people around us! You know why? Because they prevent people like you from ruling the world and driving us all crazy!" Tara was breathing heavy, fed up with everything she was hearing. But all Dash did was snicker.

"This completely reinforces everything I just said," said Dash with a smile on her face. "You refuse to see anything differently, Tara. I'll give you some advice for the future. Why don't you take that pole that's shoved so far up your ass, and break your own fucking hymen with it. Maybe then, you'll stop being such an immortal bitch and learn to live a little."

Dash punctuated her sentence by flipping two middle fingers into the air and then walking away from the buildings, towards the fields. Tara was sick and tired of all of these interruptions. She realized she was going to be late for class, and grumbled in disappointment. She angrily stomped her way into the Imago building, and made her way towards her first class.

The Imago building was focused primarily on sciences and mathematics, and it was Tara's personal favorite. As she made her way towards her advanced chemical engineering class, she took notice of the time. Even moving at her quickest pace, she would still be late. Tara groaned.

Damn it, Dash, she thought. You just had to interfere with my studies. Again. It seems like all you want to do is make my life miserable.

Still deep in thought, she progressed ever rapidly towards her class, not allowing anything to distract her. Tara was snapped out of her trance by a stern, female voice.

"There you are, Tara. It's not like you to be late," came the voice of her professor, Ms Sherry. She was standing outside of the classroom, a look of confusion on her face.

"I'm really sorry, Ms. Sherry," said Tara, bowing her head in disappointment.

"Come on, now," said Ms. Sherry, a hint of shame in her voice. She knew Tara was better than this, and perhaps she should be kinder to the brightest mind in her class. "Open your textbook to chapter 5, and read the next 50 pages, alright? It shouldn't take you long to catch up to the other students.'

"Of course, ma'am," replied Tara, relief washing over her, calming her mind. She would easily catch up to everyone else in the class. Despite being relatively bright, the other students didn't compare to Tara when it came to pure intelligence. She walked calmly into the room, took a seat, and immediately began her studies. No one really seemed to notice her enter, too busy being invested in the reading. Or at least, that was what they appeared to be doing. Ms. Sherry walked to her desk and began reading sappy love novel she bought off of the internet.

Tara tried to focus on her reading, but her mind found other things to focus on. Her thoughts wandered to her friends, to her conversation with Dash, to her family back home. Her ears heard conversations all around her, even when she wasn't trying to listen. She heard two girls whispering behind her, slightly to the left. Apparently, they used the reading to find time for gossip and texting.

"So, the prick thinks he can sext that slut Alisha and I won't find out about it? Man, I'm gonna spread that shit all over the web…" whispered one girl to the other, her voice holding enough disdain to carry her whispers throughout the room.

"Hope he fuckin' hangs himself, "added the other girl, checking her cell phone hidden in the pages of her textbook. Tara thought she must be have gotten some sort of illness, causing her mind to lose focus and wander around the room. She heard the gentle snoring of one student to her right, and from a distance, she heard a thumping sound. From what she could gather, a student had been listing to music on his headphones, and was tapping to the beat of the song.

Thump

She once again tried to focus on the knowledge in front of her. She took a deep breath, and resumed reading at the top of the page.

Thump Thump

Tara's focus began to weaver again, as she heard more noises coming from within the classroom and from outside. A bird chirped happily by the window, not yet taking a migration to the south. More gossip was picked up by Tara's ears. She was never a fan of gossip. She always disliked the idea of talking about someone when they were not around to hear it. She thought that once she left high school, she would be with intelligent people, who understood such childish things were to be left in the past. But as she experienced, it seemed that she had been mistaken.

Thump Thump Thump

More people had started to take notice of the thumping, looking around the room for the suspect.

"Shut up, faggot," one girl yelled from the corner of the room, annoyed with the ever increasing sound of thumping in room that was supposed to be quiet.

Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump

"Hey, I take great offense to that," another kid joked from the opposite side of the room, earning small chuckles from several of the students. Ms. Sherry glanced up from her book, glaring hard at the students. The chuckles died down, as almost every student returned to reading. Tara was finally glad to gain some peace and quiet.

Good, thought Tara, her mind once again refocusing on reading. Now I can finally figure learn about how Robert Langer discovered his tissue-

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

As the thumping grew louder, it mutated into a persistent banging, echoing off the walls of the room. Ms. Sherry stood up in anger.

"Everyone, stay quiet!" she shouted, dropping her novel onto her desk, her bookmark falling out of place and landing beside the novel. All students looked up at her, some with expressions of embarrassment, other with slight fear.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

The increasing volume helped Tara notice something. As she allowed her mind to fully unwind and take in her environment. And she noticed one very distinct thing about the banging, which helped to calm her mind.

"Um, Ms. Sherry," Tara nervously commented. "That noise is coming from outside." Everyone stopped and listened to the ever increasing banging, ring its way throughout the room.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

Sure enough, the source of the banging was outside, in the halls of the Imago building. Ms. Sherry took a deep breath, and made her way towards the door.

"Probably someone constructing something for advanced engineering," she explained. "I'll see if they can move somewhere else." Ms. Sherry took another deep breath, and put on her best smile for the other college students. She walked out of the door, and calmly shut the door behind her. As if a signal had just been made, the students burst into talks with one another, their chatter filling Tara's ears.

"Man, Stacy is a freakin' 10, man! You gotta nail her…"

"She is such a slut…"

"Yeah, I fucked a professor; what's the big deal…"

The noise was irritating to Tara. She had no interest in hearing the other students' personal lives in such… detail. She tried to block out the talking the best she could, and she silently prayed that Ms. Sherry would walk through the door sooner rather than later.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

The banging had not ceased, which told Tara that she would have to listen to the obsessive babble of teenagers for longer. The banging also seemed to be getting louder. Tara rubbed her temples. At times like these she wished she was back at home. Her parents would be with her, and they could talk for hours in a calm and peaceful manner.

BangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBang

Some of the students took notice of the more frequent pacing of the infernal banging. The students quieted down, while the banging grew ever louder. And was it just Tara's imagination, or was the banging getting closer?

BangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBang

By now the noise was growing near deafening, causing some students to cover their ears. Confusion and curiosity rose in the conversation.

"Jesus, what the hell is that?"

"Maybe the commies have come for us…"

"Where the fuck is Ms. Sherry?"

Although Tara wouldn't like to admit it, she felt a sense of dread cast over her. She was questioning things herself. Where was Ms. Sherry? Surely she should have talked to the noise makers by now. Why hasn't she come back yet? She tried to remain rational and calm. It was just a loud noise, nothing more. Ms. Sherry would be back in any given moment. And then she could study all she wanted in a nice, peaceful environment. Tara's ears perked up when, all of a sudden, the banging stopped.

The door opened up slowly, and Tara, looking down at her textbook, heard the distinctive sound of someone walking through the door. Tara had a sigh of relief, thankful that a sense of order would be restored to the class. Then she looked up, and instantly froze like a dear in headlights.

Ms. Sherry wasn't standing at the doorway. Instead, two muscular men were guarding the door. They weren't wearing any fancy uniforms like the faculty, rather simple street clothes. The men had masks covering their faces, leaving their eyes uncovered. And they were both holding assault rifles.

The room was dead still. No one moved, no one said anything. They just stared at the men in the doorway. The men took a long look around the room, examining everything with watchful eyes. They stopped, and briefly glanced at each other, considering what to do next. Then, they looked back at the room.

Then, they opened fire.

Everything seemed to slow down around Tara. She saw people around her get shot, their bodies crumpling, falling over beneath their seats. Bullets whizzed by her head, narrowly missing her. Despite the rapid gunfire, she heard no noise, just empty silence. She saw people screaming around her, people crying and begging for their lives. Everything held a surreal quality to it, as if she was stuck in some sort of nightmare.

It all made sense to her. She was just dreaming. That's how everything was happening. She was going to wake up in her bed, at a reasonable hour, and go to class, and live her normal life once again. She closed her eyes, expecting to wake up from this terrible dream. Instead, a bullet grazed her shoulder waking her from her dazed state. Her brain kicked into survival mode, as she clutched her shoulder, and she fell beneath her seat. The noise finally rushed to her, and she was blasted with deafening noise.

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG

Blood poured from her wound as pain rushed through Tara's body. Her vision blurred, as tears filled her eyes. It was the most intense feeling she had ever known. She rolled in agony on the floor, only catching brief glimpses of what was going on around her. Suddenly, she felt someone grab her and shake her around. She froze in fear, before she realized she was being shaken by a student.

"Tara, we got to move!"

The student was named Blake, as Tara believed. She had never really spoken to him, but she had caught glimpses of him looking at her from across the room.

"Get up! Now!" She managed to look around the room. The two men were standing over a crying girl, clutching the body of her dead friend. They were reloading their rifles, with their backs turned away from the rest of the class. It provided a very brief opportunity, but even in Tara's injured state of mind, she knew it might be her only chance to survive. Blake helped her to her feet as fast as he could without injuring her. The two men laughed at the crying student, who just minutes before had been complaining about her ex. They talked amongst themselves as one of them effortlessly shot her in the head, splattering blood over the walls. Blake and Tara ran to the door as fast as they could, and ran out of the classroom, down the halls.

"Hey! Come back here!"

Tara heard the cries of the men behind them, realizing that their rapid movement undoubtedly attracted their attention. She heard the sound of Blake's footsteps right behind hers, as she quickened her pace, ignoring the pain running through her arm. As she passed the corpse of Ms. Sherry and turned a corner, she heard the sound of gunfire coming from the other hall. This put her into frenzy, as she sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her, taking every turn, every route possible, in an attempt to escape her pursuers. She was in such a panicked state, she didn't realize that Blake was no longer right behind her, and that she was practically calling out her position with her loud footsteps. She rounded each corner with no sense of caution, and paid little attention to her surroundings. The sounds of gunfire echoed all around her, from every direction, and she became lost and confused as to who she was near. She turned her head and glimpsed behind her as she rounded her next corner, causing her to immediately collide with someone. Tara let out a shriek, believing that she had collided with one of the armed gunmen. But instead, she had run into someone who, on any other occasion, she would be dreading to see.

"Sullivan? Holy fuck, you're alive!" Dash exclaimed almost gleefully, as she helped herself to her feet. Despite the relief washing over her, Tara could see that Dash was terrified by the way her eyes darted around, looking for anyone coming their way. She uncharacteristically grabbed Tara's left arm to help her to her feet, but in the process, caused strain to be put on Tara's shoulder, causing Tara to yelp in pain. Dash looked at Tara's wounded shoulder in surprise.

"Damn, you got shot? I bet that hurts like a motherfucker…" Dash said as she grabbed Tara's other arm and helped her to her feet.

"Dash, what happened to you," said Tara, who was trying to get some understanding out of the situation.

"Shit, I don't know! We're in a fucking massacre! I'm freaking the fuck out! And how'd you get shot?! That seems like the bigger fucking event here," Dash said very quickly, too panicked to slow her erratic speech. Dash was still looking around very nervously, scanning for any other signs of life.

"One thing at a time, Dash," said Tara, clutching her shoulder as she tried her best to ignore the pain. "Tell me everything that you've seen.'

"Well," started Dash, leaning against the nearby wall. "I showed up at class fifteen minutes late, cause I didn't really give a fuck. When I arrived at the door, I saw three tough guys standing in the middle of the room, holding big guns while everyone was hiding under the desk. They kept asking people where they could find balls, or some shit like that."

"Balls?"

"Yeah, that's what they were fucking saying. I don't know why. Anyway, one of the guys saw me and pointed his gun at me," Dash continued, wiping sweat from her brow. "Suddenly, Chip pops up from out of fuckin' nowhere and tackles the guy. So, I bolted from there as fast as I could. I think they shot him. Who the fuck knows…" finished Dash. Tara was studying Dash's story, and if her memory was correct (which it always was), then they had a very big problem on their hands.

"Dash, you said you were fifteen minutes late to class, right," said Tara, the fear growing in her voice.

"Yeah," said Dash, unsure of where Tara was heading with this.

"Well, that's about the same time my room was attacked. Dash, I think there are a lot more guys in this school than we thought," explained Tara, feeling ever more paranoid with the thought of multiple people in the building hunting her down.

"Oh shit," said Dash, trying to hide the fear in her voice. "Wait Tara, how did you get away from those bastards?"

"Blake helped me out. He managed to sneak me out of the room. But I lost track of him as I was escaping…" said Tara.

"Wait…" said Dash, curious. "Blake Jones? Scraggily looking? Meth addict? That guy?"

"Well, yeah…"

Dash muttered something to herself that Tara couldn't quite make out, but it was clear that it was caused by disappointment. "Damn, I think I ran past his body a few minutes ago. Poor fucking ki-"

Click

Tara and Dash froze in place, fear running through them. They both slowly turned their heads to see the source, and what they saw terrified them. One of the armed men was standing before them, his gun trained on the two of them. His face was mostly covered, but Tara could notice that he looked younger than the men who had assaulted her room prior.

"Get against the wall," he said, never taking his eyes off of them. "NOW!" The girls responded immediately, pressing their backs against the nearby wall, making sure not to anger the man. He examined both of them closely.

"State your fucking names," he said. The tone in his voice made it clear that he would not hesitate to shoot them.

"T-Tara Sullivan"

"Rebecca Dawson, man. Don't go fucking crazy now…" Dash said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. The man didn't seem to be affected, instead taking out his cell phone and taking pictures of the two girls. He kept his eyes on Tara and Dash, just in case one of them attempted to attack. But they were exhibiting such fear that the thoughts had never crossed their minds. After waiting for sixty extremely tense seconds, a beeping noise came from the man's cell phone. He carefully looked at his newly received text message, and looked back at the girls.

"Sorry ladies," he said, readying his gun. "Looks like you're expendable." Tara felt her life flash before her eyes as the man put his finger on the trigger. Then, he pulled the trigger.

SNAP

In a flash, two hands reached around from behind the man, and broke his neck in one fluid motion. The man's deceased form crumpled to the ground, as Tara looked at their savior, as she adjusted the Stetson atop her head.

"Tori!" Tara yelled, hugging her friend as tightly as she could. The sheer joy had completely overwhelmed her, which didn't allow her to question why her friend had showed up when she did.

"I'm glad to see that y'all are alright and alive," said Tori, breaking the hug from Tara, and reaching down to the body before her. She began to remove the ammo clips from the belt, his cell phone, and any other item she found in his possession. Tara was very confused. Dash was simply in shock.

"You… you just fucking killed that guy!" Dash shouted, unable to contain herself. "And now you're looting his corpse? What the fuck is going on here?!"

Tara then noticed how dead and empty Tori seemed to be. As if all other parts of her brain had shut off, and she had focused all of her energy into the situation before her. Tori picked up the assault rifle, trying to balance its weight between her hands. After judging it for a few seconds, she tossed it to the ground, and pulled a pistol out of her back pocket. Tara was now the one in shock.

"Tori… what are you-"

"Look Tara," Tori interrupted sternly, her face expressionless. "If y'all want to survive this, I best recommend ya stick close to me. I can explain everything later." Tori proceeded to start jogging down the hallway towards the nearest exit. Tara and Dash stood still for a few moments, still trying to take everything in, before Dash took off in a full sprint after her, with Tara following close behind. Tori had studied the building greatly, and she had the knowledge that they were not far from an exit. But as she came to the first corner, she skidded to a halt. Dash and Tara slowed down as Tori pressed herself to the wall.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Dash eager to escape. Tori shushed her, and instructed them both to listen. Multiple sets of footsteps were rapidly approaching towards the hall. Tori readied her weapon as Tara and Dash crouched down against the wall, ready for whatever came through. Tori peered around the corner, trying to glimpse what was coming towards them. Suddenly, a bright pink flash zoomed around the corner, passing by the girls without ever noticing them.

"Ha Ha!" said the flash. "Catch me if you can, suckers!" The pink-wearing girl continued to sprint down the hallway, as three armed thugs came around the corner. The first two passed by the girls without any interference, but Tori had prepared for the third. As he came around the bend, Tori grabbed onto his rifle, and using his forward momentum, threw him into the nearby custodian's closet, stealing his gun in the process. As his comrades turned around to see the cause of the commotion, Tori effortlessly aimed the rifle, and fired two bursts into the men, taking them down. Tara stood shocked at Tori's display, while Dash focused to the girl still running away from an imaginary threat.

"Hey, Pinky!" It's me, Dash! Stop running, you crazy bitch!" Dash called out to Pinky, who was sliding to a stop at the end of the hall. Pinky turned around fast, and, recognizing Dash, put a large grin on her face.

"Hiyah, Dash!" Pinky called out happily, completely forgetting the threat that she was faced with merely seconds ago. In a few moments, she had run up to the others, hopped on Dash's back, and recounting the tale of how her morning had changed from a failing bake sale to an exciting chase scene.

"Man you won't believe the morning I had, what with the crazy guys chasing me and all, I mean like I was just sitting there like, 'man I wish I could sell these cupcakes', and suddenly these tough guys walk up and are like,' ugh, we are big and scary, fear us,' so I threw the cupcakes at 'em and I just ran and ran and ran and ran all around the campus and it was really fun and exciting and they were really fun to hang around with even if it was for just a few short minutes but it was really fun while it lasted and the best part was when I was running an-"

"Shut up already, you psycho bitch!"

Everyone turned and looked at the third goon rising up in front of the custodian's closet. He was holding his head with one hand and a handgun with the other, pure rage spread across his face. "I'm gonna fucking kill you, you loudmouth whore!" He raised his gun, when suddenly the door behind him swung open, and a blunt object struck him across the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. Everyone stopped and stared at the girl standing in the doorway. A look of terror was plastered on her face, and she held a large nature book in her hand unsteadily, as she was shaking with fear. She kept looking down at the unconscious man, which caused her to jump when Tara suddenly hugged her.

"Oh god, Fiona! Your safe!" Tara exclaimed, releasing the shivering girl from her hug. But after the initial shock wore off, Tara immediately became confused. "Wait… why are you in a janitor's closet?" Fiona began to blush, and hid her face behind her hood as she struggled to explain herself.

"W-Well, y-you see, I… um… heard some loud noise coming down the hall on my way to class, and I… um…" Fiona turned away from her friends to hide her shame. "I… hid in the closet." Dash immediately started to laugh.

"So…you didn't even see any of the killers, and you hid in the freaking closet regardless?" said Dash, barely containing her laughter. "Jesus, you're a fucking coward!"

"Hey, I'm not that brave, okay," said Fiona, trying to defend herself, despite more blood rushing to her face. "Besides, it gave me time to catch up on reading…if it wasn't so gulp dark…" Dash began to laugh even more, before Tori harshly punched her in the shoulder.

"Ow…"

"Now's not the time for this. Girls," Tori looked at Pinky, who had been cheerily bouncing up and down in place, and Fiona, who had still been looking worriedly at the unconscious man before her. "I recommend you stick with us from now on. We're almost out, ya hear." Fiona and Pinky nodded, and Tori continued to rapidly move towards the exit, keeping an eye out for any more attackers or students heading their way. Dash and Pinky ran after her, but when Tara tried to move ahead, Fiona stopped her.

"Fiona, come on, let's go…" said Tara, trying to walk towards the direction the others were headed.

"I-I'm really sorry, Tara," said Fiona, motioning to her nature book, which had now been stained with blood. "I know you worked hard for it, and I-'

"Fiona now is really not the time for this," interrupted Tara, shaking Fiona's shoulders. "We can talk about this later." Tara started to run towards the others.

"But-but what if there is no 'later'? What if this is it?" said Fiona, her voice shaking with fear. Tara halted in her tracks, grimaced, and turned around to face Fiona. The introverted girl seemed to understand the situation before her, and it rattled her to the core. She tried her best to sound reassuring, but in reality, the very same terror was flowing through her thoughts as well. She placed her hand on Fiona's shoulder.

"There will be a 'later'. I promise," Tara said, although in truth she doubted herself very much. But it seemed to be enough, as Fiona nodded in response. Suddenly, Fiona noticed the blood running down Tara's arm, and she became very frightened for her friend.

"Are-are y-you okay? Did someone hurt you?" said Fiona, suddenly feeling very worried. Tara quickly turned away.

"I'm fine," Tara lied, once again moving toward the others. "Come on, we gotta keep up." They both started to dash down the corridors. They had not fallen too far behind, but they were far enough away that Tara could not hear the conversation the other girls were having.

"So… who are these guys anyway?" said Pinky, oblivious to the greater situation at hand. "And why are they trying to destroy all the cupcakes?"

"They're not," sad Dash, annoyed by Pinky's ignorance. "We're in a fucking school shooting. A bunch of shitheads are trying to cause a fucking massacre. Get that through your drugged up head."

"This ain't no massacre, Dash," said Tori finally reaching the exit to the fields. "This is a damn assassination attempt."

"What the hell are you talking about?" questioned Dash.

"Never mind, I'll explain it if we survive this nightmare," said Tori, opening the door, and allowing Dash and Pinky to step through. Tara and Fiona followed close behind, and soon, all five girls were out in the open fields of the campus. They all stuck close to the building, looking out for anyone crossing by. They could see no one, but they still felt uneasy.

"Okay y'all," said Tori, looking around once more. "I parked my car over on the other side of the field. Now I don't see nobody around, so I think our best choice of action is to make a run for it, and hope for the best."

"That's your plan of action," said Dash. "That could get us all killed!"

"Well, if you don't think you can run fast enough to get out of here, then suuuure, it's a problem," taunted Tori. Dash snarled at her, and then without warning, followed her namesake and dashed across the field, with everyone else following behind her.

"Tori, why don't we just go to my place?" Tara said to Tori as they struggled to keep up with Dash.

"Trust me, Tara. We need to get as far away from here as possible. It's the only way you're gonna survive," responded Tori, looking around her as she ran and quickened her pace. They didn't appear to be attracting any attention. Eventually, they managed to reach the end of the fields, and Tori turned sharply to the left, heading towards a car parked on the side of the road, away from the central parking lot. The rest of the girls followed close behind, excluding Dash, who, since running ahead of everyone, accidentally turned towards the parking lot. Despite this, she realized her mistake, and quickly caught up to everyone else. As Tori approached her car, she noticed something wasn't quite right. Most notable was that she spotted two figures standing around her vehicle. As they drew closer, Tori saw that they were two students, one male and one female. They were nervously looking around for attackers. And it looked like they were trying, unsuccessfully, to break into the car.

"Hurry up, Spyke!" Rachel Germain shouted at her friend, who was trying to use a stick to pry open the window.

"I'm trying, alright!" he shouted back, getting frustrated and throwing the stick to the ground. "We wouldn't have to hijack this thing if you would just drive like a normal person!"

"I told you I can't drive on your backwards-ass roads!" shouted Rachel in defense, her accent becoming more prominent with her anger. "No sensible person can drive on the right side of the damn road!"

"Hey! What do y'all think your doin'?" Tori shouted at the pair, who jumped at the sound of someone approaching them.

"Oh…"said Rachel, unsure of what to say as the four girls caught up to Tori. "Is this… your car?"

"Yeah, it is! What, were ya gonna try and steal it?" said Tori accusingly.

"Hey, it's not fault that Miss U.K. over here can't drive," said Spyke backing away from the car. "Besides, this an emergency! We gotta get out of here."

"Um, guys," said Fiona, trying to gain the others' attention.

"You tried to steal my car!"

"We are trying to survive!"

"Tori, I think we need to go," said Fiona, trying to stop the growing argument.

"Get out of the way," screamed Tori.

"No," screamed Rachel. "We need to get out of here too."

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG

Bullets whizzed by them, narrowly missing their targets. In a panic, the girls dove for the only cover close enough to them: Tori's car. Using the car for cover, Tori pulled out her gun and prepared to return fire. Fiona, Tara and Rachel covered their ears from the noise of gunfire. Spyke slowly peered his head around the edge of the car.

"There are four guys!" he shouted to Tori over the sound of gunfire. He continued to look around the corner, giving Tori details to their locations. Tori quickly leaned around the corner and fired five quick shots, none of which hit their targets.

"Damn," said Tori, reloading her pistol. "They're too far away! I can't hit them."

"Well, keep trying," shouted Spyke. "Otherwise, we'll be-" Spyke was cut off as a stray bullet connected with his temple, exiting through the other side of his skull, taking some of his brains with. Some of the girls screamed. Rachel covered her mouth and turned away, unable to handle the sight. She wanted to scream, but the only thing she felt was a feeling of pure fear, worse than anything she had ever felt, running through her veins. Tori was trying to figure out a way to get in range of the men. Pinky, however, was tired of hiding.

"Oh, for goodness sakes. GIMME THAT!" Before Tori knew what was happening, Pinky had swiped the gun from her hands, and had now stood up over the car, exposing herself completely.

"Wait, Pinky, what are you," Tori tried to stop her, but instead Pinky fired four rounds, and all of a sudden, the gunfire stopped. Fiona and Tara uncovered their ears, and Tori looked over the car. She spotted four bodies lying on the ground some one hundred feet away from them, blood flowing from their corpses. Tori looked at Pinky with amazement.

"How did you do that?" asked Tori, rising to her feet.

"Oh that, that was nothing," Pinky said cheerily, despite the murders she just committed. "See my father was a cop and he had this huge gun collection and sometimes he let me use them, which was really really fun, and so over the years I've just gotten really good, I suppose, although I don't really see what the big deal is about it, it just always kinda felt natural to me, you know what I mean." Tori tried her best to pick out the details from Pinky's nonsensical babble. She helped the other girls to her feet, opened the car door, and slid into the driver's seat. Tara walked around the side of the car, doing her best to avoid looking at Spyke's body, and slipped into the passenger's chair. The other girls squished themselves into the back of the car, which barely held them. Rachel stayed on the ground, unable to move from the shock of seeing her friend die before her. Tori looked down to Rachel.

"You want to come along, dear?" Tori asked kindly. Rachel had very few options. She didn't know where she could go, and she knew that if she stayed, more people could come after her. She slowly stood up, and with some effort, forced her way into the back of the car, which had now become very cramped and uncomfortable. Tori started up the car, and drove away from the college, gunshots still ringing throughout it halls.

They drove for what seemed to be hours. No one spoke; no one asked where they were headed. Most of them were just thinking over the events of the past few hours. None of them appeared to be thinking about it though. Pinky sat in the corner, smiling away as if it were Christmas Eve; Fiona sat hunched over holding her blood-stained nature book; Dash wriggled around uncomfortably, trying to get more room; Rachel stared out the window, an empty look in her eye.

But Tara thought about it. It almost seemed to be not a big deal. She had just seen over a dozen people die before her eyes, but she treated it as just another everyday occurrence. Her arm was had a bullet inside of it, but to her, it felt like no more than a scratch. Several people who she considered friends were dead, but they only seemed like minor problems. She wanted to feel sympathetic, but she simply wasn't.

However, maybe that was due to the fact that so many things were unanswered, and the great mystery took up the majority of her thoughts. Why were they attacked by so many people? How had Tori gotten a handgun? Where were they being taken? Tara thought about these questions for most of the drive, until she noticed they were headed towards a city. Tara read the exit signs, and discovered that they were headed towards Philadelphia.

"Philadelphia?" asked Tara to Tori, who was driving through the streets of the city. "Why are we here? We're about two hours away from Ymerton."

"You'll see," assured Tori, driving past many office buildings as they headed towards their destination. As they traveled further, Tara noticed that the quality of the buildings decreased, and the streets were becoming less and less populated, something which Dash took no time in pointing out.

"Jeez, are you trying to take us to the shittiest part of the city?" asked Dash, noticing that the car was starting to get glared at by the populace. "You might want to keep that gun handy."

Tori continued to drive for a few more blocks until she saw her destination before her. She pulled to the side of the road, and parked in one of the may empty spots alongside the street. She opened the door and stepped out, beckoning everyone else to do the same. As the girls in the back attempted to untangle themselves, Tara looked at the store they had pulled up to. It appeared to be a small restaurant, with a simple banner above the store.

Wu Song's Chinese Restaurant

It seemed peculiar to Tara. Tori said that they were going to a safe location. But why here? She supposed that it would be a place no one would expect them to be, but it just seemed bizarre.

"So, why have you taken us all the way across the city to this place, Miss…"stopped Rachel, forgetting the name of her southern acquaintance.

"You'll see," once again spoke Tori, not bothering to tell Rachel her identity.

She won't need to know it soon, thought Tori, a smirk now on her face. Tori entered the establishment, and motioned for the others to follow her. The door rang when Tori stepped inside, and she walked up to an elderly Chinese man sitting behind the counter.

"Howdy, Mr. Chen," Tori greeted happily, and the man kindly nodded in response. After she heard the sound of the five girls enter the restaurant and close the door behind them, Tori turned to face the girls, her face showing slight regret. "I'm really sorry about this, ladies."

Suddenly, everything went dark. Tara had no idea what was happening. She heard multiple people moving all around her, her friends crying out in fear, and she felt people grabbing on to her. She felt her feet leave the ground, and something was placed over her head, as she could now tell. She heard arguments from the others, protesting the movement. But all she could see was black. Then suddenly, the light returned.

When Tara's eyes had finally adjusted to the light, she saw that she was sitting at a large, gray, rectangular desk. Around her were gray walls, with one wall containing a large mirror. Then she noticed that sitting next to her were Pinky, Fiona, Dash, and Rachel. She looked around for Tori, but couldn't find her anywhere.

"Okay, what the holy fuck is going on here?" asked Dash, looking around the room for an exit. All she found was a large gray door, which appeared to be locked from the outside.

"I have no idea," responded Rachel. "But it is in the need of some serious redecorating.

"Maybe we're in some kind of freaky alternate dimension, where the entire world is just one small gray box!" exclaimed Pinky, letting her active imagination run wild.

"I'm afraid the truth is far less exciting," suddenly came a deep voice from the doorway. A large man was standing under the door, holding multiple files under his arm. He was wearing a military uniform, and had a sincere smile on his face. He calmly walked over and sat at the table, light shimmering off of his silver hair. "Sorry about that little 'ambush' back in the restaurant. We gotta make sure there are no gaps in security." He smiled at each of the girls. They seemed to relax a little more. "My name is General Anthony Wilson, United States Government."

He held out his hand for any of the girls to shake it. But only Tara grabbed onto his hand.

"Hello, sir," she greeted him with a firm handshake. "Tara Sullivan. My brother is in the marines," she added.

"Glad to hear it, ma'am," he responded cheerfully.

"Hold up," said Dash, still very much confused. "What are we doing here? Where is here? And where the fuck is Tori at?"

"If y'all are looking for Tori, ya won't find her," came a voice from the doorway. Tara looked up and saw Tori casually leaning against the doorway, adjusting her hat.

"Tori, there you are!" said Tara, glad to see her friend.

"Not exactly," said the General, leaning back in his chair.

"What are you talking about?" said Rachel, very confused. "You're standing right there."

"Yes," said Tori. "But Tori isn't. Victoria Black doesn't exist."

"What do you mean?" asked Fiona, who had mostly remained out of the conversation until this point.

"Ladies," said the General, rising and standing next to the girl in the doorway . "I'd like to fully introduce to introduce you to one of our top undercover agents, Miss Anna-Jean Balle."

Anna-Jean tipped her hat to the girls at the table, who all stared at her with their mouths hanging open.

"Whoa! Whoa! Hold up there cowgirl! I'm really fucking confused here. You're a spy?!" said Dash who was trying to understand everything thrown at her. "Just what else did you lie to us about? Is that your real age? Your real face? Your real tits? I… I just can't… UGH!" Dash slammed her head down on the table, feeling extremely confused. "Motherfucker…"

Anna-Jean sat at the table and began to explain everything. "Let me try to explain. Look, most of the stuff I told you was at least partially true. I haven't been wearing any disguises or nothing, and I really am just eighteen. But, I've been training as a government agent since I was five." Anna-Jean waited for any questions, but none came. So, she simply continued on.

"I've been working undercover assignments my whole life. My most recent one was what brought me here. The government picked up Intel that suggested a potential terrorist threat had infiltrated Ymerton College. So I was given a two part assignment. One: Infiltrate the school as a college student to investigate the truth of a possible terrorist threat."

"Did you find anything?" asked Tara, intrigued. Anna-Jean shook her head.

"Not really," she replied truthfully. "Anyway, I had the second part of my assignment: Find and note possible recruits for the P.O.N.Y. Initiative."

"P.O.N.Y?" asked Fiona.

"It stands for Police Operative and Nonpareil Youths," said General Wilson. "It's part of a hypothesis that younger minds could be more adept at handling threats. Miss Balle here is living proof of that."

"I was supposed to find if any students had the potential to complete tasks necessary to the safety of the country," added Anna-Jean, before she hung her head in shame. "But I must have alerted someone to my activities. So they sent trained soldiers to come kill me."

"Wait," said Dash. "Are you trying to tell us that the entire raid today happened because some guys were trying to kill you?"

Anna-Jean nodded.

"That sounds like the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard in my life," Dash groaned. "There is no chance in hell that you are that special.

"I'm special enough to save your lives," AJ stated. "I could'a left y'all to be shot dead if I wanted to, but I brought ya here, didn't I?"

"Which brings us to why you're here," said Wilson, approaching the table. All of the girls' eyes were fixed on him. "We want you to join the P.O.N.Y.'s."

The news came as relatively shocking. None of them had combat experience, and they all panicked during the shooting. None of them saw how any rational person would ever choose to perform such an operation. That in itself was the precise reason why a voice suddenly spoke up.

"I'm in," said Dash, who was immediately met with protest from her peers.

"Are you crazy?"

"It's suicide."

"Think about this, will you?"

"Seriously, hear me out," said Dash, who had now risen from the table and started walking around the room. "How could you not do it? Going around the country, kicking ass and taking names. It sounds like it's the best thing that could ever happen to us. I mean, Pinky, you get a chance to do that crazy gun shit."

Pinky hadn't really considered it, but she supposed it did give her a chance to improve her gunmanship.

"And Rachel, you can avenge Spyke's death by kicking his killers' teeth in." Rachel thought about it. Avenging Spyke's death seemed like a good reason to gain revenge.

"Fiona, you got to do it. After all, you won't let the whole world down now, would you?" continued Dash, gaining more confidence in her decision.

"The-the whole world?" Fiona gulped, suddenly feeling an insurmountable amount of pressure.

"So how about it, girls? You ready to kick some ass?" said Dash proudly.

"Hell Yeah!" screamed Pinky, high-fiving Dash as hard as she could.

"Alright, I'll do it. For Spyke's sake," said Rachel. Fiona nervously looked around, and slowly nod her head to Dash, signaling that she was going to join. Everyone turned to look at Tara, who was the only one out of all of them to not join yet. Tara thought about hard. All of her friends were doing it. And it was to save the world, which made it extremely important. Tara finally reached a conclusion, and spoke her answer loud and clear.

"No."

Anna-Jean's face dimmed, as Tara continued on. "No way. You people are all insane. You're just going to give up your lives and go fight bad guys with zero experience. You'll get slaughtered. Besides, I have a life to live. I have my future planned out already. And I am not sacrificing it to go play superhero."

Anna-Jean sighed, and stood up from the table.

"Tara, could I speak with you for a moment?" Anna-Jean reached out her arm, and Tara grabbed hold of it.

"Sure," she replied, following Anna-Jean out of the room. It was only then that she noticed that her arm had been bandaged, the bleeding stopped and the blood removed. It was probably repaired in the darkness by some medical personnel. Anna-Jean began to whisper to Tara.

"Look girl, I didn't really want to say anything in front of the others, but you need to join us."

"I already told you, I'm not risking my life when I have a life to go back to," whispered Tara, trying to very strongly get her point across. Anna-Jean once again sighed.

"Tara, ya don't understand. Y'all are already in danger," AJ said softly.

"What do you mean?" Tara asked, curious.

"Why do you think the cops never showed up to the college?" AJ asked. Tara pasued, never having truly thought about it before.

"Um…" Tara could not think of an explanation.

"It's cause the footage was jacked. The attackers have seen us together, they know we are associated," Anna-Jean forcefully told Tara. "Now you're a target, and your family's a target."

Tara tried to process this information, and when she did, it truly frightened her.

"Y-You mean that-"

"Yeah," interrupted Anna-Jean. "You're in grave danger whether you like it or not. The only thing that matters is what you decide to do about it."

Tara realized the gravity of the situation. It was too late for her. She would be hunted down like an animal until they found her. But if she joined the others, at least she might have a chance to stop it. Tara sighed, and looked at Anna-Jean.

"Can you promise me something?" started Tara. "Can you promise me that you'll keep me safe through thick and thin, no matter what happens?" Both Tara and Anna-Jean knew it was a promise that could not be made. But Tara thought that maybe if she promised, by some magical reasoning, everything would turn out okay. Anna-Jean stayed silent for a long while, before holding her hand out to Tara.

"I promise that nothing bad will happen to you, Tara. So help me God."

"Well then, Miss Balle," said Tara, shaking Anna-Jean's hand. "It looks like you've got yourself a new recruit."

"Please, call me AJ," AJ said with a kind smile.

"Okay then AJ," said Tara, releasing her grip. "When do we start?"

__________

All that was present in the dark room was a round table. It wasn't a fancy table, made of any rare materials. Just simple lumber, from an unknown tree from an unknown place. But it was a very important table. For this was where the High Council met. They never saw each other's faces, opting to wear masks or face paint, for secrecy was of the highest importance. And today, the High Council met with great disappointment. For on this day, a school shooting took the lives of one hundred and thirty-four college students.

Instead of one hundred and thirty-five.

And the council went into great argument over this, because out of the five members, two female and three male, no one knew who to blame.

"Your plan was a failure, Sombra," spoke one of the female members. "All you had to do was kill one teenage girl, for Christ sake's."

"The King holds no fault," said Sombra. "You're the assassin, Moon! You should have taken her out."

"But you funded the soldiers," Moon fought back with a sneer. "Besides, the entire plan was idiotic. Back in Germany, we killed our targets by stealth. We should have sent Chrysalis in there. She could kill her quick, but she is just a lazy bitch."

"Don't drag me into this, Moon!" shouted the other woman, Chrysalis. "Don't try to blame this on me. You are incompetent and-"

"ENOUGH!" screamed the highest member of the council, who had grown tired of the bickering amongst his underlings. "This was a plan invested by all of us! So we all hold the blame!"

Silence grew around the table.

"Now," screamed the councilman. "We have a bigger problem to attend to. Not only has the agent escaped, but she left with allies. This could grow detrimental to our plans.'

"Please," said Sombra, fixing the large crown he wore atop his head. "They're just little kids. They stand no chance to the King." He puffed on his cigar, enjoying his stature.

"Don't grow overconfident, Sombra," replied the head of the council. "I know a problem when I see one."

"So what do you want to do about it?" said Moon.

"Why not let me take care of 'em," said a voice at the end of the table. The attentions of the others were drawn to the newest member of the High Council. He had not been part of the argument, opting instead to just twirl his colt revolver around his finger. "Let me prove myself, boss. I'll wipe those motherfuckers off the face of the Earth."

It seemed like a fair deal; give the rookie a chance to prove his worth to the cause. It was a chance that the High Council could not pass up.

"Okay, Discord," said the highest councilor. "Don't disappoint us.'

Discord hopped to his feet, and immediately bowed to his peers.

"Don't worry, sir," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "I'll take care of these meddling kids for you. Just like in the old cartoons."

"Just how do you intend to do that?" asked Sombra.

"Please Sombra, we're terrorists," Discord said, quickly pulling out his revolver and firing six shots randomly at the wall. Then he started to laugh, sheer joy rushing through him. He turned back to Sombra with a menacing grin.

"I'm going to fucking terrorize."

End of Chapter 1

Chapter 2: The First Steps (Training For A Better Tomorrow)

Chapter 2: The First Steps

Part 1 of 2: Training For A Better Tomorrow

October 4th, 2015

Slumber came far more easily than anyone expected. Despite the bizarre circumstances surrounding their current predicament, including a school massacre, being recruited by a government agency, and now being forced to sleep in the tight confines of a hastily prepared bedroom, dreams and bliss filled each of the girls' minds. Although, Tara herself was quite confident that General Wilson had slipped something into the donuts that were served as a makeshift dinner. But for now, she was contempt, as her dreams consisted of her bright future, and not nightmares of the horrific incidents she had recently faced. And that seemed like it would last for a very long time.

Suddenly, alarm bells sounded in the room, startling everyone from their slumber. Tara's eyes shot open, as she groggily managed to hoist herself to her elbows.

"Rise and shine, ladies," AJ's voice called out from the doorway. "Time to start the training."

"Jesus fucking Christ, what time is it?" said Dash rubbing her eyes.

"Just past three," AJ replied.

"Three what?" asked Pinky, who seemed to be relatively happy despite waking up so early that her voice had not yet risen to its higher pitch, making Pinky sound far more mature than she actually was. She yawned. "Like, is it something cute, like three puppies, or something scary, like three vampires, or is it-"

"More like three a.m.," said AJ, crossing her arms.

"3 A.M.?" said Rachel, sounding like it was the worst news she had ever heard. "Oh no, I simply cannot wake up this early! I need beauty sleep."

"Does that include sleeping around with guys, too? Cuz that would sure explain a lot," chimed in Dash, who snickered at her own joke. Rachel growled at her.

"Well, I guess that would involve men being attracted to me, something you obviously have never experienced," Rachel jabbed back, priding herself on her clever response. Dash pointed angrily at her.

"Hey, don't piss me off when I wake up," snarled Dash. "I'm just as annoyed and cranky as you are. Speaking of which," Dash turned towards AJ. "Why do we have to get up so fucking early?"

"You girls are grossly underprepared for what lies ahead," said AJ. "It takes years of training to reach the experience and skill of a soldier. But we don't really have a lot a time, because we got ourselves a threat right on top of us. So we gotta speed train you."

AJ briefly walked out of the room, and when she returned, she was holding a pile of clothes, which she tossed onto a pile in the center of the room. "Change into these, and then meet me outside in a minute."

AJ walked out of the room as, one by one, the girls finally got out of their beads, and grabbed the articles of clothing. Tara picked up some clothes, and noticed something was off about the clothes she was told to wear. Unless she was mistaken, the only things to wear were white tank tops and some very small gray shorts. While they seemed like normal exercise outfits, Tara noted that it was early October, and the clothes would not provide nearly sufficient warmth for the autumn weather. Nevertheless, each of the girls found their own respective to change in. Rachel was complaining to herself in the corner.

"I can't believe they expect me to wear this bloody thing…" she muttered to herself. She believed that woman of her standards should never be forced to wear such unflattering clothes. They had not taken along any possessions with them, which left Rachel without any of her makeup, or an assortment of proper attire. In fact, none of the girls had really been prepared for this. As far as they could tell, the only clothes they would be able to wear would be whatever they were supplied with on that day. And this thought worried Rachel greatly, much more than any true threat of danger.

The girls quickly finished changing and walked out of the room. AJ was standing there, calmly waiting for them. She beckoned them to follow her down a corridor towards an unknown location. Tara had not really seen much of their new home since she had arrived. She had seen only the room she had arrived in and her sleeping quarters, which led her to wonder how big the underground base could possibly be. AJ led them further down the halls, taking occasional turns, and passing several doorways along the way. Rachel uncomfortably adjusted her clothes.

"Is there really nothing else that we could wear, AJ? It's just that these clothes aren't quite…comfortable for me," Rachel spoke. She once again squirmed around in her shirt, which appeared to be too small for her. Dash snickered to herself.

"Yeah, when you get giant-ass breast implants, you're gonna have a hard time fitting into normal shirts," Dash muttered under her breath. While Rachel was a few feet ahead of her, and didn't hear the remark, Tara heard the comment clearly.

"Hey, leave her alone, Dash," said Tara quietly, trying not to attract the attention of the others.

"Hey, Spark, why don't you mind your own fucking business for once, huh?" Dash said. Tara was puzzled.

"Spark?" Tara questioned.

"Yeah," said Dash, shrugging. "That's my new nickname for you. Came up with it last night. I'm quite proud of it."

"But, why Spark?" asked Tara.

"Simple. You remind of lightning. Really loud and annoying." said Dash simply, ignoring the glare she was receiving.

"That doesn't even make sense," said Tara, very annoyed. "Lightning itself is silent. Thunder, which I'm sure you are poorly trying to refer to, is the sound of the sound barrier breaking. You could have gone with 'Shockwave' or 'Charge', or better yet, just call me by my actual name." Dash simply shrugged of Tara's comments, and grinned.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stick with Spark. Just feels right. Plus, it also sounds like something you'd name a dog, which makes perfect sense, since you like following orders so much. Woof woof, motherfucker," Dash stated. Tara felt like slapping Dash in the face. She hoped her rational side would allow her to keep calm. She promptly decided to ignore Dash, who continued to grin to herself.

"Now all I gotta do is come up with new names for everyone else. Pinky's and AJ are pretty much covered, but I need to think of something for Fiona and Rachel." Dash continued on as if Tara was still holding on to every word. Before they knew it, AJ had opened a door, and the girls were stunned at the sight before them. They were staring at an incredibly large gym area, which seemed to be stocked with more equipment in one room than Tara had ever seen at any of her private schools. In the center of the room was an entire track, which fit an entire swimming pool inside its center. Along the side of the track was enough exercise equipment to fill an entire gymnasium. A firing range was set in the corner, which Pinky nearly drooled over. A large set of weapons were laid out by the firing range. Pinky tried to run over to them, but AJ halted her in her tracks. Fiona asked the question that was settling on everyone's mind.

"How did you get all of this?" Fiona asked shyly, looking around the massive room.

"Government funding can sure do wonders, cant it?" replied AJ, who was admiring the room. She turned to face the girls, a more serious look on her face. Now, I'm going to be honest with y'all. I'm not entirely sure what level of shape each of you is in, so I'm just gonna make you run some simple drills. Ya ready." The girls nodded in response. "Good, now sprint around that track about 40 times."

Dead silence filled the room, as the girls gaped at AJ, who was looking confused, clearly unaware of the difficulty of the task.

"F-forty times?" asked Fiona in disbelief.

AJ considered her disbelief, and then added, "Better make it fifty times." The girls groaned in despair, except of Dash, who seemed to be too busy scratching leg to care.

"Hey, times a wastin'! Get to it!" yelled AJ, acting like a drill sergeant rather than a teenage girl. Begrudgingly, the girls started their lengthy run around the track. "AND SPRINT, LADIES! WE GOT TO GET YOU IN SHAPE!"

Tara had never considered herself out of shape. She had always eaten healthy, even when she was presented the opportunity to lose herself in the sweet store located on campus. She occasionally worked out at the gym, but these were infrequent, as she needed more time to read. But she always thought she could physically outperform most of her peers. Which is why she felt particularly embarrassed when after simply 7 laps, she had to stop in her tracks. She was panting heavily, resting her hands on her knees. She tried to catch her breath, but her chest refused to expand. She fell to her knees, now coughing, and tried to rest. She looked around her, and noticed that the others were not doing any better than she was. Rachel was lying on the ground, her breaths raspy, as she desperately struggled to take deep breaths. The tightness of her shirt wasn't helping either, as she felt it restricted her chest. Tara glanced behind her, and saw that Fiona was sitting on the ground, resting her head on her hands. She was gasping for air, and her body shuddered with each breath. As Tara looked around for the others, Dash zoomed past her in a full sprint.

"Come on, pussies! This is no time for fucking siesta bowl!" yelled Dash as she continued her way around the track. Tara had no idea of which lap Dash was on, but it was far more than Tara had been able to accomplish. Dash also didn't even appear to be tired at all. As Tara looked closer, she even noticed that Dash didn't appear to be sweating, either. Tara had no idea what workout routine Dash used, but whatever it was, it was clearly working. Pinky also ran passed Tara, trying to catch up to Dash, which seemed to be hopeless. Even Pinky's boundless energy was running out. She was working a hard sweat, and her pace was noticeably slowing, but she continued to run regardless.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang throughout the chamber. As AJ rolled her eyes at the girls' lackluster fitness level, she decided to give them proper motivation. She had walked to the walls near the firing range, and swiped a handgun off of the wall. She began taking potshots at Rachel's legs, which made Rachel jump up in shock.

"As I recall, I didn't tell y'all to be lyin' down!" AJ shouted, and began to shoot in Fiona's direction. Fiona immediately took the hint, and started moving down the track at a rapid pace. AJ continued to shoot at her, narrowly missing shooting her feet. Dash ran past Tara once again, this time taking the opportunity to smack Tara on the back of the head. Tara yelped and rubbed the back of her head. A gunshot rang close by her, startling her to her feet. Dash had already run far ahead of her, avoiding the shots, and Tara started to run after her.

"Come on, Tara! Ya got a long ways to go!" shouted AJ, who continued to take potshots at her friends' expense. The next two hours consisted of Tara, Fiona, and Rachel taking brief periods of rest, which were separated by long segments of jogging and being shot at. Sometime along the way, Pinky had used up the vast majority of her energy, and she had finally taken a rest, kneeling by the side of the track and coughing heavily. Fiona passed by Pinky, and slowed down from her jog, feeling concerned for Pinky's well-being. Every time Fiona had ever seen her on campus, Pinky was always merry. So, seeing Pinky in a pained state was actually quite jarring for the shy girl.

"Uh, Pinky, are you alright?" asked Fiona through her own heavy breathing. Pinky coughed some more, and then looked up at Fiona, trying her best to smile through the pain in her chest.

"Yeah, I'm cool," she managed to breathe out. "It's just (pant) I never (pant) felt tired before. (pant) It feels cra-(pant)-zy."

"You've never felt tired before?" Fiona asked in disbelief.

"Nope," Pinky shrugged. "Not really, except before sleep. (pant) But I never felt tired in the middle of the day before." Fiona nearly jumped out of her skin as gunshots rang around her, and she took off down the track again.

"Keep moving, you two!" shouted AJ. Pinky groaned.

"Pleeeeeeeease!" Pinky yelled back, doubtingly. "There's no way you could hit me with that. (pant) If you're trying to scare me, you better (pant) get a higher caliber gun." AJ looked at the gun in her hand, and then back to Pinky, who was on the opposite side of the track from her.

"Just fucking move, Blondy!" came Dash, who, having easily completed her laps, was now leaning on a wall next to AJ and watching the others struggle around the track. She occasionally tried to talk to AJ, but found most of her comments didn't seem to get through to the southern blonde. AJ didn't respond to any of Dash's questions, such as what music AJ listened to, or what assignments AJ was given in the past, or what her sex life was like. AJ simply shrugged off the questions, opting to watch the ladies fight their way around the track.

At approximately 6:15 AM, Rachel's legs finally gave up on her. She collapsed to the ground, unable to move. Her head was spinning, and she was unable to see anything clearly. She was fairly certain that she was going to vomit. Her legs had gone numb, and pain rushed in and out of her chest with every breath. She thought she was going to die, as she felt herself being hoisted off the ground by an unknown person. Suddenly she was tossed in the air, and landed in the pool in the center of the track. Instinct kicked in, and she grabbed on to the side of the pool, holding herself above the cold water. She gasped for a breath, and looked up at the laughing rainbow-haired girl who had unkindly tossed her in the pool.

"Sorry," laughed Dash. "You looked like you needed some water. Haha…"

When Rachel had collapsed, Dash had decided to get payback for their earlier disagreement. It only seemed reasonable to her. Rachel needed to understand not to insult the most talented, athletic, charming, and just plain awesome member of their little dysfunctional team. Or at least, that was how Dash understood things.

"Fu…fuck you…" Rachel managed to mutter between her gasps. Dash chuckled.

"Right back at you, implants," said Dash walking away from the pool. Meanwhile, Pinky had just finished, and slowly worked her way over to the firing range. Fiona was lying on the ground in great pain, and Tara walked up beside her before collapsing.

"Hey, Tara," said Fiona. "Are you, you know, okay? You don't look too well…" Fiona coughed hard, expelling the excess phlegm that was building in her throat. While Tara felt like death, she could clearly see Fiona was much worse. Tara was unsure what shape Fiona kept herself in. She wasn't fat, by any means. Fiona had a naturally slim figure, which she attributed to the fact that she had practically no appetite, and she never left the confines of her room. Fiona had sometimes wished that she stayed in a more fit condition, but the boys she met never seemed to mind. They had always called her angelic, a woman of the highest beauty who must be treated with great respect. But unlike many girls in her school, romance was not a focal point of her life, causing many young hearts to be broken back in the day. Fiona was now thinking of these times, and this concerned her for a completely irrational reason.

Maybe she was dying. Maybe her life was flashing before her eyes, and she was having a heart attack right there on the spot. The rational side of her brain told her otherwise, but she couldn't listen to that part of her brain right now, for she was fairly certain that she was having a heart attack, and that was far more important.

"I'm (pant) fine," Tara said, while looking around the room. She saw Rachel staggering her way to AJ, who was now talking to some woman Tara hadn't seen before. Rachel herself was shivering as she slowly walked across the large chamber, while taking the time to wrap her arms around her chest. It served her two purposes. First of all, the chamber was air-conditioned to keep its inhabitants cool during exercise. Unfortunately, the pool was not pre-heated, and the cold air now blew across her skin, sending shivers down her sides. The warmth from her arms was miniscule, but she gladly accepted it. Her second purpose was more for semantics. She knew well enough what happened when white clothing got wet, so she kept her arms right up against her breasts, so as not to expose herself to her peers. She eventually reached AJ, who was now in deep conversation with a woman, while Dash casually lied on the floor.

"C-Can I get a t-towel… and a new shirt?" stuttered out Rachel, quickly adding on to her question.

"Sure, we'll see what we can do," said AJ, looking between the woman and Rachel. "Oh, Rachel, I'd like you to meet the Assistant Chairman to General Wilson. Mrs. Celestia, this is Rachel Germain, one of the new recruits for P.O.N.Y." Rachel looked at the tall, gorgeous woman standing before her. She wasn't wearing a military uniform, but instead a black, turtleneck sweater and jeans. She almost looked like a completely normal person, if not for her face. She was absolutely stunning, one of the most beautiful women Rachel had ever seen. Her deep blue eyes seemed to penetrate through Rachel, and her long blonde hair nearly fell past her waist. But instead of looking intimidating, her face carried an unmistakable kindness to it. She smiled and held out her hand to Rachel.

"Pleasure to meet you," Celestia said. Rachel shook her head.

"Likewise. But if you don't mind, I'll, uh, keep my hands where they are for now," said Rachel, embarrassed by her situation. Celestia nodded in understanding.

"Girls, get over here! There's someone I want y'all to meet!" AJ called out. Pinky skipped happily to AJ, her strength restored, as Tara and Fiona struggled to their feet, before beginning a slow and painful walk to the others. Someone wearing a suit walked through the door carrying a towel and a new white shirt. Rachel quickly snatched the towel, and wrapped it tightly around her body. Tara and Fiona arrived as AJ introduced Celestia to everyone.

"I'm glad to be meeting you all here today," Celestia started, her face growing more serious. "You are all incredibly brave from surviving the attack, yesterday. Unfortunately, bravery isn't going to stop a bullet traveling through your skull, or a blade going through your chest. I'm going to be taking care of you here; making sure each and every one of you is prepped and ready for the task ahead. We have a long road ahead of us. I will be watching AJ teach you the basics combat training. After that, I will keep track of your status from behind the scenes."

"Wait," said Tara. Her muscles ached with every movement, and she had yet to fully recover her breath. "You mean we're not getting a break, or anything?" Rachel had decided at this point to change her shirt, so she briefly walked to the corner and replaced her top while no one was looking.

"No time for breaks," said AJ, now walking towards the fire range. "We got to keep you girls learning. Come along now."

Celestia sat along a chair next to the wall as the girls were lead to the firing range. AJ was disappointed with the stamina of her new partners. She hoped that over the next few tests, they would show that they held great potential. But she knew that she would face trouble. For starters, AJ knew that the firing range would prove difficult for most of them. As far as she knew, Pinky was the only one who had fired a gun before. After equipping themselves with the proper gear, AJ handed them each a weapon one at a time, allowing each of them to fire off a few shots at targets suspended from the ceiling. Dash was stunned by her first shot, but suddenly grew to like the feeling of a weapon in her hands, as she shouted profanities into the wind.

"Fuck yeah, this bitch has got some fucking kick to it!" she shouted as she unloaded more shots into her target. The girls were amazed by the increasing bloodlust Dash was demonstrating, especially AJ, who started to become uneasy by watching Dash fire, as if she were suddenly going to lose her mind and fire upon the rest of them.

"BOOM! BLAM! TAKE THAT, COCKSUCKERS! WHOO! I LIKE THIS SHIT!"

Click

Dash continued to pull the trigger despite the empty ammo clip, hoping for more rounds to suddenly appear within her gun. Next, Rachel was given a gun, and attempted to fire a shot.

BANG

The gun snapped back in Rachel's hand, causing her to drop the gun and begin rubbing her hand soothingly.

"Shit…" she said while rubbing her wound. "That really hurts." She didn't even bother picking up the gun, walking back to the others. AJ rolled her eyes, and Dash slapped Rachel on the arm.

"Jesus Christ, one fucking shot? You're pathetic…" Dash said, as AJ picked up the gun and handed it to Fiona. Fiona shook her head in response.

"Oh no," she said, trying to give the gun back to AJ. "There's no way I'm ever using one of those." Fiona's comment dumbfounded everyone. "What? I don't believe in the killing of others."

"What?" said Tara. "So, you are not going to participate in any of our assignments at all?"

"I will." Said Fiona, trying to turn away from the attention she was receiving. "I just won't kill anything."

"Fiona, honey, I don't think there's any way to avoid doing that," said AJ, rubbing her temples.

"I'm surprised all of you are going to try to kill people. Actual human beings. That's just crazy," said Fiona in defense. Tara had never actually thought about that. She was supposed to fight terrorists and bring them to justice. But she was not aware by what means she would have to do this. If she was going to learn how to fire a gun, that probably meant she would have to shoot people. Of course they would only be shooting the bad guys, the fact that they were still human beings made her feel incredibly nervous and uncomfortable. It didn't help that AJ had now place a gun in Tara's hand, and told her to fire at the target. Tara nervously raised her gun.

Okay, Tara thought. It's just a cardboard cutout. All you've got to do is hit it. Show the others that you belong to be here.

Tara took a deep breath and refocused her aim at the cardboard. Only now, the cardboard was gone, and had been replaced. It was an actual man standing there. Tara recognized him as one of the terrorists who attacked her class. He was staring directly at her, never breaking eye contact. She felt rage flow through her. All she wanted to do was put a bullet through this man's skull. She couldn't control this feeling. It was just filling her to the brim. She prepared to shoot at the man.

A man who probably had a wife and kids. A man who probably had his own life, who was just swept up into this without his control. A man that she would have to kill without mercy, and separate from this world, forever. She couldn't do it. She hated this man, despised this man, but she couldn't fire on him. She couldn't kill this man, or anyone for that matter. He raised his gun at her. She felt her muscles tense up. She couldn't breathe. He was still staring at her as he readied his weapon. She needed to pull the trigger, but her body wouldn't respond to her. He stared her down, now ready to strike. Tara closed her eyes.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

"Hahahahaha! Nice shot, dipshit!" Dash called out to Tara. She opened her eyes. The man was gone, a cardboard cutout of a soldier in his place. Tara had unloaded her clip into the wall around the cardboard, completely missing the target with every shot. Dash was still laughing at her, while AJ hung her head disappointment. Suddenly, Pinky yanked the gun out of Tara's hand, reloaded it, and took aim.

"Yes," she said, taking aim at the cardboard head. "Now it's my turn. FIRE IN THE HOLE!" she shouted as she unloaded her clip rapidly into the cardboard, every shot striking the target between its eyes. Once she was finished, she merrily skipped back to the group, the members of which were staring at her as if she'd grown a second head. Next, they moved on to hand-to-hand combat, which further led AJ down her road of disappointment. She learned almost all she needed by her first test. It was actually a quite simplistic task.

"Punch me in the face," AJ had ordered. "I want to see how hard you hit." While most girls seemed shocked that AJ was giving them permission to hit her, Dash walked right up to AJ and readied her fist.

"Alright, if you really want it so badly…" Dash said as she quickly let out a right hook towards AJ's head. Suddenly, her arm was grabbed roughly, and before she knew it, AJ had planted her face down on her stomach, with her own arm being twisted behind her back at a sharp angle.

"Don't get so cocky, Dawson." AJ said, releasing her tight grip. Dash stood up, holding her arm and rotating it around her shoulder. AJ heard her mutter some profanities under her breath, as she moved down the line of recruits and tested their abilities. Tara attempted a simple jab, but was easily blocked, and AJ was able to shove Tara to the ground. Rachel attempted to kick AJ in the head, which showed AJ an excellent display of flexibility, but utterly failed in the concept of a successful attack. A simple sweep to the opposite leg took Rachel down easily. Pinky attempted to tackle AJ to the ground, but her momentum was redirected and she was sent hurdling to the earth. When AJ reached Fiona, the shy girl simply shook her head.

"No," she simply said. AJ groaned.

"Come on, Fiona. Try to hit me," AJ said.

"No way. You'll just end up blocking it and hurting me," said Fiona, defensively. "Or what if I hit you by accident? I don't want to hurt you."

"Fiona, hit me. That's an order," said AJ. Fiona remained silent. AJ shut her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Look, you won't actually-"

Smack

Fiona quickly shot out a fist, striking AJ square in the jaw. AJ stumbled back from the hit while clutching her jaw tightly. Fiona cupped her hands over her own mouth, and with a feeling of shame and embarrassment, began immediately apologizing for her actions.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she began, now struggling to find her own words. "I-I just… I mean I didn't want to… You just… Oh, I'm really really really sorry."

"Don't be," said AJ, rubbing her wound. "That was a… nice shot."

After Fiona calmed down and AJ's jaw felt better, the training continued, as the group learned the basics of martial arts, infiltration techniques, disguise, behavior, strategy, and immediate battle tactics. Over the next few hours and various tests, AJ mentally noted different things about the girls. Not only did Fiona have a devastating sucker punch, but she also was able to quickly notice patterns in the behavior of people she met, something she gained from constantly studying animals. Pinky was excellent with guns, but when faced with situations requiring tight focus or close range, she had difficulty completing tasks. Rachel was highly flexible (thanks to many years of yoga therapy), and she also had an eye for detection and blending into one's environment. Her immense fashion expertise meant that she could properly dress herself to seamlessly blend in with her environment, although as AJ also noticed, she would much rather stand out then blend in with the crowd. Dash was the most physically superior, with seemingly limitless stamina and speed, but lacked patience and forethought. She would often rush ahead without thinking, her strategy mainly being fighting hard and fighting fast. Tara was the exact opposite, coming up with great long term strategies and plans, but being unable to fully act them out. Her less than special physical abilities were quite obvious to everyone, but they also knew that Tara's mental strength greatly surpassed her physical strength. Unfortunately, this left AJ with a mind that she still couldn't use to any useful extent.

After reviewing the situation, AJ knew she was stuck with half-soldiers. She ordered the girls to run more laps around the track. After many groans and complaints, she eventually told them it was to "ensure the accuracy of her tests". However, it was simply a ruse for AJ to buy herself some time for thought. While AJ was mulling over how she could put the girls' talents to good use, Rachel was talking to Tara, as they ran along the track.

"How do you put up with her?" Rachel asked while eyeing Dash from across the room. Dash had finished another lap at top speed, showing no signs of fatigue.

"What do you mean?" responded Tara. "I don't even speak to Dash."

"Yes, but she speaks to you, and I assume she is no less of a gormless twat. How do you filter her out?" Rachel asked. Meanwhile, Dash had spotted Rachel and Tara talking, and raced over to hear their conversation.

"I…can't really," Tara admitted. "You just have to try to ignore her. Don't let her get under your skin. "Dash raced ever closer to the girls, now within earshot of their talks.

"I'm trying…"Rachel growled. "But she just won't let me be. It's like that bitch trying to piss everyone off on purpose…"

"HEY! Are you guys talking about me?!" Dash shouted from behind them. They turned around, and while Tara was slightly flustered, Rachel was just angry.

"What was your first clue?" Rachel responded, sarcastically. "Was it the fact that you keep pissing us off, or did the word 'bitch' suddenly activate a command in your brain like bloody sleeper agent?" Rachel stopped in her tracks, while Dash slowed down to a walk.

"I don't like it when people talk about me behind my back," said Dash. Fiona and Pinky took notice, and started to move towards the other girls.

"Oh, like you haven't said shit behind other peoples' backs."

"Rachel," said Tara sternly. "Don't egg her on."

"Stay out of this, Spark," said Dash, who was now approaching Rachel. She pointed sternly at her. "When I say shit to people, I say it to their face. That's called fucking respect. Something you clearly can't understand."

"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Rachel, her voice growing louder.

"You think your fucking perfect, like your better than everyone else," Dash said, who was now standing directly in front of Rachel, glaring sharply at her. Dash started to speak in a horrible British accent as she started to mock Rachel. "Oh, look at me. I'm Rachel fucking Germain. I feel horrible about myself as a person, so I put on ridiculous outfits to make people forget that I look like the elephant man on the inside. It really helps when I use my sexy foreign accent, fake words, and giant tit implants to suck the cock of every man in the whole wide fucking world!" Dash stopped and sneered hard. "Face it, the only way you can feel like more than an empty pile of shit is by bringing everyone else down." Rachel took an advancing step forward, now staring directly into Dash's eyes.

"Maybe I'll bring you down, you selfish bitch!" Rachel challenged.

"I'd like to see you fucking try!" Dash shouted, now readying herself to fight.

By this point, Tara had wrapped her arms around Rachel and was separating the arguing pair to avoid a brawl. Pinky had grabbed Dash and was doing the same. Words and profanities flew back and forth between the pair, some of which Tara had never known to have existed. AJ took notice of the fight, and quickly ran over to break it up permanently.

"Calm down, you two!" she shouted as she reached the girls struggling to get their hands on one another. "Okay. I can see that tensions are running high over here. You're both tired from the work, I get that. But you two are going to have to get along. We are supposed to be a team!" AJ took a deep breath. "We're gonna take a break now. Maybe if ya get some food y'all will calm down a little."

Rachel and Dash calmed down, but were still glaring at each other, looking like predators ready to pounce. AJ looked at her so-called "team". Unless a miracle happened, it seemed that they would never be able to accomplish anything.

__________

"I just can't believe her," said Rachel, as she was walking down the streets of Philadelphia. They had left the base to go to the city above them in search for food. They had enough money to buy things, so it wasn't a matter of what they ate. It was more of a matter of who ate what. Rachel and Dash refused to speak with each other, and if they were left alone, Tara was quite sure that they would rip each other's' throats out. So they decided to split up, which now left Tara and AJ stuck listening to Rachel complain, as they walked through the city.

"I can't believe she says that I only put others down. That's a load of bollocks…" Rachel was half-talking to herself, but still wanted to hear confirmation from the others. "…right?"

"Oh yeah," said Tara without thinking. "You're super nice." Rachel sighed and smiled.

"Of course. I always try my best to help people. Like, there was this one time…" Rachel told a story about her good deeds, but AJ and Tara weren't listening, instead having their own private conversation.

"By the way, Tara," said AJ. "I know this may sound weird, but thanks for all the help with the homework. The last thing I needed was to fail a class that I'm not really supposed to be taking."

"No problem," said Tara, happy to help. But this brought a question to her mind. "So wait, you actually needed help with that? It wasn't just some undercover scheme or anything?"

"Nope," said AJ simply. "I'm just really bad at schoolwork. Never really had to do much of it. As I told ya, most of my behavior was no lie."

"Does that mean you actually named your hat 'Winola'?" asked Tara. AJ's smiling face went blank. She stared straight ahead of her for a long moment. When she was done thinking, she sighed and glared back at Tara, who was starting to laugh.

"I really hate you sometimes, you know that?" said AJ to a now laughing Tara. It was the first time Tara had laughed since the shooting, and it was the same joke as before, but Tara still found it hysterical. Rachel had noticed Tara's laughs and realized that neither of them had been listening to her. She turned to the girls.

"Hey," Rachel started. "I'm trying to give myself self-confidence here. The least you could do is listen. What's so bloody funny anyway?"

"Oh, nothing," Tara managed to say through her giggles. She paused for a moment, before adding, "Hey, Rachel, did you know that AJ named her hat?"

__________

"She's a bitch," said Dash walking down the street. Pinky bounced cheerily alongside her, while Fiona slowly trudged behind them. Fiona didn't like Dash, at least not yet. She hadn't really gotten a chance to speak with her in person, but she had heard Tara talking about their multiple run-ins. Now, listening to the girl talk about someone else in a negative manner, Fiona could see why Tara found Dash less than charming. As for Pinky, Fiona had once been trapped by the blonde girl for an hour, when she was stopped on campus and asked to buy sweets. Fiona made the simple mistake of asking for what type of sweets Pinky sold, and before she knew it, sixty minutes flew by as Pinky rambled on about different types of sugars, the properties of anti-matter, and the current crisis in the Middle East. Rumors had flown around school that Pinky was a heavy cocaine addict, and that "candy" was a code word for drugs. By watching the way Pinky bounced about with the combined energy of fifteen six-year olds with ADHD, Fiona honestly wouldn't be surprised if the rumors were true.

"I mean, I get that I can be a little bitchy sometimes," continued Dash, who assumed that everyone was listening to her. "But I never say mean shit about someone when they can't defend themselves, unlike that stupid whore…"

Right, thought Fiona. You certainly don't say anything behind others' backs.

Fiona was shocked that she even thought something like that. She didn't usually think harshly about others. But she almost saw Dash as a bully, and she had never been kind to the cruel ways of others, especially after some of the things done to her in her childhood.

"Yeah!" shouted Pinky enthusiastically. She paused. "Wait, who are we talking about?"

"Germain," said Dash with a sneer. Even when Dash was thinking of her, she was incredibly angry. It didn't help that she hadn't eaten anything, and she'd been awake since three o'clock.

"Ohhhh. But I thought we liked her?" Pinky asked, sincerely.

"Forget it," said Dash, annoyed by her friend's lack of focus. She kept looking around her, her eyes scanning every corner. "Where are the fucking hot dog stands? This is supposed to be a city."

"You're thinking of New York," said Fiona, timidly. She didn't know exactly how to say what she wanted to Dash, but she knew not to anger the rainbow-haired girl, especially now. "This is Philadelphia. There aren't vendors on the street."

"Really? Fuck. Okay then, we're stopping at the first place we find. I don't care if the food tastes like shit; I'm fucking hungry," said Dash, holding her growling stomach. She was having a bad day. She was tired, annoyed, and extremely hungry. She was just hoping that her day would get better, before anything else bad came her way.

__________

AJ had recommended a restaurant close by to their base of operations. After the girls took their order and the waitress left them, Rachel asked a question she had been concerning herself with all day.

"So, are you going to make us wear, like, whatever there is, or do we have some kind of influence over what we will be dressing in?" asked Rachel pointing at her clothes. AJ laughed.

"Rachel, the last thing you should be worried about is what you wear," AJ half-joked. Rachel took the comment with slight offense.

"Hey, I am a woman of fashion," Rachel remarked with a high sense of superiority. "And you dragged us to a bloody base in the middle of Pennsylvania-"

"Philadelphia," Tara corrected. "Pennsylvania is a state."

"Sorry," Rachel corrected her mistake and continued. "We didn't bring anything with us. All of my gowns are still back at the college. And I bet our base doesn't have any shops in it."

"Speaking of which," Interrupted Tara. "Does the base have a name, or anything?" AJ was puzzled by the remark.

"What are ya goin' on about?" the southern girl asked.

"Well," explained Tara. "In every spy book I've read, they always have some secret base with a cheesy name. But our base doesn't have a name."

"Should we really be having this talk here?" said Rachel. They looked around the restaurant, seeing a dozen people eating around them, enjoying good cuisine.

"First of all, I don't think anyone here is focusing on us right now," commented AJ, looking around to see people directing their attention to the meals before them. She turned to Tara. "And second of all, no, we don't need a name for the base."

"Why not?" said Tara, now smirking at her friend. "You named your hat, so why not the base? OW!" Tara yelped as AJ punched her hard in her shoulder, close to her stitches. Tara rubbed her shoulder, ignoring the stinging feeling running through her arm. Meanwhile, Rachel started to snicker.

"I still can't believe you named your hat…" Rachel said through her laughs.

"Ya know, I can take us back to the base and make ya run more laps, if ya really want to," AJ egged on. Rachel and Tara became silent. They sat completely still, no longer acting out, as AJ grinned one of the largest grins Tara had ever seen.

"That's more like it," she said, adjusting her hat to make herself more comfortable. Before long, the waitress had shown up carrying a tray of food. Tara knew how to eat healthy. She knew how to pick light, filling choices that gave her a boost of energy and strengthen her muscles. But she hadn't eaten anything in over twenty-four hours, and she was so hungry that her stomach had become loud enough to scare away a family of deer. So, she ordered the biggest burger they had on the menu, all of the toppings included, and a side of fries. Rachel had decided to be lady like, and ordered a chicken salad. But when she caught a whiff of the large beef patty, her mouth watered uncontrollably. Even AJ, who had actually eaten within the past five hours, was starting to crave a bite of Tara's giant burger. Tara noticed the girls eyeing her lunch, and quickly pulled the plate away from them. Rachel began pleading with her friend.

"Come on, Tara," Rachel said, never taking her eyes off of the sandwich. "Let's be reasonable here. That thing is freaking massive."

"You're not getting a bite," Tara said sternly, wrapping her arms around the plate defensively.

"Please. Just one teensy, tiny, little nibble," Rachel pleaded.

"No way," said Tara. "You could've ordered this for yourself, but you didn't. You have your lunch, I have mine."

"That's not a lunch," Rachel said, pointing at the imposing patty. "That's a goddamn buffet!

"Well, I'm really hungry."

"I'm really hungry."

"Then eat your salad," said Tara, gesturing to Rachel's untouched meal.

"I'm not going to eat a salad when I see that thing being eaten in front of me," claimed Rachel.

"Well, you were the one who decided to be 'lady-like' when getting food," stated Tara accusingly.

"And now you can be lady-like by offering a bite of food to your starving friends," said Rachel. Tara stared at her.

"You don't hear AJ complaining," Tara gestured to her friend who was calmly sitting next to her, avoiding the confrontation.

"Mhm, hmm," came AJ's reply. Rachel and Tara never broke eye contact with each other.

"That's because AJ ate," replied Rachel. "I'm starving."

"Look," said Tara, trying to be rational. "We are both hungry, and both want the burger. I'm sure there is some way to work this out."

"I just want a bite," said Rachel defensively.

"No you don't," stated Tara. "You would eat a small sample of my food, and then your brain would start automatically craving more of it. You'll keep taking bites until you eat the whole burger."

"So what do we do?" asked Rachel, eagerly.

"Simple. The person who buys the food, eats the food. And we each used our own money to buy things," Tara said factually. Realization was dawning on Rachel, who was trying to understand what Tara was saying.

"So what you're saying is…"

"You're. Not. Getting. A. Bite," Tara said, punctuating each word to make sure Rachel got the message. "That's final." Rachel slammed her head on the table and groaned.

"Fine," she said in defeat, looking back up at Tara. "I'll just sit here and be a proper woman while you stuff your face with that rancid beef. Oh, and by the way, AJ's been stealing your fries this entire time." Tara looked over at her southern friend, who, sure enough, was calmly holding a pile of fries in one hand, while taking one and putting it in her mouth with the other.

"AJ!" yelled Tara, trying to swipe the fries out of her friend's hands. AJ easily moved her hand out, away from Tara's reach. Rachel was snickering to herself, watching Tara futilely try to regain possession of her food. Eventually, Tara gave up; trying to be content with half of the fries she had prior. She took another sniff of the burger. It smelled heavenly. A rich concoction of seasoning properly added to the patty, allowing for the ultimate seal of flavor. The cheese was melted and draped over the patty, still sizzling from the heat of the grill. The perfect balance of lettuce, tomato, onion, bacon, mushrooms and pickles topped the burger, with ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise drizzled over the perfect mound of food before Tara's eyes. All of this was held together by a sesame seed bun, which Tara happily grabbed onto. The burger was larger than her hands, which made examining it a slight challenge, as Tara tried to find the perfect angle at which to bite into her meal.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM

The girls felt the ground hake beneath them, as an explosion rang out from a few blocks away. The girls were shocked, unsure of what to do, until AJ drew their attention.

"Come on," she said, fixing her hat. "Let's see what that was." She got up from the table, and made her way towards the door. Rachel and Tara looked at each other, startled. "What are y'all waiting for?! Hurry up!" AJ called out to the girls at the table. Regretfully, Tara put down her burger as she and Rachel ran out the door to join AJ. But before the door fully closed, Rachel ran back into the restaurant. She sprinted back to the table, picked up Tara's burger, and took a large bite of it. As the flavor set in, she moaned.

Oh God, that's good, she thought. She put down the burger, and sprinted back outside to catch up with the others.

__________

Two blocks over, somewhat of a crisis had been worked up over at the Johnson-Johnson United Bank. Hostages were being held inside by a group of three armed men. Susan Driefer was in the unfortunate circumstance of being one of these hostages. Her day had started out as usual. She had woken up to car horns blaring outside of her apartment. She ate a piece of toast for breakfast, and then headed to her work at a retail store, selling old shoes. But today, she needed to open a new account, for her last one was recently broken into, leaving her robbed blind. It wasn't as if she had much money in the first place, but it was still devastating. Of course, her luck would have it that three homicidal maniacs happened to stroll into the bank, and were now terrorizing everybody around her. She looked around at the three men. The first was short and stocky, walking around and pointing his shotgun at the ten hostages. His head was bald, and the lights of the bank reflected off of his scalp. The second man was standing by the doorway, his long main of black hair flowing past his shoulders. He was holding open the door with his shoulder, holding a grenade launcher and shooting at random cars outside of the building. Occasionally, he would scratch his chin, which was hidden under a thick beard. The last man terrified her. The other two men were wearing normal clothes, while this man was wearing an all-white suit, with a black button shirt and a white tie. On the back of his suit-jacket, a black dragon was imprinted. A white fedora was placed atop his head. But his face scared her the most. His entire face was painted yellow, with his neck and ears covered with black make-up. He had black circles covering his eyes, and appeared to be wearing black lipstick. Black lines were drawn over his cheeks, transforming the entire image into that of a crude smiley face. He laughed every time the grenade launcher fired, as he twirled a revolver around his finger, which happened to be on his left hand. The bald man turned to him.

"Uh, Discord?" he questioned the laughing man. "Aren't we supposed to, you know, be hunting for those girls?" Discord laughed again.

"Probably," he admitted, but he didn't seem to truly care. "But we can wait to do that. There's always time for causing extreme acts of violence." Discord walked over to the bearded man. "Any signs of police yet, Oh Clyde, my buddy, my pal?"

"No one yet," said Clyde. "Though I'm sure they're hearing the results of this bad boy." He fired another round, blowing up a car parked across the street. "I'll be ready for them."

"You're sick," said another woman, disgusted with what the men were doing. Discord paused, then walked towards the girl, and knelt down beside her.

"No, you're the sick ones," stated Discord matter-of-factly. He pointed the revolver towards her head, and then spun the chamber on the gun. "All of you people here don't appreciate the true nature of your lives. You all like to live in your boring homes, while you decide to waste your lives fucking a bunch of meaningless pricks. I choose to appreciate what life is truly about: Uncertainty, randomness, pure unadulterated chance. And now, you're going to appreciate it, too."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" questioned the woman. Discord ignored her, instead thinking of a difficult question.

"Okay, here's how this is going to work," he said, keeping his gun trained on her. "I'm going to ask you a question. Get it wrong, and I shoot you. Got it?" The girl was struggling to figure out what the lunatic was talking about.

"In that new musical, Living a Spectacular Life, who is the man that Samantha goes to see regarding her love affair?" asked Discord. The girl was baffled, unable to understand the meaning of her current predicament. She couldn't think properly, everything confused her so much.

"I… I don't-"

"Whoops, time's up!" shouted Discord, before he immediately shot her three times in the chest, laughing manically as he did other hostages screamed, as a sense of shock spread over the occupants of the bank.

"What was that for?" nervously asked Susan. Discord sighed, and then walked over to her.

"You wouldn't understand," he said, almost somberly. "When I was young, I learned that society likes to keep itself firmly in check, never straying too far into abnormality. People think that order is necessary for the world to function. But it isn't order that created the world. It was The Chaos Theory. The chance that absolutely anything could happen at any time. It's beautiful. But people just don't understand." He took a deep breath, and then slapped Susan across the face. "So, if I gotta murder someone because they haven't watched my favorite fucking Broadway show, just to make a fucking point about not fucking acting like everyone wants, DON'T FUCKING QUESTION IT!"

"But Discord," Lloyd spoke up. "I've seen Living a Spectacular Life. Ain't no nobody is named 'Samantha' in it."

"I know," Discord said calmly. "Never actually saw any musicals. Not a Broadway fan. Still, can't help but smile at life, right?"

__________

As Tara was running down the street, she took out her cell phone. It was taken away from her when they first arrived at their base, but Celestia had kindly given it back to her an hour ago, claiming that they needed to make it untraceable to outside sources. She took out her phone and called one of the only people she had on her contacts list that wasn't family or school related.

__________

Fiona was having a miserable time. It wasn't enough that she had to listen to Dash constantly talking about how great of an athlete she was. She also had to keep Pinky in line, and stop her from running away towards the first distraction she saw. Fiona was simply glad that she was sitting at a pizza place, enjoying the brief break she got from the chaos of her new "friends". Dash had ordered two pies, topped with a variety of meats and veggies. As Fiona casually finished one slice, she noticed that Dash and Pinky had eaten five slices each, with little sign of ceasing. She sighed, and sat quietly as Dash continued to talk about her achievements to the blonde girl.

Bzzzzzzttt

Fiona took her phone out of her pocket, and, seeing that Tara was calling her, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Fiona! You guys need to get over here fast!" Tara shouted from over the phone. Fiona grew concerned.

"Tara, is something wrong? Are you okay?" Fiona asked.

"I'm fine for now," said Tara "But you got to here. It sounds like something big is going on."

"Where are you?" asked Fiona, worriedly.

"I'm not sure," admitted Tara. "But don't worry; I'm sure that you'll figure it out." Tara hung up the phone, and Fiona immediately stood up from her table, and ran outside. Curious, Dash and Pinky ran after her.

"Fiona," said Pinky opening the door. "Where are you-"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM

Oh, thought Fiona. That's what the problem is.

__________

When Tara, AJ, and Rachel arrived at the bank, several police cars were already surrounding the building. A cop halted the girls' approach.

"FREEZE! DO NOT GET ANY CLOSER!" he shouted. "This is a dangerous zo-"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM

A car exploded nearby, causing the girls to be knocked back by the force. The cop was blown to his feet. Meanwhile, Discord stood in front of the door to the bank, holding Susan in front of him as a human shield.

"Please!" he shouted, pretending to beg for his life. "Don't shoot! It would be a tragedy if someone had to get hurt here."

"Put the hostage down and put your hands in the air!" shouted a police sergeant over a megaphone. There were at least twenty cops around the building, all pointing their guns at Discord. No one was willing to take the shot. Discord turned his head to his men inside the building.

"Lloyd," he said. "Let the hostages go." The bald man, Lloyd, forced the hostages to their feet. He motioned them towards the door, and one by one, the hostages slowly filed out of the building. Meanwhile, Clyde pulled a detonator out of his pocket, and flicked several switches the switches on the device.

Beep

Tara heard a small noise coming from her right. She turned; now looking at the building located next to her, but could not find any source to the noise.

Beep

The noise came again, but this time, Tara saw the source for the noise. A small, silver, circular object was stuck to the side of the building. It had a small red bulb on top of it that flashed whenever it beeped. Tara picked up the object.

Beep Beep Beep

"Hey AJ, do you know what this is?" asked Tara as she showed AJ the small object. The cops had also noticed beeping coming from around them. The hostages, who were standing behind the cops, also took notice. AJ took one glance at the object, and her eyes went wide.

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep

Quickly, AJ snatched the object out of Tara's hand, and threw it as far away as she could. She grabbed her two friends, and pushed them around the corner of the street.

"Get down!" she shouted as she pressed her friends against the wall. The police looked around for the source of the beeping, but they couldn't see them anywhere. But one cop suddenly took notice of a small object stuck to one of the hostage's back. Without warning, Discord pushed Susan into the crowd, and took cover.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM

To Be Continued...

Chapter 2: The First Steps (A Bold New Direction)

Chapter 2: The First Steps

Part 2 of 2: A Bold New Direction

A large series of explosions sent vibrations through the ground and the walls, knocking Tara and Rachel to the floor. Each of the hostages was planted with the small explosive, and each of them promptly exploded when the devices were triggered, taking out the cops and most of the surrounding area. They didn't have time to scream before they were blown apart. But luckily, thanks to quick thinking, Tara and Rachel were relatively alright, although they were quite shaken and terrified.

"Dear God!" shouted Rachel. Tara immediately covered Rachel's mouth.

"We can't let them hear us," whispered Tara. She was secretly panicking on the inside, but she tried to put on her calmest expression for Rachel's sake. "We just have to stay calm until someone comes for help. Right, AJ?" Tara turned to her southern friend for a response, but received none. In fact, AJ wasn't even next to her. Tara and Rachel looked around, but AJ had run off somewhere.

Meanwhile, Discord was laughing hysterically at the piles of assorted limbs lying before him. Several police officers struggled to rise to their feet, but they were quickly shot down by the psychopath. He fired off his six shots, before turning to his men.

"Don't you just love it when there are multiple innocent casualties of a random act of violence?" he asked his men. But when he looked towards Clyde and Lloyd, Clyde was lying on the ground and clutching his head, while AJ was holding her arm around Lloyd's neck and pointing her sidearm towards Discord. To say the least, he was rather confused.

"Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" Discord asked. He didn't show any true signs of concern, but rather curiosity. AJ ignored his behavior.

"Put ya gun down, now," AJ ordered. "I will not hesitate to shoot ya."

"You're really going to shoot me with that thing," sighed Discord, motioning to AJ's gun. AJ shot near Discord's feet, causing him to jump slightly.

"I said, put the gun down," repeated AJ. "I will kill you."

"First of all, you won't kill me," said Discord calmly. He made no effort to put down his weapon. "You want to bring me in alive so you can ask me questions about my organization. Secondly, if you were to kill me, I hope you'd at least use a better gun."

"What are you talking about?" said AJ. She had no idea who this man was, let alone who he was working for. He smiled at her.

"You don't have any idea who I am, do you?"

"I don't need to know who you are," AJ said. "And I'm not police. I don't need to keep you alive."

"Well, for the sake of formalities," Discord took off his hat, and politely bowed to the woman before him. "I am the Lord Discord, head of the Smiling Dragons. And if I were you, I'd kill me within the next, say… thirty seconds."

"Why?" asked AJ, readying her weapon.

"Because in thirty seconds, I'll escape."

"And how do you suppose that'll happen?" said AJ. She smirked at him, knowing full well that he couldn't move before she fired at him. All variables were accounted for, and there was no chance for a sudden escape.

"FREEZE! Get on the ground now!"

AJ and Discord turned towards the door, and AJ suddenly felt very confused and annoyed. Tara and Rachel were standing in the doorway, trying their best not to let their fear show. They were holding firearms that were taken from the corpses outside, and were pointing them at Discord. Discord was now even more confused than he was sheer moments ago.

"Who the fuck are you two supposed to be?" he asked.

"Girls get back, y'all shouldn't be here right now," yelled AJ.

"You just abandoned us back there," said Rachel, who was nervously shaking, causing the gun to wobble in her hands.

"You guys know each other?" asked Discord, looking back and forth between the ladies. His question was ignored as AJ continued yelling.

"It's too dangerous for you to be here," she yelled.

"This is what we're being trained for," Tara reasoned.

"No. Y'all are not ready for this," AJ said. Discord was constantly turning around to witness the argument unfold.

"I'm in the middle of something, aren't I?" Discord joked. "I mean, you don't usually see a bunch of teenagers holding a criminal mastermind at gunpoint that often, right?"

"You two are going to get yourself killed if you act this recklessly," AJ warned.

"You're the one who ran off by yourse-"

Tara stated to argue, but was soon cut off when she heard the sound of a fast moving car rapidly approaching. A white SUV screeched down the road, before coming to a stop in front of the bank. Two men jumped out of the vehicle, and started firing their machine guns towards the bank. Tara and Rachel quickly dove for cover out of the range of fire. In the chaos that followed, Discord quickly took aim and shot the gun out of AJ's hand. Lloyd grabbed on to her arm still wrapped around his neck, and rolled AJ over his back, sending her crashing to the floor in front of him. Clyde stood up, and the three criminals quickly ran out of the bank and into the car. But before they left, Discord politely took of his hat to bow to Tara, who was pressing herself to the inside of the bank wall. The car hurriedly drove away from the bank. AJ recovered fast enough to run outside and see the vehicle in the distance.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself. She rubbed her ribs, which she poorly landed on when she fell. Tara came out of the bank and ran to AJ. "You know, I had that situation under control."

"But we didn't know that. We thought they killed you. You didn't tell us that you were going to single handedly take out the bad guys," said Tara, very annoyed. AJ sighed in disappointment.

"Well, their gone now," AJ somberly said. "There really ain't much we can do about that."

Suddenly, they heard a car rapidly approaching them. Soon, a small, blue car zoomed past the girls, nearly running them over, and headed towards the direction of Discord's car. Tara was shocked by what she saw. AJ however, didn't understand why.

"Um, Tara, are you alright?" AJ asked her. Tara's mouth was hanging open as she tried to explain what she had seen.

"I… I think that might have been Dash driving that thing."

__________

"Dash, slow down," Fiona begged from the backseat of the car. Dash was in hot pursuit of the criminals using a car that she hotwired outside of the pizza place. So far, the criminals had not noticed that they were being tailed. So, Dash was trying to get as close to the other car as possible, even if it meant breaking the law by going thirty miles over the speed limit.

"Calm your tits, girl," Dash shouted. Dash turned on the radio and started blasting rock and roll music through the speakers. Pinky, who was sitting in the passenger's seat, started to play an imaginary guitar to the tune of the music.

"Man, this is really cool; traveling down the streets in a super cool chase scene while listening to some freaking cool music. Who is this band, anyway?" Pinky asked Dash. Dash shook her head and laughed.

"I don't even fucking know! But, yeah, this song kicks ass!" Dash shouted over the music. Soon, she found herself right behind Discord's vehicle. Dash was extremely excited to say the least. Fiona was hugging the seat in front of her for protection, feeling rather certain that she was about to die. Pinky got slightly more serious for the moment, as the threat seemed to reach her on a subconscious level. Dash took one hand off of the wheel, reached into her back pocket, and pulled out a pistol.

"Pinky, when I say so, shoot the car in front of us," said Dash, grinning. "We'll show those bastards what we can do."

"Where did you get that?" Fiona said in a panic.

"Stole it from the base," responded Dash, handing her gun to Pinky. She rolled down the window on Pinky's side of the car. "Get ready to fire."

Pinky took the gun and readied her aim. When Dash gave the command, Pinky leaned out of her open window, steadied her aim, and shot at the back window of the car. But instead of passing through the glass, the bullet merely wedged itself into the back window. In the other car, Discord and his men heard the impact of the shot.

"I think that car is shooting at us," Lloyd said to his boss.

"Nice observation," Discord said sarcastically. "Anything else you want to mention? You know, the sun is bright, the grass is green, THE GODDAMN MOON FLOATS IN THE SKY?! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He turned his attention to his driver, regaining his composure. "Manny, lose these fuckers." The driver nodded, and he turned on the next corner, driving now in the wrong direction. Behind him, Dash made a sudden turn to follow him, causing Pinky to lose her balance and nearly fall out the window. But she remained in the car, and started to take shots at the car's tires. The SUV constantly swerved to avoid incoming cars, taking sudden turns to try to lose the girls. But Dash remained in hot pursuit, managing to avoid incoming traffic, albeit without the grace that the gang members had. The constant turning prevented Pinky from achieving her goal: shooting out one of the tires on the SUV. Before she knew it, she was out of ammo, so she turned back to Dash.

"Dash," she shouted over the heavy metal song that was now playing. "Need another clip. This one's empty."

"Don't got one," admitted Dash, trying to focus on following the criminals. Pinky was dumbfounded.

"You mean you grabbed a Beretta 92FS without getting any extra ammo for this thing?!" Pinky shouted. "That's standard military procedure. That be like a cupcake without sprinkles, or chicken without feathers, or-"

"I get it! I fucked up," said Dash. "You can complain later. For now, let's think of another way to kill these dipshits." Discord's men, however, had already taken notice of the fact that they were no longer being shot at, and were coming up with a plan for a counter-attack.

"They stopped firing," said Lloyd. "What do we do now, boss?"

"First of all, stop telling me 'bout shit that I already fucking know!" complained Discord. "Now, my plan is simple. You still have that grenade launcher, right Clyde?" Clyde smiled at him. The sun roof of the SUV slid open, and Discord stood up through it. The P.O.N.Y's were unsure of what he was going to do. Then, he pulled the grenade launcher through the sun roof, and aimed it at the car.

Fear ran through the girls as they realized what was about to happen. Dash didn't say anything, too afraid to speak. Pinky too was silent, and Fiona gripped the seat even tighter, hoping that everything would be okay. Discord laughed, maniacally.

"YIPPEE KI YAY, MOTHA FUCKA!" Discord shouted gleefully, as he pulled the trigger.

Click

Discord waited for something to explode, but nothing did. He pulled the trigger again and again, trying to get the weapon to fire, but nothing happened. He was out of ammo. As the girls realized the luck of their situation, Discord grew annoyed. He angrily tossed the launcher to the side of the road, and pulled out his revolver. He expertly twirled the gun in his hand, even doing tricks with it, such as tossing it in the air and rotating it sideways. While Dash was busy watching the road, Pinky was watching his skills with the weapon. Without warning, he stopped twirling and fired off three rounds into the front right tire of the girls' car. They swerved off of the road, before crashing against a nearby building. Discord was contempt with himself, as he drove away, making his escape. The girls were left relatively unharmed by the crash, but they were still shaken from the experience. They stayed in the car to catch their breath, as they watched Discord fade into the distance.

__________

"You all nearly got yourself killed with your behavior out there," Celestia scolded. They returned to the base, tired and defeated. They were now sitting in a room filled with computer monitors and large pieces of government technology, as Wilson and Celestia discussed their actions.

"But we almost got 'em," argued Dash.

"You almost got them, but didn't," Wilson added. "The amount of rule breaking and misbehavior you demonstrated is unacceptable. You're all lucky to be alive."

"The problem is that you are trying to work individually, instead of working as a single unit," said Celestia. "Rebecca, you hijacked and totaled someone's car. Rachel, Tara, you both ran into a hostage situation with no battlefield experience. You didn't even know how to operate the firearms that you were holding." Tara and Rachel felt shameful for their actions, but Dash took Celestia's words as a compliment, and she smiled to herself.

"Patricia, you displayed no ability to adapt to your situation, and you went along with Rebecca's suicidal plan. And Fiona, you could have prevented the entire hijacking, but did nothing," Celestia continued.

"It's not their fault," said AJ. She knew that her friends would be unable to defend themselves against the onslaught of the Chairmen. But she knew that she could. She had done so before. "We could attest all of our problems to two key factors. One: we didn't have a strong line of communication. And two: they're not ready for stuff like this yet. They don't have the proper training or experience.'

"That's an excellent point," said General Wilson. "But unfortunately, that brings us to our biggest problem; you." AJ was confused.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"What did I do?" asked AJ, feeling insulted.

"A great many things," said Celestia. "You were supposed to be looking after the rest of your team. Yet in the time of crisis, you took matters into your own hands and left them alone."

"But I-"

"You also let your guard down in a hostage situation," added General Wilson. "You had no means to take the criminals alive even if you wanted to, so why not kill them and save lives? It's almost disgraceful that someone with your training would make such a simple mistake."

"I'm sorry, sir," AJ bowed her head in shame. "It won't happen again."

"Of course it won't," said the General. "Because we're demoting you."

AJ was shocked.

"You're… demoting me?" she asked, stunned.

Celestia nodded. "As of this moment, you will relieve your duties as Field Leader for the P.O.N.Y unit."

"But I-"

"It's final," Celestia said sternly. AJ stopped speaking, her anger turning to humiliation. "You faced dangerous people today. If you're going to beat them you need to learn to be part of a team before you can lead one."

"Um," interrupted Tara. She had many thoughts that needed answering, all of which she had been pondering since she came back to the base. "I have a question."

"Speak your mind," said the General.

"Well, it's just," mumbled Tara. She couldn't think of the correct wording for her question. "Who were those guys? I read the news every day, and I never heard of any group called the Smiling Dragons before."

"Of course you haven't heard anything," said Celestia. "The Smiling Dragons run the press. And the banks. And the cops."

"The cops that were dispatched were probably members that Discord couldn't get along with, so he cut them loose," added Wilson.

"We've been tracking this 'Discord' for about a year now," said Celestia. "He's been involved with countless acts of terrorism, homicide, gang violence, drug trafficking, rape, you name it. And every time we think we have him, he manages to escape. From what we've gathered, he's only doing this for the sake of causing as much pain as possible to the people around him."

"That's fucked up," muttered Dash. Celestia heard and smiled slightly.

"You could say that," she said. "The point is that it's a miracle that you girls survived. If you weren't so lucky, he'd probably have you skinned and eaten alive." The girls shuddered. Celestia checked her watch. "Anyway, if that's all of the questions, then-"

"Wait," said Tara. "One last thing."

"Yes…" said Wilson.

"If AJ's not going to be the field leader, then who is?" asked Tara. She believed that if she were to charge headfirst into combat, she should at least be given the decency of knowing who would lead her.

"Well," said the General, as he and Celestia walked towards the door. "I think that would be for you girls to decide. After all, we're not the ones doing the field work." Wilson and Celestia left, leaving the girls to themselves. Now, there was simply one question on their minds:

Who should lead?

"So, I'm going to be the leader, right?" said Dash. Rachel immediately objected.

"Why do you think that we'd ever follow you?" Rachel said harshly. Dash grinned.

"Because I'm the coolest fucking one here," Dash said, with no hint of modesty. "I'm the most athletic, I'm the second best shot, I'm the one who took initiative and drove after the bad guys, and I could kick all of your asses." Dash paused. "Except for the cowgirl's."

"But no one want to follow you," Rachel snapped back at Dash. "You don't have a sense of responsibility. You just follow your own way without caring who gets left behind."

"Oh, like you would do any better," said Dash with a sneer. "You would be so focused on not breaking a nail or bursting a balloon that you wouldn't get anything done. Just like the selfish bitch you are."

Rachel stomped right up to Dash's face and looked her in the eye.

"I'll break your skull, you filthy little-"

"ENOUGH!' shouted AJ, who was now stepping between the angry girls. "You two need to calm down, now!" Dash pushed AJ away.

"Shut up," she yelled. "You're not the boss of me. Not anymore, at least." AJ nearly slapped Dash across the face, but her self-restraint held her back. However, Tara decided to defend her friend.

"Don't insult AJ," Tara said to Dash. "All you seem to do is insult people. Just stop it. Now." Dash was unfazed by Tara's comments.

"Be careful what you say to me, Spark," Dash said. "When I'm leader, there's going to be strict punishment for speaking against your all-knowing commander."

"Oh please," said Rachel. "Even Pinky would be a better leader than you." Pinky, who until this point had stayed out of the fight, was now feeling rather insulted.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she said, almost angrily. Dash laughed.

"You know exactly what it means," said Dash. Pinky suddenly started to turn on Dash, and soon, the five girls had descended into a mess of insults and arguments, all of which served no other point than to continue the fighting. This kept going for what seemed like hours, until one soft voice drew the attention of the arguing team.

"I think Tara should be the leader."

Everyone stopped and turned towards the voice. Fiona felt their gazes upon her, and hid her face under the hood of her jacket. She didn't mean to attract attention. In fact, she hated it when people looked at her. But she felt like something should be said, and her opinion should be known. Fiona took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. After all, they were her friends, and they would respect her opinion. Or at least, that is what she hoped.

"I mean," Fiona tried to elaborate. "She is the smartest one out of all of us. And she was really good with that strategy training that AJ gave us. And she was the head of a bunch of clubs, or at least I think she was. And she always prepares ahead for pretty much everything. And… well… I don't know…I just think it's a good idea. If you don't think so, though, that's fine." The thought buzzed through the minds of everyone. It did seem like a rather reasonable idea. None of them could truly say that they had any issue with it. But Dash, still seeking a role of superiority, disagreed entirely.

"No way!" Dash exclaimed. She was still hoping to change the minds of her peers. "I mean, Spark as leader? Come on, that's crazy! She has no physical abilities." Rachel came to Tara's defense.

"Well, I'd much rather take orders from her than you. At least she will come up with some form of strategy," claimed Rachel, now wrapping her arm Tara's shoulder. Pinky chimed in as well.

"I think she'd do a pretty good job," Pinky admitted.

"Well," said AJ, considering the possibility. "She is pretty darn smart. And I've seen the schedule she had at college, and damn was that thing extensive. I think you should do it, girl." Tara was quite stunned from all the praise she was getting. She was used to people saying good things about her, but this was a completely different experience.

"You-you really all want me to the leader?" Tara asked in astonishment. All of the girls replied honestly.

"Yep."

"Absolutely"

"Of course."

"Yeah yeah yeah!"

"Not really…"

"Okay then," Tara stated proudly. "I guess I'm the new leader!" Cheers of praise and joy filled the room, except for Dash, who just groaned.

"You better not fuck this up, Spark," Dash said with a sneer. Tara just smiled at her.

"Don't worry," Tara said happily. "I'll make sure we won't fail again."

An awkward silence then filled the room. No one was really quite sure of what to do next. Tara turned to AJ.

"So… what do we do now?" Tara asked, awkwardly.

"Now," said AJ, pulling her cell phone out of her back pocket. "We figure out how to break into this place." She turned on her phone, and soon, a map of the city popped up, with a bright red dot placed on a random building. The girls huddled around the phone, and looked at the marked address. It wasn't their current location, but Tara had a feeling she knew where it was.

"Is that…"

"Yep," said AJ, knowing full well what Tara was thinking. "That's Discord's hideout. I placed a tracer on one of his henchman back at the bank. This must be where he went to."

"Great," said Pinky. "Now we can stop the bad guys, and be heroes and get presents and happiness and-"

"Um, Pinky," Fiona said quietly. "We don't know how to get into his hideout. It probably has a bunch of guards and traps."

"Well, let's take a look," said AJ, walking to the nearest computer in the room. After some fiddling around with the settings, she managed to gain access to images detailing Philadelphia from every angle. She typed in the address, and before she knew it, she had a full 3D profile of the target building. Tara looked at the images, and thought hard.

"Guys," she said, taking a seat at the computer. "I might need some time alone with this to think of something. Can you leave the room for a few minutes?" The girls nodded and left the room.

They patiently waited outside. It was approaching 3 o'clock, yet everyone was feeling tired. After thirteen minutes alone, Tara entered the hallway, happy with her plan.

"Do you think we can do it?" asked Rachel anxiously. Tara smiled at her.

"Oh, I know we can do it," Tara said confidently. "But we have to do it tonight." The girls grew worried, AJ in particular.

"But Tara," she reasoned. "Wilson will never give us the permission to complete something in just a few hours."

"I know," said Tara. "Which is why he'll never know." The others gasped.

"You mean we're gonna have to completely disobey the high authority, and go all stealthy on this motherfucker?" said Dash. Tara nodded. Dash grinned. "You may not be so bad after all, Spark."

"Oh, and one last thing," Tara added. "One of you is going to have to be a distraction for the guards." The girls looked at each other. Rachel was curious about the plan, and spoke up.

"What do you mean 'distract'?" she questioned. "Do you mean like, we have to shoot at them, or just draw their attention. Because if so, then how do we attract a bunch of psychopaths to-" Rachel paused, and looked around at the others. They were all smiling at her.

"Why is everybody looking at me like that?"

__________

It was now eight o'clock. If all went to plan, the attack would occur in two hours' time. Still, there a few loose ends to tie up. AJ had left to get the proper clothing, leaving the rest of the girls alone in the base. Rachel was nervously waiting for AJ to show up with her attire, but as that was still far from occurring, she decided to practice hand-to-hand combat with Fiona. Pinky was happily distracting General Wilson with a long, complicated story about the time she thought she saw a UFO. By the time it was over, the General would hopefully be retreating to his quarters for sleep. But Tara had a much more difficult task. She was standing at a gun range, holding a weapon in her hand. She raised the gun to take a shot. She knew she would have to take lives in this job, and she was prepared to do so. But when she raised the gun to the target, all she saw was a man staring back at her, ready to kill. Instead of giving her drive, it made her put the gun back down and briefly walk away from the shooting range. She couldn't do it. She didn't know why, but it just felt wrong to her. The idea of killing someone, no matter who they were or what they had done, disgusted her. She supposed that deep down, it was actually quite a good thing. It proved that she wasn't a psychopath, or that she was going to turn into a deranged lunatic. But she was in the unfortunate predicament of having to kill people on a regular basis.

She walked towards the wall of weapons, and took a look at the large assortment of weaponry placed on the walls. She noticed that not just guns were hanging from the wall, but a large variation of knives, explosives, blades, and other practical ways to kill. Tara distasted the guns. She could only imagine the innocents brought down by such horrid weaponry, living happy lives before they were immediately torn apart from the inside. She had never truly examined such guns up close before. She believed that they should be kept around, of course, for the sake of protection, but she also felt that she would become extremely ill if she were to ever use such a device on someone. She examined the wall, feeling slightly sicker with every piece of equipment she saw.

But then something caught her eye. Out of all of the exotic equipment, there was one standing out. It was suspended far away from the others, in the far right corner. And unlike the other guns proudly displayed for all to see, this object was displayed in a long, grey box. It was just within Tara's reach, so she grabbed it and pulled it off of the shelf. She carefully placed the box on the ground, and removed its lid. She gasped at what she saw. Inside the case was a sword placed within a sheath, decorated beautifully. The dark red wood was elegantly carved with dancing animals, encircling each other as they ran along the length of the sheath. Tara had no idea how long it would take for someone to make that kind of detail. Everywhere she looked, there was some new thing peering out at her. A hidden tiger face, a family of lions. It completely astounded her.

"Isnt it a beauty?"

A voice from behind her made Tara jump. She turned and saw Celestia standing behind her. Celestia picked up the sword, still in its wooden holster, and examined it.

"Now this," explained Celestia. "Is from a long time ago. Roughly, about one thousand years ago. This was made by some blacksmith in Japan, whose name has been lost to time. It was actually found by me back in the ninety's. This beauty survived a flood, and I found it in wreckage along the beach. It was practically unharmed. So I took it back with me. There's not much use for it now, but I like to keep it around for decoration." She unsheathed the blade, revealing it to the light for the first time in years. Time had been kind to it, as it looked almost brand new. Tara was stunned by the beauty of its craftsmanship.

"It's kind of weird to see it placed here," sighed Tara.

"What do you mean by that?" Celestia questioned her.

"Well," said Tara, trying to explain herself. "It's just that looks so beautiful, and yet you put here next to all this death. It just doesn't really seem like it deserves to be here." Celestia sighed.

"You know," she said sadly. "Sometimes I wonder that too. When you're in this business, you see a lot of death. A lot of good people dying for a good cause. But it's all so brutal. Back when this sword was made, death used to have some honor to it. To die by a blade was the considered the best way to go. You were guaranteed a place in heaven for your courage and your heart. But not anymore." By this point, Celestia was more talking to herself than to Tara, but Tara was still following along with every word. Celestia the handed the sword over to Tara, who nervously accepted it. The blade was thirty inches long, yet was surprisingly light in her hands. She even took a few practice swings with it. She firmly held it in her hands. Compared to the other weapons hung from the wall, the sword was like the Mona Lisa. Celestia started to walk away from the girl, but stopped and turned back around.

"By the way," Celestia said. "I notice you're having trouble handling a weapon. Think of it like this: for every man you may strike down, a hundred more lives will be saved. Families will stay together, and great heartbreak will be avoided. Think of it as the beauty in death. When you are in this business, it's the one thing that'll keep you going."

And with that, Celestia left Tara to her own devices. And yet, Tara continued to hold the blade in her hands, mulling over Celestia's words in her head.

Beauty in death, thought Tara, gazing at the blade. Beauty in death.

__________

Despite being the cover for a massive drug operation, and being the headquarters of one of the world's most dangerous terrorists, one could not say that 63 Worthington Street looked well protected. Of course, it housed many criminals and murderers alike, but none of them were ever left to actually guard the building.

"If we put a shit ton of guards out here," once spoke Discord in a speech to his men. "Then we're not really livin' on the edge. Chaos, boys. If we don't uphold it, then no one will."

However, several men had taken it upon themselves to stand guard outside of the building, just in case trouble arose. It was a simple setup. Two men stood by the doors, weapons concealed in case of cops suddenly showing up, and two snipers located on the roofs of the buildings from across the street. With their eyes sharply locked on the doorway, no one stood a chance of getting by them. Although the night was cold, the men had no trouble entertaining themselves. This was due to the many young ladies who happened to pass by the building every evening. Staring at the young beauties could occupy the men for hours. But tonight was cold, and few women passed by the building at the late hour. Still, the men hoped to be entertained tonight, and soon, something unusual happened. It was a combination of all the right things. Her violet hair brilliantly flowing behind her, the dark red lipstick, the black eyeshadow, the rather light amount of clothing she decided to wear. They should have thought it unusual that someone would be wearing incredibly small shorts, an expensive purse, and a very low cut top in the current weather, but they didn't care. All they could focus on was the barely-legal teen strutting by them.

"Damn, girl, you're looking pretty fine!" called one guard out to her.

"Hell yeah, baby!" called out the other guard. The stunning girl smiled at them, and then blew them each a kiss, followed by a wink. As she was walking away from them, the guards went back to their job of waiting for trouble. But trouble found someone else. A figure wearing a black hoodie was approaching from the opposite direction. Without warning, she burst into a full sprint, knocked over the violet haired girl, and snatched her purse. As the girl fell over, she let out a yelp. The guards noticed her predicament, and without truly thinking, one of the guards pulled out his gun and shot the assailant in the back. While it didn't seem natural to him to help people, he felt like he would do anything for the beauty that had caught his eye. The robber let out a cry and collapsed to the ground, the purse rolling onto the floor. After a brief pause, the men raced over to help the beauty to her feet. As they helped her, she immediately hugged one guard very tightly.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she shouted as she clutched the man tightly. He felt as if he was in heaven, having such a lovely lady pressed so tightly against him. The other guard ran over to the robber's body. He pulled back the hood, letting a multi-colored mess of hair fall to the ground. He noticed that she was groaning.

"Hey," he shouted to his friend still being crushed in a tight grip. "This bitch is still alive. What do we do with her?" The other guard thought about this.

"How about we send her up to Discord? That'll teach this cunt not to mess with the beautiful ladies of the city." The other guard chuckled at the thought. He grabbed onto her limp body, and carried her to the entrance of the building. He opened the door, and tossed her inside. Three more guards stared at the body now lying before them.

"Take her to Discord," simply said the man, not wanting to spend another moment away from the girl outside. The men simply nodded, and began to drag her body deeper into the building. The guard returned to his friend.

"Don't worry," he said, trying to act heroic. "That bitch will be taken care of." The girl smiled kindly at him.

"Oh, thank you ever so much," she said happily. "You two are the best gentlemen I've ever seen." She pressed her chest into the other man, making him feel very comfortable.

"Oh, anything for a lady like you," he said nonchalantly. Suddenly the girl started to rub circles on his chest sensually, as a sly smile spread on her face. The two men looked at each other, wondering if what they actually thought was happening, was in fact reality.

"You know," she shyly said, drawing the men in. "Since you two did so much to help me, I think I should find a proper way to… repay you." She giggled softly to herself; the sexual tension so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The two men grew giant grins on their faces, as the girl removed herself from the grip of the man, and beckoned them to follow her into an alley way. They eagerly followed her into the dark alley, thinking of all the possibilities that awaited them. Meanwhile the snipers had been watching carefully from their vantage point, following the movements of the people below. When the men disappeared into the alley, out of sight, they turned to face one another.

"Those lucky motherfuckers," said one sniper. The other one sighed.

"How come they get the pussy and we don't?" asked the other sniper, disgruntled. "I mean, we work just as hard as the-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence, as a bullet tore through his skull in a split second. The other sniper felt one second of confusion, followed by a brief moment of panic, before he too was shot dead from afar. From two buildings over, Pinky observed their corpses from the scope of her own sniper rifle, checking to see if they were dead. After the confirmation, she realigned her sights to check into the alley way. What she witnessed was Rachel, muttering to herself about her clothing, and standing over the bodies of two unconscious guards. Pinky checked on Rachel's status over an earpiece, connecting to all members of the team.

"Everything good from down there, Rachel?" asked Pinky from over the radio. Rachel groaned in response.

"Yeah, it's fine," responded Rachel, clearly annoyed. "I can't believe I have to wear this sluttish thing. This all better be worth it, Tara."

"Don't worry," responded Tara over the earpiece. She and AJ had just finished climbing the building on which the corpses lay, and were now setting up equipment. They were careful to avoid stepping in the remains that now were splattered over the roof. It made Tara feel rather uncomfortable, although AJ didn't seem to mind. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen gore before. "Phase One of the operation is a success, ladies. Now, Fiona, are you ready?"

"Uh… yeah," responded a soft voice over the radio. "I think so…"

"Good," said Tara, watching AJ set up a powerful weapon that AJ had brought along with her. It wasn't entirely unfair though, as Tara did bring along her own little surprise, as well.

"Let Phase Two commence."

__________

As she was being dragged around the building, Dash opened her eyes and took a look around. The force of the bullet stung, but she could live with. After all, she could have forgotten to put the Kevlar vest under her jacket. But she was fine, which was unaware to the guards as they moved her to a staircase. She was in a large, open lobby, surrounded by men busy working. Some of them were walking around with guns as a small security force. Others were beating someone to death in the corner, as they stomped around in a pool of blood. But most people were standing around four large tables placed along the left wall. Large piles of white powder were covering the tables, as men were scraping bits off and shoveling them into bags, before throwing them into the corner of the room.

Heh, thought Dash. Pinky would love it here.

Eventually, the criminals came to a main stairwell, and dragged Dash along up the stairs, which she could not say was a comfortable feeling. She felt each step bang against her chest and legs, but she sucked up the pain and told herself to quit being so pathetic. They were now on the second story, which was actually the second highest floor, as the building was rather short in height. This floor contained many large generators, all of which completed goals that Dash didn't even know existed. The many cables all ran to a set of monitors at the end of the room. Several men were looking over the monitors, carefully checking over the many items listed on the screens. All of the drug shipments, assassination contracts, political records and more were being scrolled through methodically, making sure everything was in perfect order. Eventually, Dash was dragged to a simple wooden door next to the monitors, which led to a small stairwell. After being forced up more steps, Dash eventually came to Discord's chambers.

And what bizarre chambers they were.

A long red carpet had been laid out from the door, leading to a large rocking chair. Discord sat comfortably on his chair, twirling his gun on his finger, more occupied with doing tricks than the girl being dragged before him. The rest of the room was empty, save for Lloyd and Clyde, who were having a deep conversation about the most recent murders they had committed. Two of the guards left, as one stood beside Dash, and held up her head for Discord to see.

"Lord Discord," said the guard. "We have a new play thing for you." Discord sat up from his chair and walked towards Dash, creepily smiling at her.

"Here," Dash muttered. Discord rolled his eyes.

"Of course you're here," said Discord. "You've done something very bad. We're going to have to punish you." He spoke as if he were scolding a small child, saying each word very clearly so that Dash would understand. "Now, we're going to play a little game. Do you like games?"

"Here," Dash repeated. She really just wanted to punch Discord in the face, but she knew she had to follow through with the plan. All she could do was get the message across to the others as she bided her time. So for now, she continued to play near-dead, pretending that she was wavering out of consciousness. To her, the acting was phenomenal, and Discord didn't seem to notice anything. He ignored her comments, though, and continued on.

"We're going to play a fun game," Discord began. "First, I'm going to cut all of your limbs off. Then, I'm going to dump you into boiling water, to clean up that pretty little face of yours. And after that lovely display, I will slowly cut a-"

Discord paused. Something about the girl in front of him sparked a memory in his mind. She looked extremely similar, although he did not know why. He felt like he had seen her somewhere before. But where? He grabbed her face tightly and examined it, taking in the details. Her eyes, her teeth, her hair, her voice. Everything felt so familiar.

Then it hit him. Two memories at once. The first was of the girl's face. He had seen her before. In fact, it had been just this morning that he saw her. She was driving the car that was chasing his men today, and he nearly killed her. Nearly. She had barely escaped with her life, due to a weapon malfunction. And now, she was kneeling right in front of him, trying to stay alive.

The second memory was more troubling. It was a message from his boss, a warning about a group of girls that were investigating the many acts of terrorism that he helped commit. He put two and two together, and came to a very nasty conclusion. He angrily turned towards the guard.

"You brought her in here?" he snarled. The guard was confused, seeing no problem with Dash being present in the building. Without allowing time for the guard to respond, Discord took aim and killed his guard with a quick shot to the head. And after a brief look at Dash, he shot her point blank in the chest. The force of the gunshot sent her flying backwards. She screamed, but her cry faded as her body grew limp. She stopped moving entirely, as Discord turned to yell at Lloyd and Clyde.

"If she's here," he explained. "Then the others may not be far behind. We need to get this place fucking locked down! There's no telling wher-"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM

A sudden explosion rocked the building, sending its occupants to the ground. A sense of panic flew through the criminals, unsure of what to do. As panic spread throughout the building, Discord realized that he had to have been tracked back to the base.

"FUCK!" he shouted. He pulled out his gun and moved towards his chair at the back of the room. "Man, the boss isn't going to be happy about this…"

Boss, thought Dash, who, despite a stinging pain in her chest and loud explosions shaking the building, was able to focus on Discord's words very clearly. Who the fuck is he talking about?

__________

Phase Two was going perfectly. After Dash had confirmed that Discord was in the building, AJ started to launch rockets from an RPG at the target. No one necessarily had to die, but any casualties would not be regretted. As AJ continued to fire her massive RPG, Pinky took the careful time to ensure that no one left the building. Anyone who got close to the doors would be instantly shot dead. This fear immediately caused the entire central base to be locked down from the outside. And, while Pinky guaranteed that no one tried to leave, she also helped provide ample cover for Fiona and Tara to enter.

Ever since she looked at the schematics for Discord's base, Tara knew it had to be linked to a major operating network. It was located directly next to a power hub, and she knew that Discord controlled a massive criminal operation. So, once she knew that she could cripple the entire crime organization from a single computer, she thought of the perfect solution: Fiona.

Now, as Fiona raced past the many gangsters on her way to the second floor, she tried her best not to be seen. It wasn't particularly challenging. She had avoided people's attention for most of her life, and it also helped that most of the criminals were so scared by the rapid explosions that they weren't even attempting to shoot at her. She easily raced her way up the stairs and dashed to the other end of the hall, where the large computer monitors were hanging against the wall. She looked around as she ran, hoping that no one would see her. It appeared that most people had escaped to the bottom floor in chaos, although some of the more unfortunate criminals were discarded on the floor. She tried her best not to look at the corpses as she reached the monitors. She followed Tara's instructions, and pulled a flash drive out of her back pocket.

"Remember," Tara had said to her. "All you have to do is plug the flash drive into the hardware and upload the file. The virus should take care of everything from there."

Fiona felt a surge of accomplishment when she prepared to plug the flash drive into the computer. But then, she froze. There was no hard drive, or processing unit, or anything else near the monitors. She gulped as she turned round to face the thirty or so machines placed all around the room.

And she realized she had no idea where she was supposed to plug in the virus.

__________

Dash kept her eyes shut, to best keep up the illusion of her demise. All she could use were her ears, a process which was constantly interrupted by AJ's RPG. From what she could tell, Discord had retreated to his self-made throne, while Clyde and Lloyd were quickly moving about the room, perhaps in a state of deep panic. Currently, Lloyd had his back pressed to the only door in the room, while Clyde was running around searching for a weapon. All he had was a small knife, and he knew that wouldn't be enough to stop a rocket from striking him in the chest.

"Aren't you gonna help me find shit, man?!" Clyde shouted out to his friend. Lloyd was refusing to move, using the door as a safety blanket to protect him from harm.

"Fuck you, Clyde!" Lloyd shouted back, as another explosion rocked the building. He could hear the screams coming from the gangsters down beneath him. "Every man for himself!"

"You piece of fat piece of shit!" yelled Clyde, desperately running around the room, searching for anything. But the room was bare, save for the rocking chair that was specifically saved for Discord.

"I'm just being reasonable, you asshole!" retorted Lloyd, who thought he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Reasonable?"

"Yeah!" said Lloyd confidently. "I can't wait for you to get blown to pieces! I'll watch you fucking burn! And then, when you're nice and extra fucking crispy, I'll walk over your fucking corpse, and get the FUCK OUTTA HERE! WHAT DO YA THINK OF THAT, YOU GOD DAMN, PIECE OF SHIT?!"

SHNK

Both men froze. Clyde kept staring at Lloyd on shock, unable to think. Lloyd slowly looked down at his own body. A long sword had been shoved through his back, and was now sticking at least a foot out of his chest. Crimson blood poured out of the wound. He didn't feel any pain, just an empty numbness. He looked back up at Clyde, before the blade was retracted from his body, and back through the door. Lloyd died before he ever hit the ground. The door was kicked in, and it landed on Lloyd's body. Clyde looked up at the killer, and was surprised with what he saw.

A teenage girl, wearing a black jumpsuit, with enough pouches and spaces to hold enough equipment to kill every single person in the building. By her side, she was holding a thirty inch-long sword, and she was glaring at him from beneath her bright pink bangs. She raised her sword towards him.

"Get on the ground. Now," she commanded. Clyde didn't listen, being too dumbfounded with what was happening before him.

"What…the…fuck," he muttered to himself.

"I said, GET. ON. THE. GROUND." She started to approach him with the blade outstretched, still covered in Lloyd's blood. Clyde took out his knife instead, and got in a fighting stance. He growled.

"You killed Lloyd, you little bitch," he spat at her. "You want to have a knife fight; I'll show you a fucking knife fight!"

He charged at her fast, and Tara had to quickly roll out of the way. She recovered, and took a swing with her blade. Clyde managed to step back, avoiding the sword. He countered by lunging the knife forward, but Tara sidestepped the attack, and elbowed him hard in the face. The impact caused him to release the knife, sending it sliding on the ground towards Dash. A fist flew up and struck Tara hard in the chest, knocking her off her balance. Clyde then tackled her to the ground, and shoved his fists towards her throat, blocking off her airway. He started to choke her, and he could feel her struggling beneath his own weight. For a brief moment, he was happy. Then, a knife was plunged into the back of his neck, causing him to lose all feeling. Dash shoved him off of Tara, and then proceeded to stab him repeatedly in the chest, as blood spurted from his wounds. Dash plunged the knife into his chest one final time, burying it in his heart. She helped Tara to her feet.

"Thanks," Tara breathed out.

"Thank Kevlar," Dash replied. The two turned towards the rocking chair, ready to fight Discord. But he wasn't there. In fact, the room seemed to be completely empty.

"Where is he?" asked Tara to her colleague. Dash shrugged.

"I don't know, Spark. He was here a minute ago."

The duo walked around the room, searching for Discord. But he was nowhere to be found. Instead, Tara discovered something interesting in the back wall. There was a small gap between the back wall and the corner of the room, just small enough for someone to squeeze through. Tara called Dash over, and the two managed to force their way through the gap in the wall. What they managed to find was a small room, only about ten feet wide. The room smelled of death, and it was no wonder why. Lying before them was the guard that had brought Dash up to Discord's chamber. Although now, multiple knife wounds were located all over his body. Tara noticed a panel in the floor, which she realized must have been a secret exit out of the building. However, she didn't focus on that for long Instead, she and Dash were both looking at the wall, where a message had been painted using the guard's own blood.

Fear The Unknown, for he does not fear you.

"What the fuck do you think that means?" asked Dash. Tara herself had no idea, and simply shrugged in response. The chaos was finally dying down, and Tara realized that the noise had finally attracted the attention of the cops. Tara simply hoped that the cops in question were at least honest enough to keep the Smiling Dragons under arrest.

"It doesn't matter," Tara said, sheathing her sword. "Discord may be gone, but at least we put a halt to his crime organization. We're done here."

"Uh, Tara," came a low voice over the radio.

"Yeah, Fiona?"

"This might sound bad, but… where do I plug in the flash drive?"

__________

It was almost an hour later when the girls finally returned to the base, but it was a joyous trip home. They had managed to avoid the police, take out a major drug shipment, and cause the arrest of about one hundred criminals, all in one night. The walk back to the base consisted of stories told from each girl's perspective, compliments of the others' acts, and, especially, congratulating Tara for her masterful plan. The girls had finally seemed to be getting on good terms with one another. Even Dash was talking to Rachel about their stellar acting abilities, and Tara had actually thought that things may not end up so horribly. AJ had renewed faith in the team as well, believing that if all operations were as successful as the one tonight, they could actually be quite a functional group. At last, the girls finally reached the base, gleeful that their long day was over. As the girls entered the base, Tara spoke up about something she had been mulling over for the past hour.

"Camelot," she said. The other girls looked at her, confused. "I think we should name the base 'Camelot'. The peaceful, orderly place in times of great distress. I think it fits quite nicely."

And so, it was decided that the name of the base shall forever be referred to as Camelot, and as the girls reached the door to their sleeping quarters, they believed the day could not get better.

They opened the door, and found Celestia waiting for them, an angry look on her face.

"You could have gotten yourselves killed," Celestia sternly stated, glaring at the girls, who were now shocked at this announcement.

"You… you knew?" asked Fiona nervously.

"Of course, I knew," Celestia said, almost offended. "What do you take me for? An idiot? I've been tracking your movements all night."

The P.O.N.Y's didn't know what to say. They had honestly thought that no one knew what they had done tonight.

"You caused mass destruction, fought a terrorist, all with little-to-no experience whatsoever, I might add, and you thought you could fool me? That is shameful, not to mention all of the government funded equipment you wasted, including that virus, which took years of research to develop. We should immediately shut you down for this."

Tara had never felt such shame. She felt as if she let everyone down. She failed as a leader. She failed as a soldier. And most importantly, she failed as a friend. Celestia sighed.

"But," she added, her voice becoming softer. "You also took down one of the biggest crime lords in the world, while having little-to-no experience, and having no idea what you were doing. You did in one day what could have taken us years to do. And you proved to not only be incredibly valuable, but incredibly talented at what you do. And I suppose for that, you're off the hook."

An instant wave of relief washed over the girls, long with a sense of satisfaction. Even Celestia managed to smile briefly, but she soon returned to a more serious tone.

"But there is one thing we need to discuss," she said. The girls to her. "When I was listening in on your earpieces, I heard Discord mention something about his 'boss'. And apparently, he left some message about the 'Unknown'."

"So," questioned Tara, unsure of where Celestia was headed.

"So," Celestia finished. "We thought Discord was a lone wolf, just a random blip on the radar. But now, it appears that there might be much more to this than we think. He might be working for someone, someone powerful enough to control one of the world's greatest criminal enterprises. And whoever this…'Unknown' is, if Discord is willing to serve him, he may be a much bigger threat than we can imagine."

On that somber note, she stood up, and walked out of the room. But before she left, she added,

"Enjoy tonight's victory, girls," she said with a half-smile. "And get some rest. God knows you'll need it." And with that, she retreated to her chambers, leaving the girls alone for the night.

__________

"You failed," said the highest member of the council. Discord felt annoyed with himself. He wasn't one to take things seriously, but he knew that he really wanted to join up with the other members of the council. They were the real deal to him.

"It won't happen again, boss," Discord said, somberly.

"Of course, it shouldn't," said the high councilman. "I should just let Sombra here tear you limb from limb." Sombra smirked.

"The King likes this idea," Sombra said with a chuckle, taking another puff of his cigar.

"Come one, give me another chance to prove myself," Discord pleaded. "I know just how to take care of 'em. Those men doin my drug work, they weren't really loyal to me. They were mostly just in it for the cash. But my true soldiers, now, those are some special guys."

"Ha!" laughed Sombra. "You know that even one hundred of your best men could not defeat someone like me. The King, in fact, is worth more than all of your men combined."

"Now, now, Sombra," said Chrysalis. "I say give him a shot. He can't do any worse. Besides, no reason to waste our power when someone like him will do it for free."

"Excellent point, Chrysalis," said the leader of the villainous group. "Okay, Discord, one last chance. Don't fuck it up."

"Yes, sir," bowed Discord. "Once you see my Hound Dog Unit in action, you won't need any substitute."

"Oh, and one last thing," said the councilman. "That thing you wrote on the wall in your base. The 'Unknown'. Why did you write that?"

"Oh," said Discord. "I thought that you needed a name that people remembered, people were scared of, something that embodied the true feeling of terror. And what is more terrifying than what people don't know about, my good sir?"

"I like it," spoke Moon. "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Besides, we don't know your real name. You need an alias, at least for common purposes."

The head of the council considered this, and then finally agreed.

"If you all wish that to be my new name, then fine," the councilman spoke. "Discord, go and prove yourself. After all, the people do need to realize that The Unknown is worth fearing."

End of Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Inner Demons (The Monster Who Sought Hate)

Chapter 3: Inner Demons

Part 1 of 2: The Monster Who Sought Hate

October 11th, 2015

"I said, get on the ground! You're completely surrounded!" shouted Police Sargent McCoy, who had his gun trained on his enemy. There was not much of a police force in his town, but they had funneled all they could into catching the target. And what a target he was. A mass murderer, who had been on an unstoppable killing spree for the past week, was finally in their sights, just an hour before midnight. Every time they got close, he had always managed to slip away just before they found him. This man had also been responsible for the deaths of five cops, who McCoy had happened to know rather well. But now, police cars surrounded the man on every side, blocking of his escape, and roughly 20 cops had their guns pointed at him. The man, however, didn't try to run. Instead, he stood calmly in the center of the cops, none of which dared to approach him. McCoy took a long look at the man who was causing the town so much difficulty. He wore dark clothing, which included a long black trench coat, coming to a stop just above his feet. His goatee neatly was neatly groomed, and his black hair was combed into place. He almost looked charming for a homicidal maniac, and if a bystander were to pass by, they would think nothing wrong of him. Unless, of course, they were to look at what he was holding. In his hand was a long, black sword, extravagantly detailed with Japanese characters, which proved the sword of its worth.

"What are you waiting for?" the man called out to McCoy, who tightened his grip on his weapon. His voice wasn't wavering, and it was almost as if he was prompting the cops to shoot at him.

"Why should we waste our bullets on someone like you?" McCoy taunted. The man simply smiled back at him, and chuckled to himself.

"You shouldn't be underestimating me, Sargent," said the man, with confidence in his voice. "If you were wise, you'd take me down now, before something bad happens." McCoy smiled back at him.

"You're surrounded," he stated. "Besides, I'd much rather see you rot in a cell for the rest of your life." Then he called out to the cop standing next to him. "Bucky, cuff him already."

But Bucky looked incredibly nervous about moving towards. "But… what if he attacks me?"

"We've got our sights trained on him," assured McCoy. "He aint moving unless we want him to."

Nervously, Bucky stepped out from behind the cover of the car, and slowly walked towards the murderer. As he approached, he slowly took out his handcuffs, and gestured towards the man.

"P-put your h-hands in the a-air," Bucky said, unable to hide the fear in his voice. Bucky knew full well that this man had managed to take out five cops and kill twelve innocent civilians. There was no telling what he could do. The man sighed to himself, and then, much to Bucky's relief, put his hands in the air, despite actually never releasing the sword. His hands were held high above his head, and Bucky felt a sigh of relief, and a burst of confidence. Maybe, he realized, this man wasn't so much of a threat. Or maybe he was, but the cool, confident, charmingly handsome Bucky managed to put the man in handcuffs, and drag him to the big house. Then, Bucky felt the strangest feeling. He saw the man smile at him, before he felt as if something had passed through him, like a ghost.

That's a funny feeling, Bucky thought to himself.

Then everything turned black, as his head rolled off his shoulders, and fell to the ground with a thud.

"FIRE!"

The police immediately opened fire onto the man, except he was no longer there. Where what once stood a confident swordsman with eighteen murders hanging over him, was now a cloud of black smoke. McCoy looked around for any signs of the man. Then he heard screaming, as a black puff of smoke appeared behind a cop, and a sword immediately sliced through his body. The cops opened fire again, but now more screams of panic echoed around them, as more bodies fell to the ground. McCoy looked around him trying to keep up with the screams and gunshots, but all he could see was smoke. He would occasionally see the man cutting through a cop, before instantly vanishing in more smoke. The screams grew more, and panic spread, before it was suddenly and instantly silenced. Everything stopped around McCoy, and he nervously looked around. He saw bodies all around him, limbs tossed about the ground, and with a startling realization, he knew that everyone was dead.

Everyone, except for him.

"What the…."he stuttered, seeing all of the violence around him. He was very much afraid for his life. He spoke to himself, "How the fuck did he do that?"

"How indeed…" came a voice from behind him. He spun around to face the man, and was immediately greeted with a sword through his chest. Blood started to pour from his mouth, and he realized what had happened to him. He had never even heard the man coming from behind him. He noticed the strange black smoke that was dissipating around the man. McCoy looked at the man's face. He was grinning with pride, as he examined his work. His eyes were strange, as a deep, orange hue seemed to emanate from them, casting a small glow over his face. There was emptiness to them, and McCoy could feel the hate pouring off of this man. The sword itself was now glowing too, the characters cast in the same orange hue, now that they had been drenched in blood. McCoy looked deep into the man's eyes as he struggled for his final breaths.

"You're… you're the fucking devil, aren't you," he managed to breathe out as he felt his consciousness fading. The man chuckled at the comment.

"Oh, Sargent," he said with a smile. "I thought I told you not to underestimate me."

__________

October 12th, 2015

Fiona awoke in a cold sweat. She looked around her, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She was in her sleeping quarters, with the rest of her teammates. Their beds were built into the walls, in two stacks of three, and Fiona had the unlucky fortune of being stuck in the middle of her column. She was constantly greeted with sounds from Dash snoring beneath her, and Rachel talking in her sleep above her. But it wasn't so terrible, as she had the privilege to be across from her best friend, who, at this time, was in a deep sleep. At the very least, it gave her a direct line of contact with Tara, but she couldn't take advantage of it now that the other girl was sleeping. She also saw AJ, who had now taken residence with the other girls in order to better improve their relationships. Each of them made their own unusual sleeping sound. But, out of all of the sounds that these girls unknowingly made during their slumber, none of them had woken her up. The actual cause was a rather troublesome nightmare that she had been dealing with.

It must be that time of year again, Fiona thought, somberly.

How long had it been? Five, maybe six years? She had lost count, and she opted not to think of it. She knew that she could not go back to sleep, as her dreams would stalk her there, and never seem to leave her alone. Instead, she decided to think of the week's events and what was to come, in order to soothe her thoughts.

The past seven days had shown remarkable improvement for the entire team. Everyone had begun to properly pick up the tools of the trade, and under Tara's strong, intelligent leadership, everybody learned much faster. Fiona had still refused to use a gun, but in turn, her hand-to-hand combat improved drastically. She was a quick learner, and she actually felt like she was accomplishing something. Of course, the other team members were picking up new talents as well, most notably being Tara's swordsmanship abilities. It was almost unfortunate, then, that crime had dropped rapidly. Due to the takedown of Discord's major operation, his gang activities had practically ceased. In order to keep in practice, Wilson had decided to send the girls off investigating murders and robberies around the cities, all of which were missions that had been met with great success. The girls' moral boosted dramatically, and they started to become more comfortable with each other's presence. Dash had complained less, AJ began acting more like a normal girl of her own age, and Rachel had ceased trying to give Fiona a makeover. The only dramatic change that had not truly occurred in was Pinky, which Fiona assumed was because of her supposed drug problem. In truth, the weeks ahead looked to much less chaotic, and this thought calmed Fiona a great deal. She shut he eyes again, and started to feel a mesmerizing twilight as she felt herself drifting away from consicousness.

Maybe I actually will get some sleep for once, Fiona thought happily, as her thoughts faded away.

WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH

Fiona's eyes shot open, as the alarms blared in the room, signaling for the girls to start the day. Fiona groaned, and shoved her head into her pillow.

Or maybe not, Fiona thought with discontent, as the other girls stirred around her. Tara nudged her shy friend.

"Come on, Fiona," Tara said. "Time to get up. We got a busy day of training ahead of us." Fiona begrudgingly got out of her bunk, changed into her exercise clothes with the rest of the girls, and headed out to the training area.

"Damn," moaned AJ. "I don't remember those alarms being so loud."

"Oh, I asked if the volume could be increased on the alarms," said Tara happily. Dash was quite upset with this, even more than AJ was.

"What the fuck, Spark," Dash said, annoyed. Tara shrugged.

"It helps to get you moving faster," Tara stated factually, and then added, "And don't call me Spark. I'm the leader, and you could try to treat me with a little more respect."

"I could have called you a stubborn bitch," said Dash under her breath. Tara heard this remark, and soon, a sharp battle of tongues occurred between the girls, which lasted throughout the training session. By ten o'clock, after seven hours of nonstop arguments, Fiona had heard enough of the banter, and honestly just wanted the day to end. But soon, Wilson and Celestia called the girls for a mission assignment. As they changed into more proper street attire, Fiona became secretly glad that Celestia let them borrow some money for clothes shopping. It allowed Fiona to get some hoodies once again, and she was very glad for this, as she felt naked with her face being exposed for all to see. In all honesty, she believed that the less attention she received, the better.

After a long wait for Rachel to get changed (she took nearly forty minutes to pick out an outfit, before Dash tackled her to the ground, and forced Rachel into some clothes, much to the discontent of the violet-haired girl), the girls arrived in the Briefing Room, with all of its computers and data storage.

"P.O.N.Y's," Wilson said with some chipper in his voice. "You're all going on a field trip." The girls were slightly confused with this news, except for Pinky, who happily hopped up and down.

"YAAAAAAAAAY!" she shouted with ecstatic glee. "Where are we going? Disney World? The Bahamas? CANADA?!"

"West Virginia," said Celestia, unenthused. "You're going to be investigating a series of murders occurring west of Charleston. It is of the highest importance."

"If I may ask," said AJ. "What's so important about these crimes that they need us? I don't mean no disrespect, but there are plenty of cases we could be covering here. Can't these guys just use the local police?"

"The police are mostly dead," responded Celestia, grimly. "Over thirty of them have been killed by this assailant. And they've all been killed in the same way: chopped to pieces by a sword. No firearms were involved."

"Not to mention that several witnesses reported seeing things of supernatural origin," added the General. "And according to some stories, he survived a police ambush all by himself, using just a blade. I very much doubt that these reports are true, but still, it's worth looking into, just to see who could be behind these murders."

"Not to mention, this could have something to do with Discord's boss," Tara sharply added.

"Correct," said Celestia. "So, your mission is to travel to Haddonfield, and discover the cause of these criminal acts. Transportation has been provi-"

"Wait," came a small voice from the back of the group. They turned to look at Fiona, who looked shocked. She didn't even notice that the others were staring at her, as she was trying to make sure she heard Celestia correctly. "Did… did you just say… 'Haddonfield'?"

"Yes, yes I did," confirmed Celestia. Fiona seemed to grow more fearful with this confirmation. Tara, concerned for her friend, tried to comfort find out what was troubling her.

"What's wrong, Fiona?" asked Tara. Fiona gulped.

"It's…it's just that," Fiona had trouble saying what she wanted to. To be honest, she even had difficulty knowing what should be said. "I… I grew up in Haddonfield."

Tara was immediately calmed by this. She figured that Fiona was simply shocked that such a series of horrible events were happening in her hometown. In due time, Tara was quite sure that her friend would be alright.

"Oh, well that's perfect, then," Tara said cheerily, trying to lighten Fiona's mood. "You can show us around. It it'll be much easier that way."

"Well, actually…" Fiona started to argue, but was cut off by General Wilson.

"Time to get a move on, girls," he stated. It's a long drive, so you'll have to find a place to rest. We've already packed your bags, and your transportation is waiting out front. Good luck." With that, the girls proceeded above ground, heading through the Chinese restaurant to see what vehicle they had been given to take the seven hour drive.

"What do you think it'll be?" asked Rachel, excitedly. "Maybe a limousine, or a luxurious cab, of sort."

"I just hope it's fast," said Dash under her breath. So, of course, the girls showed complete enthusiasm when they walked outside, and saw a large white van parked outside, which, despite being large enough to hold all of them, was not in any way spectacular in appearance or performance. The girls' mood deflated, as Dash begrudgingly accepted responsibility for driving the car. But Tara instantly refused.

"I've seen your driving, Dash," Tara stated. "I don't think you should be behind the wheel."

"That was a fucking high speed pursuit, Spark," Dash said. "My driving was completely acceptable."

"But you almost got Fiona and Pinky killed," Tara stated factually. Dash groaned.

"Fine, you drive," Dash said. "Have fun for the next the seven hours." Tara climbed in the front seat, Fiona sat next to her, and the rest of the girls piling into the back. They then headed off on their long drive, as they thought of the danger ahead, and, more importantly, ways to pass the time.

Luckily for them, Pinky seemed to have no trouble with this, spending the next four hours telling stories about her life, the lives of her family members, the lives of other people she briefly met at parties, the parties that she met other people at, her likes, her dislikes, things she half-liked, things she liked to eat, candies she liked to eat, drinks she liked to drink, her immense drug problem, the theory of the multiverse, and the probability that they all actually lived in a computer simulation. Of course, by the time Pinky had reached those final three topics, Dash had tuned out all of the details into a long drone that was completely impossible to comprehend, and Dash had no idea what Pinky was actually saying. But Pinky didn't seem to notice, and she continued to talk in an endless loop. In the front of the car, however, Tara attempted to start a conversation with Fiona.

"So, I was thinking," started Tara. "If we are going to your hometown, why don't we stay your place?"

"No," Fiona said, a little too quickly. Tara was confused by the response.

"But," Tara asked. "Don't you want to see your family?" Fiona turned away from Tara, thinking of what to say.

"Well…no… it's just… I mean… we can't. Okay?" she stated, trying to hide her face. "I… I just don't want to talk about it now. But we have to stay somewhere else."

"Um…okay," stated Tara, very confused by Fiona's behavior. "I guess if you feel that strongly about it."

Tara didn't understand Fiona's wishes. After all,Tara would kill to see her family again. It had only been just over a month, but she missed her parents a great deal. She also desperately wanted to see her brother again. She hadn't seen him in three years, except on video chats, but even then, he was halfway around the world. Ever since he was shipped off to the Middle East, she felt almost as if a wedge had been driven between her family. The pain of separation was great, and it was a feeling she wouldn't wish on anyone.

And that was when she realized what was wrong with Fiona. She could see it in her eyes. Fiona was afraid of telling her family about what had happened, what she was currently doing, and who she was doing it with. She noticed how relaxed Fiona became when she found out she wasn't seeing her family. She had even said, 'I don't want to talk about it now'. And Tara was positive that she had solved this behavior predicament quite nicely. But she had to be one hundred percent sure.

"Fiona," Tara said softly. "I'm sure your family would be proud of what you are."

Fiona said nothing to this. She simply stared into an empty spot in space, as if she were thinking about it. Then, she turned away from Tara, and looked out the window.

"Can we please not talk about this now?" Fiona pleaded, not looking away from the window. Tara simply nodded, and focused on the road ahead of her. She knew Fiona would eventually feel brave enough to discuss everything with her. It was only a matter of time. And now, they continued on their long drive, as storm clouds loomed over the horizon.

__________

When they finally arrived in Haddonfield, it was nearly nine o'clock. Fiona had alerted them to the presence of a motel near the center of town. As Tara drove through the streets, she noticed the lack of people walking around, leaving an eerie stillness in the air. When they did finally arrive at the small motel, they realized there was a small problem: they would have to share rooms. It wasn't a large issue, as they had been sleeping in the same vicinity for a while now, but they did need to find roommates they were comfortable with. It didn't take long, however for the girls to bunk up with each other.

And almost immediately, AJ regretted pairing up with Rachel. Fiona and Tara had already gotten a room, so she assumed that Rachel would be the most courteous, least bothersome roommate. Unfortunately for her, she had no idea about Rachel's extensive "before-sleep ritual".

And what a ritual it was.

"How can I possibly sleep in these conditions?" Rachel complained while looking around the room. The rooms were quite simple, having a large bed placed against the center of the wall, and a small bathroom and closet located on the far end of the room. It was nothing spectacular, and that was Rachel's problem. AJ moaned as Rachel lied on the bed, and tried to get comfortable.

"This mattress is hard as bricks," Rachel said as she tossed and turned. AJ lied down on the floor at the foot of the bed, and started to drift into slumber, ignoring Rachel's complaints. Sometimes it helped to be trained to sleep anywhere, and through anything. And at this time, she was very happy for this ability.

Meanwhile, Pinky was running into a similar problem with the bed's consistency. She was attempting to jump up and down on the bed, but she was very disappointed with her bounce quality. Dash stood idly by, watching as Pinky tried different bouncing techniques to get the optimum performance. But alas, it was a futile effort, and she laid down on the bed, defeated.

"Man, this sucks," Pinky said, as Dash flopped on the bed besides her.

"Well, it's no problem for me," Dash said with a smirk. "I'm used to lying down on hard things." Pinky simply stared at her, completely missing the joke. Dash sighed.

"Sex," Dash said simply. "It's a sex joke."

"Ohhhhhhhh," Pinky nodded. Then she paused. "I still don't get it."

"Forget it," said Dash, who now shut her eyes to try to get to sleep.

Meanwhile, things were much calmer in Tara's room, however. This was primarily due to the fact that she understood her roommate. But despite this, they were currently arguing about a very trivial subject.

"You should have the bed," Fiona reasoned. Tara rolled her eyes, as she tried to get her point across for the fifth time.

"Fiona, I wouldn't feel right letting you sleep on the floor," Tara said.

"But you're the leader," Fiona argued, or at least the closest thing she could do to actually arguing. "You should be more comfortable than the rest of us."

"Being a leader means putting others before yourself," Tara stated factually. "So that means that you should sleep in dang bed. Besides, it's your town; you should at least be comfortable in it."

"But-"

"Just get in the bed already, Fiona," Tara said stubbornly. "That's an order." Fiona sighed and crawled into the bed, as Tara tried to make herself comfortable on the floor. Luckily for her, Fiona had given her the pillows and one of the blankets, making Tara much more comfortable. "Jeez, Fiona, sometimes your too nice for your own good."

"Sorry," Fiona said softly. "Anyway, good night, Tara."

"Good night," came the response from the floor. Fiona smiled at to herself at the laziness of Tara's words, and drifted off into sleep.

__________

As Malcom Witcherson's upper body hit the floor, while his lower body continued to stand very much in place, his wife, Danielle, screamed. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the corpse of the man she used to love so much. But now he was dead, cut down by a shimmering black sword. The man with the orange eyes sighed.

"I thought he was a former boxer," he said with discontent. "That was supposed to be much harder."

Danielle didn't understand his words, as the hate was flowing through her with such strength that everything became white noise. She looked around the kitchen for something, anything she could use to defend herself. Her luck came in the form of a pot she had left on the stove from the night's dinner. Without hesitation, she picked up the pot and threw it at the man. But before it struck him, a cloud of black smoke appeared, and he was gone. The pot sailed through the smoke and landed on the floor behind it. Danielle didn't understand what had happened. She looked at the black smoke, trying to see what happened to the man. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her head from behind, and a blade was brought up to her throat.

"I told you not to fight back," said the man, disappointment in his voice. He sounded as if he didn't want to do hurt her, but had no other choice. "Now, I guess I'm going to have to kill you too. Just in case."

And with that, he dragged the blade across her jugular, sending her blood splattering across her once beautiful home.

__________

Fiona's eyes shot open. There was a knocking at the door. Noticing that Tara was not awake, she got up, and, silently walking across the room cautiously opened the door. She was greeted by the sight of an average looking man, with an average looking face.

"Sorry to bother you ma'am," he said somberly. "I know it's late, but this rather important."

"Uh… yes?" Fiona nervously asked him.

"It's just that there's been another set of murders around here," he said. "Myself and the other members of the neighborhood watch are on the lookout for any more signs of trouble. Have you seen any suspicious activity around here, ma'am?"

"Sorry, I haven't seen anything," said Fiona softly, trying not to wake her friend. "We've just been sleeping this whole time." The man peeked in the room and noticed another girl was lying down on the floor, sleeping through their conversation. He sighed.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you two ladies. If you see anything, though, make sure to report it to the neighborhood watch, ASAP," he stated. "Make sure to stay indoors, too. There's a lot of trouble around town recently."

"Um…thank you," said Fiona, unsure of how to respond to the man's advice. He took off, and she shut the door. She quietly tiptoed back into her bed, and stared at the ceiling. She was actually secretly thankful that the man showed up when he did. She had only gotten two hours of sleep, and she knew that she wouldn't get any more. She was having the same nightmare again. It always haunted her, never leaving her alone when she wanted to. And it didn't help that she was back in Haddonfield. Out of all of the crime in the world, she had to be here. She didn't get it. This was the one place she never wanted to see again. But somehow, Wilson decided to send her back here, to this hellhole of a town. Had he not known what this place had done to her? He obviously had to know, right? She knew there was no way that he knew nothing about it, so then why did he send her back? It was just a mess that she didn't want to be involved in. And then, there was Tara, trying to reason with something she didn't understand. Tara was her best friend, but there were some things that she shouldn't know. Tara didn't know about it, right? How could she have known? Unless Wilson told her. But why would he do that?

Fiona sat in the dark, endless questions cycling through her mind. All she wanted was to stop this killer, and get out of this town as fast as possible. She almost jumped out of the door to catch this criminal in the act, do anything just to leave. But she knew that this investigation might take some time, and the longer she stayed in Haddonfield, the longer she felt like she would lose her mind.

__________

October 13th, 2015

When the team regrouped in the morning, Tara noticed that her friends looked very tired. Dash yawned, AJ stretched her back, Rachel rubbed her eyes, and Fiona stumbled about lazily.

"Am I the only one to get a decent night's sleep?" Tara wondered aloud.

"You try sleeping in a bed that does not follow standard chiropractic comfort standards," snapped Rachel, incredibly tired. AJ rolled her eyes.

"And y'all try sleeping in the same room as someone who sleeps on that bed," AJ moaned.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't be so bad if someone didn't tear the room apart looking for their precious little hat," Rachel snapped back. Tara managed to stop the fighting, and get the girls back on track.

"Okay, calm down," Tara ordered, and Rachel and AJ started their bickering. "Alright then, according to Fiona, apparently there were more murders last night, which means that the killer is still at large. I think our best course of action on this would be to split up and search for clues. Investigate all around town and see what we can find. We'll split up into three teams. Fiona and I will search around the north part of town. AJ and Rachel-"

"NO!" shouted both girls, simultaneously. It became quite clear to Tara that these girls might not get along so well, and she made a slight alteration to her plan.

"Okay then," she stated. "AJ, go with Dash and investigate the south end of town. Rachel and Pinky, you take the west side. We all have each other's cell phone numbers, in case something comes up. We'll report back here at two. Everybody cool with that?" She was met with nods and small words of agreement. With that, she gave the order to move out, and the team started their mission.

__________

As Fiona walked around the town, she noticed how little everything had changed. The central hub of stores was filed with people casually trolling around. A large lake was in the center of the town, with a fountain spewing water out back into the central water area. Memories came flooding back to her, every sight bringing back thoughts of older times. So Fiona looked away, keeping her eyes trained on her feet as she trudged forward. Tara was enjoying the view of the town, however, and she couldn't understand why Fiona seemed so hesitant to look around her.

"Man, this place is beautiful," Tara said, trying to press Fiona into looking up.

"I hate this place," Fiona muttered under her breath. It was a simple side comment regarding her own thoughts, something meant to be unheard by anyone else. Unfortunately for her, Tara's sharp ears managed to pick up the comment, and the girl seemed quite surprised by what she heard.

"You hate this place?" Tara questioned. Fiona's eyes went wide, as she realized her thoughts had been made public. "What's wrong about it?"

Fiona tried not to answer the question, as she turned away from Tara's questioning gaze.

"Nothing," Fiona said, trying to pass off the question. "Just forget it."

"You said you hated this place," Tara pressed on. "Why?" Fiona sighed, and gave a half-answer in response.

"Look," Fiona said shyly. "I didn't have the best time growing up here. I had some really good times here, but most of the time, it wasn't happy. I have some bad memories of this place. Let's leave it at that."

"But if you talk about it…" Tara started to argue. Fiona suddenly turned to face her, and spoke with a sense of anger that Tara had never heard before.

"Can we not talk about this now?" Fiona insisted. "Let's just find the murderer so we can le-" Fiona was cut off as she walked directly into someone. Her anger turned to guilt, and her depression turned to embarrassment, as the person turned around to face her. He was a boy roughly her age, with a dark sweater on and jet black hair that was protruding from his head at an odd angle. He looked angry that he was knocked into, as it made him spill some of his coffee, which was just freshly made. Fiona immediately began apologizing for her actions, as the boy reprimanded her.

"Hey, watch your going, you almost-" he started to yell, but then paused. He looked at Fiona for a long moment, studying her. Then, as if a buzzer went off in his head, a small smile broke out on his face, as he recognized hers. "…Fiona? Is that you?" Fiona was confused.

"Um…" Fiona started to say, but that was all the confirmation the boy needed, before he broke out into a huge grin and trapped Fiona in a crushing hug. Fiona blushed profusely at the sign of physical affection, as Tara started to giggle at the stunned look on her friend's face. Meanwhile, the boy was incredibly happy, and it showed in his hug.

"Fiona! Oh shit, I haven't seen you in years!" He released her from the hug, and held her shoulders. "It's me, Jacob Tarvis!" A cord of familiarity struck through Fiona. She examined his face, and found the similarities in it with someone she used to know long ago. And once her brain made such a connection, Fiona finally realized who she was talking to.

"Oh! Jacob!" she said with stark realization, and a nervous smile crept on her face. "It's good to see you again." He finally released his grip on her, allowing her to shake off the shock from physical contact.

"No shit!" he said happily. "Man, I haven't seen you since, like, the 7th Grade. How ya been?"

"Oh…fine, I guess," she replied nervously. It felt strange talking to Jacob again, especially after all of these years. It brought her a strange sense of nostalgia.

"Man, we've got to, like, catch up or something," he said happily. "Do you have a phone or something? I could give you my number, and maybe we could, like, set something up." Tara briefly interrupted, knowing that she could be of assistance.

"Just tell it to me," Tara said confidently to Jacob. "I'll remember it."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, you say so," Jacob said as he shrugged. "Its 555-0278. Remember, 555-0278. Man, I gotta go, but's been great seeing you Fiona." He started to run away from the girls, but turned and called back. "Hope to see you again, girl!"

"Same here," Fiona said softly. She knew that he hadn't heard her, but she didn't mind. In truth, it was actually somewhat pleasant to see Jacob again, even if it did bring up a rather unpleasant memory.

"Who was that?" asked Tara happily, glad to see Fiona become a little more comfortable. Fiona wasn't quite sure how to respond, as she had many thoughts and opinions of Jacob, and she had to think of how best to describe him.

"You know how I said I had some 'good times' in this town?" Fiona said nervously. Tara nodded. "Well, I guess you say that he was one of them." A sly smile grew on Tara's face.

"So, were you two ever… you know…" Tara started to suggest. Fiona realized what Tara was trying to insinuate, and quickly waved away the thought.

"Oh no, nothing like that," Fiona said, quickly. Tara's smile didn't waver, though, and Fiona felt the need to elaborate. "It was just…well… he was one of the only real friends I've ever had. He was always there to help me out when I needed it. He was just a really good kid. That's all."

Fiona smiled at the memories from her childhood, and readjusted her hood to hide her face from Tara's smug grin. And yet, despite Fiona's hood and long pink hair blocking her view, Tara was almost positive that she saw Fiona blush.

__________

"And so I said, 'I'm used to lying down on hard things.' That's funny, right?" Dash attempted to explain her problem to AJ. AJ snickered, not so much at Dash's horrible sexual innuendo, but rather at her reaction to it. To see Dash, someone who took great pride in her clever jokes, being shut down by someone who didn't even understand what it meant to be an adult, was rather funny. It served Dash well to get some humility, in any way which it was delivered. AJ shrugged in response to Dash, causing the rainbow-haired girl to sigh.

"What do you know, anyway?" Dash said.

"Let's just focus on the mission," AJ stated. "I'll teach you something about humor later." Dash groaned, and then looked around. They were passing by a junior high school, which was blocked off by a large field and a chain-link fence. Next to the school was an old library, which seemed to be slowly cracking apart, and then the senior high school. AJ took notice off several of the kids running around the field, part of a physical education exercise. Dash laughed at the sight.

"Man, I remember doing that shit," Dash said, thinking of her times in high school; all of the times she dominated the competition in her athletics. She was the queen bee of her school in the sports department, and it wasn't really a bad time. But compared to what she was doing now, stopping terrorists, while being able to perform extreme acts of violence with the government's consent, school seemed like a prison. Suddenly, AJ interrupted Dash's idea with a thought of her own.

"Sometimes I wish I could know what it's like," AJ said sorrowfully. "Ya know, to be one of those kids." Dash laughed at this, finding it extremely funny.

"Trust me, you're not missing much," Dash said truthfully. As they walked by the church, they passed a local priest standing outside, talking to a group of concerned people.

"I have spoken to our Lord, God," he spoke calmly. "He says the demons that haunt us now will soon pass over us. There is nothing to fear."

"How can you say that, Father?" spoke one man of the group. "The Witcherson's are dead! And they were good Christian people! What kind of cruel punishment is this?" Other members of the crowd began to speak as well, fear ever growing amongst the group.

"What if he comes for my little Billy?"

"How can God let something like this happen?"

"I fear the Devil's work, here! This killer's from Hell, I tell you!"

"What should we do, Father?"

"Yeah, what do we do?!"

"Please help us, Father!"

"Calm down, everyone. Calm down!" he said, trying to get control of the group. "Now, I know there is a lot of fear amongst us. I know it might seem frightening. But I do truly believe that if you fully accept Jesus in your heart, and pray strongly to God, then we will get through this. Haddonfield has survived many tragedies. When this town was covered with eight feet of snow in the blizzards of '96, we survived. When the town was faced with a great drought, we survived. And we will survive this. We have to." And with that, the crowd dissipated. As they left, many whispers were still flying around, and fear was still evident.

"I think someone's been doing some devil worship. That's the only explanation."

"I heard the killer has horns, and drinks the blood from his foes."

"What if he's right here, listening to all of this? Is he gonna come for us?"

The people passed by AJ, who had been listening to the entire session from afar, and she turned to Dash.

"What do ya think about that," AJ asked, thinking about the meeting. "Do ya really think there's some sorta ancient evil at work here."

"Nah," Dash said, nonchalantly. "These guys are just a bunch of religious freaks trying to find answers in a shitty book."

"Yeah," confirmed AJ, albeit quite quietly. "But then, what in Hell's name could it be?"

__________

"What do you know about the murders?!"

Pinky was bouncing around the busy street, asking people the exact same question over and over again. Rachel was watching, in astonishment, the speed at which Pinky moved, taking mere seconds to ask her question, and then move on to the next person. And since they were standing in front of the movie theater, there were plenty of subjects for Pinky's words.

"Tell me everything you know! What were you doing at 11:35 last night?! I need your name, phone number, and bank account now! Don't look at me like that! I've got eyes everywhere!"

As Pinky quickly moved from person to person, people started to avoid her. When she asked a question, they were usually so startled, that they didn't have time to answer before Pinky moved on to someone else. And when they did answer, the information was completely useless. Pinky's questioning became more aggressive, and soon, the entire crowd had left, leaving Pinky and Rachel standing by themselves in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Man, that was pointless," Pinky said, disappointed. "How are we going to find out anything about the murders?"

"You guys want to know something about the murders?" came a voice from behind. They turned around and saw a young girl, slightly younger than them, holding a cup of coffee. She just happened to be walking by when she heard them talking of the recent events, and decided to help.

"You know something about the homicides?" asked Rachel with enthusiasm.

"Well, I don't," the girl said. Rachel's mood sank a little, before the girl added, "But Mr. Ruiz knows a lot. He even saw one of the killings take place." Rachel's mood immediately chirped up with this knowledge, and she began to think that she might actually get something done.

"Great! Where is he?" Rachel asked happily. The girl pointed across the street to the opposite sidewalk.

"He's right over there," the girl stated. Pinky and Rachel turned around, and saw that a Brazilian man was sitting down on the sidewalk, enjoying a nice cup of coffee as he watched the occasional car drive by.

"That's fantastic," Rachel declared. "Let's go speak to him."

"But he doesn't speak English," the girl admitted. Rachel paused for a moment, and then her smile slowly disappeared. She turned to Pinky.

"Well, that was a waste," she said somberly. "Now what are w-… Pinky? Pinky, where are you?" Rachel looked around for her hyper friend, but found her nowhere. At last, she saw her friend, halfway across the street with Mr. Ruiz.

"…e ele tinha esses olhos horríveis. Os olhos do diabo," Mr. Ruiz said fearfully, as he explained his story.

"Os olhos do diabo?" Pinky replied to him.

"Sim, era muito horrível. Eu estava com tanto medo na minha vida," he continued.

"O que aconteceu depois?"

"Mais duas pessoas tentaram assassiná-lo, mas ele matou-os também. Eu estava com muito medo de se mover. Ele me olhou bem nos olhos, mas ele sorriu, e depois à esquerda na fumaça mais preta."

"Ele acabou de sair no meio da fumaça?"

"Sim. Sim. Ele só me deixou sozinho." Pinky thought deeply about the story, before thanking the man, and walking back over to Rachel. Rachel was quite shocked at Pinky's performance, and was wondering a great many things. But the only thing she could ask was:

"When did you learn to speak Portuguese?"

Pinky smiled at her, as if it were the most basic knowledge in the world. "Duh," Pinky said. "I'm like, one-sixteenth Portuguese. Anyway, I think I know what we are dealing with."

"Well, what is it?" asked Rachel, desperately wanting to know.

"Well, if I heard correctly," Pinky said, making sure she understood what Mr. Ruiz was saying. "Then I think we're fighting a magician."

__________

"He teleported?" said Tara, in great confusion. It was two o'clock, and the gang had regrouped in Rachel and AJ's motel room, as they discussed what information they had learned. For the most part, no one had gathered any real information, except for Pinky's eye witness testimony from Mr. Ruiz. But even then, Tara had a great deal of trouble accepting the information that Pinky was handing out. Pinky ferociously nodded her head again.

"That's what Mr. Ruiz said," Pinky said as she tried to prove her point once again.

"Maybe you just mistranslated him, darling," Rachel said with support.

"No way. I know what he said," Pinky reaffirmed. "This guy was standing there for one second, then there was a puff of smoke, and then POOF! He was gone."

"Pinky, let's be realistic here," stated Tara. "You're saying that a mass murderer has the ability to teleport around in a puff of smoke, and he just let one of his victims live for no reason, when he's been known to kill anything that gets in his way. And apparently, he's also Satan. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." Pinky felt almost angry that they weren't listening, but she wasn't very used to feeling angry. Instead, she hung her head, disappointed that the others refused to believe her.

"But… I know that's what he said," Pinky said, softly.

"Pinky, what's more likely?" asked Dash. "The Devil is running around, teleporting and killing everything in his sight, but apparently refuses to kill foreigners? Or, that the white stuff is getting to your head, and you're not as good as speaking fucking Portuguese as you remember?" Pinky lied back on the bed, covering her face with her hands, as she stared at the ceiling.

"I…I don't know," Pinky admitted. Tara stood up, and started to walk towards the door, disappointed in the information that they found today. Normally, she was very good at learning things in a short amount of time, but this case eluded her. She had only learned three things today: Pinky could speak another language, the town thinks that Lucifer is destroying the populace, and Fiona has an old friend named Jacob, that she was fairly certain meant a lot more to Fiona than she was letting on. Other than that, the day had been a complete waste.

"Well, I guess we should go back and start searching again," Tara said, as she opened up the door. She was almost instantly greeted with a flash of lightning, followed swiftly by the booming sound of thunder. Rain was pouring down upon the streets, and Tara realized that the girls would be going nowhere for the rest of the day. She sighed, as she closed the door. "…or not."

Dash let out a moan, before pulling up a search engine on her phone, and typed in their current address.

"So… anyone want Chinese for dinner?"

__________

It was now six-thirty, and the storm clouds were finally starting to clear. As the grey skies slowly started to turn black, Tara considered her next course of action. She and Fiona had returned to their room, after a lengthy meal of mediocre Moo Shu Pork. Tara had many things to consider, and for that she requested time alone. In compliance, (since there was really no place else to go) Fiona was lying on the bed, staring at no particular spot on the ceiling. Tara had several options that she could take, although none of them sounded promising.

Her first option was to call the investigation off for the evening. It did serve its benefits. For starters, it allowed them to start a fresh search in the morning, once they were well rested. Finding information about the cases would be much easier if there were actual people they could talk to, instead of wondering around the streets. Plus, there was the moral of the team that she had to consider. From what she could gather at the meeting, no one seemed particularly interested in continuing the case for the night. It was still stormy out, and it presented the idea that Tara would have to wait until the weather fully cleared before searching again. Plus, staying in would allow Tara to talk to Fiona some more. There were many things that Tara wished to ask her about, including her hatred of Haddonfield and her probable romantic relationship with Jacob. And, if Tara proved to be correct with her belief, it would add a small boost of self-confidence, knowing she was able to read people easily. However, she also knew that Fiona was desperately trying to get back home as soon as possible, and would not appreciate a delay in the search. And the most notable problem with this plan of action would be that for every day they waited, more people could die. And although Tara did not want to upset her team, the innocent lives meant so much more to her than petty morality.

The second option was to leave immediately in search for the murderer. It wasted the least amount of time, and they could continue the search instantly, without the possibility of costing more lives. But, the weather did not seem to fully permit this course of action, as storm clouds still loomed over the horizon, threatening to strike down with rain and thunder, crippling the investigation. There was also the somewhat terrifying notion that all of the killings had occurred at night. If the team were to leave the relative safety of the motel, they could become the targets of the next homicides. Of course, they still did not know why each victim was targeted in the first place, or how the killer had managed to execute his enemies with such skill and precision. Perhaps, it was this stark lack of knowledge that made this option so terrifying. They had no idea what this man could do and perhaps, it was best to wait before attempting to bring the criminal down.

The third option was more or less a combination of the former two choices. She could send a small team to continue investigating while the others monitored their progress. It would limit the amount of people put in harm's way, while allowing for strategic thinking to be made from a safe location. They could continue to learn more about the murders throughout the night, and in the morning, a second team could research among the town's people. It was the best way to manage their resources, and they could prevent any crime in progress they came across. But unfortunately, she came across similar problems. Without full knowledge of what the assailant could do, she could be sending her own friends into a death trap. And if they did get into trouble, it would take far too long for Tara to send backup.

Tara paced around the room, all three plans of action buzzing around her head. She was having a great deal of trouble thinking of anything, and this greatly bothered her. Normally, she was very good at making decisions. She had come up with the plan to attack Discord's base in thirteen minutes, but she had been deep in thought for the past two hours, and she was unable to come up with a solution. It seemed like no matter what choice she made, people were going to die as consequence, and this burden fell on her heavily. She groaned.

"Man, I just don't know what to do," Tara spoke to Fiona. "I really don't know. It's like, no matter what I do, someone is going to have the pay the price for it. All I'm trying to do is stop a murderer, nut for whatever reason, I feel like I'm going end up hurting people."

"Don't worry, Tara," said Fiona softly, still looking up at the ceiling. She smiled. "You'll think of the right thing. You always do." Tara smiled at the words of encouragement.

"Thanks, Fiona," Tara said in response. It was then that Tara realized Fiona seemed to be rather upset about something. Her normally bright, angelic face was somber, and her body language showed that she was deep in thought about something. "Are you alright, Fiona?"

Fiona realized that Tara had noticed her rather dark mood, and she felt a little embarrassed by it.

"Uh, no," Fiona lied. "Everything's alright." Tara rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Fiona. I know something's troubling you," said Tara. Fiona took a deep sigh, got up, and sat at the edge of the bed. Tara took a seat next to her, and put her hands on her lap, listening closely.

"Well," started Fiona. "It's just that, ever since I came back here, I've been thinking about a lot of things. Things I have now and… things that I left behind." Tara nodded, as Fiona took another deep breath before continuing.

"The thing is…" Fiona paused, unsure of what to say. It felt very bizarre saying this directly to Tara, but it was something that she felt she had to get off of her chest. And in her opinion, there was no better set of ears to tell this to. "Have you ever liked someone, but you were unsure if they liked you back?"

Oh, thought Tara. So that's what this is about.

Tara knew exactly what Fiona was thinking, but she didn't wish to undermine her friend's confession. So, she simply put on her best confused look, and shook her head. Fiona took another breath.

"Well…" Fiona started to say. "Let's say, hypothetically, that I liked this… person." Fiona spoke nervously, while Tara faked a shocked expression.

"Yes…" Tara said, pretending that she didn't understand what Fiona meant.

"And, well," Fiona started to stumble over her own words, as she grew more embarrassed with each passing moment. She hid her face underneath the hood of her jacket. "I wanted to know if this…person...liked me back. Would you, by any chance, not that you would of course, um… know how to see if they felt the same way?" Tara couldn't help but smile at Fiona's attempt at a love confession. Of course, Tara knew exactly who the "person" was, and she was already pretty confident that Fiona's romantic interest returned similar feelings. She had seen it from the moment they met. But still, Fiona wanted advice, and being the very helpful best friend that she was, Tara would tell Fiona everything she needed to know.

"Well, lucky for you, Fiona, I have read my fair share of romantic tales in my lifetime, and I would be happy to help you," spoke Tara gladly. Fiona perked up a bit at the news, but was still rather embarrassed to say much.

"So, uh," Fiona managed to get out. "What would you say to d-do? Hypothetically, o-of course."

"Well," Tara considered, thinking over the various romantic tales that she had read through. Although she always considered it light reading, she made a mental note of many of the techniques used by the heroines to seduce the men. "You could get to know the person over a long period of time, get to know a lot about them before trying anything, you know, different."

"Okay," Fiona responded to the not-so-helpful advice. "Anything else?"

"You could try to invite the person to a semi-romantic date, see how they feel about you," Tara suggested. Fiona nodded. "You could try to sexually seduce them, although something tells me you're not the kind of person for that. You could learn about that person through their friends, discover things about them. Wear different things, try new makeup…" Tara continued to rattle off different tips, which Fiona gradually took in. But yet, nothing truly seemed to be able to help her.

"Anything else you know of?" asked Fiona hopefully. Tara thought hard about anything else that could help Fiona. There was one other thing that she thought of. A particularly off-the-wall method she had not seen being used often in literature. But she recalled it being rather successful in the novel, which she had borrowed from one of her acquaintances in her freshman year of high school. It wasn't the most widely spread solution, but perhaps Fiona needed something a little different to help her with Jacob.

"Well, you could try to be spontaneous," Tara suggested. Fiona stopped and took a glance at her friend.

"Spontaneous?" Fiona asked, making sure she heard Tara's suggestion correctly. Tara nodded.

"Yeah. It worked in The Memories of Velma Verano, so I suppose it's as good of an idea as any," Tara said. Fiona seemed to perk up, as she thought about the idea, cycling through her head.

"What do you mean?" Fiona asked. Tara looked up at the ceiling, as she tried to think of more details.

"Like, do something out of the blue," Tara thought out loud. "Like, invite the person on a date from out of nowhere, or just buy them presents because you care. People tend to think most clearly in the heat of the moment. Or maybe, you could-"

But Tara never got to finish her words, as Fiona quickly grabbed on to her, and pressed their lips together.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 3: Inner Demons (The Angel Who Sought Love)

Chapter 3: Inner Demons

Part 2 of 2: The Angel Who Sought Love

Haddonfield Senior High rested atop a large, green hill, which had become the town's only true notable geographical feature. From the grassy field, the entire town became visible, and one could easily see the passing of many people as they continued on with their busy lives. When the sun was out, the town glimmered in the light, casting a pleasing image those atop the hill, which many, in their spare time, came to see. But now, with the dark grey skies and sounds of distant thunder, as the sun began to set behind the clouds, the hill was practically abandoned. When the day was still young, animals roamed about the fields, and birds flew to and from their nests, looking for food. But now, with the storm, most animals had abandoned the open fields in search for cover from the rain. No one would dare come up to the hill during a dark time of the day like this.

And that was why it was perfect for him.

The man, who had been called a monster so many times in his life that he believed nothing else, was sitting on the hill, peacefully watching the dark clouds float over the city, as the sky continued to fade to black. He occupied his time by picking blades of grass off of the ground, and letting them be picked up by the wind and carried off. Sometimes, he would pick up his sword and sheath, which rested besides him on the grass, and he rubbed the blade between his fingers. It was times like these that he truly enjoyed, when he didn't have any worries, when he could just forget about his fate and live life how he truly wanted. But he knew that these times wouldn't last, and soon, nightfall would come, and the hunt would start again. He heard a bird caw over his head, and looked up to the sky to find a raven circling him. The raven, without any hesitation, swooped down and landed next to the man. He smiled at the bird.

"Well, hello there, my friend," he spoke to the bird. "How are you this fine evening?" The bird responded by twisting its head back and forth, looking at the man from different angles. The man nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see. You're lost. Looking for something that you just can't seem to find."

He reached out and stroked the raven's feathers, and the raven happily moved around in his hands.

"That's alright. I'm looking for something too. We all are, I suppose," he continued to talk to the raven as if it were his lifelong friend, and the bird continued to stand next to him, listening to the words as if he could understand them. "Isn't it beautiful?" said the man, looking out upon Haddonfield. "It's such a beautiful place. Filled with completely innocent people, who have done no wrong in their lives. It's a shame that I have to come here to a place like this, and bring upon it such misery."

He sighed heavily.

"But despite all of the innocent souls, he could be out there. Right here, in this very town. And so, I can't leave, not yet. For ten years, I have suffered through this madness. For ten years, I have endlessly searched for him. But he might be here. And so I have to continue on, and take everyone down who will get in my way."

He smiled, and looked back at the raven, which was still listening intently.

"But something tells me that soon, I will find what I am looking for. And so will you, my little friend. And then, all will be right with the world once again."

The bird cawed at him, and then took off towards the town. He smiled as he watched it fade away into the storm clouds, before disappearing completely. He sighed and stood up, slinging his sword and sheath over his shoulder. His rest was over for the night, and there was much work to be done. In a puff of black smoke, he was gone, as he once again continued his hunt.

__________

Tara could honestly say that she had not seen this coming.

In fact, it quite dumbfounded her how she could be so wrong about everything that she had thought before. She was so certain, so confident in her abilities, that she could bet her life on how simplistic it was to figure everything out. She didn't know what had happened, where she had gone wrong. It was a simple process, but she thought she was very intuitive, figuring out Fiona's life problems with a simple glance. In fact, she was not only certain of her problems, but she had even believed to have solved a great trouble of Fiona's conscience, not to mention discover the identity of someone close to the girl's heart. But as the facts before her showed, she was quite wrong about her theory, as she now found herself lip locked with one of her best friends.

Who was a girl.

She was kissing another girl.

As this reality set in with her, a wave of emotions crashed through her. She realized a great many things wrong with this, and her range of emotions changed rapidly in the next few moments.

First of all, she realized with great despair, was that this was her first kiss. Of course, in junior high, she had always dreamed of a romantic first kiss with a true gentleman, which may have seemed silly to the others, but it was perfect for her content, little fantasy. Given her peers at high school, however, she realized in her freshman year that her dreams would never come true, and she would have to hold out to wait for her true prince. But now, her fantasy was permanently shattered in a horrible motel in the middle of West Virginia. And this realization brought to Tara sorrow and emptiness, as she would now forever remember this dignifying moment for as long as she lived.

Disgust was another prominent feeling that was flowing through her. Never had she once found girls sexually attractive, and now, from a more personal point of view, she fully understood why. While at first she felt numb, everything was coming back to her. As her sense kicked back into function, she felt everything. She felt Fiona's soft lips pressing against hers, she felt Fiona's light breathing against her skin, and she felt Fiona's hands press into her soldiers, as they held the two bodies together. And Tara was repulsed by every aspect of it. She could not give a specific reason why, but she absolutely hated the current sensation. Her friend's hands made her skin crawl, and her breath stung harshly against her skin, every breath feeling like the life was being sucked out of her. In fact, Tara felt as if she were going to throw up. Every small thing screamed out to her brain in the worst possible ways, sending horrible sensations running through her body. Fiona's taste seemed to remind her of methane, despite it obviously being more that of strawberry, and the texture felt like someone was rubbing her face with spoiled food, despite the innate softness. And while a more rational part of her brain suggested that she was overreacting, the rest of her mind and body silenced that part of her thought rather quickly.

And yet, despite these overwhelming feelings of disgust and sorrow, something rose above it all, pushing it all aside in room for something else. And while Tara strongly agreed with the two emotions, every part of her natural instinct pointed at something much more acceptable.

Hate. Anger. Rage. All feelings of dread and discontent coursing through her veins, faster than her blood could carry it. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, and above all else, she felt like she wanted to hit something. Hard. Very hard. In fact, she even felt like she wanted to kill something. The rage taking slowly taking control of her system, sending very harsh thoughts chaotically running through her skull, as the adrenaline started to pump through her. She thought of violent deaths and horrible beatings, something she didn't even know she was capable of thinking of. But the rational part of her brain was still fighting, still trying to reason with her system to calm down. But she couldn't focus on that part of her brain right now, because the thought of punching Fiona in the face seemed so appealing.

Fiona.

It was all her fault. She had lied to Tara, betrayed her trust and had gotten close to her, with sick, perverted thoughts running through her psychologically messed up brain. Of course, her brain was damaged. That's the only reason why Fiona would do something so dirty, so messed up as kissing one of her only friends, one of her other female friends. And for whatever reason, Tara hated the idea of having Fiona as a friend. She couldn't stand the thought of someone who did something so unnatural ever being around her.

And suddenly, she found herself presented with two new options, those of which were on quite the different subject than her thoughts mere minutes ago.

The first option was to continue to kiss her once-closest friend, and possibly video tape the entire aftermath, before posting it on the internet, successfully fulfilling the dreams of many hormonally challenged teenage boys around the globe. And while she was at it, she might as well join a secret samurai order, get a tattoo of a butterfly on her buttocks, and travel the entire globe with an albino elephant and a magical unicorn.

Or she could pick option two, which entailed getting Fiona to stop sucking her face, and then getting the psychotic girl away from her and never speaking to her again, but not after some form of physical or verbal punishment. And in her raged, uncontrollable state, the physical punishment seemed more and more like a very good idea.

And so, after what seemed like hours of kissing the pink-haired girl (which in reality lasted a total of two and one-half of a second), Tara made her easiest decision of the entire week. She grabbed on to Fiona's shoulders roughly, and forcefully shoved the girl as far away from her as possible. Fiona flew back onto the bed in a daze, as Tara backed away from the mattress and let her thoughts flow freely from her now-stained lips.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Tara shouted in disbelief. Although she would never try to use harsh language, especially with someone as sensitive as Fiona, the hateful emotions coursing through her made it impossible to think clearly. As soon as Fiona realized what Tara had said, she instantly recognized what a massive mistake she had made.

"Oh my God, Tara, I…I'm so sorry," Fiona tried to apologize, but Tara wasn't listening. She was too busy listening to the blood rushing to her ears to care about Fiona's apology.

"How the fuck could you do that?!" Tara continued to shout.

"Tara, I…I…" Fiona struggled to come up with an explanation for her actions. She certainly had not wanted this to happen, and now, she was stuck in the chaos of Tara's fury that, the day prior, neither girl knew existed.

"How? How could you not tell me about this?!" Tara said, harshly. Fiona was feeling her heart slowly break apart after each syllable; its pieces crashing through her body as she witnessed Tara lose self-control.

"I…" Fiona said, as she started to feel her eyes water. It didn't help that she nearly burst into tears at the sight of a wounded animal, but now her best friend, one of the only people she could trust, was cursing her out. "…I'm so sorry. I… didn't know, I just-"

"JUST WHAT?!" Tara spat back at her. "Just clung on to me like a leach, sucking whatever you could off of me to satisfy whatever fucked-up urges you got over the years. Tell me, how much of our friendship was a lie? Did you really even like me, or were you just using me…" Tara shuddered hard. "…for my body? For my looks and my innocence." Tara didn't want to think about it. She couldn't bear the thought of Fiona's crazed sexual fantasies of her, all of the dirty thoughts that Fiona must have thought about over the course of their friendship. It just made Tara sick. Fiona shook her head furiously.

"No, Tara, it was never like that…" Fiona desperately tried to explain through the lump in her throat, as she realized that her friendship was crumbling right before her eyes with the only person that she could really trust. She struggled to take a deep breath through her tears.

"I mean, yes, I…I'm gay, alright?" Fiona said slowly, trying not to let herself completely crumble down. "And you were one of the most beautiful people I ever met. But, I didn't like you because of that. You were one of the only people who was ever really nice to me. You tried to help me out when no one else did. I…I don't know… I just assumed…"

"Assumed what?!" Tara said with venom in her voice. She didn't believe in Fiona's words for one second. And even if she did, it wouldn't matter to her anyway. The damage was already done, and Fiona couldn't change anything about it. "That I was a fag like you?! That I would suddenly fall into your arms and fucking accept everything?! That I would sin away into some twisted, goddamn fantasy of yours? You're fucking delusional, Fiona, and I hope that when you get sent to Hell, you get what you fucking deserve."

Fiona was sobbing hard now, unable to handle all of the terrible words being thrown at her. Everything around her was falling apart, and each word stung her deeply, as she felt like once again, she was unable to escape the nightmare that was her pitiful existence.

"You (sob)… you don't really mean that," Fiona managed to say through her tears. Tara couldn't even stand to look at her former friend.

"No, I do," Tara said sternly, with no hint of forgiveness in voice. "Now, get out."

"Please Tara, let's (sob) talk about this," Fiona sorrowfully said. She tried to approach the angered girl, but Tara shoved her away, towards the door. If it weren't for the fact that Tara felt so disgusted by the physical contact, she would have punched Fiona in the face. But she didn't, instead finishing her off with more hate-filled words.

"I said, GET OUT! It's already too late. The damage is done," Tara spoke with such punctuality, that Fiona felt the words were designed to be as hurtful as possible. For all she knew, they were. Slowly, with her pride hurt and her life in shambles, Fiona placed her hand on the door knob. But before she left, she sighed heavily, not even bothering to face Tara, as she knew she would receive no kindness from her vengeful girl.

"I didn't ask to be like this, you know?"

With that, Fiona exited the motel room, and made her way to the empty street outside. Once Fiona left, Tara lied down on the bed, and took a deep breath, as she stared hard at the ceiling. She thought over everything she had spoken to Fiona, and of course, she found some regret in her choice of words. As she calmed down, her rational side started to take over again, and she knew that she easily could have handled the situation better. It helped her realize not to let her emotions take control of her again, and never to ignore her rational thought again. It also showed her how mean she was able to be, but she did not see this as a necessary negative thing. In fact, she knew that it helped to have a darker side to herself, to help with what challenges the team might face. After all, she said what she needed to say to Fiona. She showed no rules, no restrictions, and no remorse. And most importantly, everything she said was honest and straight from the heart. Or at least, some of it was, but it didn't matter now. She could not change what had been said, and now, she would have to consider the consequences for her actions, and what this would do to the operation, as well as her team.

Meanwhile, Fiona was currently sitting on the sidewalk, wrapped tightly in a ball as she cried into her knees. She felt horrible, like every one of her worst fears had crawled inside her and taken a permanent residence. She couldn't think clearly about her friends, and she couldn't think clearly about what this would do to her future. She didn't want to know all of the misery her life would continue to be from that point onwards, and she didn't know how she could possibly recover from the pain as she had done before. The only thing that she knew was that for the second time in her life, Fiona Samswell wanted to die.

__________

It was two hours later when Dash heard a knock on her door. She was very glad for it, as it interrupted one of Pinky's incredibly inaccurate stories, this one including the time she befriended a large cougar named "Willis". Dash happily rushed to the door, and opened it to see Tara standing before her, her sword slung over her shoulder in its sheath, and having the biggest look of determination on her face that Dash had ever seen from the girl.

"Come on," Tara said. "We're going to look for the killer."

"Why?" Dash questioned. "It's fucking late out. We can wait until morning."

"The longer we wait, the more people die," Tara said sternly. Pinky happily chimed in.

"Yeah, but Dash and I were having the greatest conversation. See, this one time-" Pinky started to say, but Dash had already thrown on her jacket, and ran to AJ's room to alert the other girls. Now, she thought, it might actually do her some good to investigate the killings late at night.

However, Dash was starting to regret her decision by this point. It had been one hour since the girls had left for the night, and nothing had been found. Dash was left to wander aimlessly around the streets, looking for any signs of suspicious activity, (which she had no idea what suspicious activity would even look like, which in itself was a massive problem). She should have known something was wrong with this idea from the moment Tara suggested it. Of course, at the time, Dash had known quite well that something was wrong, but she would never have the indecency to admit to herself that she had made a bad decision and went along with a horrible plan. But now thinking about it, she should have protested more.

First of all, there was the small issue that Fiona wasn't joining them. When AJ inquired about this, Tara simply responded with a groan and said that Fiona had "something she had to be dealing with". Obviously, Dash didn't know what could be more important than a homicidal maniac roaming the streets. In fact, Dash was sure Tara seemed very upset and angry with Fiona when AJ brought the topic up. But she had simply put it off as Tara being on her period, or having some sort of issue with someone going against the great plan that Tara had surely thought of, as Dash was quite sure that Tara immediately despised all who opposed her "brilliance". But, another problem was simply the method they were handling their search. Tara had told the girls to split up individually, and search around town by themselves, walking alone through the streets of Haddonfield, which none of them really knew how to navigate. Dash could not fathom why Tara would think of a suicidal plan like this. Perhaps there was something that Dash didn't understand, some master stoke that would solve all of their problems. Of course, the true purpose behind this course of action (which Tara would guarantee that none of the girls would ever learn about) was that Tara felt like she needed to take a long walk to sort out the thoughts in her head. It wasn't by any means a safe plan, but Tara was still in such a state of shock from the evening's events that she didn't really care. However, Tara at least attempted to make sure the girls didn't feel entirely alone. They all had their cell phones locked in a conference call, so they could easily communicate with each other. And each of the girls had been given a gun for protection, which Dash snugly kept in her back pocket.

But all in all, walking around the streets at night with a murderer on the loose didn't justify the ridiculous course of action. No one had seen anything, though, which gave an uneasy stillness to the air. So Dash just quietly walked around the streets of Haddonfield, secretly hoping that she was at talented as she thought she was, and she wouldn't become the next victim of a homicidal rampage.

"Nothing by me…again," Dash reported back to her friends. She heard sighing from one of the other callers.

"Man, I thought at we'd certainly find something by now," groaned Pinky.

"I guess finding nothing is better than getting our heads chopped off," said AJ, trying somewhat to lighten up the mood.

"True, I'd much rather not die tonight," said Rachel snidely.

"Yeah, you got to be extra careful," joked Dash. "After all, we don't have free health care in this country."

"Ha ha, very funny," Rachel replied sarcastically. "You should really get that fixed, by the way."

"Yeah, whatever," Dash responded. She was walking by the high school, noticing the lack of people walking around the street. It appeared that the fear had spread around the town, and people were deathly afraid. But just when she thought that the entirety of the town was deserted, as luck would have it, she spotted a man walking towards her, looking around for people just as she was. She walked pass him, and he nodded to her.

"Evening, ma'am," he said politely to her. She simply scoffed, and continued to walk. It was quite strange to see anyone walking at this hour, given the circumstances. In fact, the man was dressed rather odd. His dark clothing gave the impression that he didn't want to be seen. And was she mistaken, or did that man have a sword strapped to his back? She took a look behind her, and saw that she was not mistaken at all. The man was in fact carrying a weapon, and Dash slowly realized who had passed her.

"Um, guys?" she quietly said to her phone. "You might want to get over here. Fast."

"Why?" responded Rachel from over the phone.

"Just get over by the high school," Dash said quickly. Unfortunately, her response was louder than she anticipated, and her conversation was overheard. The man stopped in his tracks, and listened closely. He thought something odd of Dash's behavior, and an idea crossed his mind that he might be being followed. So, he redirected his course, now starting to walk towards the Senior High entrance. Dash took notice of this, and started to trail the man towards the building. "And hurry the fuck up. I think I'm hunting down the most dangerous man in the fucking town."

It took around twenty minutes for the rest of the team to show up at the Senior High. By this time, the man had promptly entered the building, (which puzzled Dash, because she assumed that the school would be locked at this time.) Dash was met with some relief that the other girls had showed up, and now, they had the opportunity to take down the criminal who had been haunting the town of Haddonfield.

"Alright, we need to take this with caution," Tara said. Dash rolled her eyes.

"If you were careful, you wouldn't have let us walk around the town all by our-fucking-selves,' Dash said.

"Dash, now is not the time," Tara said sternly. "I wasn't thinking perfectly clear then, but it turned out fine. So, let's not focus on that right now."

"Fine, Spark," Dash moaned. "Not my fault if you can't take the fucking criticism. What's the plan?"

"Simple," Tara said. "We break into the school, find this guy and kill him. We stick together; we are much less of a target that way." The girls were a little surprised by the strict maner of Tara's orders, and it became quite clear that something was troubling the girl. Tara ignored the stares she was receiving, and started to get moving towards the school. But she was stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and AJ walked up to her, concerned.

"Tara, ya feelin' alright?" AJ asked her friend. "Ya don't seem to be acting like yourself." Tara shrugged AJ's hand away, and AJ was slightly hurt by the act. Tara knew she shouldn't have done it, but she still felt bitter about another female touching her.

"I'm fine, AJ," Tara said. "Let's just get this over with." She continued to march up the hill, and soon reached a door to the building. She grabbed onto the handle cautiously, and attempted to tug it open. But much to her surprise, the door would not budge. She tried pulling on the large set of doors harder, but still, they refused to move. They would not push inwards, either, and Tara soon found herself unable to enter the building. She turned to Dash, concerned.

"Are you sure this was where the guy went?" Tara asked.

"Pretty fucking sure," said Dash.

"Hold on, I got this," AJ said, taking out her gun. She took aim towards the handle, and ordered the girls to back away from the door.

BANG

The bullet broke through the door, breaking the lock mechanism, allowing the girls to enter the building. The inside of the school was very dark, and Tara had to let her eyes adjust to the light. As the room slowly grew brighter, the girls took out their weapons, understanding that they were in a severe tactical disadvantage.

"Okay, stick together. We move as a unit," Tara said, slowly advancing deeper into the building. They passed by a receptionist desk, and took a turn down one of the many hallways. They passed by several classrooms, each of them decorated with multiple posters. Happy animals and drawings smiled at them, with phrases and puns praising math and literature. They passed along many lockers, some left open and unlocked overnight, and they came to another turn, keeping their eyes out for any signs of the man. They passed by a large cafeteria, with a high ceiling and twenty long rectangular tables, which in the day, were used to seat the loud, talkative students as they ate away at cheaply made, processed food. Beautiful art decorated the walls, and under different circumstances, Tara might have found herself enjoying the student-made drawings, and all of the struggles that they represented, the dreams that they encouraged. But now was not the time, so she pressed on, navigating the halls only by the light of the moon, which had now graced the girls with its presence, shining through the windows in the open rooms. They made a left, followed by a long corridor with more classrooms, and then another left turn. Soon, they found themselves face to face with a large set of red double doors. Tara cautiously opened the door, which thankfully was not locked, and stepped into the complete darkness of the next room. As the other girls entered behind her and closed the door, the slamming of the door sent echoes vibrating throughout the room, giving Tara a scope of the size of the room. She felt a large emptiness around her, and she could smell the faint musk of sweat around her. Then suddenly, a deep voice echoed around them.

"I did not expect to see this tonight."

The lights suddenly flicked on, causing the girls to flinch and cover their eyes. As their vision adjusted, they noticed that they were in a large gymnasium. Lines ran about the floor, and many basketball hoops were suspended in the air, waiting to be dunked upon. Doors leading to changing rooms were located on either side of the gym, and more doors on the opposite side led to the teacher's office. In the center of the room lay a large design of a wolf, surrounded by letters in a semi-cricle, spelling out, "Haddonfield Timberwolves." Laid lengthwise across the side of the court were long stands, meant to hold the parents as they happily cheered on the children in their favorite sports. But now, it was empty, save for one man sitting far in the right corner, running a long blade between his fingers. His orange eyes never left his weapon as he continued talking.

"Usually, the people I kill are fighters, warriors, people who seem like they have spat death in the face. So, imagine my surprise when I hear that a teenage girl seems to be stalking me. And it looks like she has friends with her. And they all have weapons with them. Tell me, who are you girls?"

"Better question," Tara said with a sneer. "Who are you?"

The man smiled at the girls.

"I have many names," the man said simply. "My true name is long forgotten, but the titles my enemies have given me have lasted throughout time. When I fought in Spain, they called me Hoja Demoniaca. During my time killing hit men in Germany, I was known as Hollisch Krieger. But, over the past few years, a new name has managed to stick on to my reputation. So, I suppose," he said, standing up from his seat on the bleachers. "You can call me…" He bowed.

"The Beast."

He began to casually walk down the steps of the bleachers, clanging his sword against the stairs as he walked. He acted very maturely for a psychopath, Tara noticed, and she became more curious about the killer now that she met him in person. He didn't even resemble the image in her head of what she thought he would look like. He dressed very neatly in his dark clothing, and he kept his hair combed, his back straight, and head held high. He didn't look like someone who had killed over thirty cops in a single week.

"But see," spoke The Beast as he made his way down the bleachers. "I'm much more interested in you. A group of teenage girls, strutting about Haddonfield, while searching for a mass murderer. If I didn't know any better, I'd reason that you were the crazy ones, running around and slaughtering people. You even have someone with a sword, which I can find somewhat honorable. So tell me, ladies, what brings such a… fascinating group of women to this school tonight?"

"We're here to kill you," Tara said forcefully. The words came out quite harsh, and Tara was intent on delivering on her statement. But The Beast simply chuckled, as he reached the gymnasium floor.

"No. No you're not," he simply stated, as if it were the most basic thing in the world. He elaborated. "You see, I'm not sure how well you are at reading people's emotions, but I am quite good at it. And from what I can see, you all look terrified. I can see the slight shaking in your legs; I can hear the stitching in your breath. I see your eyes quickly darting to the exit as you plan for the worst to come. Based on what you said, you know what I have done, and so clearly, you are wondering if I will do the same to you. You may hide under your false sense of security, pointing your useless guns at me, but it won't do you any good, and deep down your rational side is screaming at you to run, but you will ignore it, because you continue to hold on to some false belief that you can actually win. But you can't. None of you have any idea of what you're up against, and I can see it in your eyes. At least the cowgirl seems to have some basic idea of what she is doing, but it still won't do any good. It'll only add seconds to the amount of time it takes for me to kill you."

He sighed.

"None of you are who I am looking for. So, I am going to give you this one opportunity. None of you have tried to kill me yet, so I can't consider you targets. Technically. If you leave now, you will remain unharmed. But if you remain intent on trying to kill me, then I will break each and every one of you."

"You're a monster," Tara spoke sternly. It didn't matter what he had said. She knew what she had to do, even if what this man said was partially true. She felt the unease flowing among the girls, as even though they all had combat training and outnumbered him five-to-one, he showed no signs of worry. "You slaughter innocent people aimlessly, and you expect us to let you continue doing it? Get this straight. I don't know who you're looking for, but your search ends here. We are going to tear you down and make you pay for all of the horrible deeds that you've done. So help me God."

"Fuck yeah," Dash said enthusiastically to Tara's speech. But The Beast simply smiled and shook his head, clearly disappointed.

"If you truly wish to die then," he said. He looked up at the girls, his orange eyes glowing at them. "But trust me, not even God can help you now."

And with that, he vanished in a puff of black smoke. The girls were bewildered, wondering what had happened to the man. Suddenly, Tara felt something shift in the air above her. As if something was falling down upon her. Her instincts taking control, she rolled out of the way, as the others jumped back. From above, The Beast slammed down to the ground, his sword pointed downwards, puncturing the floor right where Tara had been standing a moment ago. Realizing his target had moved, he vanished again. Tara barely had time to get to her feet before The Beast appeared right in front of her, and took a high swipe with his blade. Tara managed to block the sword, but the impact knocked her down to the ground.

"Ha! Told you he could teleport!" Pinky enthusiastically shouted from the other end of the room. Tara growled.

"Not the time, Pinky!" Tara yelled back as she sprung to her feet. She took a lunge towards The Beast, but he swiftly dodged. She took several more swipes at him, but none of them connected, as The Beast easily moved away from Tara's sword. She took a vertical strike, but he sidestepped, and readied his blade for a counter-blow. But he quickly disappeared again, as gunfire whizzed by where he once stood. Pinky had fired these shots, and now she spun around, expecting the man to appear behind her. But he was not there. As she turned to face Tara, she found The Beast to be standing right there, and quickly raised her gun to try and shoot him again. But he grabbed onto her pistol, yanked it out of hands, and swatted her in the face with the end of the gun. The blow knocked her down, and AJ immediately ran over to the aid of her friend.

The Beast heard her footsteps approaching, and turned around while swinging his sword, attempting to catch her off guard. But she anticipated his move, ducking under his sword and throwing out her right fist. He managed to step back to avoid her attack, but now found himself on the defensive, trying to dodge AJ's flurry of punches. Each of her punches were tactically placed, so that he wouldn't be able to attack with his weapon. She was staying at too close of a range for him to get her with his sword, so The Beast switched to another tactic. He teleported away, and AJ took a roll to her left, anticipating another attack for above. But as she came to a stop, a boot swiftly connected with her jaw. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her wounded face, as The Beast started to chuckle.

"Come on, now, is that the best you can do?" he chastised.

CRACK

Suddenly, he felt something very hard collide with his side very fast. He doubled over, clutching his ribs, as Dash stood smugly over him with a baseball bat in her hands.

"Yeah that's right," Dash taunted. "Not so bad anymore once you take one of these babies to the ribs. Can you believe they just leave their supplies closet unlocked in this place?"

The Beast growled. "You smug little-"

He attempted to rise off of the ground and lunge at Dash, but Rachel had taken the opportunity to stop cowering in fear, and tackle The Beast to the ground. She started unleashing her own barrage of short punches, which The Beast mostly blocked by covering his face with his arms. As Rachel pounded away, he rolled around beneath her, trying to gain some leverage. Eventually, he was able to throw her off of him, and he quickly rolled to the side to avoid being struck in the face with Dash's baseball bat. By this time, Tara had run over, and The Beast now found himself stuck in the corner, surrounded by the three girls. But he did not panic; instead, he actually started to put some real effort into his combat. He was limited by the searing pain in his ribs, but he managed to make do.

Tara lunged at him with the sword while Dash took a swing with her bat. He teleported behind Rachel to counter this, and tried to slice her at the waist. She managed to, in an impressive display of athleticism, bend her way out of danger, as Tara recovered and took another swing at The Beast. He blocked her attack, and then parried, which Tara jumped out of the way from. Dash took a running start before taking a powerful strike with her bat, but The Beast teleported, and as a result, Dash crashed into Rachel, knocking her off balance. She managed to recover, but she immediately yelled at Dash for her unsuccessful tactic.

"Watch where you're going! You nearly broke my skull with that thing," Rachel shouted at Dash, who sneered in response.

"Don't chastise me, bitch!" Dash shouted back. "Our lives are in fucking danger here! Now's no-"

Dash was cut off as The Beast appeared next to her, and delivered a swift kick to the side of her head, knocking her unconscious. Rachel was briefly stunned, and in this moment, The Beast took the handle of his sword and brought it hard to Rachel's nose, sending her flying back. Tara started the attack again, now noticing that she was the only one of her friends left standing. Her attacks became more desperate, as she struggled to land a hit on the nearly untouched monster of a man. But after a few swings, The Beast decided to end the fight.

Instead of dodging, The Beast locked swords with Tara, and moved his body closer to hers as their swords were pressing against each other.

"You choose to fight with a sword," he said, looking her square in the eye. His voice showed no fear, and no hint of mercy. "I admire that. Most people use a gun for protection, a coward's way of fighting. But want honor in your kills. That makes you special. But you don't know how to use your weapon. Your stance is unbalanced, and your posture is poor. You are denying your sword its true purpose. And for that, I guess you're not special enough."

With one swift movement, he knocked Tara's sword away sending it flying towards the wall. Then, he forcefully grabbed onto Tara's upper arm, and wrapped it around her back, as he changed his position so that he was pressed against her spine. He grabbed onto her other shoulder, and forced the girl to her knees, while carefully placing his knee against her back. The, Tara screamed in agony as with one quick snap, The Beast pulled back on her arms, and dislocated both of her shoulders.

__________

Fiona walked past the school, still feeling the same horrible feeling that been consuming her for the past two hours. She wasn't crying any more, but her eyes were still red and her expression wasn't any brighter. She kept thinking of the terrible mistake she made earlier, which now seemed to cost her everything. She didn't really know why she had decided to do something so crazy, but she thought that just maybe, everything would turn out alright in the end. How idiotic she had to be to make that decision. Now, she was walking the streets of her old hometown by herself, with no one to turn to and no one to call. She didn't even think about the serial killer that had been stalking the town. In fact, she probably wouldn't mind if she got attacked tonight. She felt as if she really didn't have much to live for anyway. She had nothing left; everything was over. Her friendship with Tara was finished, her life with her new friends was done, and her role in P.O.N.Y. had been diminished. She wished that she could call Jacob and talk to him, but she knew that he probably wouldn't understand anything. Besides, Tara was the one who had his number, so that idea was out of the question. She sighed, and leaned against the chain-link fence of the high school. She had never gotten to see the inside of Haddonfield Senior High, but she heard that it was rather nice inside. She wished that she could have been able to see it, to continue her future with her old friends. But like the rest of her life, nothing ever turned out to be simple.

Suddenly, she heard a scream. A very scared, painful, feminine scream coming from the school building. She thought it was very strange that somebody would be in the school this late at night. If she recalled correctly, she always thought that the schools remained closed overnight. So she didn't know why somebody would be in the school, let alone screaming in it. And then, she remembered that there was a serial killer on the loose. She froze in panic, slowly figuring out what this meant.

She realized that someone was stuck inside the high school, and whoever it was, they sounded like they were in grave danger. She thought of what she could do. She thought about calling the girls, and letting them know what was happening. But she realized that it might not be such a good idea, seeing as how it would raise too many questions, and how Tara probably already turned the others against her. Besides, they wouldn't make it in time anyway. In fact, no one was close enough to the school to save the woman trapped in the building. Fiona realized what her only option was, and putting aside all of her own personal worries, ran up the hill as fast as she could. She knew she probably had no chance of truly saving the woman inside, but she had to try.

She was the only one who could help.

__________

Tara was brutally thrown against the wall, landing right next to her sword. She let out a pained groan, as The Beast slowly walked over to her body. She was merely a foot from her blade, but she couldn't get it. Every time she tried to move her arms, intense pain would rush throughout her body, rendering her unable to reach her weapon. She looked at The Beast, who was smirking as he came ever closer to reaching her and ending her life.

"Why?" Tara managed to choke out through the pain. "Why are you doing this? Who are looking for that you need to cause all of this misery." He chuckled at her.

"I have no idea who I am looking for," The Beast said honestly. Tara was surprised by his response. She was incredibly confused.

"But… but then why?" She asked. "Why do this?" The Beast simply continued to chuckle at Tara's ignorance towards the truth, and her desperate search for the truth.

"Normally, I wouldn't tell you. By this point, the people are usually so desperately begging for their lives that I wouldn't bother telling them. But," The Beast considered. "You are not like the others. You at least attempt to fight honorably, even if it is rather poor. So perhaps, you deserve to know why you are about to die." He slung is sword over his shoulder as he recalled the past years leading up to his current life.

"About ten years ago, the United States of America was at war in Iraq. I lived in one of the surrounding regions of a soon-to-be war zone. At the time, I lived the life of a hermit, wandering around the world trying to live in the best ways possible. But, I had recently found myself staying in an area of Iraq, which I soon found to call my home. Unfortunately, it soon became the target of a soon to be war zone, as US soldiers were going to march through my town. I wished to avoid the conflict, but the other people in my region had other plans. They called a rise to action, a plan to kill the soldiers as they marched through the streets. I was torn apart. Was I to stay out of the conflict, or support the people who had become almost family to me? I needed my destiny to be shown to me. So, I traveled to one of my new colleagues, an African witch doctor who lived in a small hut about ten miles from where I was. I consulted her, and she made my fate clear to me. She told me I was to defend my home at all costs, and so, my mind was made up."

"Around two nights later, the Americans marched through the streets of my home, terrifying us all with their large tanks and heavy guns. That was when we launched the trap set for them. Fifty men jumped out and opened fire on the soldiers. It wasn't much of a fight for them. The superior weaponry made the Americans the easy victor. However, I wasn't so easy to kill. They could never strike me down, no matter how much they tried. And after an hour of fighting, I managed to slaughter every soldier single-handedly. I felt great pride in my victory. My home would be safe, at last, I thought. Yet when I got home, I found nothing but corpses, and, an Iraqi rebel force walking through the town. They were an insane group of bandits that were called in for support against the Americans, who butchered the women and children to guarantee that extra food and supplies were given to them as reward. I realized then, that I had killed the wrong people. So, I rectified it. I killed them without mercy, breaking their bones, shattering their skulls, tearing out their hearts. By the time the sun had risen, what once was my home had become nothing but a sea of blood and bodies, and I was the only remaining soul left."

"In defeat, I made my way back to the witch doctor. I had failed to save my home, and I had committed so many sins against humanity that I didn't consider myself a human being. She had managed to avoid the chaos, and she happily took me in. I told her that I wanted to die, that I wanted my sins to be washed away. But when she read me my fate, it wasn't what I had expected. She had told me off all of the atrocities that I had done, and that I must be punished for them. She told me that I had become cursed, forced to walk the earth for an endless number of days while spending each passing seconds suffering of my sins. There would be no respite for me. Unless, I could do one thing. In order to end my suffering, I would have to be killed by a true warrior, one with the purest heart and most honorable intentions, to counter my hideous deeds. Only then, will I finally be rid of my sins. It is my fate."

Tara took everything in.

"You…you mean that's the reason?" She asked in disbelief. Her body was still screaming at her. "You mean that you've been butchering all of these innocent people because you want to die?"

"No," said The Beast simply. "Because I need to die. I didn't kill innocent people. I attacked soldiers, fighters, policemen; honorable men who had the chance of killing me. I've been wandering this earth for ten years searching for the person who will end my life. If they tried to fight, then they were considered a possible warrior, and I had to test their capabilities. But it always ended in failure." He stood right next to Tara, and slowly pressed his blade up against her chin. Tara flinched when she felt the metal touching her, and she was surprised by how hot the blade actually was.

"The woman told me that I would know who the warrior was when I saw them. And when I saw you, I thought I might have found the person who would finally end me. Hell, you even fought with a sword. But you're nothing more than just another pointless soul who doesn't deserve to fight me. I guess we all can't be special sometimes."

"Leave her alone!"

The Beast was about to slice open Tara's neck, when he heard the call coming from of the doorway to the gym. He and Tara looked over, and saw Fiona standing in the doorway, staring at the scene before her. Tara had never expected Fiona to show up, and in some ways, she never wanted her to. The Beast looked puzzled at Fiona's appearance. But soon, he was laughing to himself about the bizarreness of the situation.

"You've got to be kidding," he spoke. "There are more of you. Well," he said, examining Fiona, studying the way she shuffled around in place. "I can't say I'm threatened. I've already taken out your friends, miss. And judging by the way you're standing, I can already see that you're not the person I'm looking for. So run along, and just leave me to my work."

Fiona was somewhat surprised by his behavior. He clearly wasn't scared by her, and looking around, she saw why. He had managed to dispose of the other girls, who were lying on the floor in pain. Even AJ, who was vastly more experienced than the rest of them, couldn't stand up to this man. She looked back at Tara, who had a terrified look in her eyes. She was afraid for many reasons, most predominately being that a sword was being held to her throat, and it was quite clear that The Beast had every intention of killing her. But there was another reason why Tara was scared, and Fiona understood why.

Tara was looking at Fiona fearfully, and at the same time motioned towards the door with a slight tilt of her head. Fiona knew that Tara wanted her to leave. Not because she didn't want to help, or she didn't want to see her. Tara was afraid that Fiona was going to die. She was telling her friend, who before had repulsed her, to leave her behind, escape and live to fight another day. And in all honesty, Fiona was considering it. She knew that if she fought this man, she wouldn't survive. She knew that The Beast saw her fear. Her legs were shaking, and she was nervously twitching around in place, unsure of what to do. She was going to die unless she left immediately. It wasn't hard at all. Fiona closed her eyes and imagined it. She imagined running away from the school, leaving Tara behind to die, following the last wishes of the girl who hated her. She imagined escaping Haddonfield, and starting a new life, a better life, beyond the hate and discrimination that she had experienced.

And then she thought of reading a paper about a small town massacre. She imagined a list of pictures that showed the faces of the victims. And she imagined Tara's face on that list, and knowing that when it truly mattered in her life, Fiona Samswell was a failure.

Fiona opened her eyes, and with an intense drive, spoke something louder and more forcefully than she had ever spoken anything in her entire life.

"I said, LEAVE HER ALONE!" Fiona shouted as she took a fighting stance. The fear was gone, replaced by a burning sensation in her chest, fueling her to fight. There was no more hesitation, just confidence, as Tara witnessed her friend become almost an entirely different person. The Beast sighed, removing his sword from Tara's chin, now pointing it at Fiona.

"Fine," he said as he took a stance. "If you really want to die that badly, I guess I can accommodate you." And with that, he lunged at her, expecting his blade to push through her chest and kill her.

Except Fiona had managed to roll out of the way, and was now running to the other side of the gym. She completely ignored him, instead moving as fast as she could away from him. But in a puff of smoke he appeared in front of her, and prepared to strike. She was started by his sudden appearance, but managed to dodge the incoming blade again, and now took off in the opposite direction. Her plan was simple: bide as much time as possible, get as far away from him as she could, until she figured out a way to take The Beast down. It seemed clear to her that a head-on approach would be suicide, so she played it safe. Soon, The Beast appeared near her again, and attempted to sweep her leg. But, she jumped over, and gained some distance on him. He recovered much quicker than she anticipated however, and soon, he began attacking her with a series of quick slashes that she was finding it difficult to evade.

Soon, she began to notice things about The Beast. Like how before he slashed, he twisted his elbow slightly to the left, and his right heel moved ever so slightly. Now, he lunged, which Fiona managed to dodge, and she switched up her strategy. She threw a punch towards his head, knowing full well that he would dodge it. Instead of watching her hand, she looked at his body, noticing how he moved when he was evading. Quickly, she threw more punches, and finally got a sense of how The Beast moved. Suddenly, she stopped her attack, and let The Beast take a swing at her. He smirked, realizing that she was practically giving him a free shot. He took a high swipe at her, which she ducked. Then, she tried to connect a right hook to the side of his head. He laughed as he dodged, noticing Fiona's decreasing performance.

"What's wrong," he stated as he evaded. "Are you getting ti-"

WHACK

Before The Beast knew it, her left foot smacked him hard in the face, causing him to stumble backwards. He felt his nose, noticing the blood running from it in a light stream. He grimaced and growled, before charging at Fiona. He began swinging more wildly at her, trying to kill her with a vengeance. But in his anger, he became sloppy, and Fiona started landing more crucial punches on him. She kicked him in the knees, battered his ribs, struck his face, and hit him with every chance she got.

And it was then that Fiona noticed that she might actually win the fight. That she might be able to defeat The Beast and save her friends.

But in this brief glorious thought, Fiona lost herself, and The Beast had disappeared from her sight. He himself had developed a new tactic, and he was now constantly teleporting around Fiona, encompassing her in a circle of black smoke. She lost track of him, and was completely caught off guard when a powerful fist hit her square in the jaw. She was sent flying backwards, and she struggled to get to her feet. The hit had made her disoriented, and everything around her seemed to blur. She saw shapes moving rapidly towards her, and her instincts told her to move. She barely managed to roll out of the way of The Beast's sword, before she slowly got to her feet. Already, she was forced to quickly dodge a ferocious series of slashes and strokes that was being thrown at her. The world was clearing up around her, but she wouldn't regain her composure until it was too late. She needed more time, and did the only thing she could think of.

She quickly took off her sweatshirt, revealing the plain green T-shirt underneath, and threw it at The Beast. It landed on his head, but it barely slowed him down. He threw it away, and then managed to kick Fiona hard in the stomach. She was knocked down, and was now lying on the ground next to Tara, who was trying to tell her friend to get up. Fiona felt something approaching her, and she reached around her, trying to find anything to use for support. A shadow fell over her, and she grabbed the first thing she could find, lifting it over her head for protection as a blade fell down upon her.

She heard the sound of metal clashing against metal, and Fiona realized what she had managed to find: Tara's sword. Quickly thinking, she kicked The Beast in the shin, and rose up to face him. The sword felt bizarre in her hands, as she had never held a weapon, but she had to quickly adjust to it. Her world had cleared up around her as the effects of the hit had worn off, and now, she was ready to fight.

The Beast and Fiona now started to trade blows with swords, blocking one another's attacks and taking quick strokes with their blades. Fiona was clearly on the defensive. She couldn't find any openings to attack, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out against The Beast's onslaught. She parried The Beast's low swipe, and followed it up with a shoulder block. The Beast stumbled backwards, and suddenly, Fiona realized that she had a chance. It was a very brief opportunity, and it was possibly suicidal, but she felt like she couldn't hold out anymore, and she was getting desperate.

So, with all of her remaining strength, Fiona threw her sword at The Beast. He recovered, deflecting the incoming blade away with his own sword. Suddenly, Fiona charged into him, taking The Beast by surprise. She grabbed onto his right arm, which was holding his blade, and brought a knee up into his elbow, splintering the bone and dislodging the blade from his hand. She grabbed onto his sword, and pushed herself away from the man. And while he gasped in pain at his wound, Fiona lunged and thrust The Beast's own sword through his right shoulder and out of his back.

He screamed in pain and collapsed to the ground as Fiona fell to her knees. She breathed heavily, unable to believe that she was actually able to overcome her foe. She rose to her feet, and then picked up Tara's sword from the ground. While The Beast found himself in an unfavorable position, he wasn't panicking, at least not entirely. He had been caught in similar situations before, and he would be able to escape again. It was all a routine matter to him.

He silently readied a small knife that he stored in the sleeve of his coat.

"What are you waiting for?" The Beast taunted Fiona. "Do it. Finish me. End this curse of a life."

Fiona looked at the sword she was holding in her hand. It would be a simple matter to kill him. All it would take would be for Fiona to walk up to him, and impale him through the chest. She heard Tara calling from behind her, telling her to finish the job. And really, there was no reason why he shouldn't die. It would be cruel not to do it, seeing as how his intention was his own demise. Fiona took a deep breath.

The Beast readied his knife, preparing for a fatal blow. Then, Fiona slowly lowered her blade.

"No," she stated simply. "I…I won't do it."

The Beast was stunned. This had never happened before. In all of the years of fighting, everyone had always been trying to end his life. And this girl should have been begging to do it. He attacked her friends and nearly killed her, but she refused to do it. She was even in an advantageous position, still she refused.

"What… what do you mean?" he asked her.

"I can't kill you. That's all," Fiona said again. Tara was fairly certain that Fiona had lost her mind, giving in to her moral code like this. Didn't she have any idea who she was talking to?

"Why? Why not?" The Beast demanded to know. Fiona shook her head, and dropped her sword to the ground, the blade clanging against the gym floor.

"I know that you've done a lot of bad things in the past," Fiona admitted. "And I know that if I let you live, you'll probably do them again. But I won't kill you. I will never take a human life, no matter who they are."

"You're crazy," The Beast scolded. "You're willing to risk the lives of so many people, just because you don't want any blood on your hands."

"It's not that," Fiona said, showing confidence. "If I let you live, you might harm people. But…I know there's also a chance that you can redeem yourself. That you can become a better person, contribute to the world. You don't have to harm people. And… maybe, in the end, you could find a happy life. I don't really know, I guess. All I know is that I can't kill anyone knowing that they still have a chance to do good. After all," she smiled at The Beast. It wasn't a cocky or smug smile, but rather a soft, generous one, that seemed to have a deeper meaning behind it. "Everyone deserves to be shown a little kindness now and then."

The Beast took in her words in, letting them settle in his mind. This girl was crazy. She had the intention of letting him, a mass murderer, live just on the slight chance that he could reform his ways. She had beaten him down, impaled him with his own blade, yet still, she refused to bring an end to his life. It was bizarre behavior, and even stranger considering who it was coming from. He took the whole situation in.

He was nearly killed by an eighteen year-old girl, but in the end, she simply wanted to have a better life than he already had. The Beast thought hard about it. Then, he started to laugh. It was an incredibly happy feeling that was rushing through him. He felt a strange sense of relief and longing. He smiled at Fiona.

"In all of the most unlikely of places," he said to himself. Then he looked Fiona straight in the eye. "What is your name?" Fiona was taken aback by the question.

"Uh…Fiona. Fiona Samswell," she said softly. The Beast smiled at her.

"Well then, Fiona, let me tell you something. You are insane. Letting me live is one of the most idiotic ideas I have ever seen. It showed a great deal of compassion on your part. But you don't have to worry about more victims. I have no one left to find. The search is over."

"What are you talking about?" Fiona said, puzzled. He simply chuckled in amusement.

"Look Fiona, it doesn't matter if you want to kill me or not. I may not be in a position to fight now, and you may not want to kill me. But it simply doesn't matter. You will kill me, Fiona. It may not be for generations, but you will bring about my glorious demise. It's already been decided."

He laughed to himself once more in sheer joy, before struggling his way to his feet. Despite the intense pain he was feeling, he still managed to smile.

"The fight is over for now. But we will meet again, Miss Samswell. And when we do, our fates will finally be decided."

And with that, he vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Fiona standing alone in the middle of the gymnasium floor, as her friends finally started to stir.

__________

Tara was lying on her bed in the motel. After AJ jammed her shoulders back into place, the girls thought that they should celebrate their victory with a large party. As far as Tara knew, the other girls were right where she left them, in Rachel's room, sitting together, and praising Fiona for her amazingly talented work. Tara didn't really feel like celebrating though, and so she took leave for her room, where had been deep in thought for the past few hours. And despite the fact that it was one o'clock in the morning, she didn't feel tired at all.

That was when she heard a soft knock at the door.

"Um, Tara," said a small voice. "It's, uh, me. Can we, uh, you know, talk for a bit?"

Tara considered keeping Fiona locked outside, but she knew it would be a very cruel thing to do. And given Fiona's work in saving her life, the least she could do was speak to her. Slowly, Tara walked to the door, and opened it up to see Fiona nervously shuffling in place. Tara welcomed her inside, and then both girls took a seat on the bed, laying their backs against the frame. Tara felt very awkward sitting here, as she painfully recalled what happened the last time she and Fiona were at this proximity to each other. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Fiona finally sighed and started to speak.

"Look, Tara," Fiona said somberly. "I…I'm really sorry for what happened earlier. I…I didn't know what came over me, and I know I made a massive, stupid mistake. I should have been honest with you a long time ago. And…I know that I badly hurt you, and I broke your trust in ways that I never should have. I feel awful about it; just terrible. So, I understand if you still really don't want to talk to me, or even see me for a while. I guess I pretty much deserve that."

Tara took a deep breath.

"Fiona, you don't have to say anything," Tara said, kindly. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I majorly overreacted to everything, and I said some really hurtful and ignorant shit to you; things that should never be said to everyone. I… I guess that was more of my parents saying that than I was. I don't even know why I thought that stuff, in the first place. They were… not the most pleasant thought. I've kept from my childhood. I've been feeling horrible about it for hours now. But there really isn't any excuse I can make that will fully make things up to you."

Tara took sighed before finishing. "Fiona, you're one of my best friends, and I've treated you like crap today. I hope that we can move past this, and just, you know, continue onwards."

"So, we can still be friends?" Fiona asked hopefully. Tara smiled.

"Yeah, I think that would be for the best," she admitted. Fiona took a sigh of relief, and relaxed on the bed. Everything was wrapping up rather nicely on this day. She had saved her friends, stopped a mass murderer, and came out of the closet to her best friend. All in all, this day wasn't terrible.

But Tara was still thinking of one particular thought that was stuck on her mind. And she knew that Fiona would be the only person who could answer it.

"Hey Fiona, what happened to you in this town, anyway?" Tara harmlessly asked. Fiona's mood immediately dampened, and she turned away from her friend.

"I… I just don't want to talk about it right now…" Fiona said, disappointed. She knew it was ridiculous. She could stand up to a serial killer, yet she couldn't talk about a simple matter to her best friend. But Tara understood Fiona's concern was great, and decided that, perhaps, it was best to give her friend some space.

"Alright, Fiona," Tara said sweetly. "I'm sure you'll tell me when you're ready to."

After one minute of some comfortable silence, Fiona took a long sigh.

"I was just twelve years old."

Tara was surprised that Fiona had started speaking, but she didn't waste any time. She scooted over closer to Fiona, as the girl continued to tell her story.

"I was just starting the seventh grade, and my life was pretty good. My home life was decent. My mom was a very sweet woman, and she always made sure that I was raised properly. My father was also nice, most of the time. Sometimes, he would get drunk and I was pretty sure that he may have beaten my mom, but I was never really sure. But other than that, he was very loving and supportive. At my school, I wasn't really alone. I had plenty of friends, Jacob included. I was still mostly shy, but when I was with my friends, I felt great. I felt like I could talk to people and the world wouldn't end. And, thinking about it, it was all pretty fine."

"But my family wasn't exactly made up of… tolerant people. I always recalled my parents complaining about gays, for everything that they did. My father believed that the Westborough Baptist Church was made up of some of the best people in the world, and in all honesty, I think he wanted to join them. He always said, 'We have to butcher those fags at the source, otherwise they'll destroy all that is sacred about our country'. And I guess, being around that for so long, some of it rubbed off on me. I went to join my father at protests, angry marches, and rallies. I didn't see anything wrong with it at the time. I honestly didn't know what the problem was. I even taunted one of the kids at our school, who was openly gay. I said some very cruel and unkind things to that kid. I'm pretty sure the other kids and I may have painfully scarred him. But I kept on a smile. I didn't know the consequences of my actions."

"Then, I entered the seventh grade, and I started to notice different things about my friends. I noticed how pretty they were, what they smelled like, little things like that. I didn't really make anything of it at the time. I just assumed it was a puberty thing. Then, it got worse. I suddenly got these weird urges to spend more time closer with my friends, to hug the girls more, to do anything to get close to them. I was starting to get worried. These urges were distracting me so much, that I couldn't think properly. I had to take swimming in gym, and I couldn't wait to see all of the girls in their swimsuits. It was starting to scare me. I just told myself that everyone went through this, and that in a week or two, it would all go away. But it was relentless, never leaving me alone. It just kept probing at my mind, twisting around my thoughts and everything I knew."

"And then, one night, I realized what was going on. I was trying to get to sleep, but I couldn't get the girls out of my head. And then I just put it all together, I guess. And I started crying. I really did. I had to lock myself in my room so that my mother wouldn't see how upset I was. I didn't understand what was happening, or why it had to happen to me. I always thought I was going to live a happy life, get married, and maybe have kids. But that night, I felt my dreams dying. I thought that God had abandoned me, or worse, that he hated me. That maybe I had done something horribly wrong, and this was His way of punishing me. Do you have any idea what it feels like to think that God wants you to suffer? That the almighty being of love and compassion thinks you are a monster? It's beyond horrible. I refused to go to school the next day, because I didn't want to face my friends, and have them find out what I was."

"But I knew that I would have to let it out eventually. I couldn't keep this trapped inside for long, it was driving me crazy. I thought that my friends wouldn't nearly be as angry as I was, and that if I told them, maybe, just maybe, they could accept me. So one day, after school, I asked my friend Stephanie to walk with me, and then I came out to her by the buses. I didn't really know what to expect from her. I thought maybe some kind of shock, or hopefully, some acceptance. Instead, she slapped me in the face and walked off. By the next day at school, the news had spread all around the school that I was a lesbian. The taunting was relentless. I couldn't take three steps without someone insulting me, or shoving me, or taunting me with endless slurs. I had to start skipping classes just to escape the torment. I lost all of my friends; the only time they bothered speaking to me was to tell me that I was going to burn in Hell for an eternity for what a disgusting creature I was. My mom wouldn't let me stay home from school, so I was forced to keep returning to the endless torture of my peers. Even Jacob showed no mercy. One day, he and some of his friends cornered me outside the school. They beat on me, as each of them took turns calling me a disgusting faggot. I'm sure he doesn't even remember it now. I could never explain to my parents what had happened because I didn't want them to know what a putrid being I actually was."

"So, that's why you hate this place so much," Tara said. It was terrible what these children had done to her, even at such a young age. But Fiona shook her head. It was getting harder for her to speak, as water was now in her eyes, and a knot was starting to from in her throat.

"No," Fiona stated. "That's not it." She took a deep breath to calm down, and then continued on.

"I was feeling very alone at the time. Everywhere I went I was mercilessly insulted and taunted. I had nowhere to turn. Even at home, the cyberbullying was relentless. All of the people who used to talk to me were gone, and people who remained constantly told me to kill myself because I was a constant disappointment. I needed somewhere, anywhere to turn to. And I realized that the only people I had left were my parents. The people who raised me to hate the very thing I've become. I never should have thought that they could've understood. But I was so desperate, and I thought that maybe, they would understand, because I was their daughter, and they loved me. So that very night, over a chicken dinner, I told them what I was. I told them everything, from the bullying to the sexual thoughts, to my self-disgust. And you would never believe the look of disappointment on their faces. After I came out, my father stood up, and left the house. My mom didn't speak to me at all; she just sat there, staring at her dinner plate. I never saw her look so utterly repulsed in her life. And I felt more alone than I ever had before. I understood that even my own parents couldn't stand to love me anymore, just because of what I was. It was about two hours later, and I was still sobbing in my bedroom, wishing I was dead."

Fiona found it incredibly challenging to speak now, as she was constantly getting choked up on her sobs. Tears were now flowing down her face, as her memories came back to haunt her in full.

"Then my father returned," she said, reliving the absolute fear of that night. "I don't know how many drinks he had that night, but he was hammered. It was brutal. He marched around the house, screaming about how his legacy was ruined, and how I had cost him everything by being a 'stupid little fag'. He demanded that I come down to him and face the consequences for my 'inhuman behavior'. When I refused, he came up to my room, and kicked the door in. He slapped me in the face, and then pushed me onto my bed. He yelled relentlessly, calling me every horrible name in the book. I felt each and every one of them pierce through me like a knife. He hit me again, calling me the 'biggest disappointment in his entire life', and how he was so ashamed about his 'faggoty daughter'. My mother locked herself in her room. She never even tried to help me." Fiona was now finding it incredibly hard to speak even the most basic words, but she tried the best she could to continue on.

"He (sob) … he t-told me that he would h-have to punish me. (sob) Make me p-pray that I was d-dead. He hit me m-more, (sob) relentlessly b-beating me down further and further. He said, 'I'll h-have to cure you' and 'I can make you u-u-u-understand the (sob) error of your ways'."

"Then, h-he ordered me to (sob) take my c-clothes off."

Oh God, no, Tara thought, hoping that what she was thinking wasn't actually about to happen. Fiona could barely keep herself together, her intense sobbing now shaking the bed as tears streamed down her face.

"I r-refused, and he h-hit me again. (sob) I asked him w-what h-he was g-going to d-do to (sob) me. I've never s-s-seen him l-look so angry, so f-f-full of hate. H-he looked at m-me with d-disgust and said," Fiona struggled to get the words out, every painful memory rushing through her, making her relive all of the pain, fear and humiliation of that night.

"H-he said, 'I'm going to fix you'. And then… h-he… he…"

Fiona couldn't speak anymore. Everything was simply too intense for her to bear. She was reliving each moment, each painful, dreadful, pulsing moment that had caused her so much trouble throughout her life. Suddenly, Tara reached over and pulled Fiona into a tight hug. She couldn't bear to hear any more of the story, knowing full well what was about to be said. She believed that if she never heard it spoken, then it couldn't be true. It had to be untrue; it simply had to be. Fiona was currently reliving hell, and Tara needed to do whatever she could to guide her friend through it.

Fiona felt like she needed to say more. She could have said how every second felt like someone burning her flesh away from her. She could have said how her mother let it go on for an hour before she finally called the police. She could have said how despite moving in with a foster family, she still couldn't escape her past. She could have said how it took months of therapy for her to stop considering suicide. She could have said how she was still alone at her new school, and how she was still taunted all throughout the rest of her life. She could have said that every time she looks at herself in the mirror, she still sees nothing but a monster. She could have said that every night this time of year, she relives every moment of her past in her nightmares, and starts to wish that she would die again. She even could have said that no matter what happens in the future, she'll always be haunted by a tragic incident in her past that was caused by nothing other than absolute hate. She could have said that, but she didn't. Everything hurt so much, that she felt like she didn't have the strength to say anything anymore. All she managed to choke out through her sobs was,

"How could anyone hate someone so much, just because of who they are?"

It was a question that Tara greatly considered throughout the night, as she never left Fiona's sobbing form for many hours, even until the sun came up.

__________

Celestia and Wilson had no proper explanation for The Beast. While he explained his motives, Tara had never found out why he had such unnatural talents. Wilson simply said that he would look into the matter, clearly not as interested as the girls were. But it was still nice to be back at Camelot, and the girls took no time getting to their beds for a nice long sleep. Even as they crawled into bed, Fiona and Tara were still talking to each other. They were placed across from each other, and kept their conversation going from the long car ride back.

And honestly, Dash was sick of it. Throughout the seven hour car ride, those two girls never seemed to stop their conversation, and if Dash didn't know any better, she'd say that the two had never seen each other in years with the amount of things they talked about. In truth, Tara and Fiona were already great friends, but now their bond appeared to be strengthened to such a degree that it was starting to become a hindrance to Dash's mental health. She was pretty sure that even Pinky did not speak this much. It was late in the night, and Tara and Fiona were still quietly talking to each other, right above Dash's head. It had gotten to the point where she couldn't fall asleep, and she was getting very annoyed with their behavior. Finally, she called out.

"Will you to dykes stop making out up there?! I'm trying to get some fucking sleep," she called out above. While Fiona didn't really know how Tara would respond, Tara took the comment in quite the joking manner.

"Calm down, Dash," Tara teased. "We're just having a conversation." Dash rolled her eyes.

"Just shut up, will ya?" Dash said, closing her eyes. "And if I here you two having sex above me, I will freak the fuck out. Fair warning." With that, the girls decided that it would be best to stop their conversation for the night, and perhaps get some sleep of their own. Tara sighed.

"Well, good night, Fiona," Tara said while rolling over to get some sleep. Fiona smiled at the comment.

"Good night to you to, Tara," Fiona spoke. She was very glad that Tara seemed to fully accept their friendship. And while Fiona did doubt that she would get what she truly wanted, for now, she was content with just having a friend again.

Fiona closed her eyes, and for the first time that week, she had a nice, long, relaxing dream.

End of Chapter 3

Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord (Striking Back)

Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord

Part 1 of 2: Striking Back

It was a day like no other. A day made simply to admire the absolute beauty of the world. And luckily on this day, the carnival once again returned to Bay View, Illinois, as it did every year. And it was AJ's favorite time of year, for it was the day that her father got off from work, and her mother could focus a little bit more of her attention on her. Of course, AJ knew quite well that someone in her family required far more attention than her. Even at the incredibly bright young age of five, (which she considered the perfect age for anyone to be) she understood that it was truly the infant that required the most intention. After all, her sister was barely a half-year in age. Now much later in the day as the four of them sat in the car, driving home from a long, luxurious day at the carnival. She had done all of the proper things that were a must whenever going to a carnival. She rode the Farris wheel, she ate some candy apples, she played lots of fun games, and she got to spend time with her parents, which she loved the most. Now, she was sitting in the backseat of the car, her father driving while her mother nesting the baby in her arms. Atop her head was a small present from her mother, something won at the carnival in order to make up for the lack of attention.

"Now honey," said the mother as they pulled into their driveway. "My mother is going to come for a visit this weekend." AJ's father groaned like a toad.

"Dang it, you know she hates me," AJ's father whined. They got out of the car, and made their way to the house. It was a simple house, not two stories tall, painted white, and located on the side of a large hill. It didn't seem like much, but AJ loved it ever so much. It held quite the charm to her, and she enjoyed its simplistic nature greatly. Her father ran a hand through his spiky blonde hair, before holding the door open for his wife.

"But she hasn't seen little Katie yet," the mother spoke, entering the house. "And AJ loves it whenever Granny visits. Isn't that right, AJ?"

"Oh yeah," AJ said happily. "I love it when Granny comes to play. Is she coming here soon?"

"Hopefully not," said AJ's father, locking the door. AJ giggled.

"Granny doesn't like your funny haircut," AJ laughed. Her father leaned down to her level, and gave a half-serious look.

"Now Anna-Jean, it's not nice to make fun of other people's hair," he scolded. However, his intentions were not mean, as he removed her hat and rubbed her hair, making AJ laugh more. "Besides, you're the one who has to wear this funny hat!"

"You're silly daddy!" AJ squealed in delight. She didn't always get to see her father, but he was always so sweet when she finally did. He picked her up, and placed her on his back, running around the house with her, as she pretended she was soaring across the sky like an eagle. But her mother was against having fun (at least it was what AJ believed,) and she opened the door to the backyard.

"Matthew, stop running around the house. You'll break a vase, or worse, your hip," AJ's mother scolded. "At least run around outside."

"Carol, I'm thirty-two," the father laughed. "Come on, AJ, we are needed outside!" With a heroic gesture, AJ was carried outside. As she passed by her mother, she made sure to make a face at her younger sister, which was greeted with many giggles from the infant. She wasn't sure how long she spent playing with her father, but every moment felt great. They played many games together, and AJ was continually having a blast. Her mother appeared at the backyard gate, as AJ and her father were lying on the ground, playing a lovely game of I Spy. She looked slightly worried, but her father looked over to her with no fear.

"Matthew, could you come here for a minute?" she asked. She had put the baby in the crib a few minutes prior. "I think something might be wrong with the oven." AJ's father sighed, before standing up.

"I'll be right back, AJ," he said with a smile, before jogging inside. AJ looked up above at all of the beautiful clouds flying overhead. She saw many fantastic shapes in the clouds. She saw a bunny rabbit. She saw a car. She even thought that she saw a pretty bird.

And then, her house exploded.

__________

October 18th, 2015

"Fucking wake up, already!" Dash shook AJ ferociously, forcing the girl to awaken from her dream. She heard the alarm bells sound around her, signaling her to wake up, but she was in such a deep sleep that she failed to notice. It wasn't often that she slept so heavily, but it was such a pleasant little dream. Of course, now, the exact nature of the dream was lost, but she was certain that she didn't want to wake up from it. But it was no matter now, as she and the rest of the girls headed off for the daily training.

"Ugh," AJ let out a moan as she stood up. "Man, I am tired."

"Just get up," Dash complained. "You're one of the few people can actually stand to speak to." AJ took the compliment half-heartedly, and she finished getting dressed with the others. As per standard, the girls spent till noon training and going over strategies and planning. AJ was used to the vigorous training schedule, and she was glad to see the others were adjusting accordingly. She saw Pinky at the shooting range, showing off a deep love of psychopathic range as she swapped between guns at lightning pace and firing off the rounds with expert precision. Rachel was enjoying herself in the large pool, (now wearing appropriate attire). She swam many laps back and forth, showing off much grace in her form. And meanwhile, Fiona and Tara were sparring, having their own conversation that AJ couldn't quite make out.

"You promise that you won't tell anyone?" Fiona said, dodging another jab.

"Fiona, I told you before, if you won't tell them, then I will respect that," Tara said while trying to stay light on her feet. "But you do know that you'll have to tell them eventually. You are living with these people, after all."

"I'll tell them," Fiona said shyly. "Eventually. When I find the best time." She caught a glimpse of Rachel swimming behind Tara, and quickly turned away. She danced around Tara, so that her back was now facing the pool. Tara was confused by the maneuver, until she noticed that Rachel happened to be swimming in a rather form-fitting one-piece swimsuit, which did not leave much to the imagination. She smirked.

"Is she really that attractive?" Tara questioned, throwing a kick at Fiona's head, which was easily dodged.

"Who?"

"You know who," Tara smirked again. Fiona blushed. "I mean, I never saw it, but is she really so pretty that you can't even look at her right now?"

Fiona didn't know how to answer the question. It wasn't like she had ever been asked that sort of question before, and she was really quite taken aback.

"Look Tara," Fiona said nervously, as she couldn't help but notice Tara's huge grin of delight from watching Fiona stammer about. "Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean that you can just ask me all of these questions and expect some kind of interesting response. I am a person, you know. I have my own kind of opinions about people, too." But after this, she looked away and sighed. "But yeah, she's really, really, really attractive. Probably one of the most beautiful people in the world."

"Oh," Tara said, with some small satisfaction. "Well, glad that's all out in the open."

"But I don't want to date her, or anything! Or anyone else, for that matter!" Fiona quickly stated, making sure she wasn't misinterpreted. Tara smirked again.

"Are you sure?" Tara asked. "Because I could totally call her over here right now, in her bathing suit, and all." Fiona blushed furiously. "Or maybe, she could give you a nice, big hug, since it'd be so nice for her to dry off on something. You know, since she is soaking wet right now."

By this point, Fiona couldn't take any more humiliating (and mostly effective) teasing. So, she began swinging at Tara again, breaking off her spew of mental images as she was forced to dodge punches. While the two were now fighting on one end of the training facility, along with the rest of the girls, the other end was only filled with one soul. Although Dash didn't mind being alone. She welcomed it. It gave her time to think, while also pushing her to do her hardest. She was currently beating on a sandbag, quickly striking it with a quick, unrivaled fury. Occasionally, she would look over and see the others, chatting away, laughing, and wasting their time getting to know each other. Dash couldn't believe it. She couldn't understand why everyone was so eager to become friends with everyone else. Sure, she had some form of friendship with Pinky, and she didn't mind talking to AJ on occasion, primarily because the former didn't mind the things Dash usually said, and AJ sometimes told stories of her past missions, which sparked the adventuring need inside of Dash's chest. But she didn't have any long term emotional attachments, because she knew that in doing what she did, there was a strong chance that someone was going to die. And she knew that when someone did finally get gunned down, she would be the only one staying calm enough to properly take charge of the situation. That was a problem she had with Tara's leadership.

In fact, it was one of many problems that Dash had with Tara's leadership. Although she had to admit that the raid on Discord's base was rather successful, she felt like Tara had made some of the worst decisions she had ever seen anyone do under the title of "leader". Some of it was nitpicking, like how Tara never bothered using a gun in battle. To Dash, it seemed like a surefire way to get killed. But so far, it had not interfered much. Besides, Fiona didn't even kill her opponents, and she was turning out to be one of the most capable fighters on the team. But, there were clear problems in Tara's decision making also. Like, for example, not taking the most experienced soldier of the group into the base of one of the most dangerous crime syndicates on the planet. Or, making her own soldiers walk around a town that they didn't know in the middle of the night, all while a psychopathic murderer was on the loose. All of it just bugged Dash, and after just two weeks, she felt like she was going to lose it. She felt like she need to enforce some change into the ranks, before Tara decided to start a suicide mission and choose Dash as the operative who has to trigger the bomb while everyone else escapes.

It was around eleven when Wilson called for the girls to be brought to the Briefing Room. By this time, Dash had pushed each piece of gym equipment to its limit, Pinky had thoroughly depleted about one third of the available ammunition, and, much to Fiona's relief, Rachel had stopped swimming, and was now wearing some decent clothing. When they arrived at the Briefing Room, they were greeted with a bright smile from Wilson, and a somewhat less cheery, yet equally delighted smile from Celestia.

"Wonderful news, ladies," The General proudly stated. "Due to your recent efforts, we have decided to let you have the rest of the day free from any new mission assignments." This news was met with incredibly positive reception, as the girls jumped for joy at their first true break from combat in two weeks. However, Tara wasn't happy, instead somewhat confused at Wilson's decision.

"Why are you doing that?" Tara asked. "I mean, shouldn't we be doing something? Anything at all?"

"There is nothing to do, Tara," Celestia said with certainty. "The Smiling Dragons haven't been seen in days. Their criminal activity is at a record low. And Philadelphia is experiencing one of the least violent weeks in seven years."

"But there's still so much we don't know," Tara reasoned. "What about The Beast? We still don't know anything about him. What if there are more people like him out there? And we still don't have any information on The Unknown. We don't even know if there is an Unknown. What if The Beast is working with him? What if-"

"Tara, please calm yourself," Wilson strongly stated. "We are putting all of our research staff into this Beast dilemma. Of course, we are considering a possible connection with Discord. But there is no information on him anywhere. We can't explain his bizarre condition, but if what he said is true, then he really won't be much of a problem. As for The Unknown," he paused. "There is nothing stating that this bit of information is true. We've been meaning to tell you; we have no information of this person or group. More than likely, it was just the insane ramblings of a madman."

Tara looked to Celestia to support, but the woman was simply staring at the ground, letting Wilson speak. Tara knew that Celestia had her own beliefs about the terrorist threat that faced them; she had heard them herself. But it appeared that Celestia was unwilling to speak. Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind her.

"Spark, their giving us a fucking vacation," she heard Dash say. "Just stop PMSing for once and have some fun, will you?" Tara groaned, trying not to let Dash's comment bug her.

"Alright," Tara finally said. "I guess we'll have to find something to occupy ourselves for rest of the day."

"Actually, Tara," Rachel spoke up with a happy smile. "I believe I know where we can start, at the very least."

"Excellent," Wilson stated. "You are dismissed." The girls left the room peacefully, but Tara noticed how distracted Celestia seemed to be. Although she did not say anything, Tara was quite certain that Celestia had objected to Wilson's idea of a break for the same reason Tara did. It gave Tara some comfort knowing that Celestia supported her, but it still did not help that they were taking a break when they both knew that there was so much work to be done. But perhaps it was something to worry about later, as they now were stepping outside, and Rachel led them onwards.

__________

"So why did you drag us here?" Dash asked in her boredom. The six of them were currently seated in a diner not far from Camelot, which Rachel was very happy for remembering the name of. "And why did you order for us?"

"Because you would have picked the wrong thing," Rachel stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"But you ordered us all burgers," Fiona mentioned. "And I'm a vegetarian. So, what will I eat?"

"Eat the fries," AJ told her. "They were pretty damn good."

"Wait," Dash said in questioning. "You're a vegetarian? Why? It's not like the fucking cows won't be killed anyway."

"I don't feel comfortable about it," Fiona simply said. Rachel felt sorry for her friend.

"Well, you're going to regret that life choice in about fifteen minutes," Rachel said smugly. Tara interjected.

"Rachel, a few things," Tara started to say. "First of all, when did you ever get to actually try the burger from this place, anyway?" Rachel blushed at the comment, remembering that she had never actually told Tara that she had eaten part of her friend's meal.

"Um… funny story about that bit, actually…"

Tara sighed.

"I thought so. Second question: What if it's not as good as you remember? What if you were just so hungry that anything would have tasted good to you?" Rachel gasped, as if Tara was saying something entirely sacrilegious.

"It better not be," Rachel said in defense. "That was the kind of food that made me wish I moved to America about ten years ago. And last I remember, I didn't make mistakes when it came to good taste. I'm me. So as far as you should be concerned, this is the best bloody cheeseburger in the entire goddamn world. You're lucky I even took you to this place. I could have kept this little treasure trove to myself."

"Jeez, you didn't have to come off as such a bitch about it," Dash muttered under her breath. But Rachel picked up on the comment, and she quickly turned to the rainbow-haired girl.

"And you don't always have to insult people about every little fuck up they do," Rachel spat back. Soon, the conversation turned rather aggressive, and Tara noticed that the girls were starting to attract attention from other people in the restaurant, which unfortunately was quite full.

"Girls, can you quiet down?" Tara asked. "You're kind of disturbing the peace." Rachel and Dash managed to restrain themselves, and they tried their best to remain quiet until the food came. The next few minutes were filled with small conversations, as the girls spoke of modest subjects. That was until Pinky decided to actively join the conversation, which then took off to become a series of long, mostly imaginary stories that Pinky experienced in her childhood. She was just finishing her story about the time that she thought she saw a Sasquatch, when the food finally arrived. Six cheeseburgers, maxed out with toppings and condiments, were slid in front of the girls for their eating pleasure. While Fiona subtly pushed her food away from herself, trying her best to ignore the intoxicating smell of the beef patty, the other girls cautiously picked up the burger, and took a bite. And immediately, they were greeted with an astounding taste that made them moan in delight.

"Okay," Tara said in defeat. "That is really good."

"Yeah," Dash managed to say through a mouthful of food. "I hate to admit it, but you're actually right about something."

"Normally, I'd be offended by something like that," Rachel said. "But honestly, I really don't care right now. Oh God, that's good!"

"This…" said Pinky, staring at her food, unable to formulate words to describe what lay before her. "This is the greatest thing I have ever eaten in my whole life."

"Um, Pinky…"

"I must sing songs of praise to it. It must be shown the most cordial respect in the universe," Pinky said, as if in a trance. "Is this what it feels like to be in love?"

"Pinky, it's a sandwich," AJ said calmly, taking her leisurely time eating the burger. Pinky was stunned by the comment.

"No! It is the sandwich!" Pinky said, holding the burger close to her heart. Fiona handed her cheeseburger over to Pinky.

"Take mine then," Fiona offered. "I don't really have much of a use for it anyway."

"You can show it compassion!" Pinky shouted towards the shy girl. She took the other burger, and was now holding to separate sandwiches and caring for them as if they were her own children. She whispered lovingly to the patties. "There, there. The big meany Fiona can't hurt your feelings any more. You're safe with me." Pinky was so caught up in her deep love for grilled meat, that she completely ignored the stares she was receiving from her friends.

"So…why do we hang out with Pinky again?" Dash asked. As the stares around Pinky diminished, Rachel began to tell her plan for how the rest of the day should be spent.

"Next, we go to the nearest fashion store and shop our hearts out," she said enthusiastically. "Then, of course, there are the spa treatments, the late night gatherings, the boys we could meet here."

"Look, Germain," Dash spoke, unimpressed. She took another large bite of her burger. "I don't know what you used to do in that fucking island of yours, but count me out of it. There isn't a chance in Hell that I would be involved in that shit. I'd rather die than be a part of it."

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Shouted a voice from the entrance of the restaurant. The girls looked over, and saw a very familiar man standing at the door. His black suit was pinstriped with white, and his black fedora was crooked on his head. But his face paint was exactly the same as Tara had remembered, yellow and black twisted into a sadistic grin. Two men were standing next to him, each holding assault rifles. And in horrible memory, Tara froze.

"THIS IS A FUCKING HOSTAGE SITUATION!"

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG

The two men did not fire into the crowd of people, but instead opened fire in the air, causing the innocents to hide under the table in fear. Discord proudly walked around the restaurant, as two more men came in, carrying two large sacks.

"Now, nobody be alarmed," Discord said. "There is nothing to fear from us. Everyone, just remain calm. We have a little bit of business to attend to. We are quite the hospitable folk, you see. Now, my buddy Franco here is going to come around to each of your tables and collect your cell phones and/or mobile devices." As Discord spoke, one of the men ran about the restaurant, as people placed their cell phones into the empty sack. Immediately after this, a second man walked up to the people, reached into the bag, and pulled out two one-hundred dollar bills to place on the tables.

"As compensation for this inconvenience, we members from the Smiling Dragons are going to pay for your meals today," Discord said proudly. "Please, continue eating! I have some business to attend to…" Discord looked around the diner, before spotting the table at which the girls were sitting. He slowly walked towards them, grinning what looked like a smile of comfort. "There they are! There! They! Are!"

He began slowly clapping, as he reached their table. He looked around him, as if asking for the other diners to join in his deranged applause.

"Do you know how long I've been tracking you guys down?" Discord asked the girls. They didn't move, unsure of how to react to the psychopath's bizarre behavior. He pulled up an empty chair, and sat down at the table. "My men have been hunting you down for an eternity. I'm ever so glad to see you again. Please, don't let me interrupt your dining. Eat." Discord spoke with an utmost pleasantness that shook Tara to her core. It was the way he spoke, the way he looked at them with such negligence, as if he were a god, and they were simply little children. He acted like he was invincible, which, as Tara soon realized, he practically was. Even if she wasn't frozen in fear, and she tried to do something, she couldn't. She was surrounded by armed goons, who didn't look like they would be so easily scared off as the others. As the girls silently contemplated their next actions, Pinky took another bite of her burger, receiving glares from her teammates.

"What?" Pinky asked through a mouthful of beef. "He said eat. Besides, it's a good burger."

"Good, I like you," Discord said to Pinky, winking. "Now, on to business. The last time I saw you girls was, well, when you blew up my drug operation. Literally. Do you know how much money you cost me? How many hired idiots you blew away? Granted, they were nothin' more than ass-wiping, cock-jerking pricks, but still, I wasted good money on them. Not to mention, I smuggled enough meth to put Walter White to shame. I had a good thing going. And then, you attacked me. That is not very nice."

"So, what are you going to do? Kill us?" AJ asked fearfully. She always had a gun on her, and she was fairly certain that Dash had one as well, but she didn't have the time to take a shot. She noticed Discord was starting to let some of his anger out, his smile starting to fade.

"Normally, I would," Discord said, honestly. "Trust me, I love nothing more than taking extreme pleasure in the deaths of innocent people. And typically, I would make you fuckers play Russian Roulette with each other until you blow each other's heads off. But see, you destroyed my base of operations. You cost me roughly thirty million dollars. So I brought in the cavalry."

He stood up from the table, and looked out the window closest to the group. "See, I got this specialized unit of troops scattered throughout the city. I call them Hound Dogs. See, I don't just want to kill you. I want you to be fucking scared shitless. I want to see you run and beg for your lives before someone puts a bullet through your brain. And I don't think I can properly encompass that feeling by sitting here, and slowly executing you." Discord motioned for the girls to stand up. They cautiously did, not wishing to anger the man who was holding them at gunpoint. They walked to the entrance of the restaurant, and Discord motioned for them to stand outside.

"So, here's what's going to happen," Discord said proudly. "I'm going to give you sixty seconds. After that, I am going to order my men to try to kill and/or capture and torture you. Either or. So, I best recommend that you run as far away from here as possible. Got it? Good."

"What is he doing?" Rachel whispered to Tara, noticing that her friend was deathly afraid.

"I… I think he's going to hunt us," Tara whispered fearfully. "Like wild animals."

"Sixty seconds starts now!" Discord shouted, interrupting Tara's words. She paused for a moment, thinking of what to do. She knew that she would be shot dead before any of them could try to shoot Discord. That much was clear. She regretted not having her sword with her. She couldn't do much with it, but she would have felt much safer knowing that she had a weapon.

"So, Spark," Dash asked Tara. "What's your master plan for getting out of this one?"

There was no reply. She looked behind her, and saw that Tara, leading the rest of the group, had bolted off in the opposite direction, accidentally leaving Dash standing alone in front of Discord.

Motherfucker, thought Dash angrily, before she took off after her teammates.

Discord sighed at his good work, happy that the girls were already panicking before even ten seconds had passed. He calmly walked back into the restaurant, and looked around at ll of the nervous occupants. One of his men walked up to him for orders.

"Okay, Billy," Discord said with a grin. "Make sure to tell the Dogs that the bitches have scattered, and now it's time to go ape-shit on 'em." He paused for a moment, before adding, "Oh, and waste these fuckers, will ya?"

The man nodded, and within three seconds, gunfire rang throughout the diner, as people collapsed to the ground in pools of blood. Happy with his work, Discord walked to the table where the girls were previously sitting. Surrounded by the chaos and screams of innocent civilians dying, he picked up the remains of one of the burgers that used to belong to Pinky, and took a bite.

Oh, Discord thought as he heard women and children beg for their lives. That is good.

__________

As Tara rounded another corner, Dash finally managed to tackle her to the ground. The other girls managed to stop in their tracks, as Tara rose in anger and confusion.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Tara shouted. She brushed herself off as Dash replied in equal frustration.

"What is wrong with you?!" Dash yelled. "A maniac tells us we have sixty seconds to live, and you just fucking run away?! Did you even notice you left me behind?! What are you thinking?!" Tara felt rather paranoid at this time, mostly ignoring Dash's rage and constantly looking around her for signs of trouble. Meanwhile, Dash had started to complain to the other girls, saying how she couldn't believe that everyone had simply followed along with Tara's outrageous behavior.

"Look, we've learned it's better to trust Tara's ideas than not to," Rachel said. "Honestly, I think she has a good plan she's waiting to tell us right now."

However, AJ was not as convinced. While at first, she thought Tara did have some form of strategy ready, now that she saw the terrified look in her friend's eyes, she believed that Tara was not using rational thought, but rather pure instinct to guide her. In fact, she wasn't even responding to Fiona's current attempt to ask for information, instead, she was sifting her weight uncomfortably to stay light on her feet.

"Um, Tara, you do have a plan," AJ tried to confirm. "Right?"

"Um…" Tara tried to think. She had to focus; it was the only way to survive. So then why was it so hard for her to concentrate? Surely when she was in a life threatening situation, she would be the most rational. But she couldn't stop thinking about the shooting at Ymerton, the feeling of dread that told her she was being hunted at every turn. A sense of terror was taking control over her, and she felt nothing but irrational fear. "We… we have to..."

"Okay, fuck that bullshit," Dash said. "I got an idea: Why don't we run back to Camelot, get some fucking guns, and take these bastards head on?"

"No, that… that won't work," Tara said, starting to calm down. "If we are being hunted, the last thing we want to do is make Discord learn the location of our base. Besides, we'd never make it."

"Okay, so what do we do?" Pinky asked frantically. It seemed like Tara's panicked behavior was rubbing off onto her, and the last thing Tara needed was more panic in the ranks.

"I… I don't know," Tara said honestly. "Give me a minute to think."

"We don't have a minute to think!" Pinky yelled out in a crazed state. "Everyone is freaking out, and I can't take it anymore! All I wanted to do with my life is take care of my nice little burger children, and move to Japan, and fight Godzilla like my great ancestors did! But now it's ruined! It's all ruined!"

"Pinky, calm down!" Rachel shouted at her friend, who was acting more off-the-wall than usual. "We don't have time for you t-… wait, you're Japanese?!"

Suddenly, AJ heard a rustling coming from about twenty feet back. It wasn't much, just a small little amount of movement of someone realigning themselves. With quick realization, she did the first thing that came to her mind. Her training kicking in, she pulled out her gun, turned around, and fired three shots.

And the civilian who made the rustling jumped back as the bullets nearly struck him in the legs.

"What the fuck, lady!" he shouted in anger, before walking away. AJ felt an incredible sense of embarrassment rush over her, as her gunshots ended the conversation they were having, and stared at AJ, who was fuming.

"Jesus, AJ, show some fucking self-restraint," Dash said. Unfortunately for AJ, she had attracted all of the attention towards herself, which meant that no one noticed that a man in full body armor was kneeling down at the other end of the street. A sniper rifle in his hand, he lined up his sights with AJ's head, steadied himself, and slowly pulled the trigger.

But alas, another bystander happened to be jogging down the street at this time, late for an important meeting. In his haste, he lost his footing, and collapsed onto the criminal, causing him to lose his accuracy, and shoot past AJ's head. The girls became alerted to the man's presence, and bolted off into a nearby alleyway. The criminal recovered, and in his anger, he attempted to shoot the man who had hit him. But he had already recovered and was running away, and the Hound Dogs had much more important task at hand. He pressed his hand to his ear, triggering his earpiece, and he alerted the rest of his unit to the girls' location.

As they ran through the alley ways, AJ kept her gun at the ready on the likely chance that more soldiers would show up. Dash handed her own weapon to Pinky, in hopes that she would maintain higher accuracy, despite the fact that rage was building up inside of her, and Dash wanted desperately to shoot someone in the face. Tara was struggling to come up with any viable options of escape.

She reevaluated her situation. She was being hunted throughout the entire city by madmen. Discord had said that they would not stop until the P.O.N.Y's were either dead or captured, and neither option suited well for her. Right now, the only thing that she could think of was to keep running, and hope that the Hound Dogs lost track of her. But if Discord was to be believed, then there was no where she would be safe, not even back at Camelot. She wished she had a map of the area, just so she could know where she was headed.

The girls exited the alley, and came to a crowded street area. Many people were bustling about this place, meaning that the Hound Dogs could be located anywhere. Rachel pulled out her phone, and quickly pulled up a map of the area.

"Okay, we are…" Rachel said, triggering her GPS system. According to this, we are about roughly three miles from the nearest gun store. If my knowledge of the American measuring system is correct, that's not very far. I recommend we head there for safety."

"We might not last three miles," Tara quickly said. Her words began flowing much faster and more panicked. "Anything else nearby?"

"You mean a place where we can hide? Dozens," Rachel said. "But we have limited firepower, and if they find us-"

"We die, I know," Tara finished. "But is there anywhere that contains something we can use as weapons. Lumber stores, car dealerships, even any buildings with high security?"

"Not that I can see," Rachel said, scrolling through her phone. Suddenly, more gunshots rang out, sending panic through the streets. The girls ducked and ran for cover, finding their help in the form of a parked bus. They hid behind it as the Hound Dogs started to swarm in on their position. Tara thought of a way out of her predicament. She leaned out of cover to survey the environment. She was able to see five men, each with rifles and customized body armor, painted with dog imprints to show their capability as elite fighters. However, she had to quickly duck back into cover to avoid the bullets whizzing past her skull.

"We need to get out of here!" Tara exclaimed. Fiona, who had been following Tara till this point, decided to take some initiative. She stood up, and ran to the door of the bus. The vehicle was deserted at this time, meaning that no one could open the locked bus. But Fiona started kicking the door, trying to break in the door. After several frustrated kicks simply bounced off of the glass, she decided to snatch the gun out of Pinky's hand, and shot through the glass, breaking the door apart. The kickback sent her wrist cracking back. She screamed, and clutched her wounded wrist as she dropped the gun to the floor. AJ picked up the second gun, grabbed onto Fiona, and guided the both of them through the shattered door, making sure to avoid cutting themselves. The rest of the girls filed into the vehicle.

They quickly sat down, as Dash took Rachel's phone and went to the driver's seat, and started to hotwire the bus. As crucial seconds ticked away, AJ started to take a look at Fiona's hand. It seemed like she might have broken the wrist from the kickback, or at least something bad enough to nearly bring Fiona to tears (which AJ considered might be easier than not). Dash finally managed to start the bus, and slammed on the gas. The bus lurched forward as bullets bounced off of its side. AJ tossed her spare gun back to Pinky, who now leaned out the window and started shooting back at the Hound Dogs. Most shots bounced off of their armor, yet one bullet managed to penetrate through a weak point on the neck, passing straight through the man's jugular.

It was rather unfortunate that Dash didn't know how to drive the bus. She constantly crashed into things, and while attempting to make a sharp turn, she nearly flipped the vehicle over on its side. She had once heard that a special license was needed to drive a large truck or bus. She supposed that this meant she was committing a crime, but she didn't really care. After all, it wasn't her first time breaking the law, and she had far more pressing matters at hand. She tried her best to navigate the narrow streets, making sure she didn't hit any cars traveling past her. Pinky kept a watchful eye behind her, making sure she didn't see any cars tailing them. Whenever she did see someone start to follow the bus, she immediately shot out the tires, or if they were on foot, took a quick shot to their head or legs. It wasn't a very steady ride for the girls, however. They were constantly were thrown around in their seats due to Dash's driving, and they slammed into each other and the seats themselves. Pinky was rammed into the windows at such frequency that she nearly dropped her gun several times in her attempt to stay balanced. Finally, after what seemed like hours of maneuvering, Dash finally reached the gun store.

Placed on the corner of a busy intersection, Johnny's Rifle Shop was a modest weapons dealer, selling fancy guns for rather cheap prices. Dash managed to park the car next to the shop (although she nearly crashed into three cars and a fire hydrant). The girls quickly exited the bus, and made their way into the store. The store was rather small, its only key features being a counter, a large rack of weaponry, and a small side exit, used for emergencies. The store was relatively empty, save for the man behind the counter. He dressed modestly, in a green button-up shirt and cargo pants. He had a rather chubby midsection, and big arms, covered in hair. He seemed rather chipper and acted in a rather friendly manner when six teenage girls entered his store in a frenzy, shutting the door quickly behind them.

"Hello, welcome to Johnny's Gun Shop," he spoke. "What can I get you today?" AJ walked up to him, and pulled out a card of identification she kept in her back pocket. She showed it to the man, and his face went white.

"I'm with the Federal Government," AJ stated with authority. "I'm going to need you to get out of this store. Now." The man, not wanting to mess with someone from who could possibly shut down his entire business, shuffled out of behind the counter, and moved out of the store.

"And get as far away from here as possible," she yelled, shutting the door behind him. With haste, the girls got to work, taking guns off of the shelf, and examining the place for anything they could use to make a stand. Plenty of shotguns and machine guns were available, as well as several powerful grenades, which AJ knew were illegal to sell.

"No wonder this guy wanted to comply," AJ muttered to herself as she stocked up on ammo. Unfortunately, there was not much she could do to help Tara and Fiona, who would refuse to use the firearms. Rachel was vastly improving with her aim, but she was still ill-adept at hitting a moving target. Dash and Pinky were much more helpful in this case, but still, there was the immediate problem of not knowing how many people the Hound Dog unit consisted of.

"Okay, here's the plan," Tara said. "We'll have layers of defense. Rachel, Dash, get outside by the bus, and take out what you can. AJ, Pinky, stay behind this door, while Fiona and I will get behind the counter. If you're getting overwhelmed, fall back. If all goes well, we should be able to take them down before we get outmatched.

"And if they push us back too far?" Fiona nervously asked.

"Then we make use the grenades and blow this place. We get out through the side entrance, make a run for it," Tara explained. "That's the best I got right now."

It was with mutual understanding that the girls took their positions. Dash and AJ got outside, and knelt down behind the bus. Rachel peered around the corner. She saw roughly a dozen men approaching from one hundred meters away. The people scattered as they sprinted through the streets heading towards the bus. At the doorway, AJ and Pinky took their positions as well, resting against the door frame with machine guns at the ready. The bus was parked just to the left of the doorway, allowing for a nearly perfect line of sight from the girls to the Hound Dogs. Tara was waiting for the perfect moment to order the attack, letting the targets get just close enough to maintain high accuracy. They just had to run a few more meters, and then the stars would align, and they would be easy pickings. But then Dash decided to take initiative. There was no real good reason to do it, but she believed that she saw an opportunity, and being the instinctive person that she was, she took a chance.

Following her namesake, she dashed out from the cover of the bus, shooting at the Hound Dogs while she sprinted to the cover of a nearby car. It was much smaller than the bus, and was not as sturdy, but she figured that it would support her rather nicely. Some of the shots she fired managed to find a target, wounding two of the men, and barely killing one. But this alerted the men to their position, and they immediately opened fire on the vehicles. The element of surprise gone, AJ, Pinky, and Rachel started to fire also, much to the ire of Tara. Fiona covered her ears as best as she could with one hand, cringing from the sound of so much gunfire.

"Were they supposed to do that?!" she asked over the gunfire. Tara groaned.

"No, I don't know what's happening!" Tara yelled back. Meanwhile, Dash had managed to attract most of the attention away from the others, allowing Pinky and AJ to fire some easy shots upon the soldiers. Rachel helped as well, though not as she intentioned. She was given a shotgun to protect herself, as AJ knew that she could not shoot well from a long range, so she was given something to accommodate for that disadvantage. And since the soldiers had now become aware of this fact, they made sue to keep their range, not wanting to avoid being shot by an "expert" at close range. This stopped their advances rater efficiently, giving the girls more time to fire. Dash began firing again, now causing damage on two fronts. More troops fell, and soon, the incoming troops had dissipated by half. Though it was not according to plan, the girls were standing their ground rather well, and AJ actually started to believe in their odds.

And then, reinforcements showed up.

A large bus pulled up about fifty yards away, and roughly twenty more soldiers poured out of it. Without a second thought, they charged at the gun shop, firing their rifles with little care for what they were hitting. AJ tried firing at them, but despite how many men she took down, their charge never weakened, and they became even more aggressive. And it wasn't just AJ who noticed this. Dash now realized what a strategic disadvantage she had. She was all by herself, far away from her point of retreat, facing an incoming horde of better equipped soldiers. It was actually quite the predicament. She was faced with a brief, yet important choice: run or fight. If she fought, her pride would be saved. But if she ran, her life would be saved. Most likely. There was still the chance that she would be shot running back into the store, as there was no cover between her and her target, not to mention, the Hound Dogs grew closer with every second. But she liked her chances of going toe-to-toe with fifty men even less. Hoping that she really was the fastest woman alive, she took a chance and sprinted towards the entrance to the shop. Bullets flew by her, and she barely managed to dive through the doors to the store without getting hit. So, as it turned out, her pride would be saved after all. Rachel followed her behavior, and quickly ran to the safety of the shop. AJ slammed the door shut, and promptly locked it, hoping to buy the girls some extra time.

"Okay, that was a failure," Rachel said unenthusiastically. Tara stood up from behind the counter which she was hiding behind, her face red with rage.

"What the hell was that?" Tara demanded.

"I saw an opportunity, and I took it," Dash explained, showing no real sense of regret.

"You could have killed us all!" Tara screamed at her.

"Ladies, we aint gonna live anyway if don't think of a way out of here!" AJ interrupted.

"Okay," said Tara trying to calm down. "We go with Plan B. We are going to need to trigger as many explosives as possible. We leave through the side exit, and hope it takes us to somewhere safe, and that the grenades keep them from chasing us."

"Wait," said AJ, thinking deeply. "What if it doesn't work?"

"It has to work," Rachel reasoned. AJ shook her head. The plan just didn't sound right to her. Not only was it likely that the exit wouldn't take them any further than the next street over, but it was also quite possible the explosions could hurt themselves. Or, there was the chance that they could easily be followed. It didn't feel like the right thing to do.

"If this fails, which is likely," AJ said. "Then they will just gun us down on the spot. But if one of stays behind and covers the others, then it is more likely you could have a chance to escape."

Tara processed this for a moment, before she understood what AJ was recommending. Her eyes went wide.

"No way," Tara said. "There is no way you are getting left behind."

"Tara, I can hold them off," AJ reasoned.

"They'll kill you!"

"Tara, I'd probably die anyway," AJ spoke back with fierce determination. "You can get away while I take the head on. I've faced much worse threats by myself before."

"But…" Tara tried to argue with her.

"Tara, if we blow this place up, we'll probably die in the explosion. And if not, then they'll probably capture and torture y'all for information. If all goes well for me, I can buy you ladies enough time to get back to Camelot, and I can eliminate part of the threat. If they know what I'm worth, then they'll take me alive, or at least attempt it." Tara heard loud banging on the door, and knew that her time was short. She considered her options very carefully, and then nodded towards AJ.

"Good luck," Tara simply said. She moved towards the side exit, and opened it. An alley way was revealed to her, leading to the next street over. She instructed the girls to follow her, which was met with much shock.

"Tara, you can't seriously be leaving her behind," Rachel questioned.

"She'll be alright," Tara told her, trying to show some confidence. Begrudgingly, the girls followed Tara outside into the alley.

__________

The troops had banged on the door five times, and were starting to feel it budge. By this point, they had put away their guns and pulled out long machetes, a specialty of being part of the Hound Dogs. They knew that the girls were trapped inside the building, and could do nothing to get away from them. Just as they felt they were going to barge in the ladies, they heard the door unlock. It actually startled them a bit. They quickly backed away from the door, and formed a variation of a phalanx, their long blades at the ready. The door then slowly started to open, and made a small crack between the shop and the doorframe. One of the soldiers broke formation, and slowly approached the door. He cautiously pushed it open, seeing if anyone was inside. But he saw no one, just an empty gun shop. He took another step forward, and then a shotgun blast blew his head off.

AJ rolled out of her cover, and made an attack on the phalanx. The Hound Dogs tried to recover their formation, but it was already too late. AJ had rolled into the group, sweeping the legs of two enemies, sending them to the ground. She stood up, as other members back away from her. She pulled up her shotgun again, shooting two men simultaneously, and while the armor saved one man, the other was struck in the neck, and the force of the blast knocked them over as well. One man tried to charge AJ with his machete, but she dodged, successfully grabbing his wrist and disarming him of his weapon. She impaled the man with his own sword, as three new men came to take his place. They surrounded her in a triangle pattern, and they all moved at once. One man took a high swing, but AJ ducked, causing him to cut off the head of one of the other Hound Dogs. While crouched, AJ strongly kicked the third man in the knee, breaking his leg. As he fell to the ground, AJ rose up, grabbing onto his body and using him as a human shield. The first soldier took another swing at her, but his sword became lodged in his ally's neck, as AJ brought him down with another shotgun blast. She threw both men to the ground, and shot another soldier who was running at her. A line of four men approached her, but instead of running, AJ sprinted at them. She ducked the first man's swing, punching him in the gut. She pushed him back into the second man, before slicing both of their heads off at once. For the third man, AJ hit him in the side of her head with her shotgun, before hitting him again in his leg. She moved past his body, and started dodging the swings by the fourth man. She dropped her gun and sword, and grabbed onto the man's arm. She moved behind his back, kneeing his elbow in the process, breaking it. She quickly placed both of her hands on the sides of his head, and snapped his neck. As the wounded man tried to crawl away, she picked up her machete again, and delivered a fatal stab through his chest. As she looked around her, she saw the other soldiers starting to regroup, and she started to rise to her feet to counterattack. But then she felt a gun being pressed to the back of her head.

"You're gonna want to put that sword down now," she heard Discord speak behind her. She let go of her sword in defeat, and raised her hands in the air. She saw a man run up to Discord, looking very defeated himself.

"Sir, we lost the other agents," he spoke drearily. Discord smirked at him, however.

"Don't worry," he said with a grin. "We got one of 'em. And I think we are going to have to treat this one very specially in order to compensate for our loss." The soldier seemed to understand what Discord was saying.

"Oh, of course," he said, somewhat happier. He then spoke to AJ, "You're going to have a fun night, kid."

Two soldiers picked AJ up, and dragged her to the bus, all while Discord kept his revolver pointed at her head. They put AJ onto their bus, as the rest of the remaining Hound Dogs filed in, before the bus drove off to Discord's new hideout.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord (Divisions)

Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord

Part 2 of 2: Divisions

"Obviously, we are going to have to attempt a rescue mission," Wilson stated. "Agent Balle had years of top-secret knowledge that we can't allow Discord to get his hands on."

"Honestly General, I'm more concerned about how Balle was captured," Celestia stated. She turned to the girls, who had been gathered in the Briefing Room back at Camelot. "Miss Sullivan, why did you decide to leave one of your best agents behind?"

"Well," said Tara, who felt very ashamed of her actions. She knew at the time that it was the right thing to do, but now, under the intense scrutiny of her supervisors, she felt much less confident. Her head hung low as she talked. "It was actually AJ's idea. She sacrificed herself to let us escape."

"You shouldn't have let her go," Wilson told the saddened Tara. "Anna-Jean has been known to have an unfortunate tendency to act upon increasingly dangerous and suicidal maneuvers. In fact, the first time she volunteered for a field mission, she was eleven. We've been trying to for years to fix this problem in her behavior. In any case, you shouldn't have acted upon her ideas. There is a reason you are now the Field Leader, and she isn't."

"Actually, I'm starting to wonder if you are now worthy of such a high position," Celestia spoke honestly to Wilson, not minding if Tara heard.

Tara was quite stunned. Celestia had always shown her support for Tara's capabilities, but now, she was quickly changing her position on the subject.

"Why?" Tara asked in her shock. "So I made a tactical error. One error. And you want to change leadership because of a goof? Everyone made mistakes out there today. Including," Tara said, quickly glancing back at Dash. "The direct disrespect of my orders."

"But you are supposed to be the leader," Celestia said sternly. "If you're not being followed, then clearly, there are some issues of trust amongst your team. You need to work that out by yourselves. The most pressing matter is that Miss Balle is probably being tortured as we speak. She has more knowledge of this organization than any of you combined. If her training fails and she actually talks, then the repercussions would be massive."

"So what was I supposed to do? Let her die?" Tara asked, becoming very frustrated. Celestia did not respond, simply looking away from the angered girl, and taking a deep sigh. Wilson redirected the conversation back to his original point.

"I think that's enough of that for now," he said, clasping his hands together. "What we should be focused on now is trying to get Agent Balle back here alive before too much is lost." He pulled out a small metal device, which held a screen that took up half of the space. "At the very least, we know where she is. Thank government security for that. According to this, she is at the Imperial Chinese Restaurant, which means she is still in the city. You will be sent in there tonight. Entrance strategy is yours to decide, same as always. Try not to get yourselves, or Balle, killed." He stood up, followed by Celestia, and went to leave the room. But one last thought struck him. "Oh, and I strongly recommend a change of leadership. It's still your call, but I think it might be for the best. At least, for this mission."

With that, they left the room, leaving the girls alone. Tara sighed, and leaned against one of the many desks. She had heard from AJ that this room was usually full of people who monitored the missions, keeping track of stats, surveillance feeds, and other things of that nature. But for now, the room was empty, and Tara couldn't feel gladder about it. She felt like a failure. She managed to get herself caught in a no-win situation, and now she was facing the price. She felt an incredible guilt washing over her, as she couldn't help but think of AJ, and all of the horrible things that could be happening to her at that very moment. Fiona tried to comfort her friend, but was shrugged away rather harshly. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, holding the room in a state of despair.

Until one girl spoke the only thought on her mind, breaking the feelings of discontent and sadness.

"So, who's gonna lead now?" Dash asked with no real sadness in her voice. In fact, during most of Wilson's talk, she had been smirking, glad to see Tara brought down to such a low level. She didn't consider herself a mean person, but she felt very happy to see Tara sad. Maybe because she thought Tara thought herself to be on a higher pedestal than the others, or maybe she just couldn't take Tara's smug claims of passion and honesty. Whatever the reason, her own pride skyrocketed, and she wanted to make sure the next few minutes gave her as much joy as physically possible. "I mean, you know who I'm voting for, of course. But I want to know what you guys think."

Tara stopped staring emptily at her own feet, and looked up at Dash. She was feeling horrible about herself at this time, and the last thing she needed was for Dash to get on her nerves.

"Now's really not the time, Dash," Tara said, annoyed.

"Hey, you heard the General," Dash said with a smirk. "He wants a new leader. He doesn't think you're quite up to snuff. I'm just following orders."

"Don't patronize me, Rebecca," Tara said back to her, with no sign of calming down. Fiona quickly glanced at Rachel, who was worrying about the same thing that she was. With wisdom, they both quickly took steps away from Tara and Dash, hoping to avoid the fight that they knew was coming. Rachel also grabbed onto Pinky, who had not yet seen the storm clouds, and dragged her out of the way as well, much to the blonde's annoyance.

"Look, Spark, it's not my fault that you're a failure," Dash said innocently. Tara stopped leaning on the desk, and took an advancing step towards Dash.

"Do you like making people feel like crap?" Tara asked her, her voice lacking emotion. Her bangs were falling in front of her eyes, but she didn't care. She was getting fed up with Dash's constant backtalk.

"When it's you, then fuck yeah," Dash spoke honestly, not feeling the least bit intimidated. "I only talk the way I do to prove a fucking point."

"And what is that point?" Tara asked coldly. She took another step towards Dash.

"That you're not nearly as fucking perfect as your delusional mind thinks you are," Dash smirked. "That you're pathetic; that you have so many deep social issues that you can't see that how fucking badly you treat people."

"At least people like me," Tara said coldly. The words came out as harsh and smug, like she was trying to be cruel. Fiona tried to intervene.

"Um, Tara, that sounded a little-" Fiona started to say, but was cut off when Tara turned and gave her a cold glare.

"Stay out of this, Fiona," Tara spoke sternly. Dash laughed.

"Yeah, stay out of this, Fiona," Dash said with a smile. "We can't let your inferior mind fuck up Spark's perfect argument."

"Don't speak to her like that," Tara said angrily.

"Why not? You just did!" Dash spoke back, keeping her smile on her face. She wanted to stay as calm as possible, make sure that Tara lost her cool before she did. "I thought you were supposed to lead by example? Just another reason why you don't deserve to be in charge."

Tara stepped closer to Dash again, now less than a foot away from the girl. Her lack of emotion was transforming itself into anger and frustration, and she was trying her best to stop it.

"I deserve to lead more than you do," Tara said with venom in her voice. "People chose to follow me. They put their faith in me, and I am the one to lead them."

"Yeah, well, people used to follow Hitler too, and we all know how that turned out," Dash argued. "The point is, people make mistakes, and they listen to the wrong people. Idiots have led others for too long, and all it takes is one slip-up for the people to know that they are hearing the wrong words of fucking wisdom."

"So what do you want to do? Throw me out? Adjust me, so I see whatever twisted point of view you see the world from?" Tara questioned. Dash snickered.

"Do you know how I see the world? Do you even know what the fuck you are talking about?" Dash asked with doubt. "You don't know shit about me, Spark."

"But I can take a guess," Tara said, coldly. "See, I've seen the way you act towards others. You don't know a thing about compassion, or kindness, or anything that society wants you to be. All you care about is yourself, and how much you can screw everyone over before your time is up." Dash laughed at this.

"You don't understand shit if that is what you think," Dash said calmly. "I know more about compassion than you ever will."

"Don't lie to yourself, Rebecca," Tara said.

"Come on, Spark," Dash laughed again. "If you're going to intimidate me, find a more threatening insult than my actual name. But seriously, you don't think I know about compassion? At least I wasn't the one who left our friends to be tortured."

"Don't act like that was my fault," Tara tried to argue. But Dash responded quickly and with determination.

"Of course, it's your fault!" Dash exclaimed. "You left her behind! You trapped us into that corner! You failed to come up with a plan to save her, and now, you fucked her over! It's entirely your fault. I may not be the best with plans, but at least I would have never left someone behind!"

"It was her decision!"

"Just because she wanted to be left behind, doesn't make it right!" Dash reasoned. "You see, you do this thing where you blame others for your failures, no matter how much it was actually your fault. It's fucking pathetic."

"And you have the tendency to point out every little flaw in humanity, and exaggerate it to the point of complete and utter futility!" Tara yelled at her. "You don't find any logical problems with people; all you do is pick away at them until they hate themselves for all of the small things that they are not!"

"Are you sure I am the one who you have a problem with, then?" Dash asked her. "I wonder how many times did your parents beat you for not reaching their expectations? How much fucked up shit happened in your childhood to make you so afraid of failing at anything?"

"Don't bring my family into this!" Tara yelled at her. "Don't pretend like everyone has to have as bad as a life as you in order for the world to go around."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dash said angrily, finding that it was much harder to stay calm. "At least you fucking had parents. I'm sorry your life was so fucking horrible, living in a giant fucking house, not worrying about your taxes, not struggling to survive every day because you were given everything from birth."

"You know, maybe that's your problem, Rebecca," Tara said. "You didn't have anything growing up. You just lived your little, insignificant life, watching others pass you by. So, in order to make yourself feel less worthless, you have to bring everyone down to your level. Is that why you hate everyone so badly? Because you're insecure?" Dash growled.

"You're calling me insecure?" Dash asked in disbelief. "Who here can't take criticism? Who here wants to keep us all staying in line as to not fuck up her little plans for the future? That's you, Spark! Everything you do is to raise yourself higher on your own fucking podium, so you can continue to feel like you actually accomplished something while we do the hard work!"

"Shut up…"

"Do you want to know what I think of your life?" Dash spoke angrily. "Here's my fucking guess! You were born as part of a wealthy family, and you were given everything you ever wanted! Each day, you were told how special you were, and all of the fantastic shit you were going to be doing in your perfect fucking future! But first, you had to live up to your parents' hope before you could be great!"

"Shut up…"

"So you work tirelessly, making sure everything in your life is perfect so you don't disappoint the only people who could ever love you! You shut everyone out, and build yourself your own little Fortress of Solitude inside your own fucking skull! But it still isn't enough! You try and try, but you need to sacrifice more and more, just so you wouldn't consider yourself a failure in their eyes, because after pushing everything else away, that's all you have left!

"Stop talking…"

"And so you become an empty shell, devoid of emotion towards other people! If something goes wrong, it's not because of you. It can't be! You worked too hard to make sure that doesn't happen! So you get them out of the equation, so that you can go back to being the queen of the fucking universe! You refuse to listen to anyone, because you can't afford to hear that you failed once again!"

"Just. Be. Quiet."

"You think you are so much better than me, Spark! But we aren't that fucking different after all! You talk about me having no emotion, not caring about anyone other than myself, and how I refuse to get close to people! But you know what, you filthy, disgraceful, hypocritical, dishonest cunt?! There's one big difference between you and me! I may not fully care about what happens to others, but at least I don't pretend that I do!"

Tara had heard enough. She was absolutely furious. In her rage, she pushed herself right up against Dash, their foreheads pressed together, as Tara stared angrily into Dash's eyes. Her fists were clenched, her teeth gritted together, and, since she was a good two inches taller than Dash, she leaned into the other girl, almost ready to punch her in the face.

"How dare you?!" Tara shouted at her. "How dare you even make that comparison?! I am nothing like you! You are the most uncaring, cruel, emotionless person I have ever met! I can't believe anyone here would ever like you! The only reason why you are still here is because Wilson wants your skills, but aside from that, you're worthless!"

"Then what are you going to do about it, Spark?" Dash taunted her. She was also losing her temper, and she wouldn't mind if Tara started a fight with her right now, just so she could hit the smug girl in the face. "Hit me. I fucking dare you. Or are you both a rotten bitch and a coward?"

"That's enough!" shouted Rachel, who was now pushing the girls apart from each other. She had grown tired of hearing them argue, and she needed to stop them before they killed each other. "You two need some time apart! We are not supposed to be fighting each other! Calm down!"

Rachel held each girl apart at the chest, keeping them about a few feet away from each other. Tara was panting, trying to vent out all of her frustration. Dash took a few deep breaths, and then smiled. She smiled smugly at Tara, and then at Rachel.

And then, at lightning speed, she shot out her fist and punched Tara hard in the jaw. Tara collapsed to the ground and clutched her wounded face, as the other girls joined in to push Dash away from the girl on the ground.

"You like that, you fucking cunt?!" Dash shouted at her, taunting her.

Tara looked up at Dash, who was being pushed back against the wall. Tara slowly rose to her feet, and then, with no warning, charged into the pile and tackled Dash to ground. She could no longer contain her anger, as she released a series of punches towards Dash, hoping anything would hit the girl. Dash tried blocking, and threw some elbows of her own at Tara's face. The two rolled on the ground, trying to strike any flesh of their opponent. While the term "catfight" would normally be applied to a battle between two women, Tara and Dash could be considered anything but sexy. The blows they delivered to each other were intense, each impact drawing blood. Finally, after sixty painful seconds, the others were able to pull them apart. Fiona held back Tara, as Rachel and Pinky led Dash out of the room. Dash had several bruises around her eyes and a split lip, and she cursed Tara out as she was dragged out of the room.

"Fucking bitch! I hope you're fucking proud of yourself, you little attention whore! I hope you get fucking raped in your sleep, you fucking cocksu-" Dash was cut off by the door slamming in front of her, leaving Fiona and Tara alone. Fiona pushed Tara away from the door, and forced her to sit on the desk. Tara was breathing heavily, as her body shook with rage. She looked at her feet, because she felt like if she didn't watch them, they would carry her back to the fight. Fiona saw that Tara had a bloody nose, and several cuts along her cheeks and chin. She did her best to calm her friend down.

"She's not worth your time, Tara," Fiona spoke in a very calm manner. "She's gone now. It's okay. Think calm thoughts."

"Fiona," Tara said shakily through her rough breaths. "No one deserves to be spoken to like that." Fiona nodded.

"I know. I know," Fiona said, recalling Dash's words. She shuddered when thinking of such horrible things, especially Dash's last few comments. It made her feel disgusted. "Just stay calm. We're here for you. You know that right?"

Tara paused for a moment, before sighing and slowly nodding.

"Yeah, I… I know," Tara said, her anger slowly being replaced with sorrow. Dash's words had stung her deeply, and, while they were horrible and cruel, they weren't entirely false. "Fiona, you know I do care about you guys, right?"

Fiona smiled at her friend.

"Of course," Fiona responded, although she couldn't help of Tara's erratic behavior from a few nights prior. "Of course."

__________

The Imperial Chinese Restaurant was opened in early 2014. The original goal was to introduce more culture to the American eating process. It was very well supported by the community, who even donated money to help its opening. The decor was elegantly designed, and the ingredients were fresh. However, it barely lasted a year, after Americans realized they were not comfortable with the eating of dog legs, boodog, and the occasional balut. So, after it became shut down in March of 2015, the Smiling Dragons that it would be the perfect place to take up residence.

Now, with his main warehouse destroyed, half of his troops dead or deserted, and most of his money gone, Discord was marching around the main dining area on floor one, angrily talking on the phone with his superiors. Two Hound Dogs stood on either side of the room, and two more Hound Dogs stood over AJ, who was sitting on the ground, hands tied behind her to one of the many tables.

"Look, I know you're the boss," Discord said, continuing his pacing. "But let me cut off a finger or two? Clip some skin? Beat on her? Anything?" The person on the phone responded with something that AJ could not make out, and then Discord sighed. "Fine, she'll be left unharmed until the pickup. But do me a favor, will ya? Cut her tongue out. This bitch has quite an extensive vocabulary when she's pissed."

"Fuck off," AJ said with a grin, purposely to bother her captor. Discord hung up the phone and walked up to her.

"So, here's the deal, kid," Discord said as he pulled out his revolver and twirled it on his finger. "In a few hours, my boss is going to stop by here. During which, he'll judge my progress, and see if I'm bein' a good little boy or not. Then, he's going to take you away from here, back to whatever creepy-ass cave he lives in."

"Why?" AJ asked him.

"I don't fucking know," Discord shrugged. "Personally, I think rape. With all of the people I've worked for, it's almost always rape. Or torture. Or sometimes necrophilia. Man, I've worked up with some fucked up people."

Discord reminisced on some memories he had: some of people he killed, some of people that he made kill their families, sometimes of absolutely nothing other than just corpses. He smiled through these thoughts, as AJ quickly capitalized on her chance to gather information.

"What about the people you work for now?" AJ asked. "What are they like?" Discord groaned, and stamped his foot on the ground.

"I hate those fuckers!" Discord shouted. "I fuckin hate 'em. All they ever do is treat me like a fucking kid! Like I got no idea what I'm doin'! 'Discord's a failure' this, or, 'Discord's a failure' that! It's bullshit! I don't see The Unknown doing the shit I do! He never built the world's biggest criminal empire in eight fucking months! I aint never seen him make a million dollars selling meth alone!"

"So he is real," AJ thought aloud. Discord snapped towards her direction.

"Of course he's fucking real!" Discord screamed. "Motherfucker's been putting me down for way too long. But once he sees you," Discord smirked. "Oh, baby, you've been a concern since day one. And when I'm the one to deliver you to him, I'll finally earn my place alongside the others! And then, it'll be chaos all around, baby! Woohoo!"

He jumped for joy, exhilarated by his own sickened thoughts of victory. He was so caught up in the moment, that he didn't even notice AJ's huge grin.

Thanks for the info, AJ thought happily. It seems like someone never saw a James Bond movie.

AJ wasn't worried when Discord's men untied her, picked her up and carried her to the elevator, designed to carry supplies and passengers to any of the three floors. She wasn't concerned when she was thrown into the second floor kitchen, with the door locked behind her and no way out. She wasn't even worried that her hands were still tied behind her back at an awkward and painful angle. She wasn't worried because she knew that as she lay there in wait, P.O.N.Y. would have picked up the tracker in her phone, and Tara would be planning a rescue to save her life. She had gathered plenty of information from Discord, and once she told it to Wilson, huge advancements could be made to stop The Unknown. All she needed to do was get out of the Imperial Chinese Restuarant. Luckily, she knew she had one of the best teams in the world coming to support her.

__________

"This team is a fucking disgrace!" Dash yelled in anger. "If that lifeless bitch is in control, then she'll not only kill AJ, but every fucking one of us!"

Dash was currently being held in the sleeping quarters, with Rachel making sure that she didn't try to leave. Tara and Fiona were still in the Briefing Room, and Pinky was acting a messenger for the group. Since Tara and Dash couldn't stay together in a room without attempting to rip each other's faces off, Pinky was forced to run back and forth between the rooms, negotiating a peace between the girls.

She arrived in the Briefing Room.

"Dash thinks that you are a bad leader, and I don't think she likes your plans of action," Pinky reported.

"Well, Dash wouldn't do any better," Tara snapped. "She doesn't think anything through! She needs to learn self-restraint." Pinky sighed and ran back to the other room. It was approaching five o'clock, and she had been doing this negotiation for hours. While her energy was usually boundless, being around the two arguing women put a serious damper on her mood. She got back to the other room, and started to say her message.

"Tara doesn't think you can control yourself," Pinky said.

"Tell Tara to stick a vibrator up her asshole," Dash responded with a sneer. Pinky sprinted back to the Briefing Room.

"Dash told you to, uh…" Pinky said, rubbing the back of her head. "Well, she said some naughty things, and-"

"Okay, I think that's enough, Pinky," Tara spoke, annoyed. "We've been doing this for hours. AJ is in trouble, and we need to get her out of there." Tara sighed. "Look, I have a plan of how to get her back here, one that thankfully doesn't involve Dash. I say we just postpone this argument, and focus on getting our friend back." Fiona and Pinky were rather surprised by this announcement.

"Um, Tara, how do you exactly plan to do that?" Fiona wondered aloud.

"I'll explain on our way there," Tara said. "But first, we need to take care of some things. Fiona, I need you to go the training room, and silenced weapons and my sword. Pinky, try to get Rachel away from Rebecca."

"How do I do that?" Pinky asked. She wasn't particularly good with deceiving people, especially when she had to go off of her instincts.

"I don't know," Tara admitted. "You can rattle off a hundred thoughts per second. I'm sure you can think of something."

"But I don't actually think about what I say!" Pinky said nervously. "It just comes to me, and then it's gone. How am I supposed to distract Dash? What if she starts yelling at me? She can be really nasty sometimes…"

"Pinky, you can do this," Tara said with assurance. Pinky took a deep breath, and then gave a nod. She jogged out of the room and headed towards Dash and Rachel. She honestly had no idea of how to separate the two, and make sure Dash didn't know what they were up to. If she did find out, she'd be furious, and that was something that Pinky didn't want to see, ever. She slowed her pace down, trying to take her time reaching the sleeping quarters. It turned out that slowing down was actually quite hard for her, and she had to carefully guide herself through slow footprints. Hundreds of thoughts raced through her mind at speeds she wished she could be moving at right now. But none of them seemed to help, and now, she found herself standing at the doorway, with no plan or strategy. She wished that she could just find some way to eliminate all variables; find a way to make sure Dash couldn't interfere. And the, she suddenly got an idea. A very wondrous, fantastic, brilliant idea. She pushed in the door to find the two girls where she left them. She smiled.

"Hey, Dash, good news," Pinky said cheerily. "Tara wants to apologize to you." Dash was in disbelief. She had never actually expected Tara to come out with a full apology. She thought that Tara had too much pride to accept defeat. She grinned. Surely, she thought, that this meant Tara had been knocked down a few pegs, and that she had finally seen how awful of a person she really was. Hell, maybe it meant that Tara was willing to give up her position of leadership to Dash directly, officially claiming her to be the better person. Dash stood up with great pride, taking joy in Rachel's rather shocked expression. She happily stepped towards the door, allowing Pinky to lead her.

"It's about time she admitted who was the better man," Dash said as she left the room. Rachel followed her out, unable to believe that Tara would accept defeat to Dash's completely disrespectful behavior. The three of them walked towards the Briefing Room, pride ringing in Dash's heart. They finally arrived, and Pinky opened the door, allowing Dash to step through, a large grin on her face. Tara was surprised to see Dash walk through the door, and she quickly realized that Pinky must have messed up her orders. Dash was smirking at her with such confidence, and it made Tara sick. Dash felt so confident that she didn't even notice when Pinky place three fingers on a certain portion of Dash's collarbone.

"Well, Spark," Dash said in her cocky manner. "I think you got someth-"

Suddenly, Dash's eyes rolled up into her head, and she collapsed to the ground. Rachel jumped back and yelped, while Tara stood up from her seat on the desk, and looked at Pinky with shock.

"What did you do?" Tara screamed. Pinky suddenly started moving quickly again, hopping up and down on her toes, knowing that for every second she talked, it was another second wasted. She grabbed onto Dash's legs, and dragged her under a nearby desk.

"It was the only thing I could think of!" Pinky admitted. "Come on, I don't know how long she'll stay under." She rushed out of the room, and the others, still in shock, followed her. They passed Fiona in the hall, who had several guns cradled in her arms, and a sword strapped to her back. She turned to follow them as they rushed outside the building through the restaurant, and got in the van parked outside. As Tara started up the car, Rachel asked Pinky the one question on her mind.

"Pinky, where the hell did you learn to do that?" Rachel asked in bewilderment. Pinky smiled.

"Duh, my grandma was one of the biggest Star Trek fans, like, ever," Pinky stated the fact as if everyone should have known it.

"You know," Rachel stated. "I think I learn something new about you every day, Pinky."

"So do I, Rachel," Pinky smiled. "So do I."

__________

Tara considered herself very fortunate that her parents had taken her to the Imperial Chinese Restaurant one year ago. She was going through a stage of trying to learn more about foreign culture, and she begged her parents to take her there. At the time, she wasn't very comfortable with driving, and her parents never wanted her to go to the city alone, so they came along for the ride. Luckily, Tara's photographic memory was working overtime that day as she let the full experience settle in. She memorized every little detail of the restaurant, which was why she was now suspending herself in a window frame next door, waiting to coordinate a finishing strike to remove the guards. She wished that she had changed into more appropriate gear for the mission. She was still wearing her purple wizard T-shirt, jeans, and sandals, which she learned was not very comfortable for espionage. She did feel worse for Rachel, knowing that the foreign girl must be very uncomfortable suspended from a building wearing fur boots, a vest, and a scarf. Being suspended at such an awkward angle would have put plenty of strain on her upper back, and the extra weight of wool wouldn't help much. Tara was secretly glad that she had never devoted herself to any clothing trends, preferring not to sacrifice function for fashion. She shook the thoughts out of her head, refocusing on the mission.

After arriving, she had taken a quick survey of the area. Four guards patrolled the outside, this time staying in motion, tying to prevent an ambush. But Tara quickly discovered a flaw in their patrol schedule, and was now waiting to take advantage of it. She needed to wait three more seconds for one of the guards to walk beneath her.

Suddenly, her moment came, and she dropped from the window right on top of the guard, her weight knocking him to the ground. With haste, she unsheathed her blade, and drove it into the man's chest, penetrating through his armor and ending his life. Based on the lack of a panic, she knew that the rest of the girls must have followed with the same maneuver all around the building. With two silenced shots, two more guards died, unable to defend their weakened bodies. Tara smiled and headed to the back of the restaurant. There, the rest of her team lay in wait. The net part of the plan was simple: getting into the actual theater. If Tara's memory served a ventilation shaft should have been right above her, leading to the first floor dining area. She looked up, and saw that memory had indeed served her right once again. After getting a boost from the others, she was able to dig her sword into the vent, and tear off the gate. She crawled through the small shaft, and after a brief, yet hot journey, she reached the main dining room for floor one. She opened the vent as quietly as she could, and placed it beside her. She looked around the room.

It was quite adequately lit for being closed for six months. It was not as bright as it would have been, but the dim light made it just possible to see through the restaurant. Elegant paintings covered the walls and ceiling, and forty or so tables were placed around the dining area, once meant to seat plentiful guests. Each table was covered with fine silk tablecloths, never having been removed by the owners after the shutdown. At the back of the eating area, an elevator awaited to take people to one of the higher two floors. Five guards stood watch around the room, two standing by the front door, and three patrolling the room, their keen eyes on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. On the walls, three mounted security cameras scanned the room, constantly rotating back and forth on its stand. Tara quickly crawled back to the other side of the vent to report to her team, and she dropped down back behind the theater.

"Okay, so here's what we are dealing with," Tara explained the situation to the girls, and then fully laid out her plans for attack. The motions were quite simple to follow through. All of them would start by entering through the vent. Pinky would shoot out the security cameras, while Fiona entered and eliminated the two guards closest to her. Rachel and Tara were to sneak around to the other side and incapacitate the remaining three men. From there, they would head up the elevator shaft to the second floor, where they hoped to either find Discord or AJ waiting for them.

The motions were carried out with extreme efficiency. In fact, everything almost happened too easily. Fiona managed to slip out of the vent just as Pinky destroyed the cameras, resulting in sparks flying from the broken machines. Fiona silently moved amongst the shadows created by the tables in the dim light. By the time the first guard saw her, she was already a less than a yard away, her quickened yet silent feet moving at full speed. She delivered a quick blow to his larynx, preventing him from shouting, before flying past him and doing the same to his comrade. As she took them down silently, Tara had reached one of the patrolling guards and dug her blade deep into his ribs. Rachel quickly moved to the other man, delivering a swift kick to his head, sending him slamming into one of the tables, causing the wooden object to splinter apart. The commotion drew the attention of the final guard, but he couldn't reach his superiors in time. As he reached to trigger his earpiece, Pinky shot him in the chink in his armor, at his neck. He grasped onto his throat, trying to keep the blood inside, but it was to no avail. After a few desperate seconds for survival, he fell to the ground, dead. The girls moved to the elevator, stepping past the corpses (as Fiona tried to avoid looking at the dead bodies.)

"Okay, so what do we do now," Rachel asked, looking at the elevator. Tara shrugged.

"I suppose we just take the elevator up," Tara suggested. Fiona was uneasy with this plan, however, and spoke out about her concerns.

"But, wouldn't that kind of, uh," Fiona said nervously, not wanting to show any accidental disrespect to her leader. "You know, draw attention to ourselves?"

"Well, we have to get up there somehow," Tara told her. "And I don't see any other way."

"I just don't feel like that would be the best idea to use something that would be so noisy," Fiona admitted. Tara sighed.

"Look, I admit, it may not be the smartest idea, but we really don't have another way up," Tara said honestly. Fiona face brightened up.

"Actually, I think I have a back-up," Fiona explained. "See, from where I was outside, I could see that on the third floor, someone left a small window open. We could probably get through there." Tara considered this possibility. She had not seen this window before, and had no idea it existed. It was actually not a horrible idea. It would certainly attract far less attention than otherwise using the elevator. Rachel, however, shook her head frantically.

"No way," Rachel said with determination. "No way in hell I'm going to climb up the side of a building wearing this." Rachel pointed to her outfit, including all of her fancy jewelry, belts, and designer clothes that she had spent good money on. "I already got fucking blood spilled on this tonight; I'm not going to climb vertically up an old, dusty building with this on." Rachel was so distraught with the idea of her clothes being ruined, that she didn't notice that one of the guards Fiona had knocked out was starting to stir.

"Rachel, are you being serious?" Tara asked in disbelief. "This is a life-and-death situation involving the life of our friend, and you want to jeopardize it to save a scarf?"

"For your information, this scarf is worth more than this entire building!" Rachel said, acting as if she was personally offended. "And besides, I am a lady of character. I will not risk my own health when an equally viable option is sitting right before us."

The guard by the front door got to his knees, and looked around, holding his foggy head in his hand.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked himself under his breath, letting out a groan.

"You're being ridiculous!" Tara proclaimed to her friend. The last thing she needed now was to argue with another one of her teammates. She was already down enough allies as it was.

"I'm not being ridiculous," Rachel said in defense. "We could kill ourselves in a climb like that. Besides, we don't even have the proper equipment for a steep incline like that. Do you know what equipment we need to ride an elevator? None."

The man at the door slowly got his thoughts straightened out, and he quickly realized that there were four girls standing by the elevator, and all of his squad mates were lying dead or unconscious on the ground. He panicked briefly, before he got control of his thoughts, picked up his gun, and rose to his feet.

CRASH

All of a sudden, a large white car drove through the front doors at top speed. It ran over the man, and drove through several tables, before coming to a complete halt. The girls were quite astonished to see the front doors practically explode and a vehicle to plow through the building, creating so much noise that any hopes of remaining stealthy were all but diminished. Tara was quite in question on who could perform such a chaotic and reckless act. However, the enigma solved itself when the car window rolled down, and a voice shouted from the driver's seat.

"Motherfucker, that was awesome!"

Tara witnessed one of the worst things she had seen all day, as Dash opened up the car door, and with one of the cockiest grins, started walking towards the girls with a gun in her hand. She smiled at them, acting like everything was perfectly normal.

"Uh, Dash, it's… really great to see you," Pinky said, trying to get past the uneasy feeling she had seeing Dash smiling.

"Yeah, it's good to be alive," Dash said with a smile. "By the way…" Suddenly, Dash punched Tara hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her and bringing her to her knees.

"Rebecca, what the hell?" Tara looked up at Dash, seeing that she was now letting her rage come out.

"THAT WAS FOR KNOCKING ME OUT AND DRAGGING ME BENEATH A FUCKING DESK!" Dash yelled at her. Tara slowly got to her feet, and searing pain running through her midsection. Dash turned her rage to the others. "And what the fuck I wrong with you guys?! You left me behind! I thought we were a team here!"

"We're… we're really sorry," Fiona said quickly, trying to avoid Dash's fury. Dash stuck up her middle finger at Fiona, and walked towards the elevator.

"Fuck you guys," Dash said with a sneer. "Just consider yourselves lucky I managed to track you down here." She pressed the button on the elevator, and waited for it to come down. Tara turned around, and started to yell again.

"Why do you think we need you here?!" Tara asked at her, as the elevator came down. "Everything was going just fine before you showed up. Now our cover's blown!"

"Excuse me, Spark, but if I'm not mistaken, I just saved your fucking life," Dash spoke back angrily. She stepped into the elevator, and the rest of the girls followed her inside. "Why do you have to be so bitchy all the time?"

"Don't you understand what you've done?" Tara asked in rage, begrudgingly entering the elevator, forcing her to be cramped in a tight space with someone that she very-much hated. "AJ is being held hostage. Now that they know that we're here, they'll probably execute her! She is going to die."

"Then we save her," Dash said nonchalantly. "We're a group of bad-asses. Why do you have to worry so much? It's not my fault that you've never cum before. Stop with the hate."

Tara was getting extremely frustrated with Dash, as the elevator was slowing down.

"I'll stop when you learn to take some fucking responsibility, and actually care about the people you're fighting for!" Tara shouted. The elevator came to a halt on the second floor, as the doors slowly opened. Dash turned back to Tara.

"Jesus Christ, calm the fuck down!" Dash yelled at her, their eyes never breaking contact with each other. "Nothing bad is going to happen!"

"Ahem."

Dash and Tara stopped staring at each other, and turned towards the open elevator door. Just outside the elevator, five guards had their assault rifles trained on the girls, with Discord standing behind them. AJ was in his grasp, and he had his revolver pressed to the side of her head. He looked at them rather disappointingly, as if they had failed to live up to his great expectations. AJ had a very annoyed and confused expression, as her first sight of her friends in hours, who were supposed to rescue her, was the sight of two of them trying to rip each other's throats apart.

"Not to break up your little, well, intervention," Discord said, as if he were trying to finish his business and return to his work. "But, in case you haven't noticed, there's a fucking car, in my fucking hideout, and you fucking girls are back again, fucking my fucking business over! How? How the fuck did you find me?!"

Pinky, showing no sense of danger (and possibly not aware of it existing) answered with a shrug.

"We have a tracker on AJ's phone," Pinky said, causing her to teammates to glare at her. She was puzzled. "What? He asked."

"Another thing," Discord asked with a sigh. "How much training do you have in the first place? You killed most of my best troops. Aside from those fuckers upstairs, these five," Discord tilted his head at the five guards. "Are all I got left. How long have you assholes been working for?"

"Two weeks," Pinky said yet again, resulting in even more glares. Discord was quite stunned by the answer, and took a second to mentally process the information.

"Pinky, shut up," Rachel said annoyed. It was enough that she had guns pointed at her, but the fact that Pinky was revealing all of their secrets was adding insult to injury.

"Two weeks?" Discord asked in disbelief. "Two fucking weeks? How… what… what the fuck?" Taking advantage of Discord's confusion, AJ finally got to speak out her concern to Tara.

"Tara, what were you thinking with that plan?" AJ asked, very annoyed. "Crashing a car through a building aint very discreet." Tara groaned.

"Trust me, it wasn't my fault," Tara motioned at Dash, who acted offended. AJ sighed.

"I leave you girls alone for a few hours, and you're already splitting apart," AJ said, disappointed. "I'm going to have to fix this, aint I?" Tara looked at her friend, very confused. AJ was clearly not in any position to fight. Her hands were tied behind her back, and at any moment, Discord could but a bullet through her brain. And it wasn't as if the rest of them were in very tactical position, either.

Suddenly, AJ started to count down from five.

"Five, four, three, two…" AJ counted, as Discord was still trying to register the fact that five teenagers trained for fourteen days, and were able to beat his best men, who had undergone years of hard work for their impressive skills to be attained. AJ reached the number "one", and she suddenly slammed her head back into Discord's face, causing him to bring his hands to his face, and drop his gun. The soldiers suddenly turned around as AJ managed to catch the gun, her hands still tied. She quickly rolled under Discord's arm, getting behind him. Then, with a sick cracking sound, she rotated her shoulders around two hundred and seventy degrees, wrapping her arms around Discord's neck, and pressing the gun against his forehead. The guards were now all facing her as she held their boss hostage, and they were unsure of what to do next.

In this moment of confusion, Tara gave the order to take action. She led by lunging out of the elevator, and tackling one of the soldiers to the ground. The others followed, attacking the men before they had time to react. AJ grinned at her masterful distraction. She was so glad that she almost didn't realize that she holding the gun in a position where she couldn't fire. She simply gripped the chamber, her fingers unable to reach the trigger. In this moment, Discord understood that he would not be shot, and retaliated with a head-butt of his own. Now, with AJ knocked away and his gun falling to the floor, he took up a fighting stance. He grinned at AJ, who scoffed at him. She took a stance of her own, her hands staying at her waist, feet firmly planted on the floor. She looked like she was fully able to incapacitate any enemy, even with her severe handicap, and Discord quickly remembered what she had one to his men earlier in the day. He realized that fighting her head on probably wouldn't be the brightest idea, so with a brief chuckle of embarrassment, he dove towards his revolver. He leaned over to pick it up, and AJ suddenly rolled over his back, landing on his other side, and kicking him hard in the ribs. He groaned and rolled over, as AJ slid the gun far away with her foot.

Meanwhile, the others were faced in a series of fights of their own. Tara had stabbed her target immediately after tackling him, and now she was helping Pinky fight against her opponent, knowing that her hyper friend was not the most capable close-combat fighter. Tara drew away most of the attention from her friend, but it didn't stop Pinky from nearly getting cut in half several times from her opponent's machete, as she tried to deliver quick jabs from behind. Rachel was caught in a game of cat and mouse with her Hound Dog, as he swung at her constantly, each swing carrying momentum to the next. She was very thankful she had taken yoga classes growing up, as her flexibility saved her life on multiple occasions. He took a high swing, and she bent backwards at eighty degrees, seeing the machete swipe just where her head previously was located. She took a quick glance at Fiona, who was keeping her distance from the soldier.

He was standing about a yard away from her, holding his blade out, tempting her to come closer. However, she stayed away, trying to learn his body movement as rapidly as possible. She noticed certain behaviors, like the constant twitching in his left leg. He leaned slightly on his right foot, indicating a bad leg. She saw an opportunity to strike, and she dove forwards to his left side. He stepped back, startled by the rapid movement, and Fiona delivered a sharp kick to the back of his left knee. He clutched the leg, and Fiona sprung up and drove an elbow into his spine. Unfortunately, she had hit his body armor hard, and she jumped back to hold her elbow, hissing in pain.

AJ noticed that she could have taken Discord down by this point, but she was severely limited by the lack of functionality from her arms. Discord tried his best to hit her with quick jabs, but every time she would sidestep the blow, and attempt a kick. He would see her leg move, roll away, and then they would repeat the process. It was starting to aggravate AJ that she couldn't take down a completely under matched fighter under such a pathetic handicap.

Rachel was finding herself to have a similar problem, still only being able to dodge attacks rather than deal out any of her own. Mostly, it was because the Hound Dog never gave her a chance to attack, but a small part of it was due to fear. She knew that one of her weak hits wouldn't do much to someone wearing armor, but she also knew she had to strike eventually. After a few more nerve-racking dodges, and a display of flexibility that was enough to make most cheerleaders turn envious, she finally let out a strong right hook at the man's face. He sidestepped easily, and then in one fluent motion, brought up his blade and swung it against Rachel's arm. She tried to dodge, but she moved too slowly, and the edge of the machete dragged deep against her arm, tracing a path of blood from the side of her bicep, down her arm, to the back of her wrist. She screamed in pain, grabbing onto her arm as she tried to gain distance from her attacker. Blood poured out of her wound, seeping over her fingers and dripping to the floor in a steady stream. The soldier readied himself for a lunge as Rachel backed herself into a corner, too focused on the pain to think about dodging. But before the soldier was able to strike, an object was thrown at him, hitting him in the back of the head. He turned around, and saw that Dash was standing triumphantly over the corpse of a Hound Dog, a cocky grin on her face. She had thrown her fighter's machete at him to draw his attention, not because she wanted to save Rachel's life, but because she wanted to end someone else's.

"Come on, you little bitch," Dash taunted. "Come and fucking cut me up already!" The soldier left Rachel alone, and charged after Dash. Fiona, who had knocked out her opponent with a swift blow to the head, ran over to Rachel, trying her best to treat her cut. Fiona noticed that it did not appear too deep, which gave her some sense of relief. She tried to focus some of her attention towards Dash however, wanting to make sure her friend was okay. But there didn't seem to be anything to worry about. Dash was smiling away as she dodged every swing of a sword the Hound Dog had to offer, showing no effort moving out of the way. All the while, she taunted the soldier, saying whatever harsh word came to mind.

"Come on, is that the fastest you can move?" Dash teased him. "I know you move faster than that whenever your mother offers to suck your cock again. Don't pretend like you don't love it. Ooh, nice swing there! You almost proved your worth as part of humanity that time! Close, but no cigar, fuck face."

As this was happening, the two-on-one strategy was working wonders for Tara and Pinky. The soldier couldn't draw away from Tara without the risk of her slicing him apart, which meant that Pinky had ample time to lay in the hits. Unfortunately, most of her strikes simply bounced off of his armor, resulting in some pain in Pinky's knuckles, and a rumbling traveling through the soldier's back. Tara blocked the man's swipes with her own sword, and she did her best to parry each attack. The soldier started to swing from higher angles, trying to use leverage to bring Tara to her demise.

And suddenly, she found herself failing. Her grip started to slip from her fingers. The increasing weight started to pile on more and more. Pinky's blows were being ignored completely now, and Tara's block was breaking right before her eyes. With one devastating slash, Tara's balance failed her, and her guard was broken, leaving her open to an easy killing blow. But Pinky, in her best attempt to assist her friend, jumped onto the soldier's back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He lowered his blade, and tried to shake the girl off of himself, but it was to no avail. Pinky's grip was tight, and her determination was fierce. The man was slowly starting to suffocate as Pinky increased her tenacity, closing off his airway. He swung around desperately, trying to shake the hyper girl away. Pinky was starting to feel the effects of his struggle, as she felt her grip loosening from his throat. Her strength was starting to fade, and the soldier was regaining his balance, preparing to go on the attack yet again. Unwilling to let that happen, Pinky summoned the rest of the strength she had to tighten her grip around the man's head and neck. Then, with one mighty twist of his arms, she snapped his neck, bringing his life to a close. Pinky fell to the ground, panting, feeling weak, as she heard a cheer coming from across the room.

"Yeah, way to go, Pinky!" Dash called out in celebration. She was still dodging the swipes from her Hound Dog enemy, not caring at all about what danger he could cause. He was no longer the main focus of attention for Dash any more. Now, she was more focused on Pinky's excellent execution, ignoring the threat standing a few feet from her. She continued to call back to her friend, as her opponent rose was trying to calm himself after Dash's long, painful string of insults. "Thank God that's three of these fuckers dead! Now, tie for you to watch how the fucking magic happens!"

Dash turned back to the man, but she never saw him, as a shadow took up most of her vision. Suddenly, the armored knee of the Hound Dog collided hard with her face. She was defenseless against the attack, and the impact struck her so forcefully that she nearly lost her balance, stumbling back a few steps. She grasped her face, and tried to muscle through the searing headache she was getting. She let go, trying to readjust her vision, but her attacker gave her no such opportunity. He punched her in the face with an armored fist, and then repeated the process twice more. She stumbled backwards, struggling to keep her balance. She realized that she vastly underestimated her opponent, and now, her face was getting caved in because of it. Dash had always considered herself to be very tough, very resilient, and able to withstand any form of punishment. It wasn't as if she had never experienced pain. But as one spends their entire life associated with pain, they grow numb to it, and are able to overcome it in whatever form it takes. Which was why she knew that those armored hits hurt an incredible amount.

She was punched once more, and now, she couldn't stay on her feet any longer. Her vision was doubling, her head was hazy, and the world was tilting. She fell to her hands and knees, as a shadow of a man raising his blade appeared before her. Her instincts told her to run. Her instincts told her to dodge. Her instincts told her that if she didn't move right now, she was going to die. She was going to be sliced into pieces unless she got her senses together. But she couldn't do it. Her feet wouldn't respond to her commands, and she just couldn't focus on the danger that was about to end her life. She didn't comprehend the fact that in a few short moments, her existence would come to an end, in the bloodiest manner possible. The shadow moved, swinging something down upon her.

She didn't understand the feeling of dread she was getting at the sight of it. It wasn't as if she felt any pain. In fact, she felt nothing other than the painful sensation in her head. She started to regain a sense of her surroundings, and she heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Then, she heard a female voice talking to her angrily.

"Dash, focus! Get up! I can't keep saving you forever, you know!"

Dash's senses snapped back to life. She saw Tara standing next to her, her sword locked with the machete, hanging just inches above her. Tara was struggling to keep the enemy's blade up. And suddenly, Dash remembered that she was about to die. She rolled out of the way, as Tara couldn't hold up the machete any longer. She ended the clash, as the machete struck where Dash was moments ago. Dash got to her feet, and said the first thing on her mind whenever she saw Tara.

"Didn't need your help there, Spark," Dash said with a sneer.

"Just focus and help me kill this guy," Tara said with a grunt. "After this, you need to learn a lesson in respecting others." The girls started to fight, although this could not interrupt their clash of words.

"And you didn't have to be an attention whore," Dash said, dodging a swing from the machete.

Meanwhile, AJ and Discord were still battling, and Discord understood that the only thing saving his life was the fact that AJ was still in handcuffs. She attempted an overhead swing, but Discord dove out of the way. They were still dueling by the elevator, now alone on their side of the room, all other's currently busy. Discord quickly studied the situation. Once his last soldier fell, he would stand no chance of survival. The remaining Hound Dogs were upstairs, and he knew that they were never supposed to leave their posts there, as the money they protected was far more valuable to them than his life right now, no matter how much he personally disagreed with it. He knew his only chance of survival was to get on the elevator and make it upstairs. But how? He then saw his saving grace as he was backing away from AJ's advance. A few yards from him, his revolver lay in wait. He knew he had to get to it, and fast. But first, Discord had to slip away from AJ.

He quickly reached into his pocket, and pulled out a long knife. He readied himself, planting both feet firmly on the ground, and bending his legs, making him a hard target to knock over. AJ charged at him at full speed, and he smirked, seeing his chance to escape come to life before his eyes. He waited until AJ got as close as possible, and then, he lashed out with the knife, swooping it upwards through the air. He glared at the knife in victory, knocking he had cut through something. He looked back at AJ, and his smile faded. AJ's ties had been sliced by the knife, and now, she was free and unrestrained.

AJ smirked.

Discord gulped.

Then, he ran.

He sprinted towards the gun as fast as he could, with AJ now close behind him. He dove onto his weapon, rolling as he hit the ground, so that he would spring back up. He jumped back up, his faithful revolver in his left hand. He turned quickly towards AJ, but could not react fast enough as she plowed into him. He held onto his gun this time, and tried to shoot once moreagain. But AJ now grabbed onto his wrists, and they started to have a tug-of-war over the colt revolver.

Tara was busy fighting when she heard the sound of a gunshot ringing through the air. She looked over towards AJ, hoping not to see her friend dead. Luckily, she was still quite alive, continuing to wrestle with Discord over the gun, which had misfired into the ceiling. Tara suddenly understood her priorities, and knew that if Discord got that gun, major problems would occur. The soldier was facing Dash now, trying to cut her open, and she was now fully focused on avoiding his attacks. Fiona was busy helping Rachel, and Pinky had dropped her own guns when she tackled one of the soldiers. Tara then realized that she was the only chance of assisting her friend.

With a quick glance back at AJ, she suddenly struck the soldier over the back of the head, briefly knocking him unconscious. Before Dash had time to react, Tara was already sprinting towards AJ and Discord, her sword at her side, ready to strike.

"AJ, I'm coming!" Tara yelled to her friend to alert her of the reinforcements. However, it was not AJ who was helped by this notification. Discord suddenly realized that another opportunity had presented itself, and this time, he would not let it get away. He raised his foot, and slammed it hard upon AJ's. She winced in pain, and then in the moment of her reaction, he head-butted her again, temporarily knocking her away.

With his hands now free, he quickly spun around towards Tara, smiling as he pointed the gun at the young girl.

BANG

Tara froze. She dint know why, but she felt like she couldn't move anymore. A strange sense of euphoria washed over her. She was shaking slightly as she held her pose, still positioned in mid-sprint. Tara's breathing was very jagged, and she felt her vision starting to fade. She saw AJ staring at her in shock, but Tara didn't know why. She felt as if something had passed through her, like a ghost phasing threw her torso. She didn't feel any pain, so she didn't understand why there was any need to panic.

And then, she had the desperate need to look down at her body. She didn't know why, but it just felt like she had to do it. Tara tilted her head, and saw that a large red stain was forming just between her last few ribs on her right side. It took her a brief moment to realize that what she was seeing wasn't any design on her shirt, but instead her own blood pouring out of her. Tara looked back at AJ, an expression of confusion on her face.

Then, she dropped her sword, and collapsed to the ground, her body going limp.

All AJ could do was stare in disbelief at Tara's form, lying on the ground merely a few yards away. It was in this moment Discord made a mad dash towards the elevator. He leapt inside, and pounded on the third floor button as many times as he could. Finally, the elevator doors closed, and he was carried up to the third floor. It was dead silent around the room. For a few seconds, no one could do anything but stare at Tara.

Then, AJ quickly ran towards Tara as fast as she could. She didn't care about fighting Discord anymore, her only thoughts focusing on her friend's well-being. She slid over to Tara and knelt beside her, slowly rotating Tara onto her back. Tara screamed at the sharp movement, feeling like someone was snapping her in half. Pinky ran over also, and even Rachel, who had been so focused on her own injury, now felt nothing aside from worry, sprinting over to Tara as well. Fiona slowly rose to her feet, and started to walk fearfully over, not wanting to know the full extent of the damage. Tara's scream shook her to the core. It only gave her a sense of dread, like something terrible had gone wrong. She had been so focused on helping Rachel that she didn't even have time to support her closest friend when she most desperately needed her. Already, tears were starting to form in Fiona's eyes, as she caught a glimpse of AJ's terrified face. It gave Fiona no sense of security, and her fears only increased once she finally got close to Tara.

"Rachel, scarf! Now!" AJ commanded Rachel, who covered her mouth with her hand, noticing the large amount of blood Tara was losing. A pool was forming beneath her friend, which was soaking through Tara's clothing. Rachel didn't even register AJ's orders, too shocked to move. AJ yelled at her again, and this time Rachel understood, taking off her scarf and handing it to the southern girl. AJ wrapped the scarf around Tara's torso, in a fast attempt to slow the bleeding. Pinky, realizing something was wrong despite her ever optimistic mood, tried to get AJ to explain what was happening. Fiona had now joined the others, crowded around Tara, who was breathing very raggedly. AJ refused to answer Pinky, too focused on Tara's wounds to think of anything else. She knew from training that she couldn't lose herself when other soldiers died, but she was finding it increasingly difficult. She didn't want to sit down and cry, but she felt like she was losing something far too important to let go of.

Tara felt intense agony. Every breath felt like her chest was on fire. Every slightest move of her body felt like someone was twisting her bones around in circles. It hurt her tremendously to breathe, but she couldn't stop breathing heavier and heavier, which only made the sensation worse. Her ears were ringing, and her surroundings kept fading in and out. The pain was slowly turning into a dull numbness, as her nerves started to lose all feeling other than agony. She thought she was going to die. She always heard that people went numb when they die; she wondered if this feeling was what they were actually referring to. In fact, for a brief moment, she thought that she wouldn't even care if she died.

She looked up, and saw the faces of her friends staring back at her. Pinky looked incredibly confused, with only a hint of understanding the grave reality of what was happening. Rachel looked like she was going to be ill. Fiona had turned away from Tara, the simple sight of her friend bringing her to sobs. AJ was still working hard to save Tara's life, but Tara saw that her resolve was fading. Tara felt like she should be saying her final goodbyes or something, but she was too weak to say anything.

No, Tara thought, trying to force herself to keep her hopes high. I am not going to die like this. Not yet. There's too much left that I'd leave behind.

Then, Tara noticed that there was one person left in the room not crowded by her. Dash was a few feet away, by the unconscious soldier. Dash was now leaning against the nearby wall. Her eyes were wide, and she stared blankly at the floor. Other than that, she had no expression on her face. There were no tears streaming down her cheeks, no desperate plea to God that Tara would live. All she did was just stare at the floor, arms by her side, as she heard her friends struggle to save Tara's life. She didn't bother looking at Tara to know the extent of the damage. She didn't have to. Tara's screams and Fiona's cries were all it took to understand that Tara probably was not going to survive the night. It seemed a little funny to Dash, actually. The thought that Tara would be killed by a crazed gunman, of all people, was rather humorous. The great, noble Tara Sullivan brought down by a lowlife psychopath was nothing other than pure ironic comedy.

Actually, now that Dash thought about it, it wasn't funny anymore. Suddenly, it became something else. Instead of making her laugh, it filled her with a different emotion, one that Dash was quite familiar with. She had felt it every single day of her life, through all of her most miserable hours and desolate moments. She felt it every time she had seen how wonderful everyone else lived, every time she witnessed how poorly everyone acted to her, every time she had been forced to fight against the stupidity of the world. She looked down at the unconscious man at her feet, starting to awaken. And the simple sight of him moving and breathing, getting up just to kill more people, pushed Dash's emotions to their brink. She clenched her teeth, and her hands closed tightly into fists, her nails digging deep into her skin. Her face was like death, as she spoke to no one, yet everyone.

"They're going to die," Dash said harshly, her voice rough. Blood started to leak from her hands as her nails dug deeper into her own flesh. She looked up from the ground, and AJ turned her attention to her, seeing Dash full of more rage than she had ever witnessed. Dash raised her foot in the air; now turning her attention to the other unconscious man Fiona had been fighting.

"EVERY LAST ONE OF THESE MOTHERFUCKERS IS GOING TO DIE!"

She slammed her foot down as hard as she could onto the soldier's head, breaking through his armor and skull. Her foot traveled through his brain, and pressed hard onto the other side of his bone. She pushed off from her blood and brain soaked foot, and sprinted as fast as she could towards the other living man in the room. Right before she reached him, she jumped in the air. She brought her full weight down upon his spine, shattering it instantly. She forced his body to turn over, and then she started punching him in the face, beating him through his armor. Her hands were bruising against the face mask, but she didn't care. She kept beating on him, knowing that she was causing him pain. Or at least, she hoped he was in pain. She felt him stir beneath her, and she wanted him to feel all of the pain Tara was feeling at this moment, if not more. It was the only thing that mattered to her, except for the one last piece of business she needed to address. She turned to the other girls, who were now noticing her outburst of hatred. With a bloody fist, she pointed at the elevator.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" Dash shouted in anger. "GET UP THERE AND KILL THAT ASSHOLE ALREADY!"

The force of Dash's command knocked the girls out of their stupor. Without saying another word, they each understood that if Discord escaped, only more destruction would follow in his wake. Still, that didn't stop AJ from wanting to stay at Tara's side, help her through the pain. She knew that the girl also couldn't just leave Tara alone, bleeding to death in an abandoned restaurant. But Fiona kneeled down beside her, understanding AJ's worries.

"AJ," Fiona said through her tears, which she was trying hard to sniffle away. "I'll stay here and look after her." AJ nodded. She understood that Tara meant a lot to Fiona. She didn't know the exact details, but she imagined that Fiona would take Tara's death worse than any of them. Tara was one of Fiona's only friends, and Fiona would do all she could at keeping her friend safe. AJ looked back at Tara, silently wishing for her friend to be okay, and then she stood up, wiping away all emotion to focus on her job.

"Alright then, listen up," AJ instructed the girls. "We can't use the elevator. They'd be guardin' it like hell. So, I need you to grab assault rifles from the corpses over here, and follow me through the kitchen. It's time we end this bastard once and for all." AJ turned towards Dash, who was still pounding away into the lifeless shell of a soldier, her hands bloodied and bruised. "Dash, ya coming?"

"Go on," Dash grunted. "I... need to finish something here."

__________

The third floor of the restaurant was mainly used to house novelty items before the shutdown. It was designed for its ambiance; so many fantastic stain glass portraits lined the walls of the room, depicting Chinese artistry, including great dragons, fighting soldiers, and beautiful women. At a time, the room used to hold mostly shelves, but these were taken out to make accommodations for Discord's wealth. Millions of dollars were stacked in great piles across the room, signaling the Smiling Dragon's great accomplishments. Discord had instructed his five best soldiers stay in this room to protect the money with their lives, even at the cost of his own life. He figured that it was better to have a large sum of money be saved to be used later, rather than sacrifice a leader who could always be replaced by someone else.

However, Discord seemed to be forgetting this particular memory now, as he was holding one soldier down and slapping him repeatedly across his unprotected face.

"Why. Didn't. You. Help. Me?!" Discord punctuated each word with a vicious slap. He didn't give the soldier time to answer before he threw the man to the ground. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck, guys! Follow this order, will ya?! See that elevator?" Discord pointed at the large gray doors. "If that opens, light it up! I don't give a fuck who's inside! Just waste 'em! I need to get out of here, so if you excuse me…"

Discord started to walk away from the elevator, which was now being targeted by the soldiers. He had an escape route through the back room, which led down through the kitchen and out a hidden back entrance. Suddenly, a whirring sound was heard, and the light on top of the elevator lit up, indicating a new arrival.

Ding

The elevator doors barely opened before the soldiers opened fired into the small space. After a few seconds of firing, their clips were empty, and they paused to see who they executed. But the elevator was empty, not a soul in sight. Discord paused in his back stepping, to take a long gaze into the elevator. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a rifle clicking behind him, and his reflexes took over, as he dived behind on of the many stacks of money.

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG

From the far side of the room, near the door to a back room, AJ, Rachel, and Pinky opened fire upon the group of soldiers. Some members panicked, trying to dive for safety, while some died instantly from the shots. But after merely six seconds, the five best soldiers in Discord's elite troop had been murdered. Discord saw their bodies lying on the ground, and it angered him. It angered him so much that a group of completely inexperienced teenagers had somehow managed to kill his business, his acquaintances, and now, were about to kill him. It brought him to sheer rage. He waited for the girls to reload, before he pulled out his revolver, and stood up, walking out into the open. He started twirling his gun at a vigorous pace around his finger, and started to randomly pause and fire shots at the girls. AJ instructed them to get into cover. They did so, and Discord started to speak his anger more openly.

"YOU FUCKING SEE THIS?!" Discord shouted in hate. "DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! IT WAS ALL GOING PERFECTLY UNTIL YOU LITTLE BITCHES HAD TO SHOW UP AND FUCK ME OVER!"

Pinky reloaded and tried to get out of cover to take a shot, but she couldn't even peek her head out of cover, before Discord shot at her head with near perfect accuracy. Luckily, she managed to duck down before it hit her, saving her life.

"Well, I want you to see something!" Discord shouted, realizing his clip was empty. He reached into his pocket with his spare hand, and pulled out a set of six bullets. He twirled his revolver again, flipping open the chamber, and expertly reloaded his gun while performing fantastic tricks with his revolver. He flipped it in the air, and rolled it sideways, and despite the fact that he had nearly killed her, Pinky thought the tricks were actually pretty nifty, and made a mental note to practice it later, if she managed to survive. "This is the .45 Colt Revolver. This is the greatest fucking handgun in the world, far superior to the shit weapons you use, so I know I'm better than you are! And now, I'm going to kill you with it!"

Discord fired more shots at the girls, not being able to penetrate past the thick stacks of fiat money protecting them. Pinky pulled out a small handgun that she had picked up off of the floor, and tried to get a good glimpse of Discord's position. She went back into cover, and took a deep breath, knowing that her trajectory would have to be perfect in order to get her shot off. She aimed at the ceiling above her, which was covered in metal beams and support columns. With one shot, she fired at one of the beams. With fantastic precision, the bullet ricocheted off of the beam, bounced off of the floor, and then struck Discord in the hand.

He yelped in pain and the revolver fell out of his hand, which Pinky had planned to give her an extra second to get in a killing blow. But Discord had managed to catch the revolver in his right hand, and started firing without a moment's hesitation, once again. Pinky, now stuck again, realized her plan was a failure, at least in the sense that she had intended. But yet, AJ happened to notice that Pinky's plan had some sort of advantage. Discord was firing much more wildly, his right hand clearly not being his predominate one. Discord still had them pinned against cover, but she thought that at least they had a fighting chance.

Fuck, was all Discord could think. He was now sufficiently outmatched, and it angered him even more. He had the enemy right where he wanted them, but he couldn't even finish them off. He fired anyway, hoping to take someone down. But in his rage and intensive firing, he couldn't hear the rapid footsteps approaching him from behind.

"THIS IS FOR TARA, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Shlkk

Discord didn't even have time to turn around, before a sword passed straight through his arm. Cut off at his shoulder, his right arm fell to the ground, still clutching the revolver in its unmoving fingers. Discord stared in shock at his bloody stump of an arm, as Dash ferociously turned him around and head-butted him, knocking him out. Dash's face was contorted in rage, and she raised Tara's sword in the air, preparing a finishing blow. But AJ quickly ran over to the enraged girl, and grabbed onto her wrists.

"Dash, wait," AJ reasoned. "We need to keep him alive."

"Why?!" Dash snapped at her friend. "You saw what he's done! He's a psychopath! Tell me why he gets to live, while she doesn't?!"

"Because right now, he's the only link we have to The Unknown," AJ stated factually. "And he's far more valuable alive than he is dead."

Dash considered this, and then begrudgingly lowered her sword. She spat on Discord's face, as she walked away, disgusted by the sight of him.

By the time Discord finally woke, he found himself in a bad predicament. He was kneeling on the floor, his one remaining hand tied to the table. He thought he was going to bleed out, but one look around told him that it did not seem likely. He was being closely watched by all four girls, who, despite desperately wanting to make sure Tara was okay, were staring at him with great caution, making sure nothing happened to him, even somehow bandaging his bloody stump of an arm.

"What the fuck happened?" Discord asked groggily.

"You're our prisoner," AJ responded. "We're waiting for a control unit to pick you up, and deliver you to a safe location. You're too dangerous to be left on your own."

Discord chuckled at the very thought of being contained.

"That won't do any good," Discord smirked. "No matter what torture you put me through, you'll never get me to talk."

"You mean talk about the council that constantly treats you like a child?" AJ said back, making Discord's smile fade.

"Oh shit," Discord said under his breath. "Man, if The Unknown finds out about this…"

"Trust me, The Unknown isn't what you should be worrying about right now," Dash said, her words full of hate. The elevator light suddenly lit up, indicating someone was heading to this floor.

That's weird, AJ thought. The control unit can't have gotten here that fast.

"Besides, what's so threatening about The Unknown, anyhow?" Dash asked.

"Look, I'm a crazy fucking maniac," Discord said bluntly. "But that guy, I don't know what his deal is. No one does! He's got some crazy fucking agenda of his going on, but I don't know what he's thinking in that nutty little head of his."

"We'll see how honest ya being once we get you to a secure location," AJ said smugly, despite curiously wondering how the control unit could have arrived so quickly.

Ding

"That's them,' Rachel said, walking towards the elevator. The door opened, and she greeted the group happily. "Thank God, you're here. We've been-"

Rachel paused. She stared at the single person in the elevator. He was wearing all dark clothing, a set of black jeans, a black button-up shirt, and a black blazer. His dark shoes were fancy, and looked expensive. His suit-hat was dipped down on his head, and he had his hands clasped behind his back, as if he were an extremely important executive, looking down upon his subordinates. But what was truly scary was his lack of face. A white mask had been placed over his head, covering his entire face, neck, and hair with a white polyester. He had no means of identification, and Rachel just stared at him, a feeling of dread running through her.

Time seemed to stop.

Suddenly, he lashed out, striking her in the head with an elbow, and knocking her to the floor. He sprinted out of the elevator, and moved towards Discord with fantastic speed. Pinky stood in his way, and she raised her gun to fire. But he moved too fast, grabbing onto her gun and giving it a harsh tug in two places. The barrel slid off the grip, and Pinky's gun became worthless. The man grabbed onto Pinky's shoulder with one hand and her waist with another, and flipped her to the ground, all while never losing any momentum. Dash tried to attack, but he rolled towards her, ducking her punch before delivering a strong kick to the back of her left knee. She stumbled, and in this time, the man grabbed onto her face and forced her down like the others.

All that was left standing was AJ, but she was ready for anything this man had to offer. She readied a fighting stance, and when the right moment came, she lashed out a quick jab, intended on making the man roll out of the way. Except he didn't roll; he simply paused right out of the range of AJ's fingers, and grabbed onto her wrist. He stared at her for a moment.

An eerily calm moment, where neither of them moved.

And then, he stepped in closer, placed his hands on her shoulder and stomach, and pushed her to the side. With the four girls briefly incapacitated, he looked down upon the kneeling Discord. The man broke the bonds, before grabbing Discord by the collar of his shirt, and holding their faces close together.

"We're leaving," the man spoke harshly at Discord. Discord gulped in fear. The man threw Discord over his shoulder, and quickly moved to the largest stain-glass window. The girls struggled to get to their feet as the man paused, and slowly turned around.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Dash yelled at him. The man tipped his hat at the girls, a signal of a decent fight being fought.

"You know who I am," the man said without doubt. "Oh, and by the way, I want you to stop interfering. Now. Before I have to end any of you sooner than you deserve. And remember, fear The Unknown…"

The man placed himself against the window.

"…for I don't fear you."

CRASH

With that, the man jumped through the stain glass window, carrying him and a screaming Discord down three stories to the hard concrete below. AJ quickly rushed over to the window, and looked down. She knew the results of a three story fall, and she had no idea why this man would ever end his own life in this fashion. But, when she looked down, there were no bodies outside except the soldiers that Tara had earlier killed. She looked around for any sign of the two men, but there was none. They had simply vanished into the night.

__________

October 21th-October 22nd, 2015

Tara slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry; an endless haze made up her sight. All she saw was bright, blurry white, surrounding her in every direction. She tried to groggily look around, but she couldn't make out anything. Slowly, everything started to come back to her. Her hearing kicked in, and she heard a steady beeping noise. She began to make out walls, and a ceiling. A hospital. That was where she must have been. But she didn't understand why she was there. Suddenly, some of the memories came back to her. She remembered fighting Discord, then a gunshot, and then nothing else. With the memories, though, the pain suddenly kicked in as well. She groaned as an intense feeling of discomfort in her chest, and a horrible soreness in the rest of her body came to life. She tried turning her head, but the pain convinced her not to move.

"So you're finally awake," a voice came from beside her. Tara didn't need to see who spoke in order to recognize the southern accent of her friend.

"AJ?" Tara asked sleepily. "What happened?"

"Ya nearly died, that's what happened," AJ said, with great relief in her voice. "Ya got shot during the attack on the Imperial Chinese Restaurant. Bullet passed right through ya liver. It's a goddamn miracle that ya survived."

"Really?" Tara asked in disbelief. "How bad could it have been?"

"Bad enough that they performed surgery for twelve hours straight tryin' to repair ya," AJ said. "Ya really should have seen the girls during it all. I thought Fiona was going to go crazy waiting for ya. You must really mean a lot to that girl."

"You have no idea," Tara sighed. "So where are they now, anyway? It'd be nice to see them."

"Sent 'em back to Camelot," AJ stated. "Couldn't take 'em anymore. Too much worrying." Tara tried to sit up to talk to her friend, but more pain flowed through her, and AJ pushed her back down on the bed. "Whoa there. You've been out for three days. I don't think that any more sudden movements are a good idea."

Tara nodded in understanding.

"So when do I get to leave?" Tara wanted to know. It didn't make her feel comfortable that she was unconscious for three days straight, but it did explain her great weariness. Although she couldn't see it, AJ smiled at her.

"Well, I got Wilson to pull a few strings, so…" AJ said happily. "If you take it easy, we can get ya back to Camelot by tomorrow." Tara yawned and smiled, leaning deeper into her bed.

"That's nice," Tara said, very tired, closing her eyes. "I think I'll sleep for a bit now. Oh, and AJ, thanks for helping me out."

"I told you, Tara," AJ said. "Nothing bad would happen to you… except a shot in one of your vital organs." Tara giggled at the comment, before drifting back to sleep.

One day later, she was happy to find that she was allowed to leave the hospital. She and AJ left together, and despite a burning in Tara's chest every time she took a step, she felt really good. During the drive back to Camelot, AJ told Tara what happened after she was wounded. Discord's ramblings, Dash's retaliation, and The Unknown's arrival all attracted her attention. Tara patiently listened to the information, taking in the details. Before she knew it, they had arrived back at Camelot, and Tara slowly got out of the car to prevent more pain flowing through her. She walked into the Chinese restaurant, entered through the secret back door, and was immediately greeted with a tight hug from Fiona.

"Tara!" Fiona shouted happily, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around her friend. Tara laughed at Fiona's enthusiasm.

"Good to see you too, Fiona," Tara returned the hug. They hugged, and hugged some more, and soon, Tara realized that Fiona may have been hugging a little too much. "Uh…Fiona?"

Fiona immediately broke off the hug and backed away, blushing furiously and hiding her face underneath her hoodie. As Tara walked further into Camelot, she was also greeted by Pinky and Rachel, who each gave their own tight, if not somewhat uncomfortable, hugs to Tara. They each wanted to know how she was feeling, if she was alright, and so forth. Tara answered the best she could to all of the questions, although for most, she herself did not know the answers. Eventually, Tara realized the lack of one member of the group, and started to inquire information for herself.

"Hey, does anyone know where Dash is?" Tara asked to her friends.

"Oh, she's training," Rachel responded with a shrug. "I don't know why she didn't bother to welcome you back, though."

"Okay, thanks," Tara said, starting to walk towards the gymnasium. "I'm going to go speak to her." Fiona expressed concern, however.

"Do you need us to help you out?" Fiona nervously questioned. "You know, in case you two start fighting again?"

Tara shook her head.

"Nah, I think I got this," Tara stated with great confidence. She left the group, and made her way to the training area. When she arrived, she took notice of how empty it was, with the exception of one person in the far corner. Dash was working a sandbag with MMA gloves, moving around and punching it as hard as she could, yet never breaking a sweat. Tara moved slowly towards her, taking slow steps, to avoid hurting herself. She did reach Dash eventually, and although Dash never looked at Tara, she did acknowledge her.

"So, they finally let you out of the hospital," Dash said while letting out another punch. "Too fucking bad. I was really hoping that you're ruptured spleen, or whatever, would fucking make you bleed to death. Guess I got to wish harder next time."

"Hello, Dash," Tara smiled. She wasn't angered by the girl's comments, merely smiling her way through them.

"Jeez, you seem pretty fucking happy for someone who should be a corpse," Dash snickered. "What, did the doctor stroke you're fucking clit or something?"

"You know Dash, I don't think you're really this mean to people," Tara smirked. "I mean, how much of what you say do you actually mean?"

"Every last sentence," Dash stated, landing three more punches on the bag in time with her words.

"Really?" Tara asked, clearly not believing Dash's words. "Because I'm pretty sure AJ talked in great detail about, you know, how you went crazy when I got shot. How you attacked people like nuts because you couldn't handle the idea of me dying. And, something about, you know, cutting Discord's arm of in my honor."

Dash's fist landed against the bag, but she did not move further. Her eyes were wide, and she just stared at the sandbag before her. She sneered, and muttered to herself.

"Damn it, I told that cowgirl not to say anything about that," Dash said under her breath. She continued to stare at the bag, unsure of what to actually say. But Tara took hold of the moment, and suddenly grabbed onto Dash and gave her what she had never expected to give.

A hug.

A simple hug which took Dash by great surprise. Dash stared over Tara's shoulder as Tara continued the display of affection.

"You really do care, don't you, Dash?" Tara asked kindly. Dash had no idea how to respond. But finally, Dash sighed, and returned Tara's hug, even allowing herself to smile a little.

"Okay, okay," Dash said begrudgingly. "I'm glad you're not dead, Spark. That's the most you'll get out of me, so be fucking happy with it." Tara sighed as well, and broke off the hug.

"I'll take it," Tara said happily. "Good to see you too, Dash." Dash smirked, and went back to training.

"Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself," Dash responded. Tara smiled at the comment, and left Dash to train.

__________

"You failed us again," The Unknown stated with much disappointment. Discord groaned.

"Look, I got one fucking arm, cut me some slack," Discord said angrily.

"No," Sombra said with disdain. "We gave you a second chance, and you disappointed us yet again. It is over."

"What do you mean 'it is over'?" Discord asked. "You saved me from being captured by those fucking ladies. Doesn't that mean you want me to be a part of this council, or not?"

"The only reason I saved you was to make sure you didn't say anything else about us with that horrible intellect of yours," The Unknown angrily stated. "We don't want you, and we don't need you."

"But… whose gonna take out those bitches if I'm gone?" Discord tried to argue.

"Have you forgotten about me?" Moon suddenly asked. "I'm an assassin. I can eliminate the targets before this moron can spell 'assassination'."

"That's not fair!" Discord shouted. "I lost my entire business from working with you guys! You owe me!"

"Be lucky that we haven't killed you on the spot," Chrysalis said. "We've seen enough of you. Now, if you will, please get the fuck out."

"You…" Discord was furious. It was enough that he lost all of his resources, but to be rejected with the only people he wanted to be accepted by was too much for him. He growled at them, spitting out his words with venom. "You'll fucking see what I can do! I'll show you how great I can be. I'll end those little P.O.N.Y. motherfuckers, and then you'll beg for me to come back!"

"I very much doubt that," The Unknown stated with confidence. "Sombra, do the honors."

"With pleasure," Sombra said, standing up from his chair to approach Discord. Discord gulped as the large man walked up to him, cracking his knuckles with satisfaction.

The next thing Discord knew, he was lying face down in the pavement in the middle of the woods, with no idea of how to leave.

__________

Gukovo, Russia was home to one of the most infamous pubs in Russia, The Kings Pub. In the winter time, the interior was always kept warm by the hundred or so people crowded around, drinking and having a merry time. But alas, it was this time of year that the bar underwent many reservations, as it was the time that the Korbalov brothers came to drink, and take time off from their busy work. Of course, taking time off usually meant fighting as many people as possible, while breaking every stool and table in the area.

And thus, tonight another victim crashed through a table, as Yuri Korbalov, younger brother of Kristov, smirked at his triumph. Another man ran up to him, and smashed a stool over his back. But Yuri never even flinched, simply looking at the man with disappointment that such a move was even attempted. He readied a punch, but suddenly, his phone rang. He and the man both stared at his pocket, and then Yuri sighed. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and answered.

"Yes," Yuri said. "This is the Brothers of Chaos. What is request?"

"Uh, hello," the voice on the phone said. "I heard you and your brother are the best hitmen in the world."

"This is true," Yuri said.

"Well, I need a favor. See, I need help killing six little teenage girls in America."

"You can't kill a bunch of little girls?"

"They cut my fucking arm off!" the voice angrily shouted. "Can you do it or not?!"

"Yes, we can do it," Yuri smirked. "But it will cost money. Lots of money."

"I got millions of dollars," the voice said. "You can do whatever you want to do. Torture, rape, whatever."

"Got it," Yuri said. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," the voice said. "Tell them, 'By the command of Discord, go fuck yourself.' Got it, commie?"

"Yeah, Yeah, we understand," Yuri said happily. "Pleasure doing business."

The man Yuri was fighting tried to strike Yuri while he was distracted, but suddenly, a large, crimson fist penetrated through his chest, killing him. He fell to the ground, and Yuri saw his brother standing behind the body. Yuri smiled.

"Kristov, we've been hired."

Kristov nodded in understanding.

"Where?" Kristov asked as the two left the pub, much to the relief of many drinkers.

"America," Yuri stated. "We've got a job to do."

End of Chapter 4

Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare (Political Justice)

Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare

Part 1 of 2: Political Justice

November 1st, 2015

"Are you gonna keep jerking off, or are you going to fucking hit me already?" Dash taunted her opponent. Tara was breathing heavily, trying to keep focus through the horrible pain in her abdomen. Dash was staying light on her toes, never keeping her feet in one place as she bounced around the struggling girl. The girls were in the Camelot training chamber, sparring, as Fiona and AJ watched from afar. Dash stopped moving, and leaned forwards, hands clasped behind her back. She smiled brightly.

"Okay, I know this might be hard for you Spark, but I am going to stand completely still, and let you hit me in the face. You can land a hit, right? I mean, if hitting a nonmoving target at really fucking close range is too challenging…"

Tara let out a jab, trying to strike Dash square in the jaw. She didn't feel comfortable hitting her friends, but the taunting was starting to get a little excessive. Luckily, for Tara's moral standings, Dash suddenly moved out of the way, grabbing on to Tara's outstretched limb, and, using the girl's momentum, swung Tara to the ground. Tara groaned, clutching her side, and slowly rose to her feet.

Meanwhile, Fiona looked over at AJ. Fiona did not feel entirely comfortable watching the painful training, and she imagined that AJ would feel quite the same. But Fiona saw AJ watching intently, showing no remorse as Dash practically skipped around the wounded girl.

"Um, AJ," Fiona questioned. "Are you sure that-"

"Fiona," AJ said sternly, never taking her eyes off of the fighters. "If you ask me one more time about whether letting Dash take over Tara's physical therapy is a good idea, I swear to God I will lose my damn mind."

"Well," Fiona said shyly. "It's just that… I used to sometimes take care of wounded animals in my childhood. And they required a lot of tenderness to heal. And, well, Dash is sort of…"

"Jesus, Spark, you got to move faster than that!" Dash yelled as she bounced about "You suck so hard, I bet dicks are getting pulled at your face like a fucking vacuum cleaner!"

"Um… you know," Fiona said finishing her thoughts. AJ understood Fiona's concern, but she didn't budge, and continued to stare at the training ladies.

"Look, Dash may be crazy mean sometimes, but she is more fit than all of us," AJ explained. "I've been doing this for over a decade, but I have no idea what kind of crazy shit she does to get healthy. Whatever it is, we are on the hunt for a terrorist, and if pushing Tara like this is what Dash thinks will help most, then I'll let her do it."

Fiona sighed and continued watching the girls spar. Every time that Tara attempted to throw a punch, Dash would easily bound out of the way, and then insult Tara more. Tara knew that Dash didn't mean most of the things that she said, but they did drive her to do better, even if just to silence the annoying girl.

"Come on, Spark, where's your drive?" Dash asked. "I mean, think about it. You're trying to hit me. Think of all of the stuff I hate that you love. Society, the government, science, wizard shit. Fight harder, you wounded bitch." Tara was panting as she desperately tried to keep up with Dash. Her chest was killing her, and she felt like she was going to die.

"How (pant) are you (pant) not tired?" Tara asked, sinking to her knees and accepting defeat. Dash stopped bouncing on her toes, and came to a stop. Despite jumping around for at least ninety minutes, she had yet to break a sweat. Dash flashed a cocky grin, as she kneeled down beside Tara.

"Sorry, but my workout regimen is strictly confidential," Dash said. "Don't worry; I'm sure if this is too much, then you can just learn from Pinky. I mean, I hear crack really slims you down."

As if on cue, the door opened, and Pinky entered the room, her cheery disposition unwavering. Rachel walked behind her, although in stark contrast, her mood was anything but pleasant. Dash looked over and saw Rachel's disgruntled mood, and noticed her outfit might have caused it. Never in her life had Dash seen Rachel wear anything other than needlessly expensive and extravagant clothing, but today, she was wearing nothing but tan pants and a long sweater.

"Why do you look so bitchy?" Dash asked. Rachel groaned.

"I've been searching for days, but there is nothing!" Rachel exclaimed, clearly very frustrated. She pulled up the sleeve on her right arm, and revealed a long, ugly scar tracing its way up her arm, just past her bicep. "You would think there would be something I could use to cover this… this mess, but there's bugger all in this bloody city!"

"You could just wear, you know, a long-sleeve shirt," AJ suggested. Rachel gasped in great shock.

"A long-sleeve shirt?" Rachel questioned, offended that such an idea was brought up. "That's not fashionable at all! A lady of my stature shouldn't limit herself to such mediocre outfits. No, I must wear something glamorous, or wear nothing at all."

"Good, wear nothing," Dash snickered. "You please enough motherfuckers in this town as it is. Why not just strip it all off for 'em?" Tara reached over and smacked Dash in the arm, silencing the other girl.

"Didn't Pinky help you find anything?" Tara asked, finding enough energy to slowly rise to her feet. Pinky shook her head, although she never stopped smiling.

"Nope," Pinky explained. "I mean, there were lots of cute little outfits there, like shirts with pink bunnies, and pink ponies, and pink people, and pink tigers, and shirts that were just pink all over! But Rachel didn't want any of them."

"I can't wear pink clothes," Rachel said. She grabbed a lock of her own violet hair, and tugged on it, showing it off. "It would completely clash against this shade of violet." Pinky shrugged.

"But how could you not buy them anyway?" Pinky asked. "I mean, just to have. Even if you didn't wear them, you could have looked at them. And then, looking at them would make you want to wear them, but you'd be too busy looking at them to wear them, so you'd just look and wish and look and wish and look-"

"We get it, Pinky," Rachel rolled her eyes. "Anyway, enough about me. Tara, how's the recovery coming along?" Tara walked over to Fiona, and sat down beside her friend.

"Well, I don't feel like death when I move anymore," Tara said. "But I doubt I'm going to be back in the loop for a while. I still haven't been able to last more than a few minutes in a fight against someone; an hour most if I don't have to move that much."

"Well, you did nearly die," Rachel said. "I wouldn't expect much more."

"Yeah," Tara sighed, stretching out her arms. "But I wish I could do more. I mean, we haven't accomplished anything in almost two weeks weeks."

"That's cuz there aint been any trouble in the last two weeks," AJ claimed. "Discord's done and dealt with, crime's at the lowest point in years, and all is good. Besides, the rest of us could take care of any major threats that come our way."

"Yeah, we're bad-asses," Dash said. "Calm your tits, Spark."

Tara sighed again, taking some comfort out of her friends' words. It was rather true that the others were more than capable of handling themselves. In truth, Tara didn't really do much other than make sure everyone was well coordinated. But yet, it didn't make Tara feel a sense of ease. The fact that Discord got away really bothered her. Sure, he only had one arm left, from what she heard, but it didn't mean that he wasn't still dangerous. The last time they thought that the Smiling Dragons were finished off, they came back with a fury, and Tara did not feel safe knowing that psychopath was out there somewhere. It also didn't calm her that The Unknown was a completely real threat, and that he was able to take down their entire team without much effort. The fear of the threat drove her more, though. She was incredibly determined to make sure she was back out on the field of battle as soon as possible, even if that meant rushing out when not fully recovered.

Suddenly, the door to the training area swung open, and Wilson walked in, a serious look on his face.

"Ladies," the general stated with concern. "We have a major problem. We need you in the Briefing Room. Now." He walked back through the door, and the P.O.N.Y's followed suit. They walked down the long corridors of Camelot, before they arrived at the Briefing Room. Celestia was already there, hovering over a computer, fiddling around with the keys. She backed away from the computer when the girls entered, and pointed at the screen.

"Any of you recognize this man?" Celestia asked. Tara took a look at the monitor. A still image of a man in a blue suit, waving at a crowd of people, was frozen on the screen. He was middle-aged, with many wrinkles on his face as he forced a smile. His comb-over hair was graying, and his nose was rather too wide for his face, making his whole face look flattened out. It was actually a face that Tara had seen quite often from some of her late night high-school study sessions. During those days, she used to keep her TV tuned to the news, watching the politics and economic standards of America act as sufficient background noise for her work. But she tried to keep somewhat of attention on the actual programming (as she was, of course, able to divide her attention properly), and as such she knew this man instantly from many political deals and scandals.

"That's George Hammonick," Tara stated factually. "Head of WMH Enterprises, which is-"

"-the lead provider of petroleum fuel to the United States of America," Celestia finished Tara's thoughts. "Not to mention one of the richest men on the planet. Worth nearly 20 billion dollars."

"Damn," Dash said in astonishment. "That's a lot of fucking cash."

"That's not the point," Wilson joined in on the conversation. "Later today, he will be holding a press conference outside of the WMH Enterprises building to discuss some rather crucial business. Your assignment is to attend the press conference and add extra security, in case someone tries to assassinate him."

"Wait, hold up," AJ interrupted. "Why would someone want to kill this guy?"

"It's complicated," Celestia said. "A large series of political bullshit and angry taxpayers. Nothing unusual for an event like this." However, her answer did not satisfy AJ, who pressed on.

"That aint exactly answer my question," AJ said sternly. "If we are going to protect this guy, we should at least know why." Celestia sighed and looked at Wilson, as if asking him to explain everything. Wilson took a deep breath.

"Okay, here are the details," Wilson explained. "WMH Enterprises is the main source of natural fuel stemming from this country. The public believes they just sell more gas for pumping stations, but really, it's a lot worse. WMH Enterprises has been processing oxidized liquid fuel for the United States for years now, one of the only things used to power long range missiles."

"Like… nuclear?" AJ asked. Wilson nodded.

"Of course. The military has been privately contracting WMH to prevent them from outsourcing costs. The problem lies in this, however. About a week ago, it was leaked that the government was spending taxpayer money to privately fund WMH. A lot of people weren't happy with this, especially when they found out the hundreds of millions that were being spent to line Mr. Hammonick's pockets."

"So… he's a greedy corporate motherfucker?" Dash tried to confirm. "Just like every other rich asshole on Earth." Tara glared at Dash, who paid no mind to the girl's stares.

"Somewhat," Celestia chimed in. "Only when he wants to be. He has greatly helped this nation in supporting the defense program, but he also has had tendencies to fire people over race, religion, sexuality, etc."

"Um, isn't that illegal in this country?" Rachel questioned.

"Very," Celestia noted. "But every time a claim has been filed, his legal staff has shot it down. And if anything did get past, Mr. Hammonick would have the United States government on his side. With what he's got, he's practically untouchable."

"Anyway," Wilson stated, getting back to the original topic. "George's company has been under a lot of fire recently. It turns out people aren't happy when one of the most hated Americans is receiving half of your tax dollars, especially when they think the only thing he sells is 10% ethanol. So to pass off some of the heat, Mr. Hammonick is holding a press conference today to discuss outsourcing his products to other countries. And truthfully, we think he might do it."

"So your job has two portions, really," Celestia finished. "One: protect Mr. Hammonick from any crazed gunmen looking to make national headlines. And two: put his faith back in the United States of America. Hopefully, the security job you do will make him feel like the US still supports him."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Dash shook her head. "So you're telling me that the only reason we keep this asshole alive is so he can continue to rob people and launch fucking a-bombs?"

"In layman's terms, yes," Celestia said bluntly. A rather shocked feeling quickly spread among the girls. When put in a certain way, suddenly their motives became a lot more questionable. Dash raised her hand.

"Uh, follow up question," Dash requested. "Uh, let's see. How to put this… WHY ARE WE BOTHERING TO KEEP THIS FUCKER ALIVE, ANYWAY?!"

"Dawson, calm yourself," Wilson ordered. "We all agree that this is shady, low-brow business. But we need the resources that George Hammonick is offering. If he decides to outsource, there's no telling who will be able to buy this fuel. In this time of tension, the last thing we need is a group of terrorists in the middle east buying rocket fuel."

"Besides," Celestia added. "If he dies, then the company goes to his son, who has been looking to outsource materials for years. We can't let that happen." Yet Dash continued to protest, looking around to her squad mates for support.

"Come on, don't tell me everybody is okay with this," Dash questioned aloud. It seemed quite apparent to her through the downwards glances and uncomfortable tension that everyone in the room was not comfortable with their assignment. Dash even looked to Tara for support. Tara was deep in thought about whether to challenge the authority or not. She wasn't supportive of Hammonick's government funding, or the cruel firing of his workforce. But she did understand where Wilson and Celestia were coming from. There primary goal at P.O.N.Y was to stop terrorist threats, and if Hammonick started giving away rocket fuel uncontrollably, then it could lead to a major international issue. Reluctantly, Tara came to a conclusion.

"Alright, we'll get it done," Tara said, much to the surprise of her teammates. Tara turned to face them. "Look, odds are that his private security is going to take care of all threats anyway, so there's no reason not to show up and at least look like we are helping. Besides, there are too many factors to take in. we might as well follow the chain of command, even if we do somewhat disagree with it." Celestia smirked.

"Good," Celestia said, leaving the room along with General Wilson. "The press conference is at two-thirty. Protect that man with your life." As soon as the door closed, Dash immediately turned towards Tara in rage.

"What the fuck, Spark!" Dash shouted. "You don't really want to keep this prick alive do you?"

"Look, personal feelings shouldn't matter on an assignment," Tara stated. "I know you have trouble following orders, but I don't. If we're being told to protect this man, then there are probably good intentions behind it, even if it may not seem that way."

Dash groaned, and marched towards the door. She considered throwing out an insult or two, but her conscience got the better of her. Since Tara had been shot, Dash had been trying to be more cooperative than she was previously being. And if that meant having to save a corrupt business man's life, then she supposed she would have to suck it up and do the job. With another groan, Dash left the room, and went to lie down on her bed to think.

__________

It was with feelings of slight shame that the girls drove up to WMH Headquarters. The building was much taller than Tara had expected, seeming to tear though the sky. According to the original founder of WMH, William Mitchell Hammonick, the building was instructed to be built in Philadelphia rather than New York. It was William's belief that Philadelphia was a much safer place than New York City, yet he wanted to be close enough to the prime action of Wall Street, nonetheless. Because of its unnatural positioning, the WMH Headquarters towered over every other building in the area.

After taking a right turn through the main gates, they parked at a large parking complex, and exited their vehicles. Tara casually led the girls to the front of the building, where they were immediately halted by two large men in suits. The man on the left was dark-skinned and bald, a scowl permanently plastered on his face. The man on the left was incredibly pale, with buzzed red hair. They both had sunglasses on because of the bright weather, and they had earpieces on to communicate to their superiors.

"No one is allowed to enter the complex without strict higher authority," stated the guard on the left. Without any warning, Pinky jumped up right in his face, a look of intense frustration upon her.

"Do you know who we are?!" Pinky yelled at him. The man was briefly taken back by Pinky's sudden movement, but quickly readjusted himself.

"You are a group of teenagers," he said without emotion in his voice. Pinky quickly grabbed onto the collar of his suit, and pulled him down to her face, meeting his gaze with a deadly glare.

"No!" Pinky shouted. The other guard was so surprised by Pinky's hostility that he failed to react, simply watching Pinky slowly choke his partner with his own suit. "We are the teenagers. Don't you know how famous we are?! How crucial we are to everything?! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves! If I were you, I'd simply walk off into a desert somewhere and never come back!" Tara hastily placed her hand on Pinky's shoulder, removing her friend from the guard.

"I think that's enough, Pinky," Tara said calmly. She looked at the guard, who was now adjusting the collar of his suit, which had been shuffled out of place. "We're supposed to speak to someone named McCarther. General Wilson sent us. We're the extra guard."

The guard on the right looked skeptical, examining her appearance before stating,

"How do you know about General Wilson and the call for extra guard?"

"He told us to do it," AJ explained. She pulled a card of identification out of her pocket. "I'm Agent Balle. Me and my team here have been assigned to this mission by orders of the United States government." The guard looked at her ID, and with sudden realization, he looked back at the rest of the girls.

"Wait, you're the 'top-notch super soldiers' that Wilson sent us?" the guard stated in disbelief. AJ nodded. The guard was still quite stunned. "So, that means…"

"You were the crew who took down the Smiling Dragons," the other guard stated, his face never showing any hint of surprise. Tara rubbed the back of her head.

"Uh…yeah. Sorta," Tara said sheepishly. She did not expect to hear the news of their fight against Discord spread so rapidly. She didn't think anyone would actually know about. Yet, it seemed that Wilson added some extra information, in order to make sure Hammonick bought the idea of necessary security. The guard on the left bowed his head.

"My apologies," he said. "I didn't know what prestigious positions you held. If you would follow me, I can take you to McCarther."

The guard opened the door, allowing the girls to pass inside. On the way, Pinky made sure to glare at him, a warning never to mess with her again. But the guard took it with a shrug, as he and the other guard entered the building as well, and lead the girls through the main hall. The main hall itself was very elegant, showing off all of the money WMH Enterprises had earned over the years. The walls were painted gold, and a long violet carpet had been laid out to the end of the hall. A chandelier, about two and a half meters across, was hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the room in a dim, golden glow. To the right, many pictures of both William and George Hammonick lined the walls, engorged in size to demonstrate their power. Several were just portraits of the men, created to idolize them in history, while others were blown-up photographs of important business proceedings. On the far left, past a miniature model of a WMH oil rig, was a set of three elevators, and at the end of the hall was the receptionist desk. A young woman, whose brunette hair was tied back in a bun, greeted the guards as they made their way towards the elevators.

"Hello, Brutus. Tiny. Who are the visitors?" she asked. The red-haired guard hit the button near the elevator, calling for a ride.

"Important guests for Mr. McCarther," he responded.

"Okay, I'll call up and let him know that his guests have arrived," the receptionist said. As the elevator arrived and the group entered, they saw the receptionist pick up her phone and call up her boss. The door closed, and the gang moved upwards to the 27th floor, where McCarther was waiting. The ride was mostly in silence; the girls huddled in the back as the large guards stood by the door. Rachel attempted to break the ice, though, turning to the red-haired guard.

"So… why do they call you 'Tiny'?" Rachel asked. However, it was the other guard that responded, never looking away from the doors.

"Because some jackass thought it would be hilarious to give me that as a codename once I got rid of my old one," he explained. He said it with anger, yet he was still attempting to remain emotionless. The result sounded like a growl, and Rachel decided that it would be best not to ask any more questions.

"What was your old name?" Pinky suddenly spoke up. Rachel glared at her, but Pinky didn't understand the reason why. Luckily, instead of ripping Pinky in half (which, based on his stature, seemed possible), he simply let out a grunt.

"Thunderball," he said with disdain. Pinky giggled, which resulted in Rachel slapping her in the back of the head. Pinky winced and rubbed her wound, still looking at Rachel, confused. For the rest of the ride, no one spoke, and for this, Rachel was rather thankful.

The doors opened, and the girls stepped out into a very small hallway. It was only three meters in length, and it abruptly ended with two large wooden doors. Brutus gently rapped on the door, and after a few seconds, a clicking sound was heard, and the door was unlocked. Brutus opened the door, revealing an office, and an aging man walking towards his desk.

"Ah, come in, come in," the man said. The room was crowded with many trivial belongings, most of which had no purpose in an office. In the center of the room was a mahogany desk, stacked high with papers and files on all fronts. The desk barely had room to hold a computer system, that of which look like something from 2006. Behind the desk were glass panels, revealing the vast city in which they were. To the right was a set of golf clubs, and a miniature green, complete with a red and white flag sticking out of the hole. To the left, another desk, this time piled high with trophies, sports paraphernalia, pictures of family, and movie posters. The man, who was now believed to be McCarther, sat behind his desk and stretched. He was a short man, balding white hair pointed out at the side. Wrinkles covered his face. His suit, which had once seemed very formal, was now left mostly unbuttoned, and the sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. He spoke everything with a grin, as if he ran the entire world and nothing could ever change it.

"So, you gals are Wilson's soldiers?" McCarther asked, leaning his feet against the table. His voice was high and scratchy, as if something had been scraping against his throat for years. Tara stepped forward.

"Yes, sir," Tara spoke respectfully. "We are the extra protection that was requested for this afternoon." McCarther chuckled.

"Well, I can't say I expected such beautiful young ladies to do the job," McCarther spoke loudly, exaggerating all of his words. "I'm McCarther, Mr. Hammonick's top advisor. Pleasure to meet you."

McCarther reached across his desk, his open palm outstretched. Tara grabbed hold of his hand, and experienced one of the weakest handshakes she had ever known. Tara let go, and awkwardly took a step back.

"So, uh, what's the plan for today?" Tara asked. McCarther clasped his hands together, got up from his desk, and walked over to his golf clubs.

"Ah, it's really quite simple actually," McCarther stated, selectively choosing a club and a ball. "So, Ol' George-y is going to be standing right outside this building here at one, security guys on all sides of him. That's just in case some shmuck tries to smack him in the face." McCarther placed the ball on the green, and then removed the flag from the hole. "But see, our main concerns are either people in the crowd, or a sniper on the roof. That's where you girls come in. See, the large crowd is going to gather round in front of the building, and we're going to put you girls inside." McCarther took aim with his putter. "You'll act like your part of the civilians, but really, you'll keep a watch out for trouble. You'll get headsets to tell us if you see something weird. Someone on the roof, person with a gun, things like that."

"Wait," said Dash. "You do know who we are, right? We took out Discord. I even cut his damn arm off. But despite that, you're going to just hide us in the crowd?" McCarther swung his club, and the ball rolled down the green, just barely turning to the left and missing the hole.

"That's the plan!" McCarther said as he grabbed another ball. Dash crossed her arms.

"That 'plan' sounds real fucking stupid," Dash said. Tara glared at her.

"Dash, show the man some respect," Tara commanded. But McCarther simply laughed, placing the ball back on the green.

"Haha, I love when people challenge authority!" McCarther took another shot, this one curving ever so slightly to the left once more. "That takes guts! I like you, toots!"

"Toots?" Dash asked.

"Yeah!" McCarther grabbed another ball, placed it on the green, and too another swing. This time, the ball rolled smoothly down the green, falling right into the hole. "Look, I've been seeing people riot at these press things before. Trust me, it's not a big deal that you're here. Some people will call him a socialist, he'll announce some bullshit plan to use less oil, and then we'll be on our merry way. Nothing will go wrong, and even if something did, we got a shit ton of guards ready to take care of it. They'll be in the crowds, in the buildings, and pretty much everywhere else. Now, what's most important for you is after the press conference. You got to speak to George, and make sure he knows that the good old USA has got his back."

"So, you don't want him to outsource his resources either?" Tara asked. McCarther readied another swing.

"Holy Moses, no!" McCarther said, holding his chest. "You know what kind of money that would cost? Jesus H. Christ, it would be a disaster!"

"So you're just another greedy corporate jackass, then," Dash stated factually. Tara glared at her again.

"Rebecca…" Tara said with warning. But McCarther laughed once again.

"No, she's right!" McCarther laughed out. "I mean, everyone's a greedy bastard! But the only difference, toots, is that I have money to start with!" McCarther got another good shot off, as the ball once again rolled into the hole. "Look, all you gotta do is make sure Hammonick is happy, and all will be well and good. If you do your job right, it could mean big things for all of ya! Now, if you excuse me, I got a visitor coming up in fifteen minutes named Lucy Mai, and boy, is she something!"

McCarther motioned the girls out of the room, and awkwardly, they walked away from the grinning business man. They left the room, closing the door behind them, and then they were greeted by Brutus and Tiny. They re-entered the elevator, and started their descent downwards. The waited in silence, as the elevator crawled down to floor number three. The doors opened, and the girls found themselves faced with another small passage, this time leading to a single gray, steel door. The girls entered the room, while the guards waited by the door.

"Put your gear on," Tiny instructed, before shutting the door leaving the girls alone. They started to put on their gear, and now that they were alone, they began to quietly talk to one another.

"Man, that guy was creepy," Dash stated.

"You could have been a little nicer to him," Tara scolded. Dash grunted.

"No fucking way," Dash said. "You saw that guy. He seemed like someone who would try to rape me in an alleyway."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Fiona said softly, keeping her face hidden, from Dash, not wanting to look at her. "But I didn't like him much either."

"Yeah," Pinky said, not bothering to lower her tone much, despite those who could be listening. "He reminded me of weird Uncle Leonard. He always acted really strange around girls. I never got it. Actually, it's kind of funny. He always used to stare at them, but he made this weird face when doing it, and it was actually kind of funny-looking. Like this one time at my Bat mitzvah, I had one of my friend's there, and Uncle Leonard kept asking her to get in his car to help him find his keys, but I could see his keys in his hand, so I didn't know what he was talking about. Funny, I haven't actually seen Uncle Leonard since then. I wonder what he's doing now." Pinky was so caught up in her story that she didn't notice the disturbed stares she was receiving. She looked around and noticed her friends' faces, oblivious to their horrific thoughts. "What?" Pinky asked innocently. Rachel spoke up.

"Um, Pinky," Rachel said slowly. "I, uh, think your uncle might b-… wait, you're Jewish?"

"Look, that's not important right now," Tara interrupted. "What we have to focus now is getting our job done. We can talk about Pinky's creepy family later." Tara finished putting on her earpiece, and walked back to the door, while Pinky angrily huffed and crossed her arms over chest.

"My family's not creepy," Pinky muttered to herself, insulted. "Você quer dizer grande idiota."

__________

As the crowd of angry protesters surrounded WMH Headquarters, Tara took a deep breath. She had placed herself within the audience, surrounded by people holding signs and shouting out hate-filled words. They were positioned in front of a platform, where a podium was being placed. Security guards gathered around the platform, most of the men lined up in front, holding off the angry masses. Extra guards were gathered on the side steps to the platform, so that the entire section was sealed off from the public. Multiple cameras were set up close to the platform, with reporters getting ready to film the aftermath of the press conference. Tara looked around nervously, searching for any signs of trouble. While she did see many people holding signs, she spotted none holding any weapons. They were right inside of WMH property, after all, and anyone who did actually have a gun was most likely turned away at the gates. Tara looked above and behind herself, to the other buildings in the area. She once again did not see any suspicious activity, which did not surprise her either. And yet, despite seeing no apparent danger, Tara couldn't shake the intense feeling of paranoia out of her system. She attributed it to being undercover in amongst a group of very angry people, most of which were much larger than she was. She couldn't help but think about what would happen if they found out what she was doing. She knew that there was no way it could ever happen, but that didn't stop horrific images from seeping into her mind of what it would look like if it did. She imagined the protesters turning on her, attacking her, ripping her to pieces in a bout of unrelenting fury.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by soft words coming through her earpiece.

"Um, Tara… are you alright?" Tara heard Fiona ask. Tara shook the thoughts out of her head.

"Yeah, of course," Tara responded calmly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I can see you from where I'm positioned," Fiona explained. "And it looked like you were, you know, freaking out there for a minute." Tara rotated around; trying to spot Fiona through the crowd of people, yet her vision was blocked by the vast array of signs and arms flying about.

"I'm fine, Fiona," Tara insisted.

"You fucking better be," Tara heard Dash reply through the buzzing in her ear. Tara had briefly forgotten that everyone would be hearing their conversation, and momentarily felt slightly embarrassed by it. "I can see Hammonick coming now. Stay on the lookout."

True to Dash's word, Tara saw a group of security personal acting as an entourage for George Hammonick, as he approached the left side of the platform. He had his face was contorted into a scowl, giving off the feeling that he was incredibly annoyed by the entire ordeal. As he walked onto the platform, the volume of the crowd's boos and curses increased. George Hammonick paid no mind to the crowd, striding towards the podium with his head held high. He reached the podium, and pulled out a series of papers from under his arm, laying them out before him. He cleared his throat, knowing that what he said was being broadcast for all to see.

"Hello, my name is George Hammonick, CEO of William Mitchell Hammonick Enterprises," George stated. Immediately, he was met with boos from the crowd. "For the past forty years, our company has strived to guarantee that the finest oil possible is delivered to the public at the cheapest price. Recently, our company has come under fire from some 'inside sources', claiming that we are using taxpayer dollars to supply the United States military with fuel for use in ballistic and nuclear missiles. Well, today I am here to put an end to these rumors."

George paused, as numerous more screams erupted from the audience. Many disgraceful words were thrown about, and George tried to keep a straight face during the ordeal, not wanting to let his anger show.

"I am going to make this perfectly clear. The rumors that WMH Enterprises is supplying rocket fuel to the American military are false."

"You're a liar!"

Cries burst forth from the crowd. George continued talking over them, trying to keep his cool.

"The rumors that we are stealing from the public are nothing but lies, as well!" George now stated more forcefully. The security guards ordered the crowd to quiet down. "This entire backwashed scheme that has been constructed is nothing more than our competitors trying to tear us apart. But once checked into reality, it makes no sense. Our company releases records of our products, and nowhere does it ever state that we produce rocket fuel. And while we are on the topic, it is ridiculous to assume that we at WMH Enterprises make our money from collecting taxes. We are good, honest people working for a good honest cause!"

Still, the crowd remained unconvinced. A group of people stared to chant about showing peace and love. One man shouted out hatred for the liberal media, and a woman shouted out that George Hammonick should be lynched. Despite all of this commotion, George continued his speech.

"Now, one thing that is true is our limited outsourcing to other countries," George said truthfully, and because of this, the cries died down. "And we have received quite a cry from the public to change our ways. So, after months of consideration, we at WMH Enterprises have decided to outsource our natural fuel to other nations in the world." The clamoring from the crowd stopped, and some people actually calmed down very much. Tara heard people speaking through her earpiece.

"Is he really going to start selling off resources to other countries?" Rachel asked.

"I doubt it," AJ replied. "It's just somethin' to win over the crowd. Get rid of some controversy. A few false reports, and the public will never know."

Suddenly, a cry rang forth throughout the crowd.

"He's lying!" An angry man shouted. "It's just more lies fed to us to keep us in place!" With that, the crowd grew loud again, continuing to burst forth with rage. George Hammonick watched as the people started to turn against him once more. He opened his mouth to say something, when something unexpected happened.

His head exploded.

Everyone stopped their protesting, and watched as bits of George's skull fell to the floor. No gunshot was ever heard, and no killer was ever spotted. All that happened was that time slowed down, as George's blood rained down upon the audience.

And at that moment, from over a mile away, looking through the scope of a sniper rifle, a raven-haired, pale skinned assassin smiled, as the crowd burst out into panic.

The people ran and screamed as the body of George Hammonick fell to the ground. Some security guards ran over to his body, while others tried to calm the crowd down. Tara found herself lost among the swarm of protestors, and felt many people knock into her, causing her to nearly lose her balance and fall over. As Tara tried to avoid being trampled to death, she heard confused cries coming through her earpiece.

"What the hell is going on?" Rachel shouted over the panic.

"Someone in this crowd must have had a weapon," Dash explained. Through the chaos, Tara saw Dash several yards away, pushing through the crowd towards the main gates, where people were swarming out of the area. "We have to stop them!" As Dash shoved her way along, knocking several protestors over, Tara noticed AJ pushing her way to the platform. AJ quietly slipped through the crowd, and hopped onto the platform. None of the guards took notice of her, which gave her the easy chance to hop behind the podium. AJ carefully looked around. She didn't know why, but she didn't think anyone in the crowd was the executor. Even with the intense shouting of the crowd, AJ would know the sound of a gunshot instantly. Yet, she heard none, which meant one of two things.

It was possible some form of poison was fed into George's system, which triggered a cataclysmic rupturing of his brain. But as far as AJ knew, that didn't exist, which meant that the second (and worse) choice was more likely. AJ looked at the podium carefully, calculating in her head the trajectory from the nearby buildings to where George was standing. After being fairly certain her math was accurate, AJ walked about three meters behind the podium. AJ was looking for a dark impact mark on the ground, but she couldn't find anything. She lined herself up directly with the closest buildings, holding her arm out to make sure she was exact. AJ looked around, scanning the ground as precisely as possible, and yet, there was no indication of any sort of impact.

But suddenly, something caught her eye. Another ten yards back from the podium, AJ spotted some irregularity on the ground. Running up to it, AJ finally found what she was looking for. A deep incision was placed in the ground, leaving a black smear across the pavement, gravel kicked up beside it. And then AJ noticed something else about the black smear. Right in the center of the impact, an image was faintly visible through the charred ground. And with shock, AJ recognized the insignia.

An image of a raven's skeleton was visible in the impact zone. AJ was abruptly brought out of her stupor when she heard buzzing deep in her ear.

"AJ, where are you?" Tara was calling out. "It's chaos out here. We need help controlling this crowd."

BANG BANG BANG

Suddenly, more shots rang out throughout the crowd, this time near the front gates. AJ quickly took out her weapon, and ran up onto the platform to see what was happening. However, AJ was surprised to see none other than Dash standing by the gate, shooting her pistol into the air.

"EVERYONE, STOP!" Dash was shouting to the crowd. "THIS IS A CRIME SCENE! NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO LEAVE! IF YOU REFUSE TO LISTEN, I WILL-" However, Dash was cut off when she felt Tara place her hand upon her shoulder and spin her around.

"What are you doing?!" Tara demanded to know. "You can't just threaten a hundred innocent people like that!"

"How do we know there innocent?" Dash retorted. "You saw what happened. Our contract failed! And one of these people has to be responsible."

"Calm down, Dash," Tara instructed. "You're certainly not helping the situation."

"What if one of the guys who left here was the killer?" Dash spoke defensively.

"I don't think that'll be the case, Dash," AJ suddenly said, pushing her way to the girls through the dimming crowd. "I think I know who the killer is."

"Well, who is it?" Tara asked instinctively. AJ shook her head.

"That's the thing," AJ said with concern in her voice. "If I'm right about this, then her name is the last thing you want to know."

__________

The mood at Camelot was rather somber. It wasn't uncommon for the girls to be feeling some sense of failure after a mission, but this was unlike anything they had felt before, for there was no visible source to direct their anger to. The Briefing Room wasn't filled with silence however, as three men were researching on several monitors throughput the room. AJ was trying to explain her theory to Wilson and Celestia, but they seemed doubtful.

"I'm telling ya," AJ said with confidence. "I saw the raven in the bullet shell. It has to be her."

"Let me get this straight," Wilson said. "You believe that Melanie Moon killed George Hammonick today, and the only proof you have of this was her insignia in a bullet imprint." AJ nodded.

"Look, AJ," Celestia sighed. "It's not like we don't trust you. Your expertise is substantial. But I severely doubt that Melanie Moon could even be in America, let alone kill one of the most important men in the world."

"Um, excuse me, but…" Fiona softly interjected. "Who is Melanie Moon?" Fiona, after drawing the attention of the crowd, covered her face in embarrassment. Celestia crossed her arms.

"Do you remember that political uprising in Germany a about seven years back?" Celestia asked. "Where several of the wealthiest men in Germany tried to monopolize the government. The girls looked at each other, and then collectively shook their heads and shrugged. "Of course you don't. But you probably remember a series of freak accidents where several wealthy executive class citizens died, right?"

Although most girls looked confused, Tara recalled something similar she heard on the news many years ago, about a rich man dying in a car crash, the results of which were so graphic that the images could not be shown.

"I think I remember that," Tara said, recalling more events. "I didn't really pay much attention to it, but I do remember that some people thought it was a curse on the upper class."

"Somewhat so, yes," Wilson said, turning to one of the men on a computer. "Bring up an image of Melanie Moon." Quickly following the order, the man rushed to pull up the only known image of the woman, as Wilson continued to explain. "See, a long while back, probably before you were even born, a German-born assassin named Melanie Moon started to sell her experience to the highest bidder. She made herself prominent during the Algerian Civil War, where she worked for the GIA to assassinate several prominent targets."

"So… she's a hit man," Dash summarized. Wilson shook his head.

"No, she's much, much worse than that," Wilson said. At this time, the image was found, and was quickly brought up on the large screen. It was a mug shot, although one of the most terrifying ones that Tara had ever seen.

Melanie Moon had hair that was blacker than night, and it ran down past her waist. Her skin was nearly pure white, so much so that, coupled with her bony structure, Moon looked more like a ghost than an actual person. On the left side of her neck, a tattoo of a raven was gazing up to her face, looking to her for guidance. Her right arm was covered with self-inflicted injuries, although they were not in a particularly good position if Moon had actually wished to kill herself. Taking another look at her arm, Tara suddenly understood what they were: tally marks. The markings Moon gave herself for every human life she ended. Countless groups of five ran down both sides of her arm, shoulder to wrist, cutting off at Moon's gloved hand.

And then, Tara saw her eyes. Her eyes were shaded dark, no matter how much light would be shown upon them, and two icy blue pupils stared back at Tara. If she hadn't known any better, Tara would say that Moon was piercing through her body with her gaze, looking right through her soul.

"T-that's Melanie Moon?" Tara said, trying to hide her feeling of discomfort from staring at Moon's image. Celestia nodded.

"I know, lovely, right?" Celestia remarked sarcastically. "Moon made a name for herself in the way her victims died. She became infamous because the enemy never knew she had been watching them until they were already dead. She stalked the target without ever having to move from her vantage point. The fear she spread through Algeria was legendary. So much so, they gave her the nickname of 'Living Nightmare'. Her kill count was easily over a hundred."

"It was her weapon that carried her," Wilson explained. "Moon designed herself a .75 caliber sniper rifle; the most powerful long range weapon ever devised. She could easily take out foes from two miles away. It caused devastating to the victim if they were hit. And Moon has never been known to miss her targets."

"Not to mention," interrupted AJ. "That her custom designed shells were made to separate after impact, leaving behind her insignia, so all would know she was there. Therefore, it seems pretty obvious to me that Moon was the one who killed George Hammonick today."

"Except for the one glaring flaw in that theory," Celestia stated.

"What is it?" Tara asked.

"After the assassinations in Germany, the government got worried that if the public found out they hired Melanie Moon, a huge blow to their reputation would be dealt," Celestia explained. "They called the U.S. government, and we worked out a deal. We supplied them with details about Moon's history, and a few weeks later, they arrested the Living Nightmare on account of war crimes. She's been in jail for the past seven years, and will remain there for life."

"In fact, she was placed in solitary confinement," Wilson explained. "She was viewed as a danger to other inmates, and as such they have a security camera keep watch on her at all times. If she takes a piss, we'll know about. There is no conceivable way that Moon could be in Philadelphia."

AJ groaned.

"I know what I saw," AJ said with determination. "No one else could pull off a kill like that. The entire surrounding area was checked, and no one was found with a weapon. It had to be her."

"Look, AJ, your eyes must have been mistaken," Celestia said firmly. "We are just as baffled by this whole thing as you are. We need to find the killer fast. Already, ownership of the country has shifted to George Hammonick's son, and he is in talks of outsourcing fuel. We cannot maintain the same kind of dominance if he thinks that we couldn't save George."

"Are you kidding me?" Dash suddenly spoke up. "We got a crazed assassin on the loose, and all you're thinking about is money?!"

"First of all, Moon is not 'on the loose'," Celestia said. "And second of all, this is a major problem for all of us, not just America. By the way, Rebecca, from what I've heard, you fired shots into a crowd of protesters earlier today."

"Yeah," Dash said with pride. Rachel, who hadn't heard of this, gasped.

"You fried shots at people?" Rachel said in disbelief.

"I thought the killer could've been there," Dash said, excusing herself of the vanity of the act. "I needed to get everyone under control. It made perfect sense at the time."

"It was completely unreasonable," Wilson scolded. "We certainly don't approve of shooting innocent civilians, even if one may have been a criminal. I should dismiss you from this operation right now."

"Go ahead," Dash taunted. "Do it." Tara looked at Dash, somewhat concerned.

"Dash, don't tempt them…" Tara warned. However, Wilson dismissed Tara's concerned with a wave of his hand.

"Don't worry," Wilson said. "Dawson is too valuable of an asset to let go of. Besides, I got a call from McCarther. It seems like he was very impressed with your dedication today. He said something about offering you a guard job for tomorrow night."

Naturally, Tara and Dash were both very shocked to hear this, and both replied with disdain.

"She's getting rewarded for this kind of behavior?" Tara said, disapprovingly. "I can't believe it! What kind of sicko would ever hire her?"

"You know, I actually kind of agree with Spark on this one," Dash said angrily. "That guy looked like he wanted to have his way with me. And honestly, I don't feel like getting that asshole's cock shoved down my throat tomorrow night. Tell him that I pass."

"Too late," Celestia said. "We already told him that you accepted the job."

"WHAT?!" Dash yelled furiously. "Why would you ever do that?!"

"Because we still need people on the inside," Wilson stated. "If we find out what the inner thoughts of WMH Enterprises are, then we can better plan ahead. If we can send advice through the top adviser of the company, it will leave a massive impact."

"Consider it punishment for attacking the crowd," Celestia said, unable to contain her smirk. "You are dismissed."

Dash growled, and angrily marched out of the room. The others followed her, making sure to stay a few steps back as they walked to their sleeping quarters.

Can't believe those fucking motherfuckers, Dash thought to herself. She wasn't exaggerating when she stated that McCarther creeped her out, which it took a lot to do. She couldn't shake the feeling that if she got left alone with that man, she would wake up naked in an alley way, or would find herself strapped to the tracks as a train was coming. It disturbed her that McCarther had complimented her in such a creepy fashion. "Toots" was the worst thing she had ever heard come out of an old person's mouth. She had a notion of seeing people for the worse, and all she saw in McCarther was a court case waiting to happen. Dash entered the sleeping quarters, and lied down on her bunk. She heard someone enter behind her, but didn't bother to see who it was.

"You know that nothing bad will happen tomorrow night," Dash heard Tara assuring her from behind.

"I can't believe they would send me to that creepy dick," Dash complained into her pillow.

"You need to trust Wilson with this," Tara suggested. "I'm sure he wouldn't put your life in any real danger."

"We fight terrorists, Spark," Dash groaned. "We're already in danger. A little more risk wouldn't do much to his conscience." Dash sighed into her pillow. "I don't trust authority much. All they ever seem to do is screw people over."

"Well, if you want my advice," Tara said. "Maybe you should try to be a little more trusting of others."

"And if you want my advice," Dash sneered. "Then I suggest you go slit your wrists. I'm not really interested in hearing your pro-authority speeches right now. Just leave me alone." Tara sighed.

"Fine," Tara said in defeat. "I thought it would be nice to try and calm you down a little; but clearly, you just want to be alone. And since I am trying to be your friend, I will respect that."

"Thank you," Dash said sarcastically. "Just don't forget to cut vertically. Trust me when I say that is a lot more efficient."

Tara walked out of the room, leaving Dash to lie on her bed. Tara was trying hard to improve her relationship with Dash. She had hoped that getting Dash to talk about her concerns would make the girl open up more, but clearly, Dash was still upset about Tara's disapproval of her behavior. Tara hoped that after Dash finished her job for McCarther, or after they found Hammonick's murderer, that Dash would finally take some steps forward in her trusting of others.

But as for now, it looked like Dash was going to continue down her path of fighting against the wishes of others, and Tara hoped that Dash would at least handle herself decently the next night.

__________

November 2nd, 2015

On the night of November 2nd, P.O.N.Y put two plans into motion. The first of which was Dash's job, which she could not say she was excited for. Granted, she had no idea what the job entailed, but she knew that if it was spent around McCarther, she would hate it. For her assignment, Dash had been requested something to make her mission at least a little more enjoyable. Dash didn't know how, but she had convinced Wilson to give her a small present during the ride over to WMH Enterprises. Dash smiled, briefly taking her eyes off the road to look at her crimson motorcycle, as she revved down empty streets. Dash had never actually rode a motorcycle before, but with some decent acting, she managed to convince Wilson to fork over the chopper to her for the night. Dash didn't even know if P.O.N.Y had a motorcycle in their inventory. She knew that they kept a large number of vehicles hidden around Wu Song's, but she could have only dreamed of something like this happening. Dash's brain was telling her to take her time, and make the ride last as long as possible. But Dash's instinct kept telling her that 60 miles per hour wasn't nearly fast enough, and Dash was always much more prone to listen to her instincts. Dash rode the bike as if she had done it every day of her life, expertly weaving around the occasional incoming traffic, and making sharp turns with ease. Dash's own desires got the better of her in the end, as she pulled up to WMH Enterprises much sooner than she would have actually liked to. Dash sighed reluctantly, and got off her bike, removing her helmet and placing it on one of the handles. She took slow steps toward the building, savoring every extra minute that she wasted outside. After slowing down to the point that it was physically uncomfortable, her feet finally managed to carry her through the front gate, and to the large double doors of the entrance, where Tiny and Brutus awaited. Tiny sneered as Dash approached.

"Took your time getting through the gate, I see," Tiny remarked. Dash spat on the ground, and then snorted.

"Blow me," Dash said in retaliation. "So, you fuckers gonna let me through, or what?"

Tiny sighed at Dash's lack of respect, and then he and Brutus opened the door. Dash once again walked through the halls of WMH Enterprises, noticing that much had not changed overnight. The paintings, plants, and chandelier were all the same. The only difference that Dash noticed was that the receptionist was much more somber than she was the other day. The three of them walked to the elevator, and then started their ascent to floor 27.

Dash couldn't help but notice that Tiny never seemed to have any sort of emotion during his work, which to Dash seemed like he wasn't enjoying himself. She was rather bored, and she was sure that he wouldn't mind the conversation, so Dash tried to put on her best "Pinky attitude", and tried to make the elevator ride more enjoyable for everyone.

"So, just out of curiosity," Dash said. "Are you guys like, lovers, or something? Cuz I'm sensing a lot of sexual frustration between you two.

"Humph," was all that Tiny said, continuing to stare at the doors.

"I don't know why," Dash continued. "But I'm getting the feeling that he's the quarterback, and you're the receiver. I'm right, right. Or do you just, like alternate every night? Is it like, you go down on him, or…"

"Stop talking," Tiny said with little emotion. Dash smiled.

"It's totally that, isn't it?" Dash smirked. "I don't know why you're so tense about it. We can all get married in this state. You don't just have to jerk each other off in a K-Mart bathroom, you know." The elevator came to a halt, and Dash strode with pride out of the doors. She put her hand on the door, before turning back to the guards. "Try not to still be blowing each other when I come back out, you here? I really don't feel like being part of an orgy tonight."

Dash walked through the doors, and found herself alone in the office with McCarther. The man of concern was sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone and remaining unaware of Dash's presence.

"No, let your people talk to my people," McCarther said. He suddenly Dash standing in the room with him, looking rather annoyed to be there. "I'll call you back, Davie." McCarther hung up the phone, and rose up from his seat. For someone who had recently lost one of his closest friends, he didn't seem to Dash like he was grieving. From what Dash saw, he looked almost glad.

"Glad you could come, toots," McCarther said happily. Dash groaned.

"Yeah, whatever," Dash rolled her eyes. "What do I have to do?" McCarther clasped his hands together.

"Oh, we'll be having so much fun tonight," McCarther assured. He pointed over to his paraphernalia-stacked desk, where a neatly-folded suit was laid about. "First, put that on. You got to look the part." Dash reluctantly walked over to the desk, and looked at the suit. It was a black business suit, and it looked like it had been tailored to fit her perfectly. Dash wasn't entirely enthusiastic about wearing such an outfit. She felt like if she were to put it on, she would become the very corporate business type she always hated. Yet she found that she didn't really have much of a choice. She had a job to do, and she supposed that she would have to play along with whatever McCarther wanted for now. And, in afterthought, Dash at least found comfort that at least she wasn't forced to dress like a catholic schoolgirl, or some sexy nurse. If that had been the case, then she would have thrown herself out of the window without a second thought. But now, as she was thinking of other perverse things she could have been doing, she realized that she had nowhere to change. She looked back at McCarther, who was sitting calmly at his desk, staring at the monitor.

"Hey, cock bite," Dash called out. "Where am I supposed to change?" McCarther seemed relatively uninterested.

"Just change wherever," McCarther said with a brief wave of his hand. "I aint looking."

Dash shuddered at the response. She didn't believe McCarther for a minute, and had the horrible thoughts of him watching her change. It genuinely creeped her out to even think of it. Still, she did have to get changed. She groaned again, and took off her white sneakers that she had worn into over three years. She placed them aside, and, while keeping a close eye on McCarther, pulled the suit over her own clothes. The suit felt uncomfortable pressing against her clothing, and it reminded her why she never wore the outfits in the first place. After her suit was put on, she slipped back on her white sneakers, and Mccarther rose from his desk.

"So, you ready to have some fun tonight?" McCarther asked excitedly.

"Ab-so-lutley!" Dash replied sarcastically with a fake grin.

"Great!" said McCarther, not picking up on the sarcasm. The two left the office, passing by Tiny and Brutus, who had not moved. They immediately entered the elevator with McCarther and Dash, and the doors closed, as the elevator descended.

"So…" Dash said, shifting in place. "Where exactly are we going?" Nobody responded, however. The guards continued to stand perfectly still, while McCarther was practically bouncing up and down in excitement. He was too engulfed in his joy to pay attention to Dash, and she rolled her eyes. "Fine, be a prick."

"Show Mr. McCarther respect," Tiny commanded without ever looking back at Dash.

"Suck my dick," Dash retorted. "It's not like something you've never done before."

Tiny groaned as the doors opened, and the four of them walked back out through the lobby. Outside, a black limousine was waiting for them, the back door already opened. A man waited by the door, and welcomed the group into the limousine. As she entered, Dash was actually amazed by what was able to fit in such a small area. Multiple television screens, a full wine shelter, and what appeared to be a shrimp bar were present inside the back of the limousine. Dash took a seat on one of the chairs, and instantly sank into it. She didn't bother to try and stay formal, opting instead to relax into the chair, and let out a deep sigh. Dash was a very big fan of self-enjoyment, and she intended to make her beliefs well-outspoken. She reached over, and grabbed a shrimp. Without a moment's hesitation, she popped it into her mouth, happy to note that it had already been peeled of its outer layers.

"Like that?" McCarther asked joyfully, taking a seat. "That's freshly imported shrimp from the coast of Maine. Great stuff! We fill the car up with it when I decide to go out." Dash's mood immediately damped once McCarther spoke.

Oh, right, Dash unhappily thought. I have to work with this guy. So much for enjoying myself.

And then, Dash popped another shrimp into her mouth anyway, realizing that, despite the awful feeling she had that it was designed to poison her, it was still rather good shrimp.

__________

During this night, a two part plan developed by P.O.N.Y. was put into effect. As Dash was busy working with McCarther, the other five girls were in charge of investigating the murder of George Hammonick. This is how Tara found herself sitting in the back of a van, as AJ drove to the morgue, where Hammonick's body was being held. It wasn't a long drive, and Pinky at least kept her consistency of trying to keep car rides interesting by telling long stories over their duration. Soon, the girls pulled up to a small, brick building, which was left empty overnight. The van slowly pulled through the parking lot, which was completely abandoned. Despite the fact that one of the most famous corpses was currently resting here, it seemed no one cared much for what dead men did at night. Tara was actually quite surprised by this. It seemed to her that someone from WMH Enterprises would watch over the building, or at the least some basic policemen. But no one was there. As the girls exited the van, Tara still instructed them to be cautious of any threats. They walked to the side entrance, keeping a lookout for any guards they might have missed.

"AJ, are you sure you can identify this?" Tara asked quietly. AJ nodded.

"The bullet passed straight through Hammonick's skull," AJ explained to the girls once again. "The actual bullet was buried too deep in the ground for me to get. But a projectile traveling at that power would have left some sort of mark on the target. All I need is to get my hands on a piece of George's skull, and then I think I can get a sample of DNA." AJ approached the side entrance, as predicted, the door was locked. "Rachel, give me the hairpins."

"Got it," Rachel replied, taking two of her pins out of her hair, causing her violet locks to fall down past her shoulders. She gave the pins to AJ. AJ kneeled down, placing the pin within the keyhole, and after a few seconds of careful turning, a click was heard, and the door became unlocked. AJ pushed the doors open, and the girls entered the dark hallways of the morgue. There was no light switch, leaving the girls to wander around in the darkness. Luckily, AJ came prepared, taking a flashlight out of her pocket.

The girls moved hesitantly forward, a feeling of unease slowly descending upon them. Perhaps it was the sensation of being surrounded with corpses that shook their nerves, or perhaps it was the fact that they were trespassing in place that was normally heavily guarded by police. Either way, it seemed that only AJ was not shaken by their presence in the morgue. Pinky did not appear nervous either, but Tara attested that more to Pinky's overwhelming cheerful nature, not an actual testament of the girl's feelings. Fiona, in particular, seemed the most frightened, huddling rather close to the center of the group, and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Rachel looked around cautiously for any breaks in the hall, which occupied enough of her attention to make her forget that she was stuck in a building with rotting sacks of human flesh. Tara wished she had a weapon. Of course, she did keep her sword in the trunk of the car, but the group had been instructed to leave all weapons in the van. If they would have been caught by police while sneaking in, the last thing they would want to be caught with were guns.

As he girls walked further down the halls, AJ checked in each room they passed. The first two rooms on the left were office spaces. The next one on the right was a door to the main entrance. AJ shined her flashlight into the next room on her left, and smirked.

"Here we go," AJ said as she entered the room, turning on the light. She entered a small gray room, white tiles covering the walls. In the center of the room was a gray table, two meters in length. On the table were two black bags. The first was human-shaped, and a zipper lined the top of it, which was partially opened. Inside the bag, the body of George Hammonick was visible. AJ examined the body, as the rest of the girls entered the room. Rachel turned her head away from the body, covering her mouth and nose.

"Jesus Christ, that smells rancid," Rachel said in disgust. Tara walked up to the table, and picked up the other bag, which was no bigger than her own head. She looked inside, and then frowned.

"Ugh," Tara said distastefully. "Hey AJ, I think this is what you need to be looking at. Tara handed the bag over to AJ. AJ emptied the bag's components onto the table. Bits and pieces of George Hammonick's head flopped on the table, which disturbed Rachel so much that she had to leave the room.

"That's revolting," Rachel moaned. AJ started to search through the pieces of skull flesh.

"Haven't ya killed people before?" AJ asked, confused. Rachel didn't turn back to AJ when she responded.

"That's different," Rachel explained. "I killed gang members. I didn't play around with their corpses afterwards."

"I aint playing," AJ grunted. "I'm looking for-… wait! I got it!"

AJ triumphantly held up a crescent shaped piece of skull. On the outside, blood had caked into the skin, staining it red. The inside looked the same, except for one notable detail: a black smudge on the inside of the skull.

"Great," AJ said happily. "Once we get back to Camelot, we can run a DNA test on this sucker. Hopefully, it still has traces of the killer's fingerprints from when they loaded the bullet into the clip. Now all we gotta do is get out of here."

"Finally," Fiona said with relief. "This place scares me."

"I concur," Rachel said. "I think I'm going to be sick."

AJ replaced the other pieces of brain matter back into the bag, and then shut off the light once she reentered the hall. If all went well, no one would ever even know that the girls were there. AJ turned back in her flashlight as they walked back to the side entrance. For once, Tara realized, their mission had been a complete success. They accomplished their goal rather efficiently, and they didn't run into any trouble. Tara was very thankful that she didn't have to put any more strain on her already-aching body, and was looking forward to getting back to Camelot. Tara considered taking a shower when she got back, to wash away the smell of rotting flesh. The girls reached the side entrance, and AJ opened the door.

"Okay, now let's see if I can lock this thing back up," AJ said as she walked outside. As Tara watched her leave, a sudden sense of panic rushed over her. Tara didn't know why though, as everything seemed alright. The streets were quiet, there were no guards, and they were surrounded by plenty tall buildings, enclosing them from any threats.

But perhaps, Tara realized, that was the problem. Everything was too quiet; so much so that it felt like the area had been abandoned. The tall buildings didn't give Tara any sort of safe feeling either. For example, the ten-story building directly across from the side entrance. In its many floors, most of the lights were turned on, meaning that plenty of people were around if something were to happen. But Tara had the horrible sense the people were actually watching them, staring out there windows to watch the next horrible atrocities occur. Tara wondered why some of the lights were so bright, while others so dim. It seemed trivial, but it didn't feel trivial. In fact, it made Tara fell even more uneasy. In fact, one light stood out to her. It was a small flash, and only briefly appeared when glimpsed at from the right angle. But Tara spotted it with her peripheral vision, and now found herself trying to focus on it. What was it? Tara didn't know, but it looked like it was meant to be seen from the exact point Tara was standing. In fact, it looked as it was intentionally trying to be seen.

Then Tara realized what that light was. With no hesitation, Tara grabbed onto AJ's shirt, and pulled her back inside of the morgue. AJ started to protest, until a loud bang cracked through the air, and a bullet struck where AJ formerly was standing. Tara shut the door as fast as she could, and then backed away from it.

"Holy shit!" AJ said in panic. "Ya just saved my life, girl!"

"What the hell was that?" Rachel asked, following Tara's example and backing away from the door.

"I-I, um," Tara said fearfully. "I think the Living Nightmare is trying to kill us."

To Be Continued…

Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare (The Miscreant Rises)

Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare

Part 2 of 2: The Miscreant Rises

Dash popped another shrimp into her mouth. She admitted to be very thankful that Tiny and Brutus were accompanying her on this guard job. She figured that the chances of being sexually assaulted were drastically reduced, since she was no longer left alone with McCarther. Unless, of course, Tiny and Brutus also wanted to assault her, in which case, Dash essentially thought she would be screwed. She still had no idea where she was headed, but McCarther seemed to grow more ecstatic by the minute. Dash look out the windows, and noticed that they were heading downtown. The hour was approaching midnight, which made Dash a little concerned. She may not have known much about city life, but something had always told her never to go downtown to a crime-ridden area late at night.

"So, why are we headed downtown?" Dash asked, voicing her concern.

"You'll see," McCarther said happily. Dash rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She looked over at Tiny and Brutus.

"Hey, how you dick-munchers doing?" Dash called out.

Neither of them responded.

"Really, nothing?" Dash asked. "You aint going to say anything?"

Once again, there was no response. It was starting to become clear to Dash that neither of them were to dare say anything in front of McCarther, except for the most basic responses, perhaps, just perhaps, not wanting to lose their jobs.

"Why not?" Dash wondered aloud. "I understand it's hard to talk with so much jizz in your mouth, Tiny. Just be a man and fucking swallow already. Christ." Still, despite teases and insults to both men's pride, neither said a word. It was actually starting to annoy Dash. Half of the fun of insulting someone was watching them react. But the two guards remained emotionless, ruining Dash's mood.

"WE'RE HERE!" McCarther suddenly shouted. The limo pulled to the side of the street and parked. McCarther could barely contain his joy. The door opened, and McCarther practically bolted out of his vehicle. Dash casually followed suit, and looked around. From what she could gather, she was in a very rundown section of Philadelphia. Most buildings around her were in shambles; their roofs broken, their walls graffitied, and the windows cracked. However, the building she was standing in front of was shining bright in the night. The building was in fine condition, as many lights covered it, trying to attract as much attention as possible. A bouncer waited outside the door, underneath a large sign that said,

Ultimate Palace, Gentlemen's Club

Are you fucking kidding me? Dash thought to herself, as McCarther bounded towards the entrance. I ruined my night to guard an old horny bastard on his way to a strip joint?

Dash saw Tiny motion her forwards. Dash reluctantly sighed, and followed McCarther and the guards into the building.

Across the street, between two broken down houses, a man watched the limousine's passengers enter the strip club, while his three friends enjoyed smoking marijuana behind him.

"Damn, this shit's great," one of the men said. "How much this cost you?"

"About 70 bucks," one of the other men responded. "Cost me some motha fucking dough to get."

"Shit, you shoulda argued with the seller, dog," said the third man. "You gotta learn to handle this shit, bro." The second man, annoyed, looked back the first man.

"Yo nigga, why we even hanging out with this pasty mothafucka?" the man asked.

"Jordan here apparently has the best driving skills this side of town," the first man explained, putting the drugs back to his mouth.

"Doesn't mean the nigga can't show no respect now, 'ight?" the second man asked.

"Dude, calm yourself," Jordan said slowly. "Just let the fuckin buzz take your ass over."

"Man, you got to watch your mouth," the second man said. "Stop with all the mothafuckin language."

"I said calm down, Jerome," Jordan spoke again. "Niggas got to be cool."

"I told you before, I don't get high easy," Jerome said. In disbelief, he asked, "And what did you just say to me?"

As his two friends argued, Anwar turned to his other friend, who was still staring at the strip club.

"Yo, Benny," Anwar called out. "You want some of this shit?"

Benny sighed and turned to his other friends.

"I fucking told you already," Benny said angrily. "Stop. Getting. High. On. The. Job. We got a huge motherfuckin hit just waiting to happen." Anwar stood up, and looked around Benny to see the limousine parked nearby.

"You want to attack the nigga that owns that?" Anwar asked in disbelief. "Don't you know the fucking rules, dog? We try taking too much money, and the Smiling Dragons will be all over our ass."

"Haven't you heard?" Benny said. "Word is that Discord's been taken down. Huge police operation. You know my cousin, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, I know that little nigga," Anwar said. "He's in Discord's crew, right?"

"Yeah, that's the point, man," Benny said. "He said he hasn't heard from Discord in two weeks. And you already know about that sting back on the fourth of October."

"Oh, shit," Anwar said, understanding Benny's point. "So, it's just us two bit thugs now, aint it?"

"Fuck yeah," Benny said. "Now, it's time for us to rise to the top. And to start it off, let's break that elderly mothafucka's legs and see what he's got on 'im."

As the plan of the four gangsters came to fruition, across the street, Dash found herself in the one place she'd never imagined to be: guarding an old business man in a strip club. Dash had a very hard time adjusting to the dim lighting. Everything was cast in a purple glow, in order to, she supposed, enhance the mood. To her right, Dash saw a brightly lit bar, where a topless woman was handing out cold beers to already drunken men. To the left, Dash saw two stripper poles, one of which was occupied by some blonde woman, that might have looked attractive in the proper lighting. In fact, all of the women that Dash saw around her could have been moderately pretty, if they hadn't ruined their lives and bodies with extreme sex and drugs.

McCarther suddenly yelled with glee, and ran over to one of the strippers, who had her arms open, waiting for him. She was a short Asian woman, wearing a more degrading form of a nurse's outfit. She too, under comparison with most other girls in the locale, was somewhat pretty, although Dash could clearly see the scars on her stomach from whatever surgeries she had had in the past. McCarther and the woman waltzed back to the guards.

"Hey toots," McCarther said, making Dash feel ill inside. "This is Lucy Mai. She's my favorite girl in the whole world."

"Hello," Lucy Mai said. It was quite clear to Dash that Lucy didn't speak much English in her spare time.

"Me and Lucy are going to… relax here for a while; catch up on some things. You stay put out here with Tiny and Brutus. I don't care what you do. Watch the show, relax a little. Bye now!" McCarther and Lucy Mai walked away into a private room, where another bouncer guarded the door. Tiny and Brutus shrugged and walked over to a table, taking a seat. Dash honestly didn't know what to do. She never thought she was going to be left alone in a strip club before.

Suddenly, she saw a woman walking up to her. The woman was black, dressed in red lingerie, which was meant to show off her breast implants.

"Hey, baby," the stripper called out to Dash. Dash looked puzzled as the woman stood next to her, hands on her hips. "Is there anything I can do for you, girl?"

"Um… no?" Dash said confused.

"Don't worry, darling," the stripper said. "I don't mind that you're a girl. I can do anything for the right price." Dash smirked.

"You know," Dash started to say, trying to get the woman as far away from her as possible. "I don't know why, but something tells me that you clearly don't hump the air as well as you hump every other guy in town. That must be what your manager thinks too, since you don't make nearly enough money to fully support your five incest-bred kids and pump up your tits with enough silicon to stuff the stomach of an elephant, so as to distract everyone from realizing what a failure you are as both a mother and a human being. It's either that, or the fact that your face looks like someone beat a labia up with a baseball bat, and then charred the remains. So, why don't you take your plastic filled body, your saggy ass, and your idiotic complex, and go back to fucking that big metal pole to satisfy the empty feeling inside knowing that you will never rise out of the trash-filled whorehouse, that is, in fact, your pathetic fucking life?"

The woman gasped. At first, she was rather angry, but after a few moments, the stripper slowly started to cry. She covered her face with he hands, and then ran to a private backroom. Several other strippers who saw the event followed her, as Dash leaned back against the nearby wall and laughed to herself.

Oh, strippers, Dash thought to herself. What is there not to make fun of? I think I might be able to make this trip enjoyable, after all.

__________

Melanie Moon missed.

Melanie Moon, the greatest assassin in the world, missed a target.

Melanie Moon, the Living Nightmare, the woman who had terrified nations, who had executed over 150 targets, who was the most accurate sniper in the world, had fired at a target, and missed.

Moon trembled, uncontrollably. It was something that she had never experienced before. She lied down at her vantage point on the roof. Her custom weapon was pointed at the side entrance of the morgue across the street. Moon didn't move; she was too stunned to do anything. She prided herself on her unnatural efficiency to kill. Her accuracy was unmatched. The only reason she was called onto work for The Unknown was for the chance to execute anyone who stood in the way. And yet, when it came down to do her job, she had failed.

Moon gritted her teeth together. She told herself to stay calm. The targets would be eliminated. All she had to do was focus. Moon steadied herself, and looked back through the scope of her gun. The gray door to the morgue remained shut. Moon waited. Sure enough, the door slowly started to creak open. The halls were dark, and Moon couldn't see more than a meter past the door from her current vantage point. She continued to wait.

Then, as Moon expected, something briefly moved from behind the door. She couldn't see many details, but she it knew that it was flesh, and that was enough for her.

The flesh had barely been out of cover for half of a second, before a shot ripped through the air, tearing through the piece of meat, causing it to fly apart.

"Shit!" AJ yelled, shutting the door again.

Back inside the morgue, most of the girls were huddled deep inside the halls. AJ had positioned herself behind the door. She was attempting to see if Moon was still present by holding the piece of Hammonick's skull out of cover. Unfortunately, now the girls found themselves facing two unpleasant truths. Not only did they no longer have any evidence tying to the killer, but the same killer was waiting to execute them, and whoever it was, they were very fast with being able to do it.

"Tara, ya gotta plan, right?" AJ asked, hopefully. Tara shook her head.

"Not really," Tara said somberly. "If we open that door, Moon will shoot us down. We need to get to the van; we'll never make it far on foot."

"Tara, why are you certain that Moon is shooting at us?" Rachel asked. "We don't know who it is, yet. Remember?"

"I would like to think that," Tara said. "But… I don't know…"

"Well, duh," Pinky suddenly interjected. "Of course it's Moon."

"How do you know?" Rachel asked. Pinky pointed to the ground.

"The bullet she fired is right there, isn't it?" Pinky stated. With realization, the girls looked to where Pinky was pointing, as AJ shined her flashlight upon the spot. Sure enough, the impact from the bullet had embedded itself into the ground, leaving behind the image of a raven's skeleton.

"I…I completely forgot about that," Tara said feeling rather foolish. "AJ, can you get any DNA from that?" AJ sighed.

"Not unless I can move the floor and take it back to Camelot," AJ said. "But at least we have multiple witnesses of the image. Now, all we got to do is report our findings."

"That's the problem," Tara said. "We can't leave the building."

"Um…" said Fiona, shyly. "Couldn't we just call the cops? That would probably scare Moon away."

Tara grimaced.

"That's what bugs me," Tara said. "There should have already been police activity here, or at least some basic security. But this place was abandoned. It's almost as if the police were supposed to leave this place as we arrived."

"You think it's a setup?" AJ asked.

"I don't know," Tara admitted. "Maybe. I'm not really focusing on that now, though. We need to figure out how to get out of here."

Tara leaned against the wall, and thought. She thought hard for a few minutes, trying to imagine that she was in Moon's position. Being perched atop that building, Moon's angle of fire was probably very high, meaning she couldn't see far into the building. She also knew that Moon would have no easy way to get down from the building, if the girls were to escape. Camelot itself was not a far drive. So, all they would have to do is lose her for a few seconds, and they could slip back to Camelot, unharmed. But then again, Moon could always snipe the driver mid-drive. Unless, of course, she couldn't properly aim at the vehicle.

Or, she didn't have enough ammo. Then, suddenly, Tara realized what she could do.

"AJ," Tara said, gaining hope. "You said Melanie Moon has never missed a shot in her life, right?" AJ shrugged.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well," Tara said. "Do you think you can get her to misfire three more times?"

"Probably," AJ said. "Maybe. What for?"

"It just occurred to me," Tara explained. "If Moon's never missed a shot in her life, then why would she ever bother bringing around extra ammo to her assignments?" AJ opened her mouth to answer, but then realized that she couldn't, as Tara's plan was finally getting through to her. AJ smiled.

"Rachel," AJ said. "Go back to Hammonick's body, and get me that bag of skull pieces. We're getting' out of here."

As Tara's plan came to life, back outside, Moon continued to wait patiently. She had sufficiently managed to halt her trembling, and her aim was , once again, as sturdy as ever. She had missed the last two shots, but she would miss no further. She kept her sights locked on the side entrance. She was prepared for any other decoys, and she made sure no to fire until the target was fully identified.

At least, this was her initial thought process, until she saw something with her peripheral vision. From the main entrance of the morgue, something was clearly trying to get out. The door opened, and Moon turned her gun to face the other entrance. A piece of Hammonick's skull flew out of the door.

Moon didn't fire. She smirked at the futile attempt to fool her. But then, more movement back at the side entrance, and in an involuntary motion, Moon pulled the trigger, taking out another piece of human flesh. Moon cursed at herself. She had missed three times in less than ten minutes. Moon attributed it to her long period of jail time, but it was still no excuse for her.

Suddenly, as Moon felt nothing but humiliation, she realized a much simpler way to achieve her goal. Moon turned her sights on the lone van in the morgue parking lot, and shot out one of the tires. It deflated with a satisfactory hiss, and Moon once again had the upper hand.

Before she realized that she was practically out of ammo.

Moon only had one round left to fire. Even if all of the girls decided to come running out at the same time, she could only take out three at the most, and only if the all ran close enough together. It was quite the predicament for her to find herself in. Moon growled at herself for letting her pride get in the way of practicality. Why did she have to only bring five shots? She asked herself this many times in her head. This was her chance to prove that she was still the best assassin in the world, and currently, she was being an insurmountable failure.

Meanwhile, back inside the morgue, Tara suddenly heard the extra shot being fired. Tara didn't understand why. There weren't any other targets aside from the pieces of Hammonick's skull that were being tossed out the door (which, as a side note, Tara was pretty sure she was going to Hell for suggesting.)

"Fiona, go get Pinky," Tara instructed. Fiona nodded and ran to the main entrance, where Rachel and Pinky were currently waiting. "AJ, do you know what she's shooting at?" Tara asked. AJ shook her head.

"No idea," AJ admitted. "Still, at least it wastes another bullet for her. I sure hope your theory is right, Tara."

"So do I," Tara said honestly. "In any case, she'd at least have to reload at some point. Do you by any chance remember how many shots her gun held at a time?"

"Nope," AJ said. "I read the specs to that thing when I was 12. Don't remember much except what it could do to people." At this time, Pinky came merrily skipping down the hall, Fiona and Rachel in tow. "Oh, good. You gals are alright."

"Except being scared for our lives," Rachel spoke. "How many shots does she have left?"

"Just one," Tara said. "At least, we think so. We heard her fire at something outside. We don't exactly know the situation."

"Well, hasn't one of you checked or something?" Rachel asked.

"Hey," AJ interjected. "Y'all wanna get shot in the face? Fine with me."

Suddenly, Fiona pushed her way to the door.

"I'll do it," Fiona said. Fiona attempted to push AJ away from the door, although she did not have nearly enough strength to move the experienced soldier.

"What the hell do ya think you're doing?" AJ asked. "I wasn't actually being serious about that." Fiona stubbornly continued to push AJ, despite the southern girl not moving an inch.

"I'll look through the crack between the hinges and the frame," Fiona explained. "People have had a tendency to ignore me. I'll take a brief look, and then close the door again. She'll never notice me."

"And if she does?" Tara asked, concern growing. Fiona remained motionless for a moment, contemplating what to say, before answering in a hushed, somber voice.

"Then you'd have your chance to escape," Fiona said softly.

"Fiona, if you're trying to prove some stupid heroism or something," Tara said harshly. "Then just stop. Getting yourself killed won't help any of us."

"I'll be fine," Fiona said. "Hopefully."

Fiona had no idea what was rushing over her. She would have liked to think it as some brave feat that she was trying to accomplish, but it wasn't that. She would have liked to think that she had valiantly chosen to sacrifice herself for the good of the team, but it wasn't that either. It was simply that she just had a terrible feeling that if she didn't check outside, then something truly awful would happen. Perhaps it wasn't the most logical choice, but none of the other girls had a plan except waiting for their time to die.

Fiona took a deep breath to steady herself, then motioned the others deeper down the hall. She slowly opened the door, remaining hidden behind it. Then, as cautiously and stealthily as she could, Fiona lowered her head, and looked through the empty space in the door. She scanned around the environment, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Fiona, at least for the moment, still had her skull intact, but she didn't know how long it would last. Fiona's eyes landed upon the car, and Fiona focused in on the vehicle.

"Oh no," Fiona said quietly.

"What?" Tara asked, taking a step forward.

"I think she shot out one of our tires," Fiona said. "That must have been what that shot wa-"

Fiona froze. For just a second, her vision had scanned upwards, and Fiona's mouth hung open as she watched the bizarre event. Tara took another step forward, noticing the fear in Fiona's expression.

"What?" Tara said. "What is it now?" Fiona gulped.

"Um, unless I'm mistaken…" Fiona explained. "That's a woman jumping off the top of that ten-story building."

Tara quickly ran to Fiona's side, kneeling beside her, and peered out the window. From afar, she could see a black figure falling down the side of the building. The building was only 50 meters away, so Tara was easily able to adjust her vision to see the figure more closely. It was clearly a woman, long black hair floating above her as she dove gracefully to the ground. The woman was not wearing much; a closed black vest, with a black T-shirt underneath, black jeans, and surprisingly, equally shaded high heels. Two clawed gloves were on her hands. Her ghost white skin shone in the moonlight, except on her right arm, which was covered with red markings. If Tara was thinking rationally, then she perhaps would have thought that the woman had simply thrown on a random mesh of clothing for the night. But Tara wasn't thinking rationally, as she watched the woman free-fall.

It seemed a moment that Moon would simply splat upon the ground, but luck would not be on Tara side. Moon fell relatively close to the building, so much so that extending her arm would cause her to collide with the exterior. Yet, that was exactly what Moon did. Moon rotated herself in mid-air, so that she was facing the structure. With two clawed gloves, she dug her fingers into the building. Tara didn't know what the claws were made out of, but she knew they must have been extremely resilient, as they carved through the steel with relative ease. As Moon's descent slowed, she dug her heels into the building as well, slowing her fall further. By the time she was ten feet off the ground, Moon had practically halted completely. She checked her distance to the ground, and then jumped away from the building, landing with both feet on the ground. Moon reached into her back pocket, and then pulled out a small pistol.

Then, she ran at the morgue in a full sprint. Tara quickly shut the door, and she and Fiona backed away a quickly as possible.

"RUN!" Tara ordered, bolting down the hallway. Fiona dashed after her. AJ didn't know what the girls were panicking about, but she saw the fear in their eyes as they ran away. AJ took off after the others, as Rachel and Pinky followed close behind. Taking sharp turns around the corners, Tara quickly arrived at the front entrance, and held the door open as the others came running behind her. They ran past Tara, and onto the dark streets. In the distance, Tara could see Moon sprinting after them, slowly gaining ground. Moon raised her gun, and fired at the girls. However, the accuracy of the weapon was not to her standard, and the bullets dropped before they got near the girls.

"Tara! What's the plan?!" AJ yelled as Moon got closer.

"Don't you have any weapon on you?!" Tara shouted.

"No!" AJ yelled back. "Fuck, she's getting closer!" The girls rounded a street corner. Tara looked around, trying to find any refuge from their troubles.

Damn it, Tara thought. If only we had our weapons. Or an escape vehicle. Or anything.

An alley appeared on Tara's left. Without hesitation, Tara ran into it. The others followed, not wanting to be separated from the group. The alley took a right turn, but as Tara turned the corner, she froze. The alley led to a dead end. All that was present around the bend was a fire escape, and two dumpsters. The others turned the corner, and realized that they had trapped themselves.

"What do we do now?" asked Fiona, who heard Moon close behind.

"Quick," Tara ordered. "Get in the dumpsters, and stay quiet. If she comes, we'll see if we can launch a surprise attack." Without any other options, the girls opened up the dumpsters, and climbed inside. Pinky hopped into one, not bothering to check whether it was empty or not. AJ jumped in after her, feeling very fortunate that the containers happened to be empty. Tara and Fiona entered the other dumpster. However, Rachel paused, covering her nose.

"Oh, great," Rachel muttered. "No way in hell I'm going to lower myself to-Whoa!"

AJ suddenly grabbed onto Rachel's shirt, and threw her into the dumpster with Pinky and herself. The lids to the dumpsters slammed shut, mere seconds before Moon entered the alleyway.

"I'm sure they came through here," Moon muttered to herself. She quickly moved to the corner wall, peering out to see if the girls were there. Once she noted that it was a dead end, Moon put away her gun.

"Where are you?" Moon wondered aloud. She reached into her vest, and pulled out a butterfly knife. "I know you have to be here somewhere. I can smell you."

Moon swung around her knife, revealing the long, sharp blade within. From within the dumpster, Tara was giving hand signals to Fiona. The message she was attempting to get across was to lunge at Moon the moment she opened the lid. But, she wasn't exactly sure if Fiona understood what the signals meant, or if she could even see them at all within the darkness.

"You know, beating Discord wasn't much of an accomplishment," Moon said, knowing that the girls had to be within earshot. "I mean, he wasn't a true killer. Just some nutcase with a love for explosives. I have been trained to be the ultimate killing machine since I was seven. It was my birthright. Honestly, do you think you can hide from me? I know you're right here, and…" Moon said, stopping in front of the dumpsters. "There really aren't that many places to hide."

Moon smiled as she placed her hand on the lid of Tara's dumpster.

"You bitches have given us so much trouble over the past month," Moon said with disdain. "But now, it's over. Tell me, have any of you ever felt the satisfaction of a blade running against your skin?"

Moon ran her fingers over the scarred right arm, feeling each individual mark with great satisfaction.

"The feeling of cold steel penetrating your warm body. The feeling of blood pouring from your wounds. It's exhilarating! Now, you get to experience such a wonderful sensation! The most pure feeling of bliss that this world has ever known." Moon placed both hands on the lid, taking her time, letting each tense moment drag itself out.

"Thank you, ladies," Moon said with sadistic glee. Through a crack in the lid, Tara could see Moon's icy blue eyes, staring at the dumpster with an intense hunger. "Thanks to you, I finally have a reason to cut again."

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"What the hell?" Moon muttered to herself, taking her hands off of the dumpster. She reached into her front pocket of her pants, and pulled out a cellphone.

"Yes?" Moon said, clearly annoyed. "Yes sir, I'm about to do it now. Wait… what? What do you mean? I… yes… yes… but sir, I… what do you mean, 'It's not important'?! Don't you remember why you hired me? I… I… uh… fine, sir. Whatever you say." Moon moaned in great disappointment, as she hung up the phone and put it away.

Of all the fucking times, Moon thought to herself in anger.

"Looks like luck is on your side tonight," Moon said towards the dumpsters. "My execution order's been delayed. I'm supposed to keep you alive now. You can come out if you want."

Not one of the girls dared so much as breathe.

"Fine then," Moon said. "My job is done for tonight. Something about, 'new plans emerging'. You should consider yourselves fortunate to survive such an ordeal. Of course, the hunt isn't over. It has simply been put on hold. In the meantime, enjoy this little token of respect."

Moon took her butterfly knife and threw it to the ground. The blade wedged itself into the earth, as Moon started to walk away.

"That should give you more than enough evidence of my existence. Give it to your pathetic superiors. I want them to know that I'm back. I want everyone to know. I only wish I could tell them myself. But I must make my leave at this time. So, for now, Auf Wiedersehen, my darlings!"

"Well, that was something," AJ said. She was in shock. The Living Nightmare, the most feared assassin on the planet, had just let them live to see another day. It was something unheard of, something so mind-boggling fantastic that AJ would have never even dreamed of it.

"You can say that again," Tara said, taking a close look at the knife embedded in the ground. "We better take this with us. Guess we better tell Wilson what we saw."

"Ooh, can I tell the story?" Pinky begged.

"No," Tara said sternly. "Something tells me that this knife will tell the story better than we ever could."

__________

What is so appealing about a thong? Dash thought to herself. She had been in the strip club for well over an hour, and she was starting to get tired of seeing scantily clad women appeasing the sexual fantasies of men. It was wearing on her patience, and, more importantly, her sanity. This led Dash to think of things she otherwise would never be thinking of, which is how the thoughts about thongs got into her mind.

I mean, if so many bitches are going to wear them, Dash thought. Then they'd have to be comfortable, right? No one would buy something that rides up on you. Unless… that's the point. To be so uncomfortable that you become comfortable. Like reverse psychology. You think it should be uncomfortable, but then it isn't as bad as you think. So then, it feels comfortable by comparison. Wait… why the fuck am I thinking about this?

Dash's train of thought was interrupted when she saw McCarther walk out of the private room, chatting to Lucy Mai. For what would count as the first time Dash was actually happy to see the man, Dash got up from her seat and walked over to McCarther. On her way, she passed a stripper trying to seduce some men.

"(cough) You're mother doesn't love you. (cough)," Dash spoke out. She wasn't sure if the woman heard it or not, as the stripper continued to entertain the men without hesitation.

"So I said, 'Hey, watch the tomato soup!' And then… Oh, hello there," McCarther's story was broken up as Dash approached.

"Ya ready to go, boss?" Dash asked in a rather desperate tone.

"Not quite," McCarther said. Dash's mood sank yet again. "However, I do feel as if I need a smoke. Toots, you will accompany an old gentleman outside, won't you?"

Great, thought Dash. This is the part where I get molested.

"Fine, boss," Dash moaned out. She followed McCarther to the entrance, and walked outside into the crisp November night. McCarther took out a cigar and a lighter, as Dash occupied herself by observing the neighborhood. She didn't feel any safer, seeing that the streets were probably ridden with crime. It also didn't help that the bouncer was no longer by the door, having to shoo away an overzealous customer.

"So, Miss Dawson," McCarther said, biting on his cigar. "Do you want to change the world?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Dash asked. She didn't really care about what McCarther had to say, so long as she was doing her job.

"Look, I'm not the senile, old bastard you think I am," McCarther said, rather serious. "You don't get this far in life without being able to understand people."

"Wait… what?" Dash said confused.

"You heard me," McCarther said. "I know you think I'm a crazy old fuck. Almost everyone does. But here's the thing: I like you, kid. You see things differently from the rest."

"Are you implying something?" Dash asked.

"Look, you hate the world, kid. Anyone can see that. So do I," McCarther explained. "This world is ruled by little pinheaded motherfuckers who only care about themselves. Ole' George-y was one of the biggest schmucks in the universe. This whole little system we have here… partying away as others suffer… it's just bullshit."

"You can say that again," Dash said. "People are cunts."

"Yes, yes they are," McCarther agreed. "Look, what I really want to do with my life is-"

"Yo, mothafucka!" A voice called out. Two gang members approached Dash and McCarther on either side, each of them armed with a small blade.

"Hey, fool, give us your cash," Jordan called out.

"Yeah, just hand the motherfucking money over," said Benny. "No one's gotta get hurt." McCarther looked around nervously. However, Dash remained calm, looking at the four men surrounding her.

"What do you punk-ass motherfuckers intend to do if we don't?" Dash smirked.

"Yo, do you want that old nigga to get cut?" Jerome asked. "Just leave your psycho bitch-ass outta here."

"Nah, I think this bitch wants it, bro," Anwar said, thrusting in the air. "She don't just want to get cut. This bitch wants some pleasure from tonight."

"If you're implying what I think you're implying," Dash said. "Then I have to inform you that you are wrong. Honestly, I'm pretty sure this old bastard would provide a better time than you."

Jordan started to laugh.

"Oh, shit!" Jordan laughed out. "That's a burn, mothafu-"

"Hey, shut your ass, nigga!" Jerome yelled out. He started advancing towards Dash, menacingly. "I'm just gonna fuck this bitch up. No more foreplay in this mothafucka. We goin' to be slicing tonight."

"Come and get, you piece of shit," Dash smiled. She had her back turned to Jerome as he charged at her, his blade extended. But just before he could get in range, Dash's beloved white sneaker had already connected to his face. The gun spiraled out of his hand, as Jerome collapsed to the ground, unconscious. In shock, the other gang members froze, as Dash took up a fighting stance.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she taunted with a grin. "Get your asses over here!"

The other men charged instantly. Jordan reached Dash first. He tried to stab her, but she easily dodged, stripping the knife from his hand and pushing him to the ground. Anwar ran up to her from behind, but before he could strike, Dash quickly turned round, and slashed the knife against his cheek. Anwar cursed and stumbled backwards, clutching his face. Benny came in next and attempted to swing his knife at Dash, but she dodged three of his strikes. On the fourth attempt, Dash ducked underneath his blade, and dug her knife deep into Benny's chest, killing him before his body ever hit the ground. Anwar and Jordan panicked.

"Fuck!" Anwar shouted. "She killed Benny!"

"Fuck this shit!" Jordan said. "This score aint worth it no more." Jordan ran away, as Anwar picked up Jerome's body, carrying his unconscious friend back across the street. Dash spit on Benny's corpse, as McCarther regained his composure.

"Kid, you've got quite some talent," McCarther said. "Look, I am planning to gain a large amount of influence over WMH Enterprises, even more than I currently have. We're going to revolutionize the world. No more American bullshit. We are going to give power back to the people. And I want you to be a part of that future."

"Really?" Dash said in surprise. McCarther nodded.

"Yeah," he said, going back to smoking his cigar. "I'd like to offer you a private business proposition that will benefit all of the things you believe in. If you want to accept, then I want you to meet us at this address tomorrow, at 10 PM." McCarther reached into his suit and pulled out a slip of paper, which he handed to Dash. "You know, I think you've done enough for tonight. Go back to Wilson for tonight, even though I know you don't really want to work for that bastard."

"So…" Dash aid, trying to understand what McCarther was proposing. "Let me get this straight. You're offering me a job which, if I am to understand correctly, involves fighting against the fucked up sociological bullshit of America. Not only that, but I get to stop taking orders from Wilson, which means I no longer have to do bullshit for the government. Right?"

McCarther shrugged.

"Pretty much."

"That… that actually doesn't sound too bad," Dash admitted. She still didn't like McCarther, but if what he was offering was in fact true, than Dash was practically being offered the ultimate rebellious dish on a golden platter. "I'll… consider it." McCarther smirked.

"Good, I thought you would," McCarther said happily. "Run along, now. See you tomorrow. Hopefully." Dash tucked the slip of paper into her suit pocket, and then entered the limousine. McCarther walked up to the driver's seat, and instructed the driver to take Dash back to WMH Enterprises headquarters. As the limousine pulled away, Dash started to think about what had been offered in the past few minutes.

And as she did that, McCarther took out his cellphone, and made a very important call.

__________

As Dash entered Camelot, she couldn't help but notice the surprising amount of people wandering about. Usually, other military people just stayed in the shadows, working behind the scenes. But as Dash walked back to the sleeping quarters, she counted at least ten people run by her, checking over notes or talking to each other. Dash took a deep sigh, and stepped through the door to the sleeping quarters, plopping herself down on her bunk and closing her eyes. Dash suddenly noticed the presence of other people beside her. Dash opened her eyes to see her tired and distressed teammates sitting on their bunks, staring at Dash.

"What are your panties in a bunch for?" Dash sneered as she rolled over, turning her backs to the girls.

"Do you have any idea of what we've been through?" Tara asked, somewhat annoyed by Dash's exhausted complexion.

"Do you have any idea what I was doing?" Dash retorted, keeping her back to the girls. "Crazy shit happened tonight."

"What could have possibly been so horrible as to worry you?" Rachel asked from above, mildly curious.

"Well, let's see," Dash said, recalling the events of the night. "I was asked to strip naked in front of an old dude, then I was taken to a strip club. I was hit on by a bunch of unattractive whores, and then, some gangbangers tried to rape me. I kicked their asses, then came back here. Pretty shitty night."

"That's all?" Tara asked. "That's what was so crazy?!"

"Oh, I forgot," Dash quickly remembered. "I also rode a motorcycle. Pretty kick-ass. Am I right?" Tara glared at Dash, who was acting which such depravity that it seemed like she had been in the worst catastrophe in history.

"Well," Tara spoke with annoyance. "We nearly got killed by the Living Nightmare." Dash, surprised by the news, turned back over with a smug grin.

"Well, aint that charming," Dash said.

"It's not funny, Dash," AJ interrupted from above. "We almost got killed."

"Yeah, but you nearly get killed every night," Dash reasoned. AJ groaned.

"Look, Dash," Fiona said. "It was awful. She was terrifying. Just to be in her presence felt like being near a ghost. We barely escaped with our lives."

"Boohoo," Dash said. "Stop whining. I've had a shitty day, too, you know. All the fucked up shit I had to deal with. Man, those strippers…" Dash was caught off, as Tara snapped towards her, leaning off of the bunk.

"Are you kidding me?" Tara nearly yelled. "We nearly get massacred, and all you do is whine about the joy ride of a day you've been having. We were going to die. That isn't something to shrug off or laugh. And yet, you think it's okay to whine about perverts and strippers?! Stop acting like you're the center of the universe, and actually show that you care for once!"

"Hey," Dash spat out, her words quick. "Don't try to put words in my mouth. I'm sorry such an incident happened to you, Spark. Moon has really got to work on her aim." Tara nearly lunged off her bunk, but Fiona interrupted her.

"Look," Fiona said, trying to remove the tension in the room. She remembered the last time that the girls fought. She especially remembered what Tara's face had looked like after the incident. Even now, the marks on Tara's face hadn't completely gone away, and the last thing Fiona needed was for both girls to go at each other again. "Let's just calm down here. Look, Dash, I'm sure you've had a bad time tonight. But, Tara's just a little annoyed that you don't seem to be caring about any of the struggles we had to put up with either. It's nothing wrong with you… it's just-"

"You don't think I care," Dash finished Fiona's words, sitting up from her bunk. "Well, you know what? I really don't. Why should I? Clearly, you don't trust me!"

"What are you talking about?" Tara asked, getting offended. Dash rolled her eyes.

"You never care about me at all," Dash complained. "You expect me to care about your problems when you lack the decency to care about mine."

"Rebecca, we have no idea what you're rambling about," Tara said. "If you would open up to us more, and maybe care enough to trust us with this, then maybe-"

"No more 'maybe'! No more of this pseudo-'we care' bullshit! You all are just a bunch of hypocritical bitches, you know that?" Dash spat out with hate. All attention was drawn to her. Even Pinky, who had preferred to stay out of the fight, was now equally shocked and hurt as the rest of the girls. As Dash spoke, each sentence slowly increased in the amount of hatred and anger put into it. "You yell at me about not caring, but when have you ever cared about my shit? Don't think I don't know what people think of me. I know what you cocksuckers have said about me when you thought I wasn't listening. You assholes. I mean, why should I care about you, when you don't even trust me enough to rescue AJ from Discord? Or when you force me to do shit I can't stand, like circling a town at midnight, or working for a giant asshole all day who wants to finger me like a fucking eight-year old? Or, maybe, not give a shit about my opinion, like, ever! All of you fucking fuckers complain that I don't care? Go fuck yourselves! All you are just a bunch of motherfucking, needy, evil, attention-loving, bullshit-spewing pricks! Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to sleep in the training room, cause that's clearly the only place you selfish whores would want me!"

Dash stood up from the bunk, and walked to the door. Without turning back, she held up her middle finger to the girls, and then stormed out of the room. The door was slammed shut, as the girls stared in amazement at Dash's fantastic display of rage.

__________

November 3rd, 2015

It was five minutes to ten o'clock as Dash sped down the road on her bike. She felt no regrets about the decision she was making. All that needed to be said was already said last night. Dash knew that whatever her future could have held, she had no desire to turn back. Perhaps, if she cared a little more, she would have chosen differently, or at the very least, felt sad about what she was leaving behind. However, Dash figured that the less time she ever had to think of those people again, the better she would feel.

The rainbow-haired girl soon arrived at her destination: 3 Park Lane. Dash pulled up to a three-story tall stone building. Its exterior was cracked, appearing very worn-down, and she was sure that it was certainly near life-threatening to enter it. But Dash paid little mind to her own safety as she got off of her bike and walked to the building, focusing only on the task at hand.

From what she had gathered, the building used to be some kind of orphanage back in the 50's. But now, it was simply a forgotten piece of time, abandoned and left to rot in downtown Philadelphia. The building itself was rather wide, wide enough that it seemed to be able to accommodate one hundred children on a single floor. The only entrance was a set of old, wooden doors. On the ground before it was a sign that had long since fallen from its perch, leaving the building empty and nameless. Dash cautiously slid the door open, noticing the loud creaking noise emerging from the wood. Dash entered into a room that used to be some sort of reception room. Across from her, a wooden desk had fallen to its side, and Dash could see dusty chairs lined against the wall.

"Hey, anyone here?!" Dash called out into the darkness, noticing the echoes tracing down the shallow halls.

"Over here, kiddo!" a voice called out from the darkness. With all of the echoing, it would have been near impossible for Dash to locate the source. However, as Dash took a flashlight out of her pocket, she noticed a piece of paper attached to the wall. It had an arrow hastily drawn on it, pointing to a hallway on Dash's left. Dash followed the arrow, traveling down the dark hallway. She passed by what appeared to be sleeping quarters, however, she couldn't quite be sure. What appeared to be bed frames were scattered about the room, knocked over sideways, and the area held the same cold emptiness that the rest of the building had in plenty. Dash took five more steps forward before seeing another sign, this time pointing to Dash's right. Dash turned to her right, and noticed a flight of stone steps leading upwards. Dash slowly ascended the steps, noticing how much colder she got as she traveled up. When she reached the top of the steps, Dash stopped.

Dash found herself in the remains of an old cafeteria, which she knew must have served young kids horrible food at some point. The room itself was trashed. Twenty wooden tables were lying sideways on the ground. There were four large windows, two on each wall, located about ten feet off of the ground. However, they were no longer necessary, as on the back wall, a giant hole was showing off a view to the building behind the orphanage, letting moonlight into the large chamber. Near the back wall, McCarther was patiently standing around, with Tiny and Brutus standing on either side.

"Hey, kid, glad you could come!" McCarther shouted. Dash didn't move any further than a foot from the steps.

"Glad I could make it," Dash smiled back. "So, is this what I think it's all about?"

"Yeah, baby!" McCarther shouted excitedly. He started to walk towards Dash, a large grin on his face. "See, this is the place I grew up. I was born in an orphanage just like you. Back in the day, this place use to treat us like shit. But, who's shit now, baby?!" Dash looked around the remains of the orphanage, looking quite impressed.

"I guess I should say, 'Congratulations!'" Dash said. "I mean, you're quite the success now. Second in line to WMH Enterprises. Not bad."

"Well, I used to be third in line a few days ago," McCarther shrugged. At this time, Dash noticed that the room darkened a bit, as a shadow appeared over the hole in the back wall. "Oh, that reminds me… I need to introduce you to someone who is helping to make my dream a reality."

The female figure jumped down from the hole, allowing the moonlight to shine upon her. Even in the darkness, Dash could not mistake the pale white skin, blood red arm, and icy blue eyes of the woman before her.

"Miss Dawson," McCarther said happily. "I'd like to introduce you to the world's greatest assassin, Melanie Moon."

Dash's eyes widened slightly. It was barely visible though, and Dash kept a straight face on regardless, so the others never saw her surprise. In fact, after a brief moment, Dash grinned.

"So… you're the one who killed George Hammonick, I take it?" Dash asked. Moon nodded.

"Perceptive," Moon commented. "I think she will do quite well."

"Oh, German," Dash teased. "Spicy. Anyway, I take it that you knew about Miss Moon's… delightful act of murder, right?"

McCarther laughed.

"Oh, kiddo," McCarther said happily through his chuckles. "You really know quite a lot for someone so new at this. See, a few months ago, this guy came up to me with the chance of a lifetime. He told me that I could change the shitty business of America, and turn it into gold. Rip it from the hands of the current pricks that owned it, and give it all away. All I had to do, he said, was get full control of WMH Enterprises. He told me that if I paid for the release of Miss Moon here, and kept the guards quiet about it, then I would be able to fulfill my dream."

"So, she killed George Hammonick because you needed to get control of the company?" Dash reiterated.

"Precisely," McCarther stated. "But all of the power went to that shithead, Brian. We can't let him hold the power. My dream is too important to let him get in the way."

"Just so I know what I'm working for," Dash stated. "What is your dream? Why should I believe in you? I've followed enough secretive assholes who pretend to have my best interest at heart." McCarther laughed again.

"Okay, here's the full tale," McCarther said. "Growing up in this orphanage, I always hated how us weak kids were picked on. The adults were too selfish to put money into better living conditions for us. I wanted to believe that in the future, the little guy would rise up against the big bullies, and take back what was rightfully theirs. All my life, I wanted to give power back to the people. Do away with all of this high society bullshit."

"Because you know that all the upperclassmen want is more power than they already have," Dash said understandingly. "Trust me, I know how you feel."

"Then you know why I want to take over WMH," McCarther said, once again walking towards Dash. "When I take control, and I let Moon's little friend get access to the stuff we need, nobody will ever feel helpless again. We'll see how well the people do against our strength! We have the power to take back the world, and once we do, the new definition of strong will be made, one where everyone who treats us badly will be shot down like fucking cockroaches."

"Putting power back in the hands of the people," Dash said to herself, happily. "Got to admit, you already had me a while back. People are assholes. Fuck 'em. I'll gladly help you start this little revolution of yours."

"Excellent!" McCarther said, getting with an arm's reach of Dash. Even with Dash being relatively short, she was still taller than the old man. "I knew you would support us, kid! Everything you want will finally be achieved."

McCarther held out his hand.

"What do you say, kid?" he asked. Dash paused for a moment, and then started to chuckle to herself. She smiled one of the happiest smiles she had in a long time.

"You know," Dash started to say. "I used to think that you were some perverted, old corporate type."

Dash raised her arm slowly, and then, with great strength, grabbed onto McCarther's hand, shaking it hard.

"But I was wrong…" Dash said, still smiling brightly. McCarther happily chuckled along with Dash.

"Great!" he shouted. "Now, let's get down to busi-"

McCarther paused as he tried to release his grip. But, no matter how hard he tried, Dash didn't let go of his hand. He yanked and pulled it, but Dash didn't budge. McCarther looked back at Dash's face, and saw one of the most terrifying scowls he had ever seen. Dash's teeth were gritted together, her eyes cold and empty. Dash's body shook slightly, as she stared deep into McCarther's eyes.

"…you're just fucking insane!" Dash shouted at him. Dash closed her grip as hard as she could, feeling the bone's in McCarther's hand shatter under such pressure. McCarther screamed, and tried harder to release his grip, but could not.

"You don't care about people," Dash spoke harshly, her voice grave and deep. "I know more about you than you think. You were never poor. You were never starving. Everything was always handed to you on a silver fucking platter, as you watched everyone suffer around you!"

Dash's voice raised, and her grip tightened further. The pain was so intense that McCarther nearly fell to his knees. However, Dash noticed that Tiny and Brutus were already pointing their pistols at Dash, and the only thing preventing them from firing was that McCarther was in the way. And yet, Moon did nothing, simply watching with hawk-like eyes, as the scene played out before her.

"You don't want more money to help people," Dash sneered. "All you want is more fucking women to sit on your lap as your power grows! Putting people down is your life. You've cost hundreds of people their jobs, thousands more their freedom, and millions their hard-earned money, just so you could blow it on one more fucking lap dance! Now, it's time you've suffered for it!"

"Someone!" McCarther called out. "Help me!"

"SPARK, GO!" Dash shouted to the steps behind her.

Dash suddenly ducked. Her hand still attached to McCarther's, the elderly man felt himself being tugged downwards, unable to stand upright. McCarther tried to pull himself back upwards, when he suddenly spotted flying at him.

Tara followed her cue perfectly. Using the steps to gain momentum, she sprung up over Das's bent-over form. As she fell to the floor over her friend, her sword tore through the air with incredible force. By the time Tara hit the ground, the blade had already cut completely through the neck, and McCarther's head rolled to the ground. The guards were stunned, unable to react, and Tara took perfect advantage of this golden opportunity.

"NOW, GIRLS!" Tara commanded. "TAKE 'EM DOWN!"

__________

"…the only place you selfish whores would want me!"

Dash stormed out of the room, and made sure to slam the door behind her as loud as she possibly could. She couldn't believe how insensitive the girls were to her troubles. Sure, they might have nearly been killed, but she had a bad time as well. They may have had to fight a deadly assassin, but she had to talk to strippers. It was a totally equivalent scenario. Wasn't it?

Dash never moved much further from the door. The more Dash thought about it, though, the less justified her words became. Was she imagining this, or was she actually feeling bad about what she said? Dash reflected on what she had said even more, and the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. She thought that being stuck around such nice people was starting to have an effect on her judgment, which she wasn't sure if she wanted or not. Regardless of how much she wanted it, it was certainly having an effect on her. A few years back, she would have never taken back any harsh statements, but now, she felt like she wanted to do something that would defy everything she had ever known about herself.

She wanted to apologize.

Dash had been raised in a tough life, and learned how to become even harder. So what was the problem then? Was she going soft? Was she losing her edge? The more she thought about it, the more the answer became apparent to her.

She hated her friends. She hated how snide and cruel they could be sometimes. She hated how they never seemed to understand anything, and how they always jumped to conclusions. She hated how she needed their combat abilities, yet hated how they didn't usually talk to her, or open up to her, or say nice things to her when she actually accomplished something good. She hated how they acted sometimes.

And those "sometimes", they acted just like she did.

Dash took a deep sigh, rotated 180 degrees, and then marched back into the room she had left seconds prior.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" Dash screamed the instant she stepped back into the room She had barely been gone for ten seconds, and the looks of amazement were still plastered on her friends' faces.

"Wait, what now?" Tara said confused. "You just called us a bunch of whores less than ten seconds ago, and now you're sorry?"

"Yes," Dash sighed. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said. In all honesty, my day was a fuckin' walk in the park compared to yours, and I'm sorry for being such an ass about it." Silence filled the room, as the girls were trying to register the seemingly implausible words that were coming out of Dash's mouth.

"Wow," was simply all Tara could say. "I… I never thought I'd here you apologize for anything." Dash took a deep sigh.

"Listen," Dash said, unusually soft. "I understand that I'm not the easiest person to get along with. In fact, I don't get along with others at all. Maybe that's cuz I had seven assholes as foster brothers, or maybe it's cuz I listened to too much G.G. Allin when I was 9, or maybe it's cause all the grown-ups I knew way back when were complete fucking dicks. And I'm fully aware that I may come across as… bitchy. But, I figure, if we are going to be a team, I may as well finally start acting like a team player. There… that's your fucking friendship speech. You happy now?"

"Actually," Tara said, smiling at Dash. "I'm kind of glad that you said that. It's nice to see you finally opening up, Dash." Dash crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, whatever," Dash said, still trying to pass off her nonchalant persona. "So, what's with all of the crazy military action here?"

"Well," AJ explained. "When Moon attacked us, we were about to be killed by this big knife of hers. Next thing we know, she get a phone call telling her to call off the hit. She leaves the knife in the ground, we take it back here, and now, we're checking for fingerprints."

"A phone call?"

"Yes, a phone call," Rachel confirmed. "Whoever was in charge must have told her that some change of plan had been made, and I guess she just followed his orders."

"Was it The Unknown?" Dash asked, very curious. Tara shook her head.

"I thought so," Tara said. "But the thing is… at first, Moon cornered us into a building. The reason we were able to get out of that was that Moon only brought five bullets with her due to her confidence in her skills. She ran out of ammo, and she started chasing us. But when Discord attacked us, he said that The Unknown knew that there were six members of P.O.N.Y. So, it couldn't be him, because then Moon would have expected to fight six of us, not five."

"Unless," Dash said. "Moon knew that only five people were going to show up to the morgue. But I was on a top secret job. The only people who knew about it were Wilson, you guys, and…"

Suddenly, realization struck all of the girls like a bolt of lightning.

"Wait," Tara said. "Dash, there were no guards by the morgue. What if someone paid them off, so they wouldn't be able to show up?"

"That would mean," Dash said, the truth sinking in. "That someone wealthy would have to be able to do it. Someone who wouldn't want any evidence that they were connected to Hammonick's death. If Moon wasn't found, then…"

"Then no one would be able to protect George's son from another assassination attempt," Tara finished. "Which means, the company would fall to…"

No one said anything else. They didn't need to. Their minds finally clicked together, the puzzle finally fitting into place. It became quite apparent what needed to be done.

"Tara, I have an idea," Dash said, pulling a slip of paper out of her pocket. "McCarther gave this to me back at the strip club. He said he wants to offer me a job. Tomorrow, ten o'clock." Tara read the address, as a plan started to form in her mind.

"Okay," Tara said. "Here's what we do…"

___________

With brilliant execution, the other girls sprang through the four open windows, guns blazing. Tiny and Brutus immediately dove for cover behind the wooden tables. As gunshots rang around her, Moon remained motionless, watching the P.O.N.Y's land in the room and spring back into action without missing a beat. Fiona stayed back with Tara and Dash, as AJ and Pinky shot at the wooden table where Tiny and Brutus were hiding.

"Tiny," Brutus shouted over the gunfire. "I'll be the distraction. You flank on the right when I say so." Tiny nodded, as he prepared to move. However, one of Pinky's shots passed straight through the weakened wood, and struck Brutus in the head. Brutus collapsed to the ground, dead, as Tiny gasped in shock.

"Ricky!" Tiny yelled out in sorrow. "Damn you! Damn you all! You've killed the man I loved!"

Despite the rather extreme circumstances, Dash couldn't help but crack up into laughter.

"Holy Shit!" Dash shouted with pleasant surprise. "You two really did jerk each other off in a K-Mart bathroom!"

"Focus, Dash!" Tara instructed over the gunfire, although Dash's laughter hardly stiffled. Tara couldn't help but notice Moon standing in the corner. Moon didn't interfere; she just watched. Moon was wearing the same outfit she was wearing yesterday, The outfit actually worried her a bit. While the day before, she thought Moon had simply put on a random assortment of clothes, now, Tara got to see the impressive design of the uniform. Moon's heels and gloves were sharper than steel, and her vest contained many spots that she could be hiding some sort of weapon. Not to mention, Tara saw Moon's legendary sniper rifle attached to her back. Moon calmly watched as Tiny attempted to fire back at the girls, only for Pinky to gun him down. With the guards dead, Moon suddenly attracted all of the attention in the room.

"Freeze, Moon!" Tara commanded. The other girls quickly approached Moon, trapping her in the corner of the room. With four guns pointed at her head, and a sword aimed at her throat, Moon casually raised her hands in the air.

"Nice work, ladies," said Moon, completely unfazed by the death of her comrades. "Though I have to say, you were a little sloppy in your entrance. The pink-haired one dove through about a second late, and I don't even think you remembered to give her a gun."

"Shut up," Tara ordered. "You'll be taken in for questioning. Move, and we end you."

"Do you really think arresting me will stop anything?" Moon asked, grinning. "Do you have any idea what you are up against? For all of the work you girls think you have done, you are always three steps behind us."

"Us?" Tara wondered aloud. "Whose 'us'?" Moon smirked.

"You know who," Moon said. "Or rather, I suppose you don't." Dash groaned, and took a step forward.

"Alright, that's enough out of you," Dash said angrily. "If you don't mind, Spark, I'm going to have to wound your prisoner here. Nothing personal."

"Wait, Dash," Tara said. "What are you-"

Smack

Dash's fist brutally collided with Moon's facing, causing the assassin to collapse to the floor. Moon held her jaw, as Tara grabbed onto Dash's shoulder.

"Dash!" Tara yelled. "That's way too far!" Dash's smug expression immediately dropped, and Dash took a step back with great humility.

"Right," Dash said. "Sorry." Tara groaned and walked over to Moon. Tara grabbed onto Moon's vest, and hoisted her off of the ground.

However, it was the exact moment Moon had been waiting for. As Moon was raised off of the ground, she suddenly dived back down and delivered a sweep to Tara's legs. Using her momentum, Moon sprung up onto Pinky, her claws violently tearing away Pinky's guns out of her hands. In panic, AJ tried to fire at Moon, but she found the woman to be moving to rapidly to hit. Before she knew it, Moon was right on top of her. AJ was disarmed of her weapon and thrown to the ground. As Tara got back up, Fiona and Dash charged at Moon. However, like a serpent, Moon, slid away from the corner, and into the center of the room. Holding up her own pistol, which she had modified since the previous night, Moon shot the pistol out of Rachel's hands, smiling at the improvements to the gun's accuracy.

"Okay, you bastards," Moon said. She slowly took off her right glove, revealing more tally marks across her hand. "I'm ready. Come at me! Come on! I dare you. I need to cut again. I need to bleed again. I need to feel your blood spraying over me! Let the hunter and the prey become one!"

"Lady," Dash sneered. "You seriously need to get yourself on some medication."

Moon laughed. A cold, wicked laugh that chilled Tara deep to the bone. It was quite clear that Moon was confident on her own survival. Tara readied herself, sword in hand, waiting for Moon to make the first move.

"Come on," Moon said with a wicked smile, blue eyes penetrating through the girls. "It's time to die."

"HEY, EVERYBODY!" A voice suddenly called from above.

Tara was confused. It certainly wasn't from anyone that Tara had heard before. The voice was deep, rugged, and carried with it a hard accent. Everyone in the room looked up at the windows. Two men were perched in the windows, one on either side of the room. The man to Tara's left spoke again.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the man said towards Moon, with a curious look upon his face. "But… are you trying to kill these young ladies?" Moon didn't know what to say to the two odd gentlemen who had suddenly appeared in the windows.

"Uh…yes?" Moon managed to say, rather confused.

The man shook his head.

"Oh, we can't let you do that," the man explained. He and the other man jumped down from the windows, shaking the ground as they landed. Landing in the moonlight, Tara could make out some features of the men.

The man on her left had short brown hair, uncombed and untidy. He had a very rugged look about him, with a square face and cleft chin. He had stubble covering his face, and he smiled a most cruel and sick smile. He wore a large black coat and jeans; something that looked just bought a clothing store. The man on the right was much taller than the other, his hair black, but equally messy. A bushy black beard was what this man had on his head, which covered half of his face. He didn't smile or frown; his face remained straight, nothing fazing through him. He wore almost identical clothing, with one rather glaring exception. His large coat was fur, and the sleeves were ripped off past his biceps. However, that was not the glaring feature. Rather, that was his arms. His muscular arms were red. Not in any light sense of the word, but rather, the entirety of the skin on his arms was bright red, and his arm appeared to be almost crystalline in nature. Both men were rather large in stature, both easily over six and a half feet in height. They were incredibly strong in build, and looked to be an immense challenge to fight.

"See," continued the first man. "You want to kill these girls. And that…" the man cracked his neck. "…is our job."

"AJ," Tara whispered to her friend. "Who the hell are these guys?"

"I…" stammered AJ, who was busy being equally confused by the appearance of the two men. "I have no idea. But I don't like the look of 'em."

"Now," said the man. "If you would please leave-"

Suddenly, Moon dove at the man with lightning speed. Her gloved hand extended, she attempted to claw at his face. However, the man dodged the blow, and retaliated with a quick blow to the stomach. Moon froze from the impact. She clutched her stomach in agony. Moon felt like she was going to sick. She looked up at the man in disdain. He smiled back at her, his face showing nothing but cockiness and arrogance. Moon tried to get up, but suddenly felt a large foot force her down from behind. Moon couldn't even push herself up; the sheer weight of the other man forced her down on her chest.

"Who…" Moon managed to cough out, as she felt her ribs snapping like twigs. "Who the fuck are you?" The cocky man laughed.

"You cannot recognize the best mercenaries in the world?" the man asked with a smug grin. He pointed at himself. "Yuri Korbalov."

He pointed at the other man.

"Kristov Korbalov."

He pointed at Moon.

"Deceased."

Moon choked on her own blood, as she felt each of her organs shattering under the intense weight.

"But…" Moon said with a squeak. "But… I thought…I…"

Moon could say no more. The pressure proved to be too much for her, and her will to live simply gave out on her. With one final breath, her existence had been extinguished. Kristov removed his boot from Moon's back. Suddenly, the two men turned their attention to the girls, who had just witnessed the horrific, frightful, painful massacre right before their very eyes.

"So," spoke Yuri with everlasting glee. "Who wants to die next?"

End of Chapter 5

Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos (Hell Walks Among Us)

Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos

Part 1 of 2: Hell Walks Among Us

November 3rd, 2015

To say the recent events were unnerving would be an understatement. The rather sudden change of events not only caught the girls by surprise, but also terrified them greatly. They had known that they would most likely be met with a strong opposing force, but little had they anticipated such a force to arrive in such a horrific and hellish manner. As it now stood, the Living Nightmare was dead, crushed underneath a large, powerful boot. The girls were faced with the two men, who had only referred to themselves as the "Korbalovs". It happened to be rather unfortunate for the girls that, for once, none of them had the slightest idea of who these two men were. The only things that they had managed to gather was that they were Russian, they were strong, and that, apparently, the Korbalovs had every intention of killing every last one of them.

"AJ," Tara whispered to her friend, unable to hide the growing concern in her voice. "Who are these guys?" Tara, in the recent weeks, had come to greatly trust AJ with supplying ample information about their foes. However, as Tara noticed AJ's confused expression, she couldn't help but suddenly feel very scared.

"I told ya, already… I don't know," AJ admitted, staying in a fighting stance. This news certainly did not help the unease among the girls, especially since it became noticeable that AJ was equally worried of the Korbalovs. It was a large series of factors that caused such a disturbing presence in the air that night. The way the men looked was not very comforting. The man named Yuri had a cocky grin spread over his face, showing no doubt or hesitation in fighting. He eyed the girls like prey, a hungry wolf waiting to feed. The other man, Kristov, did not share the same joy as his brother. In fact, his face remained unfazed. Despite breaking through the rib-cage of the world's greatest assassin, he refused to show any emotion. In fact, he wasn't even looking at the girls, much more focused on a particular spot on the orphanage floor that was located slightly to his left.

There was something even more unsettling, though, and it was the clear lack of humanity present in both men. Tara could see it in their eyes. They didn't seem to particularly care about who they were killing. Tara wondered if they perhaps enjoyed the act, as she still had little idea of why the Korbalovs had suddenly appeared. It was actually rather concerning, as Tara thought about it more. How did they know where the girls were going to be that night? Had they known about Melanie Moon and McCarther, or was it just chance that they showed up to stop the vile creatures?

"Hey!" Dash suddenly shouted out, seemingly reading Tara's thoughts. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?" At this comment, Yuri shrugged, a smirk placed upon his lips.

"Isn't it obvious?" Yuri stated, as if it were supposed to be the most well-known fact in the world. "Let me spell it out for you. We. Are. Going. To. Kill you. Simple as that."

The girls tensed up, readying themselves for an attack.

"Tara," Rachel whispered, her voice shaking. "These guys are starting to freak me out."

"Stay calm," Tara ordered. "We've dealt with worse stuff than this. These two are just another bunch of psychopaths."

In truth, however, Tara felt quite nervous about what seemed to be an inevitable fight. She didn't know why, but something seemed incredibly off about the two men. It was more than just their crazed eyes and powerful builds. She thought about this rationally. They were six well-trained fighters, all of which knew how to effectively kill, and all of which were prepped and ready to fight. But the men didn't bat an eye. They didn't take up any stances, or pull out any weapons.

They just stood there, one with a look of sheer delight, and the other with a trace of boredom.

"Come on," Yuri taunted. "Aren't you going to strike? You can have first punch. We are very kind gentlemen. There is no need for you ladies to die so rapidly. I mean, we should first talk this out, mayb-"

"Yuri," Kristov suddenly interrupted, his eyes never moving from the ground. "Do you really have to go through this routine every time? Let' just do this job and go back home." Yuri scoffed.

"Jesus Christ, Kristov," Yuri said with a smirk. "Learn to live a little."

Yuri turned back to the girls.

"Anyway," he continued. "You look menacing. Slightly. I believe that this fight should be suiti-"

BANG

Yuri was interrupted as a bullet suddenly whizzed through the air, connecting with his forehead. Yuri barely had time to register the event before the momentum from the shot threw him backwards, as he landed on the ground with a thud. Yuri remained unmoving, blood running down his face, as Kristov finally moved his eyes away from the ground to look his younger brother. His eyebrows raised slightly, but he did not seem to be too affected by it.

However, the girls were quite stunned by this, and turned around to see Pinky holding the gun, her sights focused on Yuri's body. Noticing the rather shocked attention she was getting, Pinky nervously lowered the gun and looked around.

"What?" Pinky asked, confused. "Don't tell me none of you guys thought of that? He was begging for it!" Tara breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Pinky," Tara said gratefully. "That was one of the wisest things I've ever seen. Remind me to buy you some cookies later, alright?" Pinky practically jumped for joy.

"Sweet!" Pinky said happily, already dreaming of the sugary snack she could enjoy later. Smiling, Tara turned her attention back to Kristov. He had not moved, simply staring at his brother with an emotionless glare. While Tara felt relieved that one of the unnerving men had been slayed, something else bothered her. Tara didn't know from experience, but she had the rather strong feeling that the death of a sibling would provoke a large range of emotions. Perhaps, it was more similar to the experience when Tara witnessed her classmates die, or Rachel as witnessed Spyke die: shock. But usually with shock, Tara figured, there would be some gape of the mouth, or shortness of breath, or anything indicating horror. And yet, despite his brother being killed right in front of him, Kristov remained uncaring of his brother's demise.

But why? What could possibly be causing him to suppress his emotions so greatly?

"Yuri," Kristov said, his voice containing no sadness or anger. "Are you alright?"

It was quite the ridiculous question. Clearly, Yuri Korbalov was not alright; anyone intelligent could see this. But the question was spoken with such normality and bluntness that it seemed that Kristov was honest in his questioning. Only Tara seemed to notice this question being asked, however, as the rest of the girls appeared to be only half paying attention to the surrounding events. The rest of their attention was focused on the sensational relief of Yuri's demise, with the exception of Pinky, who was still day-dreaming about the wondrous nature of large, chocolaty cookies.

And then, someone started to laugh.

It was a low laugh, starting at a deep chuckle before slowly rising up in volume, turning into a breathless cackling. As it grew, it couldn't help but draw the attention of the girls. The laughter held an almost evil quality to it, as if it would snatch the souls of all who listened to it. The source wasn't hard to locate, but when it was finally found, it didn't seem possible.

Unless Tara was horribly mistaken, it sounded to her like it was coming from Yuri's body. Now that she heard it louder, she was absolutely certain that it came from Yuri Korbalov. All of the relief Tara had felt was instantly replaced with feelings of unease and terror. Suddenly, Tara thought she saw Yuri's hand twitch. But it was impossible, so Tara knew she must have imagined it.

And yet, there it was again. A twitch in Yuri's right hand; just a subtle movement of the index finger, but enough to attract attention of everyone in the area.

And then, Yuri started to move again. A long groan was let out from the seemingly dead body. The right arm slowly rose, before collapsing on Yuri's head. Yuri's legs twitched, his knees shook a little as very slowly, he sat up, taking a deep breath, and then once again started laughing like a madman. Yuri's hand was clutched against his forehead. Blood ran down his face and his fingers. If Yuri was feeling pain, he was no longer showing any signs of it.

"Ow," Yuri finally groaned out. "That stung a bit."

Tara was unable to move. Neither was anyone else. Tara blinked once, and then twice. Shock was starting to come over her. Pinky, who before had been so proud of her shot, now stood frozen, her mouth gaping open and blue eyes unblinking. Dash held her hand to her own forehead, staring in shock at the men. Fiona, who was previously starting to feel comfortable, was now slowly retreating to the back of the group, feeling very intense anxiety. Rachel's legs shook ferociously, as the British girl felt like she was unable to move, too stunned to perform any action. AJ reassumed her fighting stance, trying to block out her confusion and fear with pure adrenaline.

Tara thought that it had to be some sort of trick. Perhaps Pinky had missed, or Yuri was wearing armor of some kind. Maybe, for whatever reason, he had pretended that he had been killed, because of some terrible sense of humor. Anything would provide suitable explanation for what she just witnessed. For if it wasn't anything else, Tara would have to accept the physically impossible as being reality, something which she wasn't sure she could comprehend. Slowly, Yuri adjusted his weight, and rose to his feet, his hand still held to his forehead. Kristov groaned.

"You looked like you were actually out for a few seconds," Kristov said, not very amused by his brother's apparent resurrection. Yuri shrugged.

"Well, I got to make it look convincing," Yuri flashed a grin. He gestured towards the bewildered girls. "They looked rather happy there for a few moments. I always enjoy the reactions."

Kristiov rolled his eyes. "You enjoy this far too much, brother," he said, rather annoyed.

Tara was still in disbelief. She was trying to register everything, but her brain kept refuting it. Yuri, who had just been shot in the head, was now conversing with his brother as if it were an everyday occurrence. At this time, Yuri now removed his hand from his head, and Tara looked at his head in shock, all of her doubt fading away into nothingness.

The bullet, now crumpled and bent, was lodged prominently into Yuri's skull. The wound itself was not deep at all, and the bullet mostly stuck out of Yuri's head. Tara realized that there was no way it could be some kind of trick. There would be no reason for it anyhow. The girls cringed as Yuri suddenly grabbed onto the bullet and, with a brief tug, yanked it out of his skull and tossed it to the ground. The blood continued ever more so, the wound now wider in his skin, as Yuri chuckled at the girls reactions. It wasn't anything any of them knew how to handle. There was only one thing perfectly clear to them, which horrified them ever more so.

Yuri Korbalov had just survived a bullet to the head.

"What… how…" was all Tara could muster out, barely a whisper. "He… he just…"

"Who the fuck are these guys?" Dash said, her calm persona now completely gone. She too had been in quite a state of duress. However, instead of being frozen in fear, her concern gave rise to anger, and a ferocious determination to fight overcame her. "You fucking freaks of nature!"

Dash took a step forward, challenging the two men.

"You think you're so fucking tough?!" Dash called out angrily. Dash understood that the Korbalovs were clearly trying to intimidate the girls. She refused to let these men scare her into submission. She didn't know how Yuri had survived such a wound, but she wasn't at all fazed by it. "Why don't you stop fucking around, and fight us already, you overgrown pussies!"

Yuri couldn't help but crack an even larger smile. At last, he took up a fighting stance, smiling away the entire time.

"Whatever you say," Yuri said happily.

Suddenly, as Dash got ready to attack, she felt someone quickly shove her aside. Dash nearly lost her balance as Pinky angrily pushed her way forward, now carrying two guns and pointing them at the Korbalovs.

"MOVE, DASH!" Pinky angrily commanded. Being a self-proclaimed expert in the field of firearms, Pinky knew exactly what a gunshot did to the human skull. Pinky couldn't say that she understood much in the world, but what she did understand was that it was impossible to survive what Yuri just encountered. She may have believed in many strange things, like a teleporting devil-man who wielded a katana, but she refused to believe that a .40 caliber bullet did not do the same damage as a .40 caliber bullet. Pinky knew that it had to be some sort of trick; some sort of shielding that prevented the damage. And if she were to catch him off guard, then maybe, just maybe, Pinky thought that she could break through the barrier. Convinced of this theory, Pinky wasted no time in unloading the clips into the two men before her.

Kristov was ready. Suddenly moving with great speed, Kristov slid in front of his brother, and raised his crimson arms in front of his face. The bullets bounced off of his arms like rubber. Every time a bullet struck his arm, that section of his forearms seemed to light up, almost as they were setting off ripples in water. As the firing stopped, Yuri suddenly sprang out from behind his brother, and made a mad dash towards Pinky. The blonde girl barely had time to jump back as a large fist impacted the floor where she previously stood. The rapid attack knocked Tara out of her stupor, and she finally regained rational thought. She immediately gave the order to charge at the two brothers. Tara lunged herself at Yuri, while AJ immediately charged towards Kristov. Dash leapt as Yuri as well, and, after a brief moment's hesitation, Fiona began to run after AJ.

Despite the attacks that were now being thrown at him from multiple angles, Yuri kept his focus on Pinky. He lunged at her once again, and once again she jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding a powerful fist. Seeing a wide open opportunity, Pinky balanced herself one leg, kicking forward at Yuri, who was still following through with his attack. The goal of the kick was to deliver a stunning blow to Yuri's head, biding some time for the others.

However, her goals never reached fruition.

With great speed, Yuri unexpectedly reached upwards, grabbing ahold of Pinky's ankle with his left hand. He tucked Pinky's foot under his arm, so that her shin stuck out from behind. He raised his free arm, and then brought his elbow down hard upon Pinky's kneecap. The joint resisted the force of the elbow for a few moments, but eventually, it could not sustain the great pressure put upon it. The knee gave way, the elbow pressing the joint to the ground. With a sickening crack, the knee snapped backwards, now bent in the precise opposite direction in which it was supposed to be. The horror of seeing her leg contorted out of place reached Pinky before the actual pain did. For about a second, Pinky felt absolute numbness.

After that, she felt nothing but intense agony.

Pinky screamed as her nerves lit up throughout her leg. The scream was bloodcurdling, so much that the girls had suddenly frozen in place at the terrifying sound. However, the pain was not yet over. Yuri, smiling happily, removed Pinky's broken limb from beneath his arm, and raised her leg high in the air. The rapid movement sent shockwaves through Pinky's body, and she screamed again. She felt as if she was losing all of her energy. Pinky could no longer support her own body weight, and her other leg fell limb beneath her. She only remained suspended through Yuri's grip, which only doubled her pain. But just as Pinky thought that she had experienced the worst pain in her life, Yuri gave her the unfortunate pleasure of being wrong.

Suddenly leaning forward, Yuri lifted his left leg in the air. Shifting her broken limb, he suddenly kicked towards Pinky's left leg. His thick boot collided with her left knee, and soon, that too cracked under the pressure, breaking sideways, snapping the ligaments in the leg as it went, shattering the bones into fragments. Pinky wanted to scream again, but felt as though she couldn't. She couldn't muster any more strength for it; her brain was too focused on dealing with the unbearable pain.

Feeling contempt with his work Yuri released his grip on Pinky, letting her limp form fall to the floor. Pinky collapsed with a thud, her body shuddering in agony. Her legs lie broken on the floor, bent in two horrible directions. Pinky's fingers twitched and her lips trembled, as the pain caused her movements to spaz out of control. Pinky just stared into the ceiling, her once happy blue eyes now filled with tears, as Pinky waited for the moment when she would finally pass out from the pain.

It was hard for Pinky to not attract attention from the others. Her cries sent shivers down the spines of the P.O.N.Y's. Tara felt horrified. The situation seemed to be slowly unraveling before her. First, the Korbalovs come out from literally nowhere, and kill one of the greatest assassin's in the world with little effort. Then, one of them gets shot in the head, and survives. And now, one of her best friends was lying crippled on the ground, her legs horribly mutilated. It seemed almost too much to bear. But instead of letting her fear take over, Tara tried to bet imitate Dash, and let it become fuel for her anger.

Tara readjusted her grip on her blade, and with a ferocious yell, charged at Yuri. Yuri sidestepped the attack, only to have to dodge a punch from Dash. Tara slashed at Yuri repeatedly, hoping that anything would land on the behemoth. Every time Tara would miss a swing, Dash would come from behind the girl and attempt to land a hit as well, before retreating back behind the blade. It was an effective system that was starting to push Yuri backwards to the wall.

Meanwhile, the fight against Kristov was being met with rather mixed results, as AJ had no idea whether her attacks had any effect on the man. Kristov kept his arms raised in defense, but aside from that, he did very little to avoid any attacks. Fiona's constant kicks were blocked with his massive arms, the impact seemingly causing no impact to the man. Occasionally, Kristov would throw a punch, but AJ and Fiona were able to dodge the slow attacks with relative ease. The three found seemingly themselves in a relative stalemate, neither party able to inflict damage on the other. Yuri, on the other hand, was now clearly on the defensive, the rapid nature of Tara and Dash's attacks keeping him against the wall. However, despite being in a disadvantageous position, Yuri kept smiling away.

"Come on!" Yuri taunted. "Try harder than that!" Tara was swinging her sword as fast as she could, but Yuri somehow dodged every attack. Most of which he ducked underneath; on the occasions he tried to sidestep, Dash forced him back. The cycle repeated itself many a time, and during the entire period, Tara felt nothing but rage. Every slash of her sword was driven with anger; all of her attacks were carrying the pain of her friend with them. Tara pushed herself further, her strained arms burning as she fought Yuri with all the energy she could muster. But just as Tara was finally pushing Yuri to the brink, he suddenly called out to his brother.

"Kristov! END THIS!"

Kristov was still locked in battle with Fiona and AJ when he heard Yuri. Kristov paused briefly, and AJ saw it as an opening to attack. AJ's fist rocketed out towards Kristov's head, but Kristov was as frozen as he appeared. As AJ's right fist shot out, Kristov launched forward a punch of his own. With uncanny accuracy, Kristov's hand collided into AJ's, and the southern girl immediately felt the result. At the moment of impact, her knuckles shatter from the force, crunching her fingers back into her hand. The shock of the punch vibrated through her arm, cracking the bone as it went. When the vibrations reached her elbow, the joint was twisted out of his socket, springing outwards at a sharp angle. AJ was swept off her feet from the impact, and she fell to the ground with a hard thud. AJ yelped; despite her vast combat experience, it still hurt her very badly when her arm was splintered. As AJ fell to the ground, she couldn't help but notice several things. She saw Kristov quickly turning around assaulting Fiona at a lightning speed, so much that Fiona was finding it hard to dodge more of his attacks. AJ saw Yuri finally manage to roll away from the wall, leaping back to the center of the room.

And then, AJ noticed something she had never noticed before. AJ saw Rachel standing in the corner of the room, completely frozen. Rachel didn't get involved in the fight at all. All she did was stare at the battle with unblinking eyes, watching chaos unravel before her.

To be fair, Rachel was about to involve herself in the battle before Pinky got hurt. She had never considered herself a particularly good fighter, but she had felt like she needed to help her friends. But then, she saw what happened to her blonde friend; how Yuri snapped her legs like toothpicks. How he seemed to enjoy every agonizing yell that emerged from her body. How he took the utmost pride in Pinky's unbearable pain. After that, Rachel couldn't move. It wasn't like she didn't want to fight, but her body wouldn't respond to her commands. Her legs shook, and Rachel felt shame. Even Fiona, the most easily scared person in the world, was taking up a fight against these men. But Rachel couldn't do it. Just seeing Pinky sprawled out on the floor, barely moving, sent her into a state of near shock. To Rachel, everything seemed surreal from that point onwards. It was as if everything happened in a deep haze, one which Rachel simply couldn't escape from, no matter how hard she tried.

Rachel watched as AJ fell to the ground and clutched her arm in agony, trying to muster enough will to get back in the fight. Rachel saw how Dash's movements quickened as the rainbow-haired girl got more anxious with each passing second. Rachel saw Dash launch a risky attack towards Yuri's legs. She witnessed Yuri effortlessly dodge, and then, with brutal efficiency, deliver a swift kick to Dash's midsection. The force of the blow cracked Dash's hip, and she skidded across the floor, groaning in aching misery. Rachel saw Tara try to retaliate, bringing her sword down vertically upon Yuri's head. However, Yuri cupped his hands together, and caught the blade above his head, mere inches from striking his skull. Yuri smirked, and then kicked a shocked Tara hard in the stomach. Rachel saw Tara double over, as she coughed up blood over the floor. Rachel could tell that Tara had probably just ruptured another organ, seeing the glazed, pained look in her eyes. After a few seconds, Tara could no longer support herself, and collapsed to the floor, her blade hitting the ground with a clang. Rachel looked back at Kristov and Fiona, everything still hazy to her. Rachel saw Fiona stare at Tara's crumple form, before the shy girl immediately charged at Yuri in a full sprint, a look of anger that Rachel had never seen the likes of. It appeared as if Fiona shouted something at the Russian; Rachel couldn't tell. Everything was still too surreal to comprehend. Fiona dove after Yuri in a ferocious manner, however, Kristov grabbed onto her foot from behind. Using her momentum, Kristov swung Fiona around and slammed her into the nearby wall. Fiona was dropped to the ground, her nose broken in four places, and her face dripping with blood.

It was like a nightmare. That was the closest thing Rachel could compare it to. She was trying to understand everything that was happening around her. Rachel had just witnessed all of her friends being taken out one by one, painfully and mercilessly. Rachel didn't know how it could be real. She had seen her allies take on the criminal underworld, crazed assassins, and demonic warriors. It didn't seem possible that they could have fallen so easily. That didn't change the fact that as she shook in fear, her friends were slowly dying in front of her. Rachel didn't want to admit it t herself, but she seemed to slowly be accepting that as reality.

They were dying.

Rachel started to panic, even more than she already was. It was one of the worst feelings she had ever felt. She saw her friends in trouble, but she did nothing to help, and she could do nothing to prevent it. Yuri walked up to Fiona, and examined her. After deciding that she had not early suffered enough, Yuri stomped on Fiona's arm, hearing the satisfying breaking of bone beneath his boot.

"Yuri," Kristov spoke disapprovingly. Yuri ignored him, now walking over to Tara, placing his boot on her chest. He slowly applied pressure down upon Tara, hearing her breath rush out of her as her ribs were splintering.

"Yuri, that's enough," Kristov said more sternly. Despite his clear disapproval of Yuri's actions, he didn't even attempt to halt his brother. Yuri looked out of the corner of his eye, and saw AJ rising to her feet. Her right arm lay limp by her side, but she did her best to assume a fighting stance. She glared angrily at Yuri, however, AJ's focus was primarily on Rachel. Rachel saw AJ looking at her, but didn't respond. She couldn't tell if the experienced agent was angry at her or scared for her. Rachel felt humiliated once again. Now, even AJ was proving her worth, despite her gruesome injury. AJ snapped her eyes back to Yuri. Yuri prepared to charge at the girl, knowing full well that he could take her in her wounded state.

"DIE, YOU FUCKING SADIST!" a voice from behind him suddenly called out. Yuri lunged to the side as Dash jumped down from behind him, swinging the butterfly knife that was previously owned by Melanie Moon, that of which she stole from the base. Dash wasted no time in attacking again. Dash held the knife with the blade extended downward, as she took a series of slashes at Yuri's face. AJ soon joined in, and the two girls were now trying to keep up with the mad Russian. However, Kristov did not join to help his brother. Rather, he focused his attention on Rachel, who was still staring at the chaotic battleground in a nightmarish haze. Kristov hadn't bothered noticing her presence before, but now, all he could do was stare at her with the same emotionless expression she had seen all night. Rachel noticed him staring at her. She didn't try to run away or fight, and he didn't try to attack. Both of the simply stood in place, looking at the other; Kristov looking at Rachel with curiosity, and Rachel looking at Kristov in terror.

Meanwhile, AJ quickly discovered that she was fighting a losing battle. No matter how much training she had, being restricted of her dominant arm was a severe handicap. AJ could strike as accurately with her left hand, and when she was fighting an opponent that seemed to be near invincible to begin with, her chances of victory were slim. Dash didn't seem to slow down her attack, however. Dash didn't show any signs of injury. In fact, she seemed to be attacking even faster now, her muscles pushing themselves to the limit as they moved at a rapidly increasing pace. AJ almost stopped fighting completely to watch such an amazing feat of rage. With one broken hip, Dash moved with the speed and ferocity of a lion, and her cries of anger mixed with pain sounded equally animalistic. Unfortunately, even at Dash's ultimate speed, she still couldn't land a single hit. Eventually, Yuri got tired of dodging useless strikes. As Dash swung again, Yuri reached out and clutched her hand, crushing it in his own. Dash was forced to drop the knife from the pain.

AJ attempted to run in and help Dash, but Kristov suddenly reentered the fray. Grabbing on to the back of AJ's shirt, he slammed her against the wall with ruthless force. AJ was stunned for a moment, before her instincts started screaming at her to dodge. At the last possible moment, AJ moved her head to the side, as Kristov's enormous fist struck the wall. The red hand burst through the wall, and when he pulled it back out, some of the concrete came with it. Kristov grabbed onto AJ's shirt with his other hand, and forced her back into place, before kneeing her had in the stomach. AJ bent over, trying to compose herself, but Kristov struck her twice more, and finally, succeeded in knocking her unconscious from the sheer stress on her body. Dash didn't fare any better. While still holding Dash's arm in a tight grip, Yuri picked up the butterfly knife of the ground. Looking at it for a brief moment, Yuri smirked.

Then, he lashed out with the blade. He dragged the blade upwards across Dash's face. While she was able to dodge most of the attack, Dash's speed let her down in the end. The knife dragged across her right eye, piercing through her cheek, barely scraping the lid of her eye, and scarring up another inch across Dash's face. Yuri let go of Dash as she fell to the ground screaming, cupping her eye as blood poured from the wound. Her misery did not last long however, as Yuri kicked her hard in the side, eliminating the rebellious girl from the realm of consciousness.

"Well, that was enjoyable," Yuri muttered to himself. "But not nearly as enjoyable as it could be!"

Yuri went back to his prior work, walking over to the girls' bodies, and delivering more harsh blows. Rachel shook every time a hit was landed. The nightmare was in full effect now. No one could fight against Yuri's tremendous blows. Rachel watched in horror as Yuri kicked Pinky in her wounded legs, causing her to whimper. Rachel remained unblinking as Yuri decided to stomp on Fiona's other arm, shattering it like glass. As she watched, all Rachel could do was feel worthless. She watched blood erupt from mouths, bones burst forth from the skin, limbs nearly being torn away from torsos, and all she could do was stand and watch, like a spineless coward.

And then something finally snapped inside of her. She couldn't take the resounding feelings of terror and guilt. Rachel had gone through the last two years of her life feeling worthless. She had always pretended to be helpful, but in reality, her feeble excuses for generosity have never truly been of any worth; she had known it for such a long time, but she tried her best to ignore it. Now, as she hid in fear as her friends were having their lives beaten out of them, she knew she could take it no longer. Every truthful, horrible thought struck her as hard as her friends were being struck with punches. Rachel's hand curled itself into a fist, and suddenly, she saw the world clearly again. The Korbalovs weren't paying any attention to her. Kristov was busy looking disapprovingly at his brother, who was stomping repeatedly on Tara's chest. Her lips twisted into a scowl, her teeth clenched, and her eyes burned with fury.

Rachel Germain didn't know what she would be able to do, but she refused to be worthless any more.

With a painful vengeance, she charged headfirst at Yuri. Kristov looked towards her as she approached, but did nothing to stop her. Now merely a few feet away from her target, Rachel leapt into the air, her leg bent. With incredible velocity, her foot swung out, and collided with the back of Yuri's head. Rachel landed on the ground facing away from Yuri, a smile of achievement on her face. But as she looked back, she saw that Yuri was still standing, his head simply bent forward form the impact. He turned quizzically at her, and then, upon seeing her, started to chuckle.

"Hey, Kristov," Yuri said calmly. "We missed one."

As Rachel's mood rapidly dropped, and her panic came back in full force, she heard a strange sound. It was almost a loud humming; a vibrating that slowly increased in volume. Rachel nervously turned her head towards the source. The sound was coming from Kristov, or more specifically, his arm. Kristov's right arm was starting to glow, it color shifting from crimson to nearly white. Kristov clenched his fist as the humming increased in volume, now excessively loud. Kristov slowly pulled his arm back, as the arm itself was now nearly white, his fist still a light red. With enormous power, Kristov slammed his arm into the ground, and the floor shook as if an mighty earthquake was occurring.

The next thing Rachel knew she was flying through the air very rapidly, before she slammed into the wall with great momentum. She heard the cracking of bones, although she had no idea which ones they were. She slid down the wall, and remained lying still at the base of the wall, a large dent in the concrete now above her. Through her hazy vision, she saw Kristov's arm return to its crimson nature, as the large man walked over to Tara.

"I think that's enough fun for you, Yuri," Kristov said sternly. "It's time to put them out of their misery."

"Wait, wait, wait," Yuri said, waving rapidly in the air. His face was contorted into a wicked grin, one of which that was only worn by men with the most disturbing thoughts. "Who says we have to kill them? I mean, we could always-"

"No!" Kristov said harshly. It was the most emotion that he had shown all night, and it was clear he knew exactly what his brother wanted. "We have a job to do. A very well paying job. We are not disrupting our business so you can interact your sadistic thoughts on these girls."

"Come on, Kristov!" Yuri laughed. "I need to relieve some stress. Besides, that Discord guy said he wanted them to suffer, and die slow. He even said that the more they are in pain,and the longer it lasts, the more we get paid! Who are we to disappoint a customer?"

"They're just kids!" Kristov yelled. "Look at them! They've suffered enough tonight. Hell, they've probably suffered enough for the rest of their lives. Who even knows why someone would want to kill these little girls? Clearly, the punishment has been served. Let's kill them, and go home. I hate the States."

Yuri groaned, and then looked at Rachel. He suddenly regained his grin.

"She hasn't suffered," Yuri said, pointing at the girl. Kristov looked at the semi-conscious girl on the floor. "How about this, then? You want to be humanitarian? Fine. We leave these girls alive. Someone will surely find them, and maybe, they might get treatment, so they could almost walk normally again. But, in order to protect our code of trust, we take the busty one back with us to the place, and see what we can learn. I'm sure that girl could tell us plenty of good information. I would sure like to know what a girl like her is doing here. Who knows, maybe we could even find out who that Discord guy is. After that, once the girls recover, and we know why we should kill them, we end their lives (or beat them again, then let them die), get the payment for letting them suffer, and then everyone is happy. They live a few extra days, you get to be a good person, I get to interrogate someone, and Discord gets to see them in agony. What do you think about that?"

Kristov frowned. He didn't really know how to respond. His brother had never acted beyond his instincts for destruction. Kristov knew full well what would happen if Yuri didn't have someone to take his anger out on. Kristov was never entirely interested in their particular business practice like Yuri was. Honestly, the intense physical pain he caused never amused him, and he didn't enjoy letting his victims suffer, especially if they appeared to be six perfectly average teenage girls (albeit one of them was holding a katana, and another had incredibly accurate aim with a handheld weapon, which he couldn't explain). He didn't know how much the girls were suffering, but he knew that it could not be pleasant.

He was faced with two very upsetting options. He could let the girls live, although one would be taken as hostage, which, with his brother involved, was never good for anybody. The second option was killing the girls, taking the money, going back home, and enjoy life. However, Yuri would be rather furious with the concept of letting them off with something as simple as death. And Yuri could get pretty violent when he was mad.

With this in mind, Kristov chose the option that clearly seemed like the more humanitarian thing to do.

"Take the girl," Kristov said bluntly, watching Yuri's face light up with glee. Yuri strolled over to Rachel, and hoisted her off of the ground. Rachel moaned in agony as she was slung over Yuri's shoulder, her body completely limp. The two men, now having decided upon allowing the girls to live, had nothing left to do. As such, Yuri and Kristov casually walked to the steps at the end of the hall. Kristov begrudgingly walked down the stairs. He at least felt some relief in the fact that most of the girls were unconscious. At least for now, they could not feel the horrendous damage that had been done to their bodies. Although it seemed cruel, Kristov knew that by keeping Yuri happy, more people ended up being much safer than they would have been otherwise. Yuri followed his brother, but suddenly stopped at the top of the stairs, remembering something. He turned back to the girls with a grin.

"Oh, by the way," Yuri said, not caring that no one could hear him. "Discord sends his regards, or something. I don't really care. Anyway, great fight you girls put up! Hope to do it again, sometime!" Yuri laughed with delight as he hopped down the stairs, causing Rachel to moan in pain with each step. They left the room as it was, completely deserted, save for the five girls on the floor, lying dormant as if they lay in their own tombs.

__________

AJ sat quietly in the dark room. Her expression was vacant. With wide eyes, she stared at the black table before her. She couldn't think of anything else to do. Maybe she could pray, she thought. She thought that perhaps, if she asked God nicely enough, He could wind back the clock, and prevent all of this from happening. But even with the most pure soul, no one could undo the cruel fate of time. So AJ just sat there, staring at the table. If she listened closely enough, she could hear people talking on the other side of the wall. But even if she had the will to strain her hearing, everything would still sound like murmurs and whispers.

The door slowly opened, and a man stepped in. It wasn't any one she had ever seen before. He was a rather large man, his muscular physique showing through his black T-shirt. A mop of deep red hair rested upon his head. Dark stubble covered his face. And for some reason AJ would not yet understand, he wore a pair of dark shades, despite the fact that the room was already dimly lit. The man, very cautiously, sat down at the other end of the table. AJ only glanced at the man, before resuming her long stare at the table. The man appeared very somber, as if he shared the same pain that she felt.

"Hello, miss," the man finally spoke up. His accent was thick, and sounded foreign to AJ's ears. She had no idea where the man was from, although she assumed that it was from a place in which everyone talked equally strange. The man continued.

"How are ya feelin'?" the man spoke again.

AJ didn't answer.

"I understand ya must be havin' a rough time," the man said. "But it'll be real nice of ya to talk with us."

"You talk funny," AJ finally spoke up, without moving her gaze. The man couldn't help but smile at the observation made by the young girl.

"Yeah, people tell me that often," the man said with a bright smile. "That's what ya get for bein' raised in Dallas."

The room became silent once again, as AJ showed no signs of cheering up. And considering what the young girl had been through, the man couldn't blame her.

"So," the man started to speak again. "Ya… want to tell me your name?" AJ remained silent, not moving. The man placed his hand upon his chest, and smiled again.

"My name is MacDonnell Clive," the man said. "People call me Mac."

"Hi, Mac," AJ said softly. "My… my name is AJ."

Mac smiled brightly once more.

"How old are you, AJ?" Mac asked, happy that the girl was starting to talk.

"Fi-five," AJ managed to stutter out.

"Okay," Mac spoke. "That's a nice hat you're wearing, by the way."

It was an attempt to cheer the girl up, but it immediately had the inverse effect. AJ's eyes were starting to water. The hat that Mac had mentioned was the last gift her mother had given her. AJ remembered how her mother had won her the Stetson at a carnival game, beating out several other people in the county. The mention of the object on her head brought back memories of her parents, and the times that they shared together. It was simply too much for her to bear. Slowly, AJ lifted her head to look at Mac, her big eyes wet with hot tears.

"I…" AJ slowly spoke. "I… I want my mom."

AJ started to cry fully at this point, unable to contain herself any more. She had been trying to suppress her emotions since earlier that day, but she felt like she could no longer control herself. Her whole body shook intensely with sobs, and her face turned bright red as tears streamed down her cheeks. Mac didn't know how to comfort her. He had never dealt with children before. So he simply sat there, watching the young girl experience absolute torment. AJ had lost track of time when her tears finally slowed. It wasn't as if she became any less sad; she had simply run out of tears to shed. As her sobs died out, AJ had finally come to grips with the harsh reality of her life.

Her family was dead.

And she was alone.

__________

November 4th, 2015

AJ slowly opened her eyes, and immediately wished that she was still unconscious. The pain in her arm and stomach was nearly unbearable. It took her a few minutes for the painful haze to wear off, and she tried to recognize her surroundings. Everything was white. She heart a constant clicking sound coming from her left, and several people talking right in front of her. But when she looked up, she saw that it was only a television mounted on the wall, which was constantly being flipped through its channels.

"It's about fucking time you woke up," AJ heard a voice say from beside her. AJ tried to move her head, but she was too weary to move. However, she slowly managed to shift her eyes, and noticed Dash lying in the bed beside her. Dash's gaze was locked on the television screen. The remote was in her hand, and she was constantly clicking a button with her thumb, watching the images change. Dash's expression was one of seriousness, and AJ could plainly see why. Over Dash's right eye, a fuzzy white patch had been placed, and bandages were wrapped around it to keep it in place.

"Man, some crazy shit has happened in the past day, wouldn't ya say?" Dash said normally. She didn't give any clear expression that would suggest that she was in pain, but AJ knew from the tone in her voice that Dash was rather upset. "Doc's been saying that the blade cut through my eyelid. Says I gotta wear this dumb fucking patch for a while, but I should be lucky that I'll be able to see again. My hand was nearly broken, too, and my hip got fucked up. Can't feel it though; lots of meds."

"What…" AJ tried to speak out. "What happened?" Dash shrugged.

"Well, you've been asleep for about fourteen hours," Dash started. "Basically, we got jumped. Haven't seen Wilson or Celestia around yet, so I don't have a fucking clue who those guys were. But they did some fucked up shit to us. A doctor came in earlier; said your elbow was snapped out of place, your arm shattered in five places, your fingers were broken and your bottom two ribs cracked. Honestly, sounds like fun. In fact, I think the doctor said they even found your hat, and brought it back here."

"But what happened to the others?" AJ asked, still feeling horrible. Out of the vast pain she had suffered in her life, she could certainly say that this set of injuries had cracked the top three. Dash took a deep sigh.

"Well," Dash said, somewhat somberly. "I hear it's not too good. Pinky's been having reconstructive surgery done on her knees since we got here. They said she will be lucky to walk again. Fiona's bones were apparently sticking out of her skin in four spots. She's been out cold, at least as far as I know. And Spark…" Dash paused. "Spark's got it bad too. Her stitches busted like a balloon, her intestines got sliced, seven of her ribs are broken, and she's in critical right now. I think she might still be in surgery, trying to get one of her organs pierced back together. I really don't know; haven't heard anything in hours."

The two girls said no more, letting the sounds of the television fill the room. AJ somberly thought of her friends, all of which seemed to have it far worse than she was. She felt like a complete failure. After all, she was the one who had asked for them to take up such a dangerous assignment. She felt like each of their injuries was her responsibility, and it was a burden that no one should have needed to carry. But then, AJ suddenly realized something about Dash's description, which worried her even more so.

"Wait, Dash," AJ said, concerned. "What happened to Rachel? Is she alright?" Dash frowned, and lowered her head.

"That's the thing," Dash admitted. "I asked one of the doc's about that. But he said that when he found us, there were just us five lying on the ground. Rachel wasn't found with us. I have no idea what happened to her. She could be dead, for all I know." However, AJ smirked.

"I wouldn't count on it," AJ said, happily. Dash looked at her friend, confused. AJ elaborated. "See, when we were fighting, I saw her hiding out. The big guys didn't even notice her. She probably escaped, and is back at Camelot right now."

"That is quite the good theory, Miss Balle," came a voice from the door. Dash and AJ saw General Wilson standing in the doorway, a very disappointed look on his face. "But Miss Germain is nowhere to be found. We checked every one of her preferred locations in the city, but she is simply missing."

"Wait," Dash said, fearfully. "You don't think that-"

"We'll have to wait to continue this conversation, Miss Dawson," the General stated. "I simply came in to see how you girls were holding up. When the others regain consciousness, then we'll discuss details."

"Wait, does that mean that everyone's alright?" Dash asked, full of hope. "Is Spark out of critical yet? Is she okay? What-"

"Calm down, Miss Dawson," Wilson said strictly. "The others are going to be fine. Miss Sullivan was returned to stable condition about two hours ago. Miss Samswell has been staying by her bedside the whole time. Once Miss Patrikson is out of surgery and awake, we can reconvene."

Wilson left the room, leaving the girls to wait alone. They assumed he went to check up on the others, but they honestly didn't care much where he went. It was quite obvious that there was a far more concerning matter at hand. AJ knew that the likelihood of all of the girls surviving this program was slim, but she didn't think that something like this could happen so soon. Worse, she didn't even know if Rachel was dead. AJ knew that the man named Yuri seemed to get great joy from causing others misery. It drove the most terrible ideas through her mind. What if Rachel was being tortured? What if they started ripping her limbs off one by one? What if they tore her throat open? The many "What if's" was too much for AJ to deal with. She stopped thinking about, and tried to focus on the task at hand. AJ only needed to wait a couple of more hours, and then, she could finally learn what the two monsters really were.

__________

Tara groaned. It was really all she could do. Breathing hurt her too much. Every time words came out of her mouth, it felt like fire was erupting from her heart. Tara took solace in the fact that she was not alone at this time. Celestia paced across from her, and Fiona sat on the edge of her bed, sorrowfully watching her as she lay. Fiona's arms were carefully wrapped in bandages, and were placed in casts to rest comfortably across Fiona's chest. Fiona's angelic face was now covered in a bright white bandage, which wrapped tightly around her recently adjusted nose.

"Tara, is there anything else that we can do for you?" Fiona asked, softly. Her voice sounded clogged and distorted; an unfortunate side effect of the injury to her face. Tara shook her head, not wanting to speak. Fiona lowered her head, and stared at the floor. Celestia, who was still pacing, appeared to be deep in thought about some relatively unknown manner. It had been two hours since she had been told that AJ was awake. It was now a simple matter of waiting for Pinky to arrive to discuss the very urgent business before them. Luckily, they did not have to wait long. Within the next half-hour, Pinky, AJ, and Dash were slowly wheeled into the room; a strange request that befuddled several of the nurses at the hospital. The room was now very cramped, having to fit five beds inside of it, making it very difficult for anyone to move around. Celestia settled by leaning against the far wall, gazing out the window. One minute afterwards, Wilson strolled into the room.

"Has the security camera been muted?" Wilson asked Celestia. Without turning away from the window, Celestia responded.

"Yes," she simply said. Wilson nodded, and turned his attention to the girls.

"Alright, ladies," Wilson said, very formally. "We have much to discuss." Immediately, a barrage of questions was thrown his way.

"What happened to Rachel?"

"Who were those Russian guys?"

"Why did they have superpowers, and why the fuck don't we have them?"

"Calm yourselves!" Wilson suddenly demanded. The room went mute, as Wilson sighed. "I understand that you have many questions regarding yesterday's events. Please, give me a moment to try and answer them to the best of my ability. This is all very difficult to explain."

Wilson took a deep breath.

"For starters," he began. "In case none of you are aware, Rachel Germain has gone missing. The last time we have heard from her was last night. Now, we have thoroughly searched through every possible destination Miss Germain may have gone to. We've searched every corner of Camelot. We've searched every major fashion retailer in the city. Hell, we even searched back at Ymerton for her. But unfortunately, nothing has come up. We figure that there are two possibilities for her whereabouts. She could be seeking refuge somewhere deep in the city. However, we believe that it is far more likely that the two men who have attacked you have taken Miss Germain captive. Based on what we've seen of these two men, we believe that is the more likely case."

"Do… do you think that she's…" Fiona said, fearfully. "You know….g-g-gone?" Wilson shook his head.

"No," Wilson stated. "If they wanted any of you dead, then you would be. For whatever reasons we cannot comprehend, they have taken her away. Speaking of which, this brings us to our next problem: the attackers. You may be saddened to hear this, but… we don't know anything about them."

The girls all moaned with gradual disappointment. It seemed to them like the Intel was progressively getting worse. First, it was The Beast which they knew nothing about, then The Unknown, and now, it was the two men. The girls had encountered strange things over the past month, but whenever it came time for an explanation, the chairmen always fell short. Wilson was now going on about what they did know. Based on Dash's descriptions, the two men were named Yuri Korbalov and Kristov Korbalov. They were both Russian-born, gigantic in size, very strong, very quick, and had an unmatchable bloodlust. As Wilson described this information, all of which the girls had already known, Tara noticed something strange about Celestia. Celestia never once joined Wilson in explaining things, something which seemed rather odd, seeing as how she had always done it in the past. Instead, Celestia stared out the window, her lips pulled tightly back into a scowl. Tara had seen this expression once on Celestia's face before, but she was unsure where. However, Tara was quite sure that she knew what the assistant chairwoman was feelings.

Celestia was feeling guilt.

"Now, for the strange powers these men possessed," Wilson continued. "We are working on an explanation for that. To say that these powers were real would be preposterous. Gifts such as these are not possible for any human to maintain. Our best current guess is that they received knowledge of these illusions at the same place where they received their training. We still don't have any idea of where it may be, but our top men are working non-stop to determine-"

"He's lying."

Wilson froze in place. All attention suddenly turned towards the woman leaning by the window sill. Celestia never looked up, but was quite apparent to everyone in the room that she was the one who spoke. Celestia turned her head away from the window, and looked Wilson dead in the eye.

"He's lying to you," Celestia said sternly. "He knows everything you need to know, and if he refuses to tell you the truth, then I suppose that I will."

"Bridgette," Wilson said, disapprovingly. "You know what your mission parameters are. We agreed upon this."

"General, with all due respect," Celestia said angrily. "We cannot allow them to be deliberately misinformed at a time like this. We have one of our soldiers taken hostage. This calls for a break in parameters."

"They don't need to know," Wilson said forcefully.

"Wilson, if the Korbalovs are involved in this, then it is crucial we tell them who and what they are. The Korbalovs are a threat to their lives, this entire operation, and, unless you have forgotten, you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," Dash interrupted. "What the fuck are you guys talking about?" Celestia looked back and forth between Wilson and Dash, being met with stares of anger and confusion. She knew that she could be expelled from the assignment for what she was about to say, but she refused to risk the girls' safety again. Celestia settled her eyes on Dash, and sighed.

"Yuri and Kristov Korbalov," she began. "Are arguably the two most dangerous men on the planet. They are a pack of mercenaries, who sell their services around the world, under the name, 'The Brothers of Chaos'. They refer to themselves as 'The Iron Hammer', and 'The Red Fist'. Yuri carries a sledgehammer around with him for assignments, and Kristov… well, you can probably guess where he got his nickname from. They were born poor, and started committing crimes by the time Yuri was eight years-old. Yuri commits his actions to take out his rage on those around him, or for sheer enjoyment, or for some other reason no sane person would ever comprehend. He is an absolute psychopath. Kristov, on the other hand, from what we've seen, only helps his brother because he doesn't want to risk his brother's safety, or, perhaps even more so, because he doesn't want his brother to stray too out of control. He doesn't appear to that horrible of a person, in general, but it still doesn't change the fact that he has been responsible for the deaths of a hundred or so people. The two of them have been arrested twelve times, and have escaped from prison twelve times. The KGB has orders to shoot them on sight. The younger one, Yuri, is a sadist, and he has Rachel captive to torture her. Slowly. In fact, he'll probably keep her alive for at least another two weeks, just for fun. Getting Rachel will be of utmost importance. Obviously, we would much rather prefer Miss Germain to be alive than deceased. However, there is another massive problem at hand. If Rachel slips during her torture, says anything at all about this operation, then we will all be at risk even further."

"Why is that?" AJ asked.

"Because they want to kill me," Wilson responded. The girls immediately look his way, and saw that he stared at the floor. "I was one of the men who locked them in jail for the first time. It was nearly fifteen years ago. Until then, they had mostly been able to get away with their crimes against humanity. However, the Russian government contacted us, and asked for our help. I was able to track the men down, even with their extraordinary abilities. They've been seeking vengeance against me all of these years. If Miss Germain tells them where to find men, then basically, my time on this earth will be finished."

"Wait," Tara suddenly said. It burned her throat to talk, but she needed something to be said. "I get all that, about the Korbalovs past and whatnot, but there's something we need to know. Yesterday, we saw Yuri take a bullet to the head, and live. You said you had the answers to what we needed to know. So please, how did he do that?"

Celestia sighed, and Wilson stared at the floor. It was quite clear to Tara now that they knew the secret behind the Korbalovs but desperately did not wish to answer. However, Celestia decided that it was necessary to tell Tara the truth.

"The reason why the Korbalovs are like they are," Celestia said. "The reason for the strength, the red arms, the invulnerability, all of it… is because they are Macers."

"Wait…they're what now?" Dash asked confused. Celestia took a deep breath.

"It's a long, complex story," Celestia said. "One that you probably wouldn't full understand."

"We've got time," AJ said. "If this is really that important, then you should tell us."

"Alright," Celestia said, cautiously. "I'll try. See, many years ago, there was this scientist. Brilliant man, he was; one of the brightest minds of the century. But unfortunately, he discovered that he had brain cancer, and he was terminal. This doctor, Dr. Murphy, attempted to create a device to possibly reverse the effects of his illness. After years of development, Dr. Murphy finally finished his design: the Molecular Adjustment for Continued Evolutionary Reform Device Module, or the MACER Device, for short. The machine attempted a revolutionary idea: reconstructing the human genome; changing the DNA of a human being by adding an extra nucleobase to the sequence."

"So, their DNA would get all fucked up, essentially," Dash confirmed. Celestia nodded.

"In basic terminology, yes," Celestia responded. "But it's much more complex than that. The machine worked by emitting gamma radiation at high velocity, which carried the extra particles in its waves. The radiation would penetrate through the cells, deep into the helices of DNA. The nucleobase would attach itself in the most efficient way possible to the rest of the DNA. After the process was finished, the subject would essentially not be human anymore. The entire genetic code would be altered, and when all was said and done, the subject would be fully affected by whatever change the altered RNA sequence caused. The grafting process was rather intense for the subject, as they would be transformed into something entirely different."

"So," Fiona said, trying to understand what the assistant-chairwoman was saying. "What would happen to the Macers? Would they be alright?" Celestia shook her head.

"That's one of the main problems," Celestia explained. "Since everyone has a different arrangement of genetic code, each individual is affected radically different. From what we've seen, we have witnessed changes as subtle as the altering of eye color, to obtaining an STD, to growing a third arm, to changes as extreme as what happened to The Beast. Some effects are permanently active, while others need to be triggered by conscious thought. Unfortunately for us, the Korbalovs have similar DNA, which means similar effects, and they both appeared to fall on the far right side of the spectrum."

"Both experienced a massive change in their genome," Wilson continued. "They gained a passive effect from the machine. It restructured and reinforced their muscles and bones. They were already strong to begin with, but after their exposure, they became, on a practical sense, walking tanks. With six times the density of normal muscle and bone, and five times the hardness, they can perform astonishing feats of strength. They can tear through the human body with a single punch, or rip the walls off of safe doors. Bullets just bounce off of them, or get lodged inside of their bodies, planted just beneath the skin. Theoretically, they should be able to die if they withstand enough damage, but we don't have the resources to bring actual tanks to battle against them. So, as it stands, they don't fear any of their opponents, because they have yet to face someone who ever had the slightest chance of killing them."

"But if they really had that muscle structure, they would be in constant agony," Tara mentioned. "Their bodies wouldn't be able to handle the stress. No one was meant to have those physical powers."

"But there is more to them than that," Celestia said. "The increase in muscle and bone density also had a dampening effect on their nerve endings. They probably are in constant pain; they just can't feel it anymore. Every sensation had about fifteen times less of an impact than on normal people. And on top of all of that, Kristov seemed to have his arms converted into two energy reactors. He can just absorb any or all kinetic energy that connects with his arms, and redistribute it as he sees fit. It was as if God decided to build the two most dangerous monsters on the planet."

"Well, how did they get to be Macers in the first place?" AJ asked, confused. "I mean, this Dr. Murphy guy or whatever should have kept the project to himself. How did it get out and, now that I think about it, how many of these damn Macers are there anyhow?"

"Unfortunately, all great advancements must be uncovered sometime," Celestia said, sadly. "Murphy's plan did not work out; his cancer wasn't cured. He grew angry at society. He nearly went mad, and started selling instructions on how to build the device on the black market in rage. The devices were mass-produced, and criminals started using it on themselves. We did our best to contain the entire epidemic. In the end, we believe we re-obtained most of the MACER devices, which we immediately deactivated. The Korbalovs most likely got their powers from one of the reproduced variants. All in all, we estimate that about one hundred Macers were created during the time, and they all probably remain around today, either suffering with their diseases or enjoying their gifts. As for Dr. Murphy, we arrested him shortly afterwards. He was near-death by that point. Three weeks later, we were interrogating him to see if he could make a machine to reverse the effects of the device, but he was too weak to think properly anymore. We watched him succumb to his illness right before our eyes, taking the only chance to erase the Macers with him."

"So… there are just a hundred of these super-powered freaks walking about the entire fucking earth?" Dash questioned.

Celestia somberly nodded. There was no more to explain to the girls. All information that needed to be told was said. However, it didn't provide any happiness to the young women. In fact, it made them feel worse. The simple thought of knowing that there were people existing in the world that had such devastating power was too much to bear. In truth, they could have been anywhere, and they could have capabilities far beyond anything they could ever dream of. What was worse was that two of the most powerful ones were holding their friend hostage, slowly torturing her and probably planning on killing her.

And there was practically no way to stop them.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos (The Violet Specter)

Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos

Part 2 of 2: The Violet Specter

Rachel awoke to an intense pain. Her eyes shot open, and she saw nothing but darkness. Everything hurt. Her sides stung with a deep ache, her chest burned, and her legs were poisoned with unbelievable agony. Rachel was sitting down, as far as she could tell. However, when she willed her body to rise, she was met with restraint. She found herself unable to move, and soon realized that she was in fact tied to the chair, her arms wrapped uncomfortably behind her. Rachel's immediate instinct was to look around for a way to escape. But as she moved her head, she suddenly felt a large hand grab onto her hair, and yank back. Rachel stared up at the dark ceiling, as a deep voice spoke from behind.

"I wouldn't move, if I were you," she heard Kristov say from behind her. "You might see the damage caused to your body, and the last thing we need for you right now is to go into shock. If that happened, you could receive serious damage to your mind, so don't look down. Do you understand?"

"What…" Rachel sputtered out, not answering the question, being far more concerned for her well-being. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Well, much to my disappointment," Kristov explained. "Yuri has a bit of a joy for torture. Unfortunately, you are his latest victim."

The cruel reality set in on Rachel. She had absolutely no idea where she was, except that it was dark and discreet enough for her to be held there. She had no idea how much time had passed since she was knocked out, or what had happened to any of her friends. For all she knew, everyone she cared about had died from their wounds. Rachel suddenly started wriggling around in her binds, trying to break free. But for her, every slight movement was like an eternity of agony, and she had to stop moving. Kristov released her from his grasp, and her head fell forward, as Rachel lost all strength to keep it upright. Rachel's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and when she could finally see a foot in front of her, she froze.

Rachel stared down at her own body petrified by what she saw. Her clothing was torn in many places, and she could see fresh cuts scraped across her skin. Her foot appeared mangled, her toes bent out of position at odd angles while the foot itself seemed to be stuck on its side. Fresh blood poured down her chest, and Rachel suddenly became very light-headed. She watched as the blood, her blood, trickled down her body and to the floor, creating a large, deep crimson puddle. From the sight of it all, Rachel could no longer hold in the contents of her stomach. Her head still bent forward, she vomited violently, covering her feet and the floor in the foul substance. She felt horribly ill, and immediately started to harshly cough afterwards.

"I told you that you shouldn't look down," Kristov said calmly. Rachel was now taking deep breaths, trying to calm her radically racing thoughts. She stopped thinking clearly, and her mind went into a state of survival. She heard a door opening, and then saw a rectangle of light appear several yards in front of her. A silhouette filled the light, and next, the light quickly faded away. Rachel saw a large figure approach her, holding something in his hands.

"Well, it looks like the British bitch finally woke up," Yuri said smugly. "How did you enjoy your nap?"

"Go to hell," Rachel said weakly. She was suddenly met with a very large object colliding with her stomach. Blood spit forth from her mouth, as Rachel became limp. She groggily raised her head, and saw what had struck her. Yuri was holding a sledgehammer, roughly six inches across, and three inches thick. Yuri held it with pride, tossing it between his hands.

"Aint she a beauty?" Yuri asked rhetorically. "See, back in the day, I used to bring this hammer out on assignments. It couldn't do anything that I could not already do with my fists, but it helped with the intimidation. Any fucker who saw this practically shat their pants in terror. But lately, I find that it bogs me down too much to be of any real use. Still, it's always fun to feel the weight of this colliding with a person, and it certainly still has the same impact, don't you agree?"

Yuri suddenly swung the hammer against Rachel's shin, breaking the bone easily. Rachel screamed, tears starting to stream down her face. Yuri, pleased with the response, struck Rachel's other shin with the same force, causing the leg to shatter painfully. Rachel's sobs were becoming harder to materialize, as each blow took away more and more energy. At the rate Yuri was going, Rachel doubted that she would be able to survive the night. However, Yuri put down his hammer, which gave Rachel a small sense of relief. But the sensation of relief quickly washed away as Yuri started punching Rachel in her chest and stomach, trying hard not to immediately kill the girl. He left her face intact, but he completely damaged her body. The cuts had split open further, her chest had swollen tremendously, and she felt like she was about to keel over at any moment. But unfortunately, any time she came close to the sweet temptation of unconsciousness, Yuri slapped her across the face, shocking her awake.

"I'm really sorry about this," Yuri said, slowing down his rate of punches. "Honestly, it's not like enjoy torturing people… okay I do, but that's aside the point. Making you suffer is part of the contract. And when several million dollars requires you to make a teenage girl wish she had never been born, well, who am I to argue?"

"Yuri," Kristov spoke up. "She's had enough. Let her be."

"Fine, Kristov," Yuri said reluctantly. "I'm sure that this has gotten a message across, regardless."

He stopped attacking, and Rachel's body gave way on her. She sank deep in her chair, her head fallen over, and her spirit broken. Her body, which had once been considered to be godlike by many of her peers, was now torn and shattered. Rachel could no longer feel any of the wounds on her mangled torso, only allowing numbness to register in her thoughts. It seemed that this had been enough for Yuri, who now started to walk out of the room.

However, he stopped dead in his tracks, as he heard someone laughing.

It was quite the peculiar laugh for anyone to hear at this time. Considering the amount of blood and violence, no one knew what could possibly be so hysterical. The laugh sounded deranged and rather high pitched. Rachel suddenly noticed that the laugh was, in fact, coming from her own lips, and her mouth had curved into a bright smile. Rachel had no idea why she was laughing, but she couldn't help herself. Perhaps the pain was so intense that she had gone delusional, or perhaps she had given up all hope in her life. Or, much more likely, it was both, yet Rachel didn't really seem to mind at this point that she was going insane. She was staring at imminent death, yet nothing frightened her. A sudden urge to challenge the Korbalovs had risen in her chest; one final moment to prove her worth. It was if every doubtful emotion that had plagued her thoughts had built into one long, endless strain of madness. Rachel knew, deep down inside, that the Korbalovs would not make her fell worthless again. She would need to be stronger than their intimidation.

She would have to be.

Yuri stared at Rachel, disturbed, while Kristov watched the two from behind Rachel's chair, his emotions ever eluding him. Rachel suddenly leaned her head forward, and stared with wide eyes at Yuri. Her mouth was dripping with her blood, which stained her lips and her teeth. She continued to stare at Yuri, a somewhat crazed look in her eye.

"You fucking idiot," Rachel said, her voice hoarse. "You're both fucking idiots. Do you think that I'm afraid of you? Do you think that I am going to cower before you? I may not be able to move now, but I swear to God, once I'm out of these bonds, I will fucking end you. You'll both be begging on your knees by the time I'm finished with you. I don't care about what you do to me. You can beat me, choke me, stab me all you want, but it doesn't matter. I have too much left to do in this word for you fucks to kill me. You don't even want to kill me, do you? But here's the important thing: even if you shatter my body beyond all repair, and actually do kill me... I'm not afraid to die. Because I know that even if I fall, even if I get beaten till I bleed from my eyes and I am paralyzed for life, then my comrades will destroy you in the same way you would have destroyed me. In fact, General Wilson is probably having his best men search for me right now, and when they find you-"

"WAIT!" Yuri suddenly shouted, his eyes wide with surprise. Rachel froze, her smile fading away. "Did… did you say General Wilson? As in, General Anthony Wilson, United States Military? Big man, gray hair, shit-eating grin?"

Rachel didn't respond, although she couldn't hide the look of panic and surprise on her face. Yuri suddenly looked at Kristov, who seemed to be expressing a similar face of surprise. Yuri suddenly picked up his hammer, and pressed it angrily to Rachel's chin.

"WHERE IS HE?!" Yuri shouted forcefully, pushing the hammer closer to Rachel's face. Rachel didn't know how to respond.

"Wha-" was all she was able to get out, before Yuri shouted again.

"WHERE IS THAT FUCKING MAN?!" Yuri yelled furiously. "For nearly fifteen years we've been hunting for that bastard! And now, you're telling me that you know where he is! If you can even comprehend what this means, then you are going to tell us where he is located. So, I'll ask once again… WHERE IS WILSON?!"

Rachel looked down upon the hammer which rested upon her chin. She glanced back and forth between Yuri and the hammer, and then smirked.

"I won't be intimidated by you," Rachel said smugly. "You can't scare me. I already know you won't kill me; you like pain too much to do that. As I said before, I'll never give in to you fucks. Torture me all you like, but you will never get me to talk. You psychopathic shits are pathetic for trying to get information out of me." Yuri growled angrily, removing the hammer from Rachel's face, and started to pace around the room, furiously.

"Oh, and by the way," Rachel continued, finishing off her string of verbal attacks to the Korbalovs. "As someone who has spent their entire life studying fashion, let me be the first to tell you that you look like an old, washed-up, fucked-up, drunkard, child molesting, small knob-ed arseholes."

Yuri froze in place. Suddenly, a horrible grin spread across his face. He turned and looked Rachel dead in the eye, causing her smirk to instantly vanish. He menacingly walked towards her, and suddenly grabbed a tight hold of her face.

"You know what," Yuri said, smiling proudly. "You have quite the awful tone there, miss. I can see that you like to insult people based on their appearances. That's not very nice now, so we'll have to… fix that, wont we?"

"Yuri," Kristov suddenly spoke up, very sternly. "Don't do what I think you are about to do. She's had enough." However, Yuri completely ignored his brother, and continued to stare down Rachel.

"You want to act tough?" Yuri asked in a mocking tone. "Because you are not. Don't overestimate your power, little girl. Now, I have been hunting this man for fifteen years, and you know where I can find him. So, unless you start being a little more cooperative, then we cannot fix this problem we are having right now. Luckily, I think I have a way of getting you to talk. You said that I look like a monster? Well, let's change that."

Kristov didn't want to be a part of any more of his brother's insidious acts. Kristov, annoyed by his brother's lack of compassion, stormed out of the room, and walked down a long hallway. But even from many yards away, he could still hear Rachel's screams echoing down the corridor.

__________

November 5th, 2015

To say that the girls were pleased with their current predicament would be a lie.

To say that they were comfortable would also being a lie.

At the General's request, the girls were being transported back to Camelot, where Tara had been informed of the formation of a medical wing, in case of future injuries. Tara lay down on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, staring up as the ceiling as she felt the pavement traveling by beneath her. Three ambulances, each holding one bed-ridden P.O.N.Y, were trailing behind a black station wagon, where Dash and Fiona were riding with Wilson and Celestia. Being trapped in the ambulance gave Tara plenty of time to think.

Tara was a very intelligent person, although she had started to take notice that she lost her ability to think clearly whenever irrational events had come about. And, considering that her entire foundation of fundamental principles was just completely eradicated, she was surprised that she was not distraught. In fact, she was taking the news with relative ease, and she didn't know why. Everything she thought she knew about the world was simply a lie to her, but she somehow felt solace in it. After much thought, she decided that it may have been because she had been so desperate to learn the mystery behind the Korbalovs, that when the answer came, she felt gratitude in knowing such information. Or perhaps it might have been that she could finally point to a scientific explanation of an otherwise supernatural phenomena.

However, as her worries about life's great mysteries faded, her concern for Rachel grew. Reflecting on their time together, she realized that they had not spoken as much as she thought that they had. Tara considered Rachel to be one of her best friends, and yet, the two had really known each other for a month. Even then, their conversations were brief. But despite this, Tara did care a great deal for her friend's safety. Hearing that the Brothers of Chaos were probably torturing her at that very moment was certainly not making her feel better.

However, Wilson had said, before they left, that he had a plan to rescue Rachel. Tara didn't know what he could possibly mean by that. Dash and Fiona were the only ones who could walk, and even then, Fiona had two broken arms, and Dash had a damaged eye and a broken hand, rendering them near useless in combat. She supposed that Wilson would explain his plan in time, although for now, she would have to be contempt of watching the ceiling.

Meanwhile, in the ambulance in front of Tara's, Pinky noticed that she was feeling quite worried. It was a strange sensation for her to be in. Pinky didn't usually feel worried. The only emotions she ever felt were happiness, cheeriness, and joy. She preferred to cycle through those options every now and then, but never strayed into foreign feelings. But now, she simply felt despair, as if a shadow was draping over her, and she had no means to escape its dark, depressing wrath. Pinky knew that she had many reasons to be feeling this way. A doctor had told her very slowly and clearly that she would most likely never walk again. He said that if he did, she couldn't make more than subtle movements, or else her legs might be permanently damaged. But she didn't think much of it at the time. Nothing in her life had ever slowed her down, and she doubted that anything would, so she was certain that she would make a full recovery. But now, lying down, her legs aching and burning in a horrible sensation, she was no longer feeling so certain of this. The thought of never being able to walk again terrified her, and although she may not have admitted it to herself, she knew deep down that she was afraid.

On top of this, there was also the matter of her friend being kidnapped. Pinky had talked to Rachel the most during her month at P.O.N.Y, and she felt like they had started to form a deep bond. Rachel was really the only person she could open up to, since Dash didn't seem to understand, and the other girls mostly ignored her. Of course, opening up usually entailed describing fun stories to the British girl, and then receiving a confused and shocked stare. Still, it counted as friendship in Pinky's mind, and she always enjoyed the time they spent together. The thought of someone so close to her getting injured made her feel even more afraid. But Pinky didn't like being afraid, so she immediately tried to get her mind off of her negative thoughts. She leaned her head back, so that she was now looking at the driver of the ambulance.

"Are we there yet?" Pinky called out. The driver shook his head.

"Nope," he responded. Pinky sighed. A few moments later, she called out again, this time even louder, in case she had been misheard.

"Are we there yet?" Pinky asked again. The driver groaned.

"If you start repeatedly asking me that," the driver said angrily. "I will shove you out of this car. You think I wanted to be an ambulance driver? Hell, no! I wanted to be an actor! So don't make me put up with this bullshit."

"Jeez," Pinky muttered out. "Just trying to make some small talk. Don't gotta go psycho on me."

"We're here," the driver suddenly called out, bringing the ambulance to a screeching halt. The next thing Pinky knew, she was being rolled back into Camelot, following behind Tara. The girls formed a line with their stretchers, while Dash and Fiona trailed them. Leading the group, Wilson began instructing them of his plan, now that they were in a safe location.

"Obviously, we need to acquire Ms. Germain's location," Wilson stated. "But considering that none of you can fight, we had to call in outside assistance."

"What do you mean, 'outside assistance'?" Tara asked.

"We've contacted a special field operative to search for the Korbalovs," Wilson explained. "She's highly trained, and with any luck, she'll be able to incapacitate the threat."

"Um, General," Tara spoke. "No offense, but if six of us couldn't take down the Korbalovs, what could one person do?" As she spoke, she found herself being wheeled into a bright room deep into Camelot, that of which she had never seen before. However, it looked strikingly familiar, for it was designed to resemble a hospital ward. The large, white room held plenty of space for all of the girls to rest, and now, Tara was laid against the wall, giving her a perfect view of the entire room.

"This operative," Wilson continued. "Has received extensive training, and has over ten years of intense combat experience. Although the Korbalovs may be strong, she can hold her own long enough for a small team to rescue Ms. Germain."

"You should know quite well of her talents, Tara," Celestia suddenly spoke up.

"Why?" Tara asked, confused.

"You know her," Celestia said simply. "You should be lucky to know someone with such experience. You actually wouldn't believe the trouble we went to get her here. We had to pull her out of a warzone, not to mention pull her away from her husband. But when we told her that you were involved, she seemed to become much more cooperative."

Tara's eyes suddenly went wide. Everything sounded so similar to her. The training, the war, the husband. Could it really be her?

"General Wilson, Madame Celestia," a voice from the door came. Tara turned hopefully, and despite the horrible agony she was in, she couldn't help but smile at the sight. Standing at attention in the doorway was a young woman, not nearly yet thirty. Her face was small, and she looked about ten years younger than she actually was. Her hazel eyes stared directly ahead, not yet noticing Tara's presence. Her arm was raised in a salute, and it brushed against her light purple and yellow hair, which flowed past her shoulders. She wore a dark blue uniform, symbolizing her specialized training.

"I've come as requested," she spoke with authority.

"Cadence!" Tara said, happily. Immediately, Cadence turned to look at Tara, and her stern expression quickly washed away into a smile of relief. Without hesitation, she suddenly moved towards the bed, and pulled Tara into a deep hug.

"Tara!" Cadence said happily. "I'm so glad you're okay! They told me everything. Why didn't you tell me what you were doing here? You should have-"

"Cadence, please let go," Tara said, painfully. Cadence quickly let go of Tara, blushing slightly.

"Oh, sorry," she said sheepishly. "I just, haven't really seen you in a while."

"Is Sam coming?" Tara asked hopefully. Cadence sadly shook her head.

"It's just me," Cadence said somberly. "He had to stay behind."

"Oh," Tara breathed out. "Still, it's nice to see you. By the way," Tara turned to the other girls. "These are the others. That's AJ, Fiona, Pinky, and Dash. Girls, this is Cadence, my sister-in-law."

The other gave simple greetings, which Cadence returned happily.

"Sister-in-law?" Fiona asked, surprised. "I didn't even know you had a brother."

"Yeah, I've been seeing Sam since Tara was little," Cadence said. "I used to babysit her." Tara blushed at the comment, finding it slightly embarrassing that her childhood memories were being revealed right in front of her friends.

"You don't need to tell them everything, Cadence," Tara said, somewhat annoyed. The last thing she needed was for Cadence to start revealing information about her youth, as there were certainly many events that she would have liked to forget. However, Dash, not skipping on any opportunity to see Tara squirm, started to ask questions to Cadence.

"You dated her brother while you babysat?" Dash said, smugly. "Man, I only imagine what crazy sexual fantasies you acted out. Tell me, did Tara ever walk in on you while yo-"

"Rebecca," Celestia sternly interrupted, making both Tara and Cadence feel much more comfortable. "Now's not the time. In fact, now's not the time for any reminiscing. Cadence, you have much to do. You know your parameters?" Cadence, growing serious once more, turned to Celestia.

"Yes, ma'am," Cadence replied. "Find and secure Rachel Elizabeth Germain, and if possible, derail the goals of Yuri and Kristov Korbalov, whatever those end goals may be. Their locations are unknown, so I'll have to gather Intel from across the city. If you presumptions are correct, I will have two weeks to find and secure Germain before she is lost."

"For someone who's about to take on those big fellas," AJ said. "You seem awfully calm about it." Without changing her expression, Cadence looked at AJ.

"I'm aware of their... unnatural abilities," Cadence said, her voice unwavering. "But I don't really care. If brute force can't stop them, then there are other ways to make them cease. I'll just have to find one."

"Cadence," Tara said, growing fearful. "Are you sure that you'll be alright? Those two weren't people. They were monsters. I… I just don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Tara," Cadence said, reassuringly. She smiled. "I'll be fine. But first, we need to find where they are. Wilson, you said you had a potential lead?" Wilson nodded, and then walked towards the door.

"Yes," he stated. "If you'll follow me, we can get started. The rest of you, get some rest. We need you back in action as soon as possible."

With that, Wilson left the room, with Cadence following not far behind, waving to Tara as she left. Celestia soon got up and joined the two, leaving the rest of the girls alone. Dash groaned and flopped down across AJ's legs. AJ felt as if she should have complained, but she felt as that Dash would not be one for sentimentality.

"Man, this suuuuuucks," Dash moaned out. "We should be searching out there. I can't believe we gotta count on some other fucking bitch to do our job for us. No offence, Spark."

"Dash, there is nothing we can do," Tara said, ignoring Dash's rather insulting remark.

"No," Dash corrected. "There is nothing you can do. But look at me, still walking about. My hip's shattered, but I'm walking around anyway, just because I can't feel it. Hell, even Fiona could do something."

"No way," Fiona denied. "We did all that we could. All we can do now is wait for Cadence to find Rachel, and bring her back."

"Fiona," Dash said, stubbornly. "Do you really want to put all of your trust in someone that you literally just met a few seconds ago? Or would you rather lead the search?"

"Wait a minute," AJ suddenly said. Something about Dash's words put her off. She had heard Dash complain many times before, but this sounded different. When Dash complained, she swore. A lot. But Dash sounded serious for once. There was also something about the tone of her voice. It sounded as if she was trying to be persuasive. And when Dash sounded persuasive, it was guaranteed that she had a horrible idea in her head.

"Dash, what are ya suggesting?" AJ asked. "You better not be thinking what stupid idea I think you're thinking."

"If you think I'm thinking about taking a vehicle, leaving the grounds, and then looking for Miss Giant-tits," Dash said. "Then I am thinking of what you're thinking of what I fucking think, I think, I think. Jesus fucking Christ, I thought that would be apparent."

"Dash, that's suicidal," Tara scolded. "You're injured."

Dash scoffed.

"I'm down an eye," Dash explained. "So I got no depth perception. That's what Fiona's for."

Fiona appeared rather shocked.

"You actually want me to go with you?" Fiona said, astonished. "But… my arms are broken. And it would be really dangerous."

"But you have all of those crazy kicking moves, like when you beat down the crazy sword dude back at that high school," Dash said, clearly not concerned about Fiona's capabilities. "Secondly, if you're just joining a search, then you might not have to fight. Thirdly, I can still kick ass even if we do get into a fight. And lastly, I know for a fact that you want to go out there and help the Brit just as badly as any of us."

Fiona sighed. Although every sensible part of her was saying that she would most likely be slaughtered in an unholy fashion, she couldn't not deny that she wanted nothing more than to go right back to helping her friend. She didn't know why she felt this way. Of course, she had always enjoyed helping people, but recently, she noticed that she seemed to be putting herself in harm's way far more often than she would like. First, she fought off against The Beast, then she tried to act as a sacrifice against Melanie Moon, and now she was considering rushing off with Dash to stop two men who were essentially gods. Perhaps, if circumstances were different, and she had time to think about it, she might notice some recent event that caused this bizarre psychological behavior. But her passion to save her friend outgrew her concern, and reluctantly, she bowed her head.

"Fine," Fiona said, softly. "I'll… I'll help you rescue Rachel."

"Oh no, you won't," Tara said stubbornly. "As leader of this team, I forbid you two from launching a crazy suicide pact to save Rachel. I already have Cadence rushing off into danger; I don't need anyone else doing the same."

"Come one, Spark," Dash protested. "Don't be like that. We'll be far more helpful out there than waiting in this shitty hospital room underground."

Despite the protest, Tara's answer remained firm.

"No," she repeated.

"Tara, how about this," Fiona reasoned. "What if we came to a compromise? We would help search for Rachel's whereabouts, but we wouldn't launch any attack to free her. If we find anything, we tell Cadence, and then come right back here. Is that alright?"

Tara considered this for a long moment. She mulled over the thought in her head many times, thinking carefully. She didn't know why Fiona decided to help Dash. Tara, after all, had been trying, unsuccessfully, she might add, for a month to make Dash become less compulsive. It didn't help that any time Dash had an idea, someone would immediately agree with her. Although, Tara was quite interested that Fiona went along with the plan. Usually, Pinky was the one who instinctively went along with Dash, although Tara could clearly see why this was not the case for this plan. Tara, after some more consideration, found herself leaning towards letting Dash and Fiona go. In all honesty, despite her desperately not wanting to let Dash run loose around the city, especially with someone as fearful as Fiona in tow, there was no complaint why she shouldn't let them go. Fiona would ensure that they stayed out of trouble, it added extra support to Rachel's search, and if something went wrong, Wilson would immediately retrieve them and bring them back.

So in the end, after what seemed like hours of waiting, Tara expressed her confirmation with a deep sigh. Dash thrust her hands up into the air in victory, before suddenly grabbing onto Fiona's wrist, and dragging her to the door.

"Sweet!" Dash said ecstatically. "Time to go Fiona. Got a lot-"

"WAIT!" Pinky suddenly screamed out. It was so sudden that Dash stopped dead on her tracks, and stared at the hyper girl. Although, at this point, she wasn't hyper; her body still, her face clearly showing how nervous she was. It was something that none of the girls had ever seen before.

Pinky was being serious.

"I…" Pinky said slowly. "I want to come with you." Dash rolled her eyes.

"Um, Pinky, unless you haven't noticed," Dash said snidely. "You can't walk. That, and I was actually going to use my sweet-ass bike to travel, which only holds two people. So, unless you get magically healed, you can't come with us any way." However, Pinky persisted.

"Please, Dash," Pinky begged, her eyes showing sincerity that she did not show often. "I promise I won't be a problem. Just let me help."

"Listen, Pinky," AJ interjected. "I know ya wanna help, but there just aint anything you can really do right now. Trust me, as someone who's seen wounded people in the field before, it'll just cause more issues." Pinky's mood slowly deflated, and now, she crossed her arms over her chest, and lowered her head.

"But…" Pinky said, quietly. "Rachel's my friend, too. And, I need to do something to help her."

"Pinky, we all wish that we could help," Tara said somberly. "But this just isn't your fight, right now. Dash and Fiona can handle themselves." Although Tara scarcely believed in her own words, she said what she needed to in order to make Pinky feel better. And it seemed, to some degree, Pinky became less upset, and calmed down.

"Okay," Pinky said reluctantly. Suddenly though, she perked up, and pointed sternly at Dash. "But before you leave, I need you to get me a laptop from one of the offices. I'll see if I can hack the device for any useful information."

"Um, okay," Tara said, slightly confused. "Pinky, when did you learn to hack computers?"

"My mom worked for the FBI," Pinky said, nonchalantly. "Taught me a bunch of things. It's actually quite fun once you get the hang of it. See, it starts with-"

"OKAY, BYE!" Dash suddenly called out, yanking Fiona out of the room and then slamming the door to avoid one of Pinky's stories. With Fiona guiding the way, the girls were able to retrieve a laptop from one of the rooms in Camelot, slip back to the others, deliver the device, and then escaped outside. The guards easily let them go after Dash gave the excuse that they were going to get pizza to eat away their grief. With both girls on the bike (which Fiona was rather nervous about), and went on the search for their lost comrade.

__________

Cadence's first guess to Rachel's whereabouts was an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. From the Intel that she gathered from Wilson and Celestia, the factory used to produce toys, specifically dolls for six year old girls, which, somehow, seemed to inexplicably attract a fan base of sexually frustrated teenage boys and middle-aged men for no particular reason whatsoever. The factory was had been closed since the late 1980's, but there never seemed anyone caring enough to tear the place down. Cadence could never say she liked the dolls. She certainly knew of their infamous existence, and she had a friend who possessed one, but she never wanted the My Special Princess dolls.

So, she didn't feel comfortable wandering around the rather large factory, listening closely for any indications of the Korbalovs. Instead, she felt the scene nearly resembled something out of a horror film. The factory was dark and dank, cobwebs filling up the machines, and old remains of toys scattered about the floor. The main chamber, which Cadence walked through, was empty, save for the machines, and the dust in the air that kept filling her lungs, making it harder to breathe with each passing minute. Her gun was readied in her hand, and she kept the weapon raised, anticipating an attack. To her, the disturbing factory seemed like the perfect place where Rachel would be held hostage.

Unfortunately for Cadence, a different threat lurked in the next chamber of the factory. However, the people awaiting could not say that they had the skill or the reputation of the Russians.

The Grizzlies, the occupiers of the factory, were one of the street gangs that were rising to take over the position of power previously held by the Smiling Dragons. When Discord first took reigns over Philadelphia, the Grizzlies were the first of many to pledge allegiance to him. As such, they rapidly picked up the knowledge of the criminal underworld, and now, with Discord missing, many in that world believed that the Grizzlies would most likely take full control of crime in Philadelphia. As such, the positions in the Grizzlies were becoming harder and harder to come by, and it took a lot of work for everyone to be sorted out, which further delayed the takeover.

The leader of the Grizzlies was a man named Lucas White, a man whose cocky nature and large disrespect for the law made up for the fact that he was mostly incompetent. Being the leader, and thinking of himself in a rather high regard, he forced his workers to refer to him as "Mr. White", or "Head Grizzly". He was Discord's first contact whenever a major operation went down, and as far as anyone was concerned, he knew all of Discord's tricks. And, as such, he decided on every day to dress like his former boss, in an all-white suit, white tie, black shirt, and white hat.

However, try as he might to imitate Discord, he certainly was not the mad man everyone wished him to be, which is why he was now complaining to the other three men in the factory about how poorly they were handling his drug operation.

"What do you mean you can't get better speed than this?" Mr. White demanded. It was not his first decision to make a base out of the factory. Each day that he stayed there, his dark chocolate-colored skin became covered with more and more dust, and he found that he was getting some sort of mild illness from it all.

"Look, Mr. White, sir," his underling said. "You know I aint the brightest. I'm doing the best I can manage."

"Well, it isn't good enough!" Mr. White screamed. "How am I supposed to surpass the legacy of Discord if I can't even make some decent meth? I'm about to become king of the underworld, and you are fucking it all up!"

"Sorry, Mr. White, sir," the lackey apologized. "It won't happen agai-"

BANG

Cadence, having overheard all she needed to from the conversation, decided that she might as well take the extra few seconds to put down a few more criminal masterminds. She rolled into the next room, taking the others by surprise as she blew a hole right through the underling's head. Her aiming was precise, and tactically, within a matter of seconds, she shot down the other two henchmen, and turned her sights on Mr. White. Mr. White attempted to reach for his gun, but the next thing he knew, a bullet tore through his hand, and he had collapsed to the ground. He whimpered as the pain flowed through his hand, and he felt tears welling in his eyes. Cadence walked up to him, and planted her foot on his chest, pointing her gun at his head.

"Okay, you big softie," Cadence said snidely. "You seem like you have top knowledge of all crime going in the city. After all, you are the 'King of the Underworld'. What do you know about any recent kidnappings going on around here?"

"What?" Mr. White asked, confused and afraid. "I…I don't know anything." Cadence responded by firing another shot through his other hand, causing him to cry out in pain. He whimpered again.

"Bullshit," Cadence said sternly. "You don't seem like a tough guy, so I doubt you'll be able to hold onto your lies for long. Now, I'm looking for two men. Big men. They've taken a teenage girl with them into hiding, and I know that they are somewhere in this city. So, unless you want me to blow that hand off, I suggest you tell me where they are. Now."

"But…" Mr. White whimpered out. "But I really don't know. Honest. I would tell you if I knew, but I don't. I swear to God."

Cadence considered his response for a moment, before deciding that he was lying again, prompting her to now adjust her aim downwards, and shoot a bullet through his foot. Mr. White made incredibly pitiful sounds, as he now started to cry fully.

"You're lying again," Cadence said harshly. "I'll give you one last chance. Tell me what I want to know." Mr. White panicked. He didn't know what else to say to the woman in order to avoid any more agony. He knew nothing. She thought he knew something. Unless he could suddenly conjure up some information within the next few seconds, he would be done for.

But then, he thought of an idea. A very wicked idea which would guarantee not only his survival, but an increased chance for business opportunities. An idea so brilliant, that Mr. White was amazed he had even come up with it at all.

"Okay, okay," he moaned out. "I'll talk. I'll talk."

"Good," Cadence smirked. "Now, what have you hears about the kidnapping?"

"Well," Mr. White began. "I'm not sure exactly, but I remember something about Johnny Wild from the Princes that they were helping some dudes take care of some girl. Said something about 'watching her suffer', or some shit."

"What else do you remember?" Cadence asked.

"Nothing else," Mr. White said nervously. "That's all. But I think the Princes are planning on clippin' her tonight."

"Where?"

"On the east side," Mr. White said. "That's where the Princes reign supreme."

"Thank you, very much," Cadence said happily. Mr. White breathed a sigh of relief. Not only would he escape, but hopefully, this girl could do something about the Princes interfering with his crime syndicate. If she was as tough as she looked, which she appeared to be, then he would have very little excess competition in the upcoming months.

However, his hope dropped when he noticed that Cadence had never taken her boot off of his chest.

"Wait, aren't ya gonna let me go now?" Mr. White asked, very confused.

He was met with a bullet to the skull, and his body went limp. Cadence stepped off of him, and started to walk out of the factory. If Mr. White was in running to become a major crime leader, (which he said he was) then hopefully, he had some proper information for her to use. She didn't know why he assumed that he was going to be allowed to live. After all, he was a criminal. But something Cadence did know, quite for certain, was that she would never be more relieved until she exited the horrid factory.

__________

"So… what music do you like?" Dash asked Fiona, who as currently clutching the girl in front of her for dear life, as the two sped down the streets on Dash's bike. Dash was trying to pass the time, but Fiona was much more focused on her own safety to answer any of the questions.

"Could you slow down?" Fiona asked, terrified. "Please?" Dash shook her head.

"We can stop when we're dead," Dash responded.

"I don't think we'll have to wait long," Fiona said back. Dash was surprised by Fiona's rather sarcastic tone.

"When did you develop a sense of sarcasm?" Dash asked. Fiona flushed.

"Oh…" Fiona said, embarrassed. "I, uh, didn't mean to say that out loud. My bad. Sorry." Fiona made a mental note to keep her thoughts to herself, although she quickly forgot this as she felt Dash accelerating.

The two rode down the streets with great haste, although Dash had no idea where she was supposed to go. Perhaps, just perhaps, she should have waited for Pinky to find anything before actually leaving. But, perhaps, she would never admit to herself that she made a wrong decision, and, for that reason, drove Fiona around in circles in order to give off the illusion that she had any idea of what she was supposed to be doing.

"Hey, Pinky, anything yet?" Dash asked aloud. Underneath her helmet was an earpiece connected back to the girls at Camelot. From over the phone, she could here Pinky let out a groan.

"Not really," Pinky admitted. "I mean, yeah, there's some stuff here, but I just don't like the look of any of it."

"Can't you just track her phone like a normal government agency?" Dash questioned.

"Already did," Pinky said. "According to this, it says that she is at 14 Brooks Street, on the eastern edge of the city."

"Why didn't you tell us that before?" Dash said, clearly annoyed.

"Because I also managed to find the Korbalovs website," Pinky said. Fiona, who also heard the conversation, chimed in.

"They have a website?" Fiona asked in amazement.

"Yep," Pinky calmly said. "It's .com, Russian servers. Turns out the crime over there is so intense that they have a legally purchased website for mercenaries. Anyway, it lists their business credentials, and under the category of kidnappings, it says, and I quote, 'We guarantee that the victims will be untraceable throughout the entire operation. All possibilities, such as GPS untis, cell phones, or other such means of identifying location are accounted for'."

"So, they took her phone away and planted it somewhere else, basically," Fiona simplified the news.

"Well, yeah, if don't like reading, and instead like being a grumpy, old page-skimmer, sure," Pinky said in a childish manner. She regained her composure. "Now, here's something else I found. According to the website, they guarantee that when torturing people, they will keep them alive for two weeks, minimum."

"We knew that, Pinky," Dash groaned.

"Well, I've been thinking," Pinky said.

"I've been thinking," Dash heard Tara call out from the phone.

"We've been thinking," Pinky continued, annoyed. "Based on the strength the two displayed when they fought us, it seems like it would be impossible for them to keep someone alive for two weeks without eventually giving them medical attention. I mean, these guys can shatter bones by flicking people too hard."

Dash heard some static, and then she heard Tara on the phone.

"So," Tara continued, who had stolen the phone, feeling like she could provide a better explanation. "We know that Yuri Korbalov personally enjoys hurting people, which means the torture is most likely physical abuse. Let's say that he broke a bone every two hours. Well, he would have to eventually wrap up the wound, or else Rachel would probably go into shock, and die from the pain. Also, he needs to provide her with enough food and water to live, not to mention all of the blood he would eventually need to clean up. And, unless they have very subtle torture methods, there will be blood."

There was more rustling as Pinky ripped the phone back from Tara's hands.

"Basically, they need to be in a very populated area of the city," Pinky explained. "Somewhere where they could get enough food to keep up their metabolisms, and treat Rachel's wounds to some degree. I'm running a search for any places that could fit these requirements."

"Pinky, focus!" Tara yelled.

"I'm busy working here!" Pinky complained. Although neither Dash nor Fiona could see what was going on, they could only imagine the rather humorous appearance of two nearly crippled girls fighting over technology (although it was primarily Dash who thought this was funny, so much so that she nearly drove off the road from laughing too much, while Fiona gripped her friend ever tighter).

"No, you're not!" Tara yelled. "You're trying to buy a My Special Princess doll!"

"Hey," Pinky said, taking offense. "If I'm not going to be able to move for a while, I can at least have some company!"

"Ladies, calm the fuck down!" Dash ordered, restraining her laughter. "Spark, stop bugging Pinky. Pinky, get your fucking act together."

"Well, I would," Pinky complained more. "But I've already found the area we are looking for. Dead center of the city; there's a hospital, grocery store, and plenty of shady spots to hide. Problem is, I just don't know where they are specifically. I've got it down to a two mile zone and- hey! Look at this!"

Pinky was now shouting in amusement, as, unbeknownst to Dash, Pinky had accidentally clicked her way to the local news website as she tried to buy herself a toy. She read aloud the article on the page.

"Remember how that crazy old guy was trying to take over WMH Enterprises?" Pinky said.

"You mean the perverted old fuck who tried to take over the Earth like, two days ago?" Dash said, remembering the experience. She could fondly say that she hated McCarther; her best memory of him was his head falling to the ground, and blood spurting from his severed jugular.

"Well, it says here that WMH Enterprises has made an official deal with the African country of Vitrumia to outsource its fuel," Pinky said, reading the article out loud.

"I bet Wilson's happy about that," Tara chimed in, albeit with disdain in her voice. "Vitrumia's been close allies with the US for at least a decade now, since its country's creation. America will get back some of its reputation, and that fuel probably won't be going anywhere."

"At least The Unknown won't get his hands on it," Fiona added, trying to think of the positive side of things.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that hairy-palmed bastard was working with no-face," Dash replied in reminiscing. "Man, I forgot a lot of shit that happened a few days ago. Hey, Fiona, did you know that the guy took me to a stri-"

Dash froze. As if a buzzer went off in her head, a brilliant idea sprang into her mind, causing her to slam on the brakes, an act which nearly sent Fiona flying off the bike.

"Pinky, quick!" Dash demanded. "Find out where the Ultimate Palace, Gentlemen's Club is."

With great haste, Pinky searched, and in a mere matter of seconds, she gave Dash the address. Without a moment's hesitation, Dash sped down the streets, Fiona desperately wrapping he arms around the girl.

"Dash!" Fiona shouted over the roar of the bike. "Where are we going?!"

"Strip club!" Dash shouted back.

"WHY?!" Fiona asked, not only extremely confused, but rather embarrassed as well. She had never imagined going to a strip club, and now, thinking of all the scantily-clad women dancing about, she became quite flustered.

"You'll see!" Dash said with a smirk. "I've got some people to visit!"

__________

"I thought I fuckin told you, nigga. I don't get high easy," Jerome complained. "Especially since Benny got capped."

The three men were once more sitting in the alleyway, passing the time, and trying to forget the events of the few nights before.

"But if yo ass is high," Jordan explained. "Then you aint got no worries."

"Testify to that," Anwar moaned out. The intense usage of marijuana was affecting him badly, and he could no longer feel the left side of his body.

"Is that all you motherfuckers do?" Jerome asked in anger. "One of your best niggas die, and you sit back and pop a mothafucka just like dat? Man, Benny's right, fool, we need to lay off this shit."

"Complain then, bitch," Jordan said. "Why do niggers always gotta complain?" Jerome promptly stood up, walked over to Jordan, and punched him in the face. Jordan fell backwards off of his seat, and landed on the floor with a smack. "Jeez, what was that for, bro?"

"Who you calling a fucking nigger?!" Jerome shouted out.

"No one, bro," Jordan apologized, cowering in fear. "No one!"

"That's what I fucking thought, homie!" Jerome shouted back.

"HEY! GANGSTER ASSHOLES!" a voice called out from the end of the alleyway. Jerome turned towards the sound, and his eyes shot open wide when he saw who was at the end of the alley. Dash was leaning against the nearby wall, looking as cocky as before, although this time, there was a bandage covering her eye, and wrappings around her arm. Also, he saw that she had a friend with her, with flowing pink hair, a nervous yet beautiful complexion, and a bandage placed over her nose. Despite the wounds, Jerome felt horrified, and immediately turned to run out of the other end of the alley.

However, Dash didn't give him the chance to get far, pulling a gun out of her pocket and shooting Jerome in the leg. Jerome collapsed to the ground with a yelp, as Fiona jumped back in surprise.

"Whoa!" Fiona yelled out. "Where did you get that thing?" Dash shrugged.

"Stole it from Camelot," Dash said simply. "Hell, it's not even a challenge anymore."

She started walking towards the other men, who did not seem at all startled by her presence. While Jerome was attempting to crawl away from Dash, Jordan simply looked up at her in amazement, as her shadow lurched over him. He appeared dumbfounded, and perhaps it was the drugs, or perhaps it was fate, but she seemed like the most beautiful person in the world to him. Jordan opened his mouth to say something, but was greeted with a knee to the face, knocking him out. Anwar didn't move, instead just gazing at Dash in a sense of confusion. Dash walked over to him, and knocked the joint out of his hand, before roughly pushing him to the ground. Jerome tried to make his escape, but Fiona managed to block his path, allowing Dash ample time to walk over to him.

"Remember me, buddy?" Dash asked happily. "You tried to shiv me the other day. Then I murdered your friend. Anyway, I need your help with something."

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" Jerome shouted out. Dash sighed.

"If that's the best thing you can call me, then you really need to work on your insults, cum-licker," Dash said, unimpressed. "But back to matters… you live around this area, right?"

"I aint telling you shit!" Jerome called out.

"Look, tell us what you need, and maybe I won't have to cut your nuts off," Dash said threateningly.

"You cut my balls off, and I really aint telling you shit," Jerome repeated, even more defiantly.

"Please sir," Fiona suddenly interrupted. "We don't want to do any harm. Just, please, we need to know if there are any places that criminals might hide out in the general area."

Jerome paused.

"Wait… dat's all?" he asked, confused. "You don't need me to, like, put a cap on someone's ass or nothin'?"

"No," Fiona said softly, trying to remain nice. "Can you please just tell us if you know anything? Anything at all?"

"If it means getting you two bitches off my ass, then sure," Jerome hastily agreed. "See, there's this secret place we in da' hood know 'bout. Back behind the supermarket, there's this old rusty shack. Great place for hiding out drugs 'n shit. Most big gangs don't know about it cuz it's in too much of a crowded area, but my boys use it plenty."

"Behind the supermarket?" Dash reiterated. Jerome nodded.

"Yeah, it's blocked by this rusty set of planks," Jerome explained. "But I wouldn't go there if I was you. Hear some big fellas been seen stormin' about that bitch yesterday. I aint fucking with dem niggas."

Dash and Fiona looked at each other, realization dawning on them.

"Thank you so much," Fiona said, before quickly rushing out of the alley. Dash turned to follow her, but Jerome yelled after her.

"Hey," he shouted angrily. "What about my leg?!"

"Not my fucking problem!" Dash shouted back. "I don't do drugs!"

Jerome groaned in pain, and tried his best to sit up. His leg hurt him terribly as he looked around. Anwar was slowly rising to his feet, wobbling about and holding his head.

"Shit, that was some crazy-ass shit, nigga," Anwar said. "Damn, Jordan's out cold."

"Anwar," Jerome said, extending his arm. "Just give me the mothafuckin' pot, will ya, nigga?"

__________

It was getting late when the last member of the Princes fell. Two bullets ripped through his chest cavity, and he fell to the ground in a thud.

Cadence, covered with sweat and blood, stood alone among the fifty bodies that lay on the ground. She had been roaming the hideout for an hour, stealthily trying to find Rachel. It was an oversight that she had been spotted, but it didn't matter to her, as her skills were far superior to that of any of the gangbangers. Although she initially thought that once she was finished with the gang members she could continue searching, she now had many doubts that what Mr. White had told her was actually true. She had rummaged through every dark corner of the lot where the Princes rested, but she found nothing. There was no indication that the Korbalovs had ever shown up there, and she figured that she had been led on a wild goose chase. Cadence decided at this point to return back to Camelot, and get a decent night's rest before continuing the search in the morning. At least, she figured, it would give her more time to see members of P.O.N.Y. Although, there was one person at the base that she wished to see more than others.

Buzz Buzz Buzz

Cadence, confused, reached into one of the pouches in of her uniform, and pulled out her cell phone. She slowly placed it to her ear.

"Um, hello?" Cadence said awkwardly.

"She's behind the Cargo's Supermarket downtown," a voice quickly said through the phone.

"Wait, who is this?" Cadence suddenly demanded. "How did you get this number?"

"It's Dash," replied the voice. "One of Spark's friends. Not important. Anywa-"

"Who's Spark?" Cadence asked, confused.

"Tara," the voice specified. "I'm the one who asked if you blew her brother, remember?"

"Oh, you," Cadence said, not particularly pleased. "Wait, how do you know this? What are even talking about? And how did you get this number?!"

"Just get there!" the voice demanded. "The Korbalovs are hiding there, behind some old planks. There's a secret hideout in the back alley. MOVE!"

"Shouldn't you be back at the base?" Cadence said. She heard a groan.

"Do you want to stop being a bitch and get over there already?!" the voice yelled. "We're going back to the base right now. Try not to get raped over there, 'ey princess?"

The person on the phone hung up, and Cadence put the phone back into the pouch. Reluctantly, she walked out of the Princes' lot, and got into her car. She was pretty sure that the person on the phone was who she claimed to be. There wasn't anyone else who would remember that conversation regarding her husband and the rather radical deeds they had performed in their youth. However, she could not say that she greatly trusted Dash's information. She did not have any sort of liking for the girl, and she would not be surprised if this was all leading up to some trap or sick joke. Regardless, it was the only lead she had to follow, and it would not take her long to investigate. At best, she would actually find what she was looking for. At worst, she would possibly kill some less than effective thugs, and she would get to the base about twenty minutes later than expected. She turned on the ignition, and started the ten minute drive down to the supermarket.

When she finally arrived at the market, the sun was setting, causing an orange hue to be painted across the sky. Cadence parked across the street, and, before leaving the car, threw on a thick coat as to not attract attention to her special ops uniform. She got out of the car, and walked across the street. The wind was soft, blowing a few strands of hair over her face, which she brushed out of the way. Cadence looked up at the sky, taking in the sunset, which was mostly blocked out by the tall buildings surrounding her. She had not remembered the last time she had seen the sunset. She had been so busy as of late that she had such little time to truly enjoy the world around. She supposed that was the cost of war, but deep down, she would have traded anything else to keep the pristine beauty of the world intact. However, she tossed those thoughts aside, as she crossed into the alley behind the market.

The alley was only twenty yards wide, and it was narrowly squished between the market, and another tall, brick building, which seemed to have no particular purpose other than provide living quarters for cockroaches. The alley itself was empty, save for three things: first, a dumpster pushed against the market, second, a basketball, which had somehow managed to roll into the alley due to playing children, and thirdly, two big wooden crates, both four feet in length and square, pressing against the brick building. Cadence, curious, walked over to the two crates, and pushed them out of the way into the dumpster. She saw no back door or secret entrance in front of her, and she sighed. She felt rather annoyed that Dash had misdirected her, and made a mental note to get back at her once she returned to Camelot. She was about to relinquish the search, when she looked down, and in surprise, noticed that she was standing upon a wide panel, buried into the ground. The panel was a yard in width, and it could easily fit the Korbalovs massive size.

Cadence took out her gun, and reloaded it, before placing it in her holster in her waist. She bent down, and grabbed onto a small, rusted handle attached to the panel. She tugged hard, and, after a few seconds of intense pulling, managed to pry the panel open, and reveal what was hidden underneath. She saw a drop of ten feet, and a ladder placed at the edge of the hole. She took her gun out once more, and placed it into her mouth. She then slowly descended the ladder, falling into the shadows of the earth.

When she reached the bottom, she took out a flashlight, as well as her gun, and held them both at the ready. With a click, she turned on the flashlight. Before her was a corridor of about twenty five feet in length. It did not diverge any further, except for the four rusty doors on the walls, two on either side. Cadence slowly treaded forward, trying to make as little noise as possible. She quietly walked to the first door on her left, and, readying herself, flung the door open, and shone her flashlight inside. The room was small, and only contained two soft sheets, which were covered in dust. The blankets were incredibly large, and Cadence knew that they had to be made for larger individuals. Despite the gathering dust, they appeared to be recently used, suggesting that someone had used them recently. Now more cautious than ever, Cadence shut the door, and opened the one on her right. The next room was also devoid of people, but did contain a rather large amount of illegal drugs, stacked nearly as high as Cadence herself. Cadence slowly walked away from the room, having no further business with it, and moved further down the corridor. She could hear the busy streets above her, as people walked about in the closing supermarket, trying to get food before the store was shut for the night. It put her off ease, knowing that such horrific events could happen so close to ordinary people. Cadence now found herself at the end of the hall. She noticed something on the door to the right, but she decided to avoid it for the moment. She peered into the room on her left, and noticed that the room was filled with canned goods, beef, bacon, pork, bandages, ropes, splints, and a microwave. Noticing the room was devoid of human life as well,, Cadence quickly turned around and looked at the last door. Attached to the door was a slip of paper, taped to the wood. On it was written, in messy handwriting,

Too Late.

The message was written in blood.

With wide eyes, Cadence kicked the door in, and shone the flashlight into the room. A horrible odor reached her nose, causing her to cover her face with one hand. Looking around, she could see that the room could only be ten feet in length. In the middle of the room was an old chair, which was covered in a plethora of bodily fluids. Blood was splattered against the walls and floor, puddles of it laid all around the room. Dried vomit was sprayed in front of the chair, and everything mixed together to create a putrid sight. It was quite clear to Cadence now that someone had to be tortured in this room. But was it who she was looking for? Cadence didn't have to wait long to see.

Suddenly, she saw movement behind the chair. Someone was on the floor, and was lying still for so long that they had completely blended into the background. Cadence cautiously walked up to the person, and with disgust, witnessed one of the most disfigured people she had ever seen. The woman before her had every inch of her body covered in her own blood, and let out a soft moan as she writhed in agony. She had violet hair, which was now stained a dark red from being coated in blood, and a light complexion, which was now tainted with crimson. Her clothes were cut and torn as multiple knife wounds imprinted on her form. Her hands were tied behind her back with a thick rope, and her palms were cut open, including slits between each of her fingers. A long scar traced across her right arm, although it appeared to be older that the other cuts, some of which still dripped with fresh blood. Parts of her body that weren't caked in the substance were badly bruised, swelling horribly. Some of her bones seemed to be badly bent out of place, and she could see the puss festering under the wounds. The woman's face spared no expense. Her nose was crooked, her cheeks were black and blue, and her lips were clipped badly. Thick, blood-soaked bandages had been wrapped around her eyes, cutting off the view of the upper half of her face. Blood rolled down her cheeks from under the bandages, making the wrappings damp, which Cadence assumed were due to a bad cut across the eyes. Cadence recognized the girl from an image she was shown earlier, despite the horrible injuries that covered her.

It was Rachel Germain.

Cadence, trying not to startle the poor girl, very slowly placed her hand upon Rachel's arm. It immediately became apparent how cold Rachel was to the touch. Despite the sudden warm contact, Rachel barely moved, instead shivering at the impact.

"Rachel," Cadence spoke kindly. "My name is Cadence Sullivan. I'm here to get you help."

Rachel muttered something incoherent. Cadence, tried moving Rachel into her arms, but was met with protests from the girl in the form of pained groaned.

"Rachel, it's alright," Cadence said. "I'm working with Wilson. Everything will be okay now."

Rachel muttered something again, this time louder and more clearly.

"Ihmzory" Rachel spoke, her voice still soft. Cadence leaned in closer to Rachel in order to make out the groans.

"What was that?" Cadence asked.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Rachel managed to get out. Every syllable strained her immensely, and she felt as if she were to die at any moment.

"It's not your fault, Rachel," Cadence softly said. "They did some horrible things to you here, but it's over now. We're going back home."

"I'm sorry," Rachel repeated. Now that Cadence listened closely, it almost sounded as if Rachel was sobbing.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Cadence said. But Rachel continued with her mantra, shuddering as each words left her damaged lips.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel said once more. "I… I failed."

"You didn't fail anyone, Rachel," Cadence tried to explain.

"You don't understand," Rachel said sorrowfully. "I'm a failure. I failed everyone."

"How?"

"They… they told me it would stop," Rachel said slowly. "They kept pushing and pushing, and I just couldn't bare it any more. I was too weak to be of use to anyone. I gave in because I was selfish."

"Rachel… what did you do?" Cadence asked, getting concerned.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Rachel repeated. Now clutching Rachel close to herself, Cadence asked in desperation.

"Rachel, what did you tell them?" Cadence asked.

"I… couldn't take it anymore," Rachel said slowly. "I was a coward. I acted for myself instead of staying true to the cause."

"Rachel, what did you tell them?" Cadence pleaded. Rachel, without moving, spoke in a hoarse whisper, with was racked with sobs.

"I… I told them where the base was," Rachel finally spat out.

With horror, Cadence realized why the Korbalovs were not present.

Cadence pulled out her phone as fast as she could. In a panic, she dialed in Wilson's number, and held the phone to her ear.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel repeated once more. However, no one heard her pathetic cries, for Cadence was far too concerned with the fact that no one was answering her call.

__________

The raid on Camelot should not be called an easy task. In preparation for the worst, an attack squad was called in to defend to the base at all costs. With them, they carried the latest equipment, all in hopes that the new leaps in technology would be able to take down the two most powerful men in the world. The attack team carried forty members, and was divided into three. The first twenty was sent out in front of the restaurant, and was calmly waiting behind the cover of several military jeeps. The next ten were dispatched in the hallways of the base, and were lurking around every corner to surprise the enemy. The last ten were ordered to stay around the computer room, in which Wilson had been bunkered. Seven waited outside the room, while three waited within. The system was specifically designed to constantly wear the Korbalovs down, and it was hoped that if they did discover the location of the base, the military would be ready for them. The raid on Camelot should not be called an easy task.

It should not be called an easy task. That doesn't mean that it wasn't.

It all started with a speck in the sky. The sun was starting to set over the horizon, and the soldiers out front took very brief time off of their schedule to look up and try to enjoy it. After all, they only had suspected that the Korbalovs might try to attack, but they had no actual proof at this point. So, it seemed like a perfectly fine thing to do, as the sunset was rather beautiful. But, one solider happened to notice something very peculiar about the sky. In the normally deep orange sky, there was a black speck. He couldn't tell how high up it was, but it looked like it was falling towards him. The soldier rubbed his eyes, but the speck would not leave. In fact, it appeared closer than ever before. Now that it was closer, some of the other soldiers noticed it too. Also, a strange humming sound was now ringing through the air. By this point, nearly all men looked up at the speck, as it was now fast approaching them. The speck now no longer looked like a speck, but a man. A very big man, with two crimson arms, held bend at side, hands clasped together, as if he were about to swing a bat at the air.

While some soldiers attempted to fire at the man, it was a futile effort, and he eventually collided with the ground, slamming his arms into the pavement. A shockwave ruptured throughout the earth, sending rock, cars, shrapnel, and men flying about in all directions. The blast was so intense that it rattled throughout the ground, and even reached the ears of the P.O.N.Y's inside of the medical wing.

As Kristov stood up from his attack, a vehicle pulled around the side of the building. The dark grey vehicle was built like a tank, and rested on top of it was a large minigun, which could be accessed from inside. The van came to a screeching halt outside the base, running over one of the soldiers in the process. From out of the tank came Yuri, grinning happily at the carnage around him. With no resistance, the two men marched into the base.

Meanwhile, inside, the girls were starting to panic; the chaos outside filling their minds, and reminding them painfully of their first encounter with the two Russian monstrosities.

"What do we do?" Tara asked to no one in particular. "They're in the base."

"I know, Tara," said AJ, trying to calm her leader down. AJ could see that Tara was losing control of the situation, and once Tara stopped being in control, she stopped thinking properly.

"We're all going to die," Tara said to herself.

"Tara, calm yourself," AJ reassured. "We aint gonna die."

"Yes we are," Tara said grimly. Pinky was watching the two girls talk, staying relatively calm herself. Her eyes back and forth across the room as Tara talked about death, while AJ tried to give her new life. While Pinky could hear the girls argue, she could also hear what was going on outside their door.

"Guys," Pinky said, straining her ears. "I think they are inside."

"Damn it," Tara muttered. "How can we do anything about this now? They're just gonna march around in here like crazy until they kill us all. Oh my God, this the end…"

"TARA, ENOUGH!" AJ suddenly yelled. Tara stopped speaking. "No one is going to die, Tara. Once Cadence and the others get back, everything will be alright. Until then, we are going to have to do what we can to stall them.

"Um, AJ, I hate to interrupt," Pinky said. "But we, uh, are kinda not able to move right now."

AJ paused for a moment. She could hear the screams of the soldiers from right outside the door, and yet she was powerless to do anything about it. Throughout her life she had always managed to find a way to overcome the odds. No matter what problem she encountered, she could always end up beating it. It simply was a matter of trying hard enough.

So, taking deep breaths, AJ slowly unplugged herself from the machinery which surrounded her bedside. Incredibly slowly, and in tremendous pain, AJ rotated herself around, and then stood up off of the bed.

"AJ, what are doing?" Tara asked, bewildered. "You'll get yourself killed."

"I have to do something," AJ said through the pain. She forced herself to walk towards the door. Her entire body burned with an intense fire, but this only gave her drive to go on. "If we do nothing, then we fail. If we try, we can at least have a chance of victory. If I had to fight and die, or surrender and live, I'd rather fight any damn day."

AJ, despite the relentless protesting, opened the door in front of her, just in time to see a soldier fly across the hallway. AJ took a deep breath, and walked out of the door. She closed the door behind her, and turned her head to the left. She saw Yuri, smugly grinning at her, and Kristov, who was incapacitating another soldier.

"Hey, brother, look," Yuri said, pointing at her. "She's still alive. I guess you can have a clear conscience after all."

"This is over," AJ said fiercely. "You're not getting any further than this."

Yuri snickered. "Kristov, go on and find Wilson. I'll take care of the girl."

Kristov nodded, and ran past AJ. She attempted to strike him as he moved, but was forced to dodge one of Yuri's attacks instead. She rolled out of the way, the motion hurting her horribly. She got back to her feet, and took up a fighting stance, barely able to bring her one non-broken arm up to her face. Yuri laughed, and reached behind his back.

"Man, I've been waiting to use this on a target for years," he said with a grin. He pulled a sledgehammer off of the holster on his back, and gripped it tightly in his hands. AJ showed no fear.

"What are you waiting for, you son of a bitch?" AJ said coldly. Yuri smirked and charged at her. He brought the hammer over his head, and then tried to bring it down upon her. But even in her weakened state, she rolled out of the way. He swung again, each swing taking a painfully long time to follow through. This gave AJ plenty of time to move out of the way, although it was putting a massive strain on her body. She was starting to feel woozy, and her ribs felt like they were melting. Still, she fought on. She ignored every will of her body to quit. But Yuri was relentless, starting to swing faster and faster. AJ knew that eventually, she would have to attack him, but she painfully remembered the last time she threw a punch at the two men. However, it was becoming necessary, so she now raised her left arm to attack.

Her opportunity came when Yuri missed his next attack. Rolling behind him, she chopped directly at his back. However, he was quite prepared for this attack. He dropped the hammer, quickly turned around, and grabbed onto her left arm with his right hand. Next, he took her right arm with his left hand, and then yanked her towards him. He pressed their foreheads together, and stared directly into her eyes, grinning, as she struggled to break free.

"I have to say, you're doing quite well for someone with twenty broken bones," he said, staring coldly at her. She persisted to struggle in vain as he spoke. "But, unfortunately, you are interrupting me with a very important assignment, so I must cut our little date short, I'm afraid. It's been a real pleasure, though."

Yuri, without warning, slammed his head into AJ's, sending her flying across the room. Her forehead was covered in blood, and she thought another bone might be broken from the fall, but she stood up again anyway. She rose just in time to receive a brutal punch to the stomach, and she fell over, unable to stand any longer. Yuri waved her farewell and picked up his hammer, as he ran off to catch up with his brother. AJ reached out an arm towards his fading form, desperately trying to do anything to halt his progress. But finally, her body failed her, and she once more slipped back into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, in the computer room, Wilson and Celestia were discussing something of the utmost importance, as they heard the disruptions outside their door.

"I'm not going in there," Celestia argued. "My job is-"

"Not as important as your life," Wilson said sternly. "We can't afford to have both of us fall to these men. Then the entire project will be deemed a failure."

"But General," Celestia tried to argue.

"Bridgette, you've done plenty," Wilson said. "Now, get back into the panic room. I'll take it from here."

Celestia scorned, and then rotated back and struck her fist against the wall. Beneath her, a two-feet wide hole opened up in the wall, revealing a small, secret room. If they were to be looking for it, the Korbalovs would have most likely found it, so Wilson decided to effectively draw their attention away from it at all costs. Celestia reluctantly managed to squeeze through the small hole, and she closed herself into the wall. She managed to get in just in time, as Kristov immediately blew the door off of its hinges. It landed in front of the General's feet, as the three soldiers opened fire at the man. Kristov raised his arms to his face, blocking the shots with ease. Suddenly, Yuri sprang out from behind him, lunging to one soldier, and ripping his head off of his body. He took out his hammer, and hit the second man in the ribs, before hitting the third man in the back. With all three men down in one way or another, Yuri finally looked upon the man who he had been searching for for years.

"Wilson," Yuri said, grinning. "You look fatter. Like pork. Big, fat, disgusting, putrid pork."

"You two are insane," Wilson stated. "Coming in here, attacking my base. Attacking my operation. Do you feel no shame for the lives you took?"

"I feel shame for not murdering those children as I passed them by a few seconds ago," Yuri said with a grin. "Regardless, we have wasted far too much time, Anthony. If you would allow us to take you back with us…"

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Wilson said forcefully. He raised his arms, and prepared to fight. "I've spent thirty years in the military. I know how to handle scum like you."

To this, Yuri laughed.

"Kristov," Yuri said, now growing serious. "You ready for this?"

Kristov nodded, taking a fighting stance. Wilson suddenly charged at the bigger man, readying his fist for a strike. He swung hard, but Kristov swung harder. Their fists collided with each other, and every bone in the General's hand shattered instantly. He clutched his hand in pain, before Yuri tackled him to the ground, and started pounding on him mercilessly. Every blow sent blood splattering out of Wilson, and Yuri screamed at him with every punch. Eventually, Kristov had to pry Yuri off of the man, so that Wilson would not die from his wounds.

"Remember the plan, Yuri," Kristov said sternly. "We take him back to Russia. Make him suffer in the cold. Then we kill him."

"Yeah, yeah," Yuri said, regaining his composure. "I guess we'll have to put that Discord contract on hold. We can't hold everyone for torture at once. Make sure Discord finds out that we have to stop trying to kill the teens for a while, if he really wants them to suffer. He'll probably be mad. But it's worth it. Oh, so worth it."

He grinned, and then picked up the General, flinging the limp body over his shoulder. The two walked out of the base with tremendous pride, and a happy sensation in their hearts. Meanwhile, hearing the threat had left, Celestia crawled her way out of the panic room, and looked around at the remains of the base. She quickly ran over to one of the few living soldiers, and woke him from his slumber.

"Wake up," Celestia ordered. The solider stirred, and struggled to rise to his feet. Celestia held him down, however, making sure he didn't break any bones.

"Ma'am, what happened," the soldier asked.

"Wilson was taken away by the Korbalovs," Celestia said grimly. "Can you rally the troops?"

"No," the soldier said. "I don't think there is any one left to rally."

"Damn, they're going to get away," Celestia said, angrily. "Wilson is in charge of the operation, and we need to get him back immediately."

"Ma'am, if Wilson is gone," the solider said. "Well, you know that if he is absent in the call of duty, then all responsibility of the operation falls on-"

"I know," Celestia said. She didn't particularly want to hear what he had to say, but she knew it anyway. She feel like it should be happening, but she had no real say in the matter.

"What are your orders, then," the solider asked. "Chairwoman Celestia."

The words filled her mind with grief. She didn't ask to become head of the operation. But taking up responsibility, she did the first thing her instinct told her to do.

"We need to split up," Celestia stated. "Get the girls, and tell them to go to Point Vertigo in Albany, New York. I'll go back to Washington. Tell the others who are out, too. Things are going to be quite different from here on out, and we need to get ready for it."

__________

November 8th, 2015

To say the trip was confusing would be an understatement. Not only did Tara have no idea where he was going, but she didn't know why either. She saw nothing wrong with staying in Philadelphia, but she knew that there had to be some reason. However, it didn't seem to matter much, as in the new base, she was still restricted to a medical bay, which all of her friends were held in. She hadn't heard much, but what she did hear was very important. For starters, she heard that Rachel was found, and she was being sent to a hospital first, before being transported to the base. Secondly, she got word that Cadence had to go to Washington D.C. She wished she had gotten to spend more than a few minutes with her friend, but she got word that Cadence might return after a few months. Lastly, she heard that the Korbalovs got away. It didn't surprise her much, but it was notable, nonetheless. Now, as she sat in the medical bay of Point Vertigo (which looked nearly identical to the last one she was in), she was caught in the midst of speculation and rumor among her friends.

"Why do these fuckers have to keep dragging us to new locations?" Dash complained. "What is so important that we could not stay at Camelot? I was actually starting to like the place."

"The Korbalovs wrecked it pretty badly," said AJ, trying to recover from her latest wounds. Aside from a constant feeling of nausea, AJ hadn't felt too much of an effect from her latest beating. "The whole lot of it must be destroyed."

"Still, it sucks," Dash said.

"I think the Korbalovs are aliens," Pinky said.

"Pinky, we already know what they are," Fiona said. "They are people."

"Aliens are people too," Pinky said, somewhat offended, as if she felt the sorrow of the extraterrestrials. Suddenly, the door opened, and a man walked inside. With him, he carried a rolling platform, and on top of that platform was a small, flat monitor. The screen suddenly flicked on, and the face of a beautiful, blonde woman appeared, sitting in a dark office space.

"Celestia," Tara said. "What's going on? What happened?"

"I have some rather unfortunate news to share with you all," Celestia said sorrowfully. "First of all, the Korbalovs have escaped back to Russia, with General Wilson as hostage. As such, I humbly accept the responsibility as the overseer of this operation."

"Really?" AJ asked in disbelief. "He's actually gone?"

"I'm afraid so," Celestia said. "I'm here in Washington D.C, discussing matters of the highest importance. As such, I cannot be there with you at the time, so this video chat will have to do. By the way, this will be your new base until we can repair the damages done to Camelot. It might take a while though."

"How long?" Fiona asked. Celestia shrugged.

"We don't know," she admitted. "A few months, perhaps. Anyway, we need to talk about the most important matter: Rachel."

"How is she?" Tara asked, growing concerned. "Is she alive?"

"She's alive," Celestia said, grimly. "But, there have been some rather… unfortunate complications. The man who's standing by the screen is Dr. Marrow, and he is helping Rachel recover. I think he can explain things better than I could."

"Thank you, ma'am," said the doctor. "Now, regarding your friend, the damage was pretty severe. We had her checked into the hospital for a couple of days, but now, we have had her delivered here."

"What happened?" Tara asked once more.

"She received numerous lacerations across the body," the doctor started. "She has five cracked ribs, a broken ankle, two shattered knees, broken hands, and that's not even half of the things wrong with her. It's quite a miracle she's even alive. But there are even worse things. In particular, an almost life-threatening cut to the neck, hairline spinal fracture, and… her eyes."

"Wait," AJ said, worried. "What happened to her eyes?" The doctor coughed, looking very uncomfortable.

"In the field of medicine," he stated, ignoring the question. "We are taught that almost anything is possible with the proper technology. Using our technology, we believe that, eventually, Miss Germain will make a full recovery, broken bones and all. But… we can't do anything about her eyes."

"Why can't you do anything?" Tara questioned. The doctor sighed.

"Look, there is no easy way to describe this situation, so I'm just going to simply tell you," the doctor said. "The reason we can't fix her eyes… is because we can't find them."

"What…what do you mean, 'you can't find them'?" Fiona spoke up, terrified.

The doctor took a deep breath.

"She doesn't have eyes anymore," the doctor stated grimly. "They were forcibly removed from the skull; torn right out at the optic nerve. They're gone."

Silence filled the air. There was absolutely nothing, no words to describe the awful feelings in each of the girls' chest. Most of them felt sick, some felt afraid. To think that something so hideous, so awful as that could happen to someone like Rachel was almost too much to bare. It seemed impossible. It had to be impossible. There just didn't seem anyway that the doctor could be right about this. He simply had to be wrong. But, as the doctor continued explaining, everything slowly set in to reality. He told them how she would be blind for the rest of her life. He explained how since the nerve was torn, any chance of restoring her sight was out of the question. He told them about the complications of dealing with possible infections, and a necessary surgery to seal up the damaged eye sockets. He didn't bother to tell them about the horrific pain Rachel was in, but they managed to figure it out, regardless. Feeling that there was nothing left to say to the girls, Celestia requested the doctor bring in Rachel, and then leave them alone for the day.

None of the girls had the stomach to look when Rachel rolled into the room on her bed. She was placed against the wall, facing everybody, yet she could see none of them. When they finally did look at Rachel, the sight was too painful. Rachel sat upright on the bed, unmoving, her body covered with casts, cuts, and bruises. But what was most horrible was the bandages that were wrapped around Rachel's face, covering her eyes from the world. None of the girls could tell if she was even awake or not, or if she could feel the people staring at her, shocked and amazed at the freak with no eyes. It wasn't hard to imagine the absolute misery Rachel must have been feeling, and the sensation of quietness had become infectious, fastening each of the girls' tongues to the back of their mouths.

After many painful minutes of silence, Fiona finally spoke up, hoping to break through the dreadful emptiness.

"Hey, Rachel," she spoke up. "How are… how are you feeling?"

Rachel said nothing.

"Rachel, I'm sorry about what happened," Tara said softly.

Rachel didn't move, her head remaining sunken slightly forward.

"Damn it, look at us," Dash suddenly complained, with the same rambunctious attitude as ever. "Acting like a bunch of sissies because of a fucking injury. Stop acting like pussies guys. That means you too, Rachel. Being blind doesn't mean you can just mope about like a fucking heroin addict every day of your life."

"Dash…" AJ scolded. "Not the time."

However, Tara, in some bizarre manner, actually understood what Dash was trying to do, or at least she thought she did. In some ways, Dash was actually helping more than any of the rest of them. Dash was acting like it wasn't a big deal; like everything was fine, and no one really cared. In some weird way, by Dash acting like it wasn't an issue, maybe Rachel wouldn't think so as well. Maybe, just maybe, Dash hoped that if everyone acted like normal, everything would become normal. It would stop feeling like death and despair. Rachel would stop feeling like a freak. Maybe they would all end up being okay.

But things weren't okay. Rachel didn't have eyes anymore.

Suddenly, Tara felt mad. Really mad. Incredibly mad. The same kind of ferocity a cornered animal had. Everything was sinking in to her, and it just didn't seem fair. It seemed like all of their hard work had been for naught, like they had been climbing the highest mountain in the world, and someone pushed them off the ledge before they stood on the top. Tara felt angry not just for herself, but for Rachel. Tara realized that Rachel's life was practically over. Rachel was a fashion major, and without sight, her primary dream could never be accomplished, no matter how much effort was put into it. Not to mention the fact that Rachel could now hardly do anything at P.O.N.Y. anymore. Fighting their enemies was out of the question when the girl could not see anything at all. In fact, what was Rachel to do with her life from this point forwards? Everything she knew to that point was stripped away in the most horrible manner, leaving Rachel trapped in a cold, black world of lost hopes and shattered dreams, and Tara hated it.

She hated them.

"We need to find them," Tara suddenly spoke. She was met with confused glances. "The Korbalovs. We need to hunt them down. Kill them. Make them pay for everything."

"Tara, are you alright?" Fiona asked. She couldn't help but notice the growing hate in Tara's tone. And this terrified her, far more than the Korbalovs ever could.

"I'm fine, Fiona," Tara said. "But they won't be. We need to get out of here, and take back everything they stole from us."

"Tara, we can barely move," AJ explained.

"Then we recover," Tara said. "We go to Russia, and we hunt those bastards down. If we're lucky, we can even get Wilson back. It'll be a rescue mission."

"Tara, you know what they can do," Fiona said. "We'd be doomed from the start." However, Dash immediately took a liking to the idea.

"Actually, it's perfect," Dash said. "It gives us an excuse for whooping some Russian ass. We wait a few months, train, perfect our skills, and then take the fight to them. They'll never see us coming. Hate to say it, Spark, but I like this mad plan of ours."

Tara grinned.

"Guys, this is our chance," Tara said confidently. "We need to do this."

"But, Tara-" AJ tried to protest, but was suddenly cut off.

"Please," a voice spoke up. Everyone turned towards Rachel in shock. She had not moved her head, but it was most certainly her who had spoken. Her voice was hoarse and weak, but it was unmistakably her's.

"We have to do it," Rachel said in a whisper. "If we don't, then why should we even bother to fight? Why bother existing without a cause to fight for."

After a few moments of silence, AJ sighed.

"Okay, Tara," AJ said reluctantly. "I'll join. Fiona? Pinky?"

Both girls slowly nodded.

"And Tara," Rachel spoke again. "Please… let me join you."

"Rachel," Tara started to protest, but was cut off.

"Please," Rachel begged. "I… I don't want to be worthless to this group ever again. I need to do something. Just… just let me join you."

Tara smiled, although Rachel would never see it.

"Okay, Rachel," Tara said. "You can come along."

And then, for the first time in days, Rachel smiled as well.

__________

"You're plan is falling to shit!" Sombra screamed out. He was pacing back and forth across the room, as The Unknown sat at the wooden table. "First, Discord proves to be a failure. Now, Moon's dead! She's dead!"

"I know," The Unknown spoke calmly. "But it doesn't matter that her job was a failure. Your country of Vitrumia got the fuel regardless."

"But we are being picked off one by one!" Sombra shouted. "What if they target the King next? Then what?"

"Then you kill them," The Unknown said. "You of all people should not be worrying about death."

"That is not the point!" Sombra yelled. "The point is that these girls are going to fuck up this whole plan, and you don't seem to be doing shit to stop them!" Sombra paused for a moment. "And where the hell is Chrysalis?!"

"Calm yourself, Sombra," The Unknown said. "First of all, these minor setbacks are not interfering with the plan at all. If anything, we are moving ahead of schedule. Second, as long as you do not fail, this plan will work fine, and then everything I promised you will be yours. And third, do you not remember what our dear friend Chrysalis is?"

"A Macer," Sombra responded.

"And do you know what she can do?"

"She can-" Sombra said, before suddenly realizing what The Unknown was getting at. "Oh, I see. So that's where she has been hiding out."

"Of course," The Unknown said. He briefly left the room, and returned carrying two wine glasses, and a bottle of the substance. As he poured, he talked. "While she destroys them from the inside, we can carry out the plan. I've been waiting too long for this. It seems like an eternity. But now, we will finally have what we want."

"You brilliant bastard," Sombra said happily. He took one of the wine glasses, and raised it in the air, as they both took a seat at the table. "I should really stop doubting you. A toast." The Unknown raised his glass as well. "To the end of their world…"

Clink

"…and the beginning of ours."

__________

Cadence walked down the halls at rapid pace. She had waited too long for this, and now, she could finally bring it all to an end. She walked faster and faster with each step, trying to reach the office as fast as possible. Finally, the door was in her sight. The office of Chairwoman Bridgette Celestia lay before her, and only one woman awaited her. After years of searching, and days of relentless torment, she could finally be with Celestia alone. But as she neared the door, three guards stopped her.

"Halt," they ordered. "No one is allowed to see Celestia except under heavy guard."

"But she asked to speak with me," Cadence argued. "It's very important, and very private."

"You can't go in there ma'am," a guard spoke. "Not by yourself. Celestia is on lockdown in here, due to General Wilson's sudden capture. As such, we are required to protect her at all costs. And as such, no one is allowed to be alone with her."

"Can you please just let me in?" Cadence said, very annoyed. "It's urgent."

"No, ma'am," the guard spoke. Cadence groaned, and marched away.

It didn't seem fair to her. She had waited so long, and had come so close. But now, once again, Celestia eluded her. But this time, Cadence could wait. She could wait as long as she needed to. The deer had been found, and now it was simply a matter of firing. One way or another, she would have what she came for. She knew she was supposed to be with the girls, but this was far more important than her assignment. She could pretend all that she wanted that she cared when she really did not. Now, it would be so easy to get to the prey. Besides, what were the benefits of shape shifting if she could not do with ease what was previously impossible? Once Celestia came out of her rabbit hole, then the snake could finally feed. It wouldn't be long now. Maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks, maybe a couple of months. But it was over now. It was finally over.

Can't hide any more, Bridgette, Cadence thought with a sadistic grin. It's finally time that you die.

End of Chapter 6

Chapter 7: A Frozen Tundra (Some Time Later)

Chapter 7: A Frozen Tundra

Part 1 of 3: Some Time Later

February 12th, 2016

Mount Elbrus was a rather tall mountain in Russia. With its pristine, snowy, white mountain ranges, it was truly a beautiful sight to behold. However, while it was a rather pretty location, it also happened to be formed from an inactive volcano, and as such, sulfuric gas occasionally leaked from the mountainside. While people did not live on the mountain, a small town happened to be located rather near it. The small village was pleasant to live in, aside from the severity of the weather, and the population totaled just over two hundred people. The small buildings might have not been the most safely built, but they accommodated for all of the people's needs, including a small store, school, and, what some would have considered most important, a bar. The citizens of this town passed the time by traveling down the mountainside and hunting, or walking around the town and spending time with friends.

However, during this date in particular, no one would dare be walking around the town. A large blizzard had struck the town, blowing harsh winds and cold snow through the streets. Most people stayed home from work and got drunk.

On the other hand, Andrey Ibirni, the storeowner, felt contractually obliged to stay at the store, and watch over it. The chance of anyone arriving in the weather was very slim, but just in case, he waited behind the counter. The amount of time he spent waiting seemed endless. He found ways to pass the time, such as cleaning the store, reorganizing the food, and then cleaning the store again. He read the newspaper, took a brief nap, and yet, no one seemed to arrive. He paced around the building, but it was only twenty meters wide, so it did not pass much time at all. It was getting rather late, although if anyone was to look out their window, they would not be able to tell, as the storm had already blocked out the sun long ago. It was thirty minutes to five o'clock, the time Andrey decided he would close the store. As the hour approached, Andrey checked to make sure that everything was perfectly in place before he left. There were ten minutes left before the hour, when something unexpected happened.

As Andrey was checking over the canned meats, he heard the sound of a bell ringing, signaling that someone had entered the shop. Andrey peered his head over the shelves, and spotted two figures looking around the store. He was even more surprised to see that it appeared to be two young girls who were in his store, both bundled up in heavy winter gear. From the angle he was at, he could clearly see their faces.

The first girl had a somewhat innocent face, yet she appeared rather confident as well. Her brown, almond shaped eyes searched around the store with a definite sense of purpose, indicating that she did not wish to waste her time in the store. She wore a thick cap on her head, covering her brunette hair, although Andrey could make out her pink bangs falling in her face, which she had to constantly brush out of the way. She hugged herself tightly in her puffy, blue coat, as she slowly walked about by the assortment of breads.

The other girl was acting quite in the opposite manner; quickly waddling around every isle, smiling at every item she saw. However, she appeared to be moving faster than her legs could carry her, as she very awkwardly shuffled about as she walked. Andrey soon realized that this was due to the fact that she didn't seem to bend her legs at all when she walked, and, now that he looked closely, her big pants seemed to be much puffier than he had usually seen. Her face was small and round, like that of a child, and two huge blue eyes darted about the room. Her large, pink coat had a fuzzy hood, which constantly fell over her face. Every few seconds, she would have to take the hood, and throw it back behind her, exposing her short, blonde hair, which was actually only completely blonde on her right side; the left side had been dyed one solid shade of pink.

"Uh, hello?" the calmer girl called out. Based on Andrey's observations, she couldn't have been any more than twenty, at most; certainly too young to be walking about in a blizzard. "Is anyone here?"

At this time, Andrey fully rose above the shelves, revealing himself to the ladies.

"Oh, hi," the girl said. "Uh, Vy gavatire pa anglIyski?"

"Vy gavarite pa angllyski," the other girl corrected.

Andrey shook his head.

"Damn it," said the first girl, grabbing a handful of items from the shelves. "Why do you happened to know so many languages, Pinky?"

"Well," Pinky started, thinking carefully. "I guess it all started back when I was three. See, my Aunt Alberta was-"

"Actually, forget it," said the other girl. She walked up to the counter, and placed down her items. She had chosen a loaf of bread, two boxes of crackers, some Swiss cheese, several bags of candy (although she couldn't be sure, for she couldn't read the labels), a pint of ice cream, a case of donuts, and finally, six packs of beef jerky. At least, that was what she thought she had chosen, until Pinky suddenly hobbled over and plopped twenty more bags of candy onto the counter, quickly receiving angry stares.

"What?" Pinky asked confused. The other girl sighed, and rummaged through her pockets until she found some money. Without giving Andrey a chance to wonder about much, they rapidly paid for the items, not bothering to take the change stuffed whatever they could fit underneath their large winter coats, and very quickly walked out of the warmth of the store, back into the icy cold of the snow and ice. Andrey thought briefly about how strange it was for the girls to suddenly appear in such a desolate location, but he shrugged it off, and decided to leave for the evening. He got on his own coat, and walked out into the blizzard. He tried looking around for the two girls, but they had already vanished into the storm.

In truth, however, the two of them had not ventured fifty yards of Andrey's shop. The tick, white snow had blocked off all view of the surrounding area. If Andrey could see the girls, however, he would no doubt see Pinky receiving a very vicious glare.

"I still don't understand what the problem is," Pinky moaned out.

"We can't bring this much food back with us, Pinky," Tara said. "First of all, we shouldn't even be eating all of this junk food. It's not good for our training. Second, it's heavy carrying all of this at once. Third, you can barely walk as it is; you're not supposed to be lifting heavy things at all."

"C'mon! Those complaints aren't fair!" Pinky said. "This stuff isn't bad for us! And we can totally carry this. Dash holds this kinda stuff all of the time. Plus, I actually am allowed to carry heavy things."

"No you aren't," Tara corrected. "The doctor even told us. He said that you can't strain your knees. By the way, while we are on this, you need to stop running around the base every night."

"Okay, if you want to get picky about it," Pinky said rather grumpily. "I can carry heavy stuff over short distances. Besides, we're only walking to the car, and I've done this walk before. And I need to run around! Lying around these past few months is wearing me out!"

At this time, the two had just walked outside of the small town. They needed to walk another hundred yards up the mountainside in order to reach their vehicle. All the while, they were having to maintain the difficult balancing act of keeping the items underneath their thick coats, as well as keeping the heavy snow out of their eyes. However, these actions became almost involuntary, as they were much more focused on their discussion.

"No, you can't just 'take a jog' any time you feel like," Tara groaned. "You're not even supposed to be moving at all. You just don't even seem to realize that you're technically crippled. One wrong step, and your legs could fall apart right beneath you."

"Well, if you're going to keep complaining about me coming along, then why did you even ask me to help out?" Pinky questioned. Tara groaned in response.

"I didn't," Tara stated. "I said I was leaving to stock up on more food, you jumped up from the couch, put on your clothes, and then sprinted out the door."

"Oh, yeah," Pinky said softly, remembering the incident. It was her first chance to leave the base in three months, and she refused to let it pass her by. In hindsight, it perhaps wasn't the best idea, as in her haste to get out of the house, she had to move rather quickly. Every rapid movement of her feet sent horrible sensations of pain up her legs, and, if she wasn't so eager to leave, she might have collapsed right there on the spot. However, the icy cold had numbed her up rather nicely, and now, she barely noticed how much her legs felt like they were going to erupt in spontaneous burst of flame.

The two girls finally reached their car, and hurriedly opened the trunk to shove as much food inside as humanly possible. The car in particular was an old, beat-up, dark red SUV. The car was not in the best shape, but one thing that it did have was a properly working heating system, which the girls were very thankful for. The car was parked on an abandoned mountain trail, which led directly to the girls destination. No one ever needed to use the trail, so the girls took full advantage of this by parking the car in reverse, so that it would not need to be turned around when returning to the mountaintop.

Tara and Pinky removed the items from underneath their coats, and tossed them into the back. They quickly shut the trunk, and, having enough to do with the frosty weather for one day, they entered the vehicle with great haste.

"Finally," Pinky said relief as she sat down. She grasped onto her legs, and started rubbing them vigorously.

"See, you can't even stand anymore," Tara said with a smirk, knowing that she had been right all along.

Pinky let out a groan of defeat, as Tara started up the car. Tara was quite proud of herself that she had pretty much mastered driving in the Russian frontier. Despite the great challenge of the constant horrible weather, and the steep, narrow roads of the mountain, Tara only needed a couple of trips to the town and back to fully master everything. Now, despite the limited visibility, Tara drove up the root with relative ease, tracing the route perfectly by memory. As she drove through the storm, she continued talking to Pinky about their plan for the rest of the day.

"So, AJ might not be back yet," Tara said. "If she is, then we'll spend the day discussing further investigation strategies."

"But if she's not?"

"Then," Tara sighed. "Do whatever you want, I guess. I mean, we know what Dash will probably be doing, so don't bother her. And more importantly, don't bother Rachel."

"Aw man," Pinky said, disappointed. "Are we still doing this thing where only you get to talk with her?"

"Honestly, it's not much of a conversation when she refuses to answer back nine out of ten times," Tara said with a sigh. "But, yes."

"You know," Pinky said. "It might do her some good to speak to us, too."

"I've asked her if she wants company," Tara said. "Several times in fact. Usually she just wants to be left alone. I only talk to her to see if she would come out anyway. Besides, we need to be sensitive about this whole thing. Pinky, no offense, but sometimes, you say some things without really thinking about what they mean, and we don't need you to accidentally upset her. You remember that one time Dash tried talking to her."

"Oh, right, that was awful," Pinky said. "I still don't even know what half those words mean."

"My point exactly," Tara said. "Hopefully, we can get her to come out of that room today. Aside from that, spend the day as you wish. Although, try not to go on another eating binge."

"I was hungry!" Pinky said in protest.

"You ate half of our food supplies!" Tara said in rebuttal.

"I was really hungry!" Pinky said once more.

"Pinky, do you really want to have to take another trip down the mountain?" Tara asked. Pinky considered this, and then sighed. Although she was almost always hungry, she did suppose that having to trek back down the mountainside, go to the store, carry the food, and then trek back up was not something she felt comfortable with. Her legs were currently giving her enough problems; she didn't need them causing any more. In defeat, Pinky crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her seat, a sad expression on her face.

The rest of the drive continued in silence. Tara expertly continued her voyage to the base, while Pinky quietly, occasionally grasping her legs and gently rubbing them. Soon, Tara knew that she was approaching her destination. On the right, out in the cold, was an old, rusted, red sign, which promptly read,

Warning. No Trespassers.

Tara soon noticed other landmarks. A pair of yellow flags to her left. Another warning sign to her right. A collapsed chain-link fence, which was now only barely jutting out of the was only another minute before Tara saw her destination right before her eyes, and smiled thankfully.

Olympus, as the girls had taken to calling it, was a very poor excuse for a top secret military base hidden in the Russian mountains. Established right at the turn of the Cold War, Olympus was designed as a base of operations for a small group of military operatives, who were instructed to observe and measure the civilian population of the Soviet Union. It was almost certainly believed by most government officials that the citizens of the U.S.S.R. were being subjugated to possible indoctrination for the sole purpose of turning them into sleeper agents, which were to be planted within the United States. However, after several years of study, the results revealed absolutely no hint of brainwashing by any of the citizens, and the soldiers instructed to stay at the base demanded to be returned home. They had grown tired of the cramped living conditions, the constant cold weather, and the abuse of their abilities by those higher up than them. Eventually, they left the base as it was, never wanting to have to go through the extremely tedious process of tearing it down. Since no civilians ever bothered traveling up the icy mountainside, the base was never discovered. Celestia had told the girls this, and they all immediately agreed that it would make a perfect place to work while in Russia.

However, the girls had not been told of the biggest flaw with Olympus. While it featured a functional heating system, refrigeration, radio access, and comfortable beds, all of it was cramped inside of a space no bigger than twelve yards wide. However, it did not take long for the girls to accommodate, and now, they practically saw the place as a second home.

Olympus was essentially a black box built into the side of the mountain. Surrounding the base were several layers of security, all of which were now reduced to minor setbacks. There was the large, chain-link fence, which was covered with barbed wire. There was the thick, black gate, strong enough to deflect a shot from a cannon. Finally, there were the two sentry towers, armed with high powered machine guns. Tara drove through the fence, which was left open. She drove over the thick gate, which had fallen to the ground, and was slowly being covered with wet snow. Finally, Tara drove right past the two sentry guns, which had no one to man them. Tara simply drove right up to the front door of the base, and parked directly next to it.

Looking around, Tara noticed that the blue counterpart to her SUV was missing, meaning that AJ had not yet returned from her investigation. Tara knew full well that her friend was most likely alright, but she never liked it when AJ decided to go out. This was entirely the fault of who AJ was searching for. If she were hunting down anybody else, then Tara would not be worried in the slightest. She knew that AJ could handle herself against almost anyone in the world. Unfortunately, the last time AJ took on these men, one of them proceeded to shatter nearly every bone in her body. Tara wasn't even sure if she should have let AJ continue searching to begin with. AJ's recovery had been completely and utterly rushed, and she still had a tremendous amount of trouble trying to perform the simplest of combat techniques. However, AJ's persistence that she would be alright gave Tara enough reassurance that everything would turn out fine. She still didn't know how, but AJ managed to hold onto that remarkable confidence after everything she had been through.

Tara brushed these thoughts aside, and focused her attention on bringing in the supplies into the base. Tara and Pinky cautiously opened the doors, immediately feeling the harsh cold. Moving as fast as they could, they opened the trunk of the car, and started shoving food beneath their coats. The balancing act resumed, as Tara tried to keep the various candies from falling down into the snow. Eventually, after several moments of rearranging the food underneath their shirts, they had taken all of the food from the car, and shut the vehicle doors. They marched several feet through the snow, and then arrived at the front door. Tara, unable to move her arms without dropping the food, banged her arm on the door, creating a primitive knocking on the door. After what seemed like forever, the door finally creaked open, and the two girls pushed their way inside, nearly knocking over Fiona, who had just allowed them to enter. Fiona let out a small yelp as the girls quickly ran over to the other side of the room, allowing the food to fall from their grasp.

The inside of Olympus was divided into two sections: the north side and the south side. Although still in the same room, the north and south side effectively divided up all of the belongings into either one side of the room or the other. The north side was the part of Olympus which was built beneath the rocky mountain, while the south side was sticking out, into the open air. The interior of Olympus was divided into four rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and then another bedroom, all of which had doors to the north side of the base, and then, there was the central living space, where the girls had to fit everything else.

At the southern-left corner, there was the door to the outside, which was also the coldest place in the entire baes, as the door was old, and had several cracks in it, allowing the wind to come through. In the southern-right corner, there was a refrigerator, and next to that were an oven and a microwave. This area officially served as the pantry/kitchen for the team, and although it wasn't necessarily organized (which Tara secretly despised), it at least meant the food would not be scattered throughout the base. On the north-right side, there was a designated training zone, where several weights, a jump rope, and a sandbag were located. Although it was not anywhere close to being as stocked as Camelot was, the girls managed to take full advantage of every use out of the equipment they could get. Located in the center of the room was an old blue couch, just able to sit three people at a time, which faced towards the outside. An old television set was placed in front of the TV. This was a small gift sent from Celestia, in order to make the time spent there seem less dull. Provided with the TV was a collection of DVD's for movies that none of the girls had ever heard of. Occasionally, there would be one film that Pinky would gasp at, before hugging it tightly to her chest. However, anytime they tried the watch the film, they would almost always be confused by the bizarre picture. This central living space took up most of the room in Olympus, and so the girls never left it except to sleep.

Tara, after dumping out all of the food, and putting everything away in a proper location, started to remove her heavy clothing, as did Pinky. The interior of Olympus was heated very efficiently. In fact, sometimes, it actually got too hot inside of the base for any of the girls to deal with it. This led to the bizarre situation in which the girls wore nearly nothing at all inside Olympus, yet wore layers of clothing outside. Pinky went into the left bedroom to change, while Tara stayed in the central area. As she took off her heavy clothing, Tara looked briefly at the other people in the room.

Fiona, who had opened the door, was now hugging herself tightly and shivering. She took quick steps towards the couch, and plopped herself down onto the comfy surface. She brought her knees to her chest, holding them close. Fiona was too wearing very light clothing, which Tara actually took some time adjusting to. Since Tara had known her, Fiona had always worn as much concealing clothing as possible, always covering up her entire body. But now, the heat in Olympus proved to be too much for the angelic girl, who was now wearing a blue tank-top and black shorts.

Fiona had experienced somewhat of a change over the past few months. While physically, the only change was a faint scar across the bridge of her nose, Fiona had greatly increased the amount of social interactions she experienced. She had grown much less shy (although it was still quite noteworthy compared to the others), and seemed to finally be more talkative and open with the others. Even if she had yet to come out to any of them, Tara could still appreciate Fiona's hard work on the subject.

The other person in the room was Dash, who was currently landing punches on the sandbag. Dash's hair, which was once vibrantly filled with colors, was now growing dull and faded, as her natural black hair color was showing more and more each day through the rainbow. Dash received a metal implant in her hip before the girls left for Russia, which Dash promptly referred to as her "transformation into the first bionic woman". However, no one could pay much attention to this because of the long scar which was permanently plastered over Dash's right eye, tracing a nearly two-inch red line from the top of her cheekbone to just beneath her hair line. However, Dash treated all of the stares as compliments, claiming that it was fun to be the center of attention.

Despite Dash's consistency of snide remarks, Tara could not let go of the feeling that Dash had been maturing over the past three months. Although Dash led on no indication of this, there was one particular tie when Tara had witnessed Dash's sudden change in behavior. That incident happened six weeks ago, when the girls were lying around, watching a movie that Pinky had claimed to be a work of art. Dash had completely lost interest less than an hour in, and started making comments towards the actors in the films. One such comment towards the main heroine was an amazing combination of insulting religion, heritage, social class, and medical history, while also managing to mix in comments about incest, rape, and pedophilia. After the words were said, Fiona had politely asked Dash to walk with her into the bedroom. Five minutes later, both girls came out, and remained silent throughout the rest of the film. When Tara had asked Fiona about what she had said, Fiona simply replied that she had politely asked Dash to stop making jokes about certain "topics", at least when Fiona was present. Even six weeks later, Tara was still amazed how Dash seemed to never say anything too offensive, and barely said any insults at all when Fiona was nearby.

By the time Tara had finished thinking of this, she had removed her heavy boots, thick snow pants, cap, and jacket, and taken a seat next to Fiona on the couch. She felt very thankful to be back in a T-shirt and shorts, as the heat of the base was not something to be taken lightly. The movie currently on the television was a French film named, A Little Red Cap, which had been poorly dubbed over in English. This obscure film was made in 1970, and was about a small boy by the name of Marius who had to journey across the country in order to find his father, who had been separated via train. The boy was given a small, red hat for his birthday, and he wears it for the entire film. The only reason Tara really cared about all of this was because over the past few weeks, Fiona had become completely enamored with it, and had started to watch it vigorously throughout her spare time. Tara had no idea what Fiona found so remarkable about the film. To her, it seemed like a poorly developed, badly acted indie film, but Fiona seemed to view it as a masterpiece of cinema. Tara always meant to ask Fiona why she had liked the film so much, but every time Tara tried to talk while the film was on, Fiona seemed to completely ignore the question. She just stared at the screen with big eyes, as if she was in a trance.

Pinky walked out of the bedroom. She also wore light clothing; however, her attire also revealed the presence of two braces attached to her legs. A combination of steel poles and clips kept her legs perfectly straight; the clunky metal squeaking with every step taken. Pinky took a seat on the couch between Tara and Fiona, and grinned when she saw the movie.

"Ooh, it's on again!" Pinky said with delight. "We should make popcorn."

"We didn't buy popcorn," Tara stated.

"C'mon, Spark," Dash suddenly spoke up. "No popcorn? That's like Pinky's… fourth favorite food."

"Sorry, I had trouble carrying it with the twenty bags of candy that Pinky bought," Tara groaned.

"CANDY!" Pinky suddenly sprang out of her seat, and grabbed a bag of chocolates from the pile in the corner of the room.

"Spark, you sound kind of bitchy today," Dash stated, leaning over Tara's shoulder. "Is it that time of the month again?"

"Shut up, Dash," Tara said with a scowl.

"You know, Spark," Dash said as if she were talking to a child. "Just cause your vagina looks like the victim of a serial killer doesn't mean you have to be so mean-spirited."

Tara shoved Dash away from her. Dash laughed as she returned to punching the sandbag.

"Man," Tara thought out loud. "Being stuck in this base is starting to get to me."

"Do you want to step outside for a bit?" Fiona perked up, never taking her eyes off of the screen.

"Nah," Tara said in response. She knew that in order to go outside, she would have to put back on the heavy coat and boots, only to have to take them off a few moments later.

The girls watched the movie until its completion. The film ended with the boy reuniting with his father, followed by a close-up of the red hat, cheesy music, and then the credits. Tara briefly glanced over, and although she wasn't positive, she thought Fiona had tears welling in her eyes. Despite the fact that she had seen the movie well over ten times by this point, Fiona appeared just as enthralled in the ending as ever. With a stretch, Tara rose from her seat on the couch. She briefly checked the time, and was surprised that AJ had yet to return. It was nearly four in the afternoon, and AJ had almost always returned a few hours before dinner. However, Tara soon realized that since it was nearing dinnertime, there was also a more sensitive matter she had to adhere to.

There were supposed to be two bedrooms in Olympus, each containing three beds. The girls agreed that they would constantly alternate between the rooms, so as to allow new roommate combinations every night. However, this plan was completely shattered to pieces when Rachel needed a place to sleep. Without any discussion, the girls all agreed that Rachel would take the right bedroom all to herself, until she was fully ready to deal with the company of others. It certainly seemed like the appropriate thing to do, as to one even could fathom a guess at how any sort of communication would work. In fact, even the most basic of talks continued to be problematic. It was for this reason that Tara decided that she alone should enter the second bedroom. She was the most rational thinker, and she could translate her thoughts very well into words.

Still, whenever this time of the day arrived, Olympus would suddenly become very quiet. The air was still, and the breathing seemed to halt entirely. No matter what was on the television, or who was training, everyone stopped and focused on Tara.

This day was no exception to the rule. As Tara rose from her seat, she instantly received stares. Dash, who was hitting the bag, calmly stepped away from the entrance to the bedroom, which the sandbag was placed in front of. Pinky, who was in the process of replacing the film in the DVD player, was now kneeling on the floor, holding a disc in her hand, and looking at Tara with a worried expression. Fiona shuffled around on the couch uncomfortably, and then asked the question she asked every time that Tara went to see Rachel.

"Do you want some help, Tara?" Fiona asked softly.

As always, Tara gave the same response that she gave every time. Fiona asked.

"I think it's best if just one of us sees her," Tara answered, nearly just as quiet.

The response was not supposed to be taken as offensive. Each of the girls had experience with entering Rachel's room, and it was through trial and error that Tara was chosen to constantly go in. Dash once went into the room and basically treated Rachel like a soldier in the military. Rachel responded to that in a fit of absolute fury, which the girls still fondly remember for demonstrating Rachel's massive, highly offensive, British vocabulary. Pinky had twice attempted to get Rachel to stir, although on both occasions, Rachel didn't respond at all to any of Pinky's actions. It could not be said that Pinky didn't try; she had jumped about happily, and told Rachel fun stories, and tugged on her arms in an attempt to drag her out of the bed in which she lay. But despite Pinky's effort, Rachel sternly remained in bed, moping about, and uninterested in the outside. AJ had once tried to speak to Rachel, despite protests that she wasn't very good at talking about sensitive matters. While it didn't end in violence like Dash, or uncaring like Pinky, it didn't serve any productive purpose. All that occurred was Rachel asking if the Korbalovs had been found, AJ saying that they hadn't, before AJ said a few things about keeping hope strong and having faith in her friends. Aside from that, the evening was uneventful, and AJ told the others that she wouldn't try and do it again, as it seemed to only deliver failure.

Fiona's attempt involved much more subtlety than the others, however. Fiona had sat on Rachel's bed, spoke very softly, and discussed in great detail how everyone missed Rachel's company. She had said that everyone was worried; that their growing concern over Rachel's condition was getting too much to bear, and they simply wanted their friend back in their lives. Fiona's attempt, at the moment, seemed like it had a chance of getting Rachel active. Rachel had actually started a conversation, and the two were getting very close to achieving something. Unfortunately, Fiona made a rather impromptu comment about Rachel losing her eyes being, "not a big deal, really". This particular quote suddenly sent Rachel over the edge in a sudden rage. Rachel proceeded to shove Fiona off of the bed, bombard her with extremely harsh words, and then, using her hearing to guide her, viciously push Fiona to the floor. The pink-haired girl had left the room in tears, and actually needed some comforting of her own afterwards. Fiona eventually gathered the strength to try and talk to Rachel twice more several weeks later. However, both times started and ended with Fiona asking to enter the room, Rachel hissing at her, and then throwing a pillow in Fiona's general direction, followed by the occasional swear or indecent gesture. Despite this, however, Fiona never felt any hard feelings towards the blind girl. Whether it was from understanding or a kind mentality, though, no one was quite sure.

The girls never stopped trying to talk to Rachel, though. After all was said and done, Tara undoubtedly had the most success, although it could hardly be called that. The only reason Tara had succeed was due to the relatively little she and Rachel had talked about. The entire first conversation consisted of Tara asking Rachel if she felt cold, bringing in a glass of water for Rachel to drink, and then wishing her a good night. It was Tara's belief that things needed to move very slowly for everyone to properly accommodate, and on this day, Tara would keep this tradition alive.

Rachel's bedroom could only be described as dark. The room was very cramped; it housed three small mattresses, which could barely contain an entire person, and leading into the room was only about two feet worth of space, which, like the rest of the room, was a mere five feet wide. The room smelled somewhat horribly, and it was almost nightmarish to sleep in. There was a single lamp suspended from the ceiling, yet it had never once been turned on since the girls had arrived. Granted, these cramped conditions applied to both bedrooms, but they seemed to be amplified in Rachel's room far more. This could all be directly linked to the sole occupant herself.

Rachel Germain was blind. She always wondered what it was like not to see anything; what it was like to live every day without witnessing the trees outside the house, or a hand waving right in front of her face, or a beautiful prince, about to marry the stunning princess. She wondered if the blind saw pure white, or they saw pure black, or if it was all just a dull gray. She wondered if they really had enhanced senses, like sharper hearing or a more refined taste. She wondered if they could still feel the relative motion of things moving around her, or everything would just feel still. It wasn't unnatural to think about this, she reasoned. She figured that everyone, at least at some point in their lives, would ask the exact same questions. In some aspects, it was almost pleasant to finally have the answers to such questions.

But mostly, it was absolutely hellish.

Rachel didn't see black, white or gray; all sense of colors was completely lost. Her hearing was just as average as it was before, and she never even felt like eating anything at all. If something had moved twenty feet away or two inches, she couldn't tell. It was if the Earth had completely stopped rotating, and everything had ground to an utter, dull, dreadfully still halt.

Rachel felt nothing except emptiness and misery most of the time. She had long given up on any real reason to live. Her dreams had been shattered many months ago; torn away like her vision. She didn't understand what purpose she had left in the world. How could she be a fashion designer without sight? How could she fight terrorists when she didn't know where they would be? How could she accomplish anything at all? It was these questions that haunted Rachel through every day and every night, endlessly tormenting her with the life that was violently and unfairly ripped from her grasp and thrown away forever into a dark abyss. Every time Rachel had a free thought, her mind would drift back to this recognition of her failure.

However, most of the time, Rachel was in deep pain. The wounds on her body had long ago scarred, and the broken bones had all realigned themselves. Unfortunately, her head had never stopped aching. The doctors had done all they could to limit the chance of further damage to her system. At one point, they considered stitching together her eyelids, so that her wounds would be sealed. However, they eventually decided to implant glass eyes into her skull, so that they would hopefully limit the chances of severe infection. However, the glass objects were terribly uncomfortable, gave Rachel awful pain just by keeping them in her head. It got so bad, in fact, one night, after Rachel was sure that everyone had fallen asleep, she attempted to yank the objects out of her own eye sockets, despite them being surgically attached. The amount of frustration that night led to many tearless sobs.

Rachel's built up despair and desolation quickly started to show through her physical appearance. She had barely showed; only clumsily washing herself when the others were asleep, so she wouldn't have to speak to them. Despite this, she only cleaned the basic essentials, and she never bothered to wash her hair, (as she constantly had a terrible premonition of getting shampoo embedded in her eye sockets), and a thin layer of dust constantly covered her skin. Rachel had long ago given up any prospects of dress, and switched between the same three sets of clothing each day (or whenever she felt like it). She had three different shirts: a white tank top that fit her too tightly, a dark green design-less T-shirt that hung just past her waist, and a blue, very low-cut top that she rarely felt comfortable to put on, even back when she could see. She also carried both a gray and black pair of sweatpants with her. All of her other clothes had practically been discarded, and Rachel didn't want any of the outlandish outfits to be around her. Rachel's hair had also degraded into a clumpy, knotty, tangled mess, which was flopped around without any restrictions. The mess of hair clung to Rachel's face and clothing, yet she never bothered trying to swat it away.

Rachel's activities for the day usually consisted of lying on one of the beds, and staring endlessly into the nothingness. Her mood switched rapidly between extremely depressed to horrid and bitter, all within a matter of seconds. Her feelings were horribly displaced, yet she made no attempt to realign them. Each day only dragged her further down an endless chasm of misery, to which there seemed to be no escape from. Often, she would hear the opening of a door or chatter outside, but despite her deep hope of wanting to get back to a normal life, she constantly pushed the others as far away as possible. It simply was not the right time for her to reenter society.

However, that never seemed to stop Tara from opening the door to her room.

As Tara slowly pushed the door open, her eyes were instantly greeted with black. She blinked several times, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The others had backed far away from her, giving Tara a small sense of isolation. However, she was not at all alone, as she could eventually make out a figure sprawled out across the bed.

Rachel was wearing the white tank-top and black sweatpants, both crumpled and looking quite ugly. Rachel had stopped wearing a bra one month ago, and her shirt, therefore, did not leave much to the imagination, although in the dark, Tara could barely see anything anyway. The rolled up clothing exposed the scars traced all across Rachel's body, leaving the girl looking weakened and pained. Her hair, which was usually in a bun or ponytail, was now left unkempt and resting across Rachel's face. Several strands of hair fell in her mouth, and others kept her face almost concealed in darkness. However, even if the hair was not present, her face would still be mostly impossible to see, as a black, thick headband had been wrapped thoroughly around Rachel's eyes, blocking the view to everything above the bridge of her nose. The headband was not required by any means, but Rachel had hated the glass eyes so much, that she hated it whenever anyone was forced to see them. It was with a somber mood that Rachel had decided that she would rather have her face hidden than force people to view a disfigurement, and this only helped deepen her depression.

After a few painfully uncomfortable moments, Tara finally sighed and spoke up.

"Rachel, are you awake?" Tara asked softly. It was somewhat embarrassing to ask, but she couldn't see Rachel's eyes, and she didn't want to waste her time talking to an unconscious person.

Rachel responded with a slow nod.

"How are you, you know, feeling?" Tara asked.

Rachel answered only in a soft moan.

"We just got back from the store," Tara said. "Pinky got plenty of candy."

"I don't feel like eating," Rachel stated in a loud whisper.

"Come on, Rachel, you said yesterday that you would finally eat something," Tara said.

"Not hungry," Rachel responded.

"Rachel, it's been, like, three days without you eating. You have to eat something," Tara said honestly. Rachel remained silent. Regardless, Tara walked to the kitchen, and in a few moments, reentered the room carrying a glass of water, and three pieces of chocolate. Tara had spent enough time with Rachel to know that whenever she claimed not to be hungry, she was actually quite starving. In fact, Tara was working on a theory that Rachel actually became more irritable as she became hungrier, and Tara believed that Rachel had gone on without eating for far too long. With very quiet footsteps, Tara walked over to Rachel, and placed down the glass of water by her bedside. Then, she placed the chocolates directly next to Rachel on the mattress, and walked away from the bed, satisfied.

"I'll eat when I feel like it," Rachel said, ignoring the gifts before her. She could clearly tell that there was food right next to her, but she didn't have the strength to eat it at the moment. "Has the search come up with anything?"

"AJ hasn't come back yet," Tara said. "I'm sure we're getting close though."

Rachel let out a small groan. The subject of the missing Korbalovs had been distracting her for months, soaking up her attention whenever she managed to get past the pain. Every day, she asked whether or not they found. Every day, the answer came back the same.

"Do you want to come out of here for a little while?" Tara asked, changing the subject.

"No," Rachel responded bluntly.

"Rachel," Tara spoke softly once more. "We really miss your company. We're getting worried. It's been three months. Maybe just for a few minutes…"

"No," Rachel said again, this time slightly more harsh.

"But Rachel--"

"NO!" Rachel yelled at her. Despite her yelling, she had hardly moved. Tara sighed, and slowly closed the door. She knew it was a longshot to hope that Rachel would be social. However, Tara respected the girl's decision, and did not bother with further questioning.

The instant she heard the door shut, Rachel let her arm wander off the bed. She moved her hand around the edge of the bedding as slowly as possible, trying not to hit her hand against anything. Suddenly, she felt something cold bump against her knuckles. She felt the object wobble slightly, before stabilizing itself. She carefully moved her hand around the object, which she determined to be a glass of cold water, and pressed her fingers against the rim. With great caution, she slowly lifted the glass off of the floor, and very carefully brought it to her lips. Using her fingers to guide her, she pressed the cool glass to her lips, and guzzled down the beverage. She clumsily placed the cup back to the ground, water dripping from her chin. The glass clanged against the floor, but Rachel didn't care, as she was too busy fumbling about for the chocolates. She felt her fingertips dig into something soft, and Rachel hastily picked up the candies and pressed them against her face, not caring about the mess she was making. It was true that she was in fact very hungry, but she kept her feelings hidden from her peers regardless, for her own personal reasons of discontent.

Outside, the faint sounds of moans became lost beneath the drone of everyday life, as Tara, with disappointment, walked back to the couch. She rested her chin upon her hands, and sighed. The tension in the room dissipated. Dash went back to punching the sandbag, Fiona readjusted her position on the couch, and Pinky placed another movie into the DVD player. Soon, bright colors and cheerful music filled the room, as joyful cartoons danced around on the screen. Pinky happily bounced onto the couch between the two, and clasped her hands together in anticipation. However, Fiona had stopped focusing on the screen entirely, now shifting her attention to the depressed Tara.

"It's okay, Tara," Fiona said, leaning behind Pinky's head to look at her friend. "She's just getting used to everything."

"Trust me, Fiona, I know," Tara said, disgruntled. "I've really just been a little more stressed out than usual today. Having Rachel acting like she does is just adding to all of the stress."

"Really?" Fiona said, suddenly concerned. Any time that Tara felt unwell in any way, Fiona immediately wanted to know what was wrong. "What are you-"

"QUIET!" Pinky suddenly shouted. "I'M WATCHING SOMETHING HERE!"

The girls halted their conversation, and begrudgingly sat in silence as a cartoon played in front of them. They watched as a large cartoon rabbit was having a less-than humorous conversation with a large cartoon bird.

"That's quite the load of nuts you got there," spoke the rabbit.

"I worked so hard to get them," spoke the bird.

"Why is that?" asked the rabbit.

"Why are y'all watching this again?" a southern voice suddenly spoke up.

"I like to gather them for the winter," the bird said, oblivious to the third person.

Suddenly, Tara quickly turned her head towards the door, and with much relief, saw AJ quizzically looking at the TV screen.

"AJ, you're back!" Tara said gleefully.

"Who gave Pinky responsibility over the movies?" AJ demanded to know. "I really can't leave y'all alone for a day now, can I?"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Pinky asked, offended. However, AJ ignored the question, and instead started taking off her uniform.

Whenever AJ went out for her searches, she never wore heavy coats or boots like the others. AJ hated anything that was large and obstructive to combat, so she never bothered with these things. Instead, every time she left Olympus, AJ took the time to put on a thermodynamic suit that was provided by Celestia. Technically, each of the girls possessed one of these outfits, but only AJ constantly had faith in its abilities. The uniform itself was made of a black, waterproof, elastic fiber, which fit snugly against the body, fully covering the wearer from the toes to the chin. To the average person, it would appear most similar to a wetsuit, but in reality, it was quite more than that. It was designed to maintain a constant temperature, and no matter what weather conditions it was put in, it would always keep the wearer at a consistent heat level. AJ preferred this suit for two reasons: it guaranteed that she would be able to fight if she happened to get caught, and she was able to continue wearing her prized Stetson atop her head, which she very much appreciated.

AJ tossed her hat to the ground, and started fumbling with the clasps and zippers on the outfit. As she did so, she briefly walked into the open bedroom, grabbed some light clothing, and then walked into the bathroom. AJ closed the door just as she started to take off her clothing completely, and then, within a matter of moments, AJ walked back into the central living area, now wearing soft cotton, and holding the suit folded over one arm. She put the suit back into the bedroom, picked up her hat, and leaned over the couch.

"Damn, I could barely see anything out there," AJ moaned, rubbing her eyes.

"So… you didn't find anything, I take it?" Tara said, disappointed. She was fully expecting AJ to give a usual shake of her head, indicating that, once more, the Korbalovs had not been found.

However, AJ didn't shake her head. She grinned.

"Well, I never said that now, did I?" AJ said, proud of herself. Tara practically leapt off the couch in joy.

"You mean you found them!?" Tara said in disbelief. All other distractions in the room became nonexistent. Fiona quickly paused the cartoons on the television. Dash stopped her workout, and stretched out her limbs. Pinky started to complain about the cartoons, until she noticed how serious everyone became.

AJ had opened her mouth to say something, but briefly stopped after she noticed that everyone was staring at her.

"Uh, actually…" AJ said, somewhat sheepishly.

The mood in the room deflated.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'actually'?" Dash said, frustrated. "We've been trapped in this fucking hellhole for months. Don't fucking cock-tease us now! Did you find them or not!?"

"Calm yourself, Dash," AJ said sternly. "Look, I didn't actually find them."

Moans filled the room.

"But," AJ said, smirking once again. The moans stopped. "I think I might have found out where they might be."

AJ reached into her pocket, and pulled out her cellphone. She quickly slid her finger across the screen, and a few seconds later, an image of a graph appeared.

"So… you learned how to make a line graph?" Dash said, half-joking.

"Ha ha," AJ said sarcastically. "Seriously, take a look at this. Now, I've been hiking through these mountains for a long time now. Before we left, I had my phone reconfigured to track high amounts of simultaneous energy releases."

"Yeah, so we could eventually trace Kristov's arms," Tara stated, remembering a conversation she had with Celestia a few nights prior. "But we almost searched the entire mountain range with that thing set to a five mile radius. The snow was too much, and the radar never spiked. We found nothing."

"Exactly," AJ said. "Which is why I've been searching elsewhere. But a few nights ago, I had this idea. See, the Korbalovs are Macers."

"No shit," Dash said under her breath.

"Now, if Kristov just happened not to charge up those big arms of his, then we couldn't find 'em anyhow," AJ said, matter-of-factually. "But, if the Korbalovs got their MACER device illegally, then there's always the chance that they happened to keep it at their home."

"And MACER devices affect their targets through gamma radiation," Tara said, suddenly understanding what AJ was getting at. "That could leave a traceable path for decades."

"Which is why once I reset my phone to track gamma particles," AJ said proudly, tapping the graph on her phone. "A huge signal erupted from just ten miles southwest of here."

"Oh my God," Tara said in disbelief. "We found them. We actually found them."

"Within a two mile radius," AJ said, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. "I managed to track the signal along the base of the mountain ridge. The storm prevented me from getting any closer, though. Still, this should help aplenty."

"Holy shit, AJ," Dash said, not able to hold in a smile. "You actually did shit for once."

"Now we can finally get the General back," Fiona said happily. "Hopefully, he's still alive."

"And hopefully, we can sneak in to get him without too much trouble," Tara agreed.

"Well, before we do that," AJ said. "We need a strategy. Tara?"

"Hmm," Tara scratched her chin. She mulled over the details in her head, and sat on the couch to think. Ten minutes passed by, which were mostly filled with trivial conversations of no particular importance. Luckily, Tara soon rose from her seat, a confident grin on her face.

"Okay," Tara said. "We need to take this stealthily; avoid as much contact with the Korbalovs as possible. We'd need to get an exact location of the Korbalovs base of operations, and then we would need to do reconnaissance, bring gear, get a sense of their schedule, wait for them to leave, etc. Basically, this whole operation could take a few days to perform, at most. And, we would be away from Olympus during the process."

"But we can do it, right, Spark?" Dash asked simply.

Tara nodded. Over the last few hours of the day, the plan was fully worked out. It was decide that at the break of dawn, the girls should leave, fully equipped for combat, for the location AJ had detected. Once there, they would separate into factions, and would divide up the responsibility. They would each search for the Korbalovs' base, but they would also be in charge of surveying the wilderness, setting up camps, observing the other living beings in the area, and so forth.

It was also decided (rather quickly, in fact) that the mission would not in any way involve facing the Korbalovs head on. Each of the girls painfully remembered what happened the last time they fought off against the men, and they had only now fully recovered from all of their injuries. As a matter of fact, none of the girls had ever planned to kill the Korbalovs since they arrived in Russia. While that was, in fact, the original plan, they realized that not only did they not know how to kill the two Russians, but they had no desire to seek out a fight with them either. As such, the current operation was designed with silence and precision in mind.

The sun was already set by the time the girls had finished discussing everything. They all felt a strange combination of drowsiness and adrenaline, weariness and anxiety. The events of the day had become somewhat overwhelming, and they knew that they had to be well-rested for the days ahead. Yet, none of the girls could shake the feeling of excitement that something was finally about to happen. Tara was perhaps the most excited. She had waited far too long at Olympus without anything happening, and now, she could finally get back to work. She had hated the waiting, not because it was simply boring, but because of the interference it had with the rest of her plans. In truth, her stress was caused by the fact that she still knew very little about The Unknown, who was the very reason she had been at P.O.N.Y. in the first place. She craved to get back in the hunt for the masked terrorist, and bring him down, but the Korbalovs had been a terrible roadblock.

But now the waiting was over. It was finally time for the P.O.N.Y's to return to action.

To Be Continued...

Chapter 7: A Frozen Tundra (Regrets of the Sightless)

Chapter 7: A Frozen Tundra

Part 2 of 3: Regrets of the Sightless

A rustling awoke Tara in the dead of night. She was having a rather pleasant dream about returning back to her home when the noise had stirred her. Tara groggily looked around the room. As always in Olympus, two of the girls had to sleep outside in the central room, and unfortunately for Tara, it was her and Fiona's turn. Tara considered herself somewhat lucky, however, as Fiona always let Tara sleep on the couch, while the pink-haired girl slept on the floor. It wasn't something Fiona wanted any sort of payment for; it was just a part of her character which, the moment she laid on the couch, Tara very much appreciated. But now, in the middle of the night and in almost total darkness, Tara could hardly appreciate anything in her drowsy state of mind.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Tara noticed that everything was exactly as it was left. Fiona was lying next to the television, a spare blanket pulled over her shoulders, and her back turned to her friend. Once Tara realized that it was not Fiona who was making noise, she immediately turned her head to the makeshift kitchen. It wouldn't be the first time that she had caught Dash or Pinky rummaging through the food supplies, and Tara thought that it most certainly would not be the last. However, much to her surprise, no one else was in the room with her. She and Fiona were all by herself. She heard the rustling again, and this time, she was able to pinpoint its source. However, Tara didn't actually believe her ears when she located the noise.

The rustling was coming from Rachel's room.

Tara was very tired, but her curiosity completely took over her actions. It wasn't every day that Rachel became active, after all. So, very quietly, Tara stood up from the couch, and tiptoed over to the second bedroom. She made extra sure to avoid tripping over Fiona's sleeping form, but aside from that, she moved with relative haste, not wanting to miss whatever was happening behind the closed door. Tara reached the door, and taking a deep breath, opened it up, hearing a slow, painful creak in the process.

Tara was rather shocked by what she saw. Rachel was up and about, pacing back and forth in the small space between the door and the beds. Her right arm was held in front of her, and she dragged her feet across the floor, occasionally bumping into the bed, creating more rustling. Her hand constantly slammed into the wall, and every time it did so, she made a quick turn, and started to walk in the other direction. However, more importantly than that was that Rachel appeared to be happy. She had a smile on her face as she walked, and it carried both a sense of utmost joy and utter hatred, which was a very strange combination indeed.

But once Rachel heard the creaking, of the door, she instantly stopped moving. Rachel's smiled faded in a flash, and she paused dead in her tracks, her right hand pressed against the left wall.

"Rachel," Tara said, rubbing her eyes once again. "What's going on?"

"Oh," Rachel suddenly said. "I thought everyone was sleeping. I'm sorry."

"That's not answering the question," Tara stated, now closing the door behind her. Rachel looked worried at first, but soon her face relaxed.

"It's nothing, really," Rachel spoke. "It's just… I'm… I'm just incredibly excited."

"Excited?" Tara asked, confused. "Why?"

"Because we found them, that's why," Rachel said, barely able to keep her voice down. "You tracked those motherfuckers down."

Tara was stunned.

"But... how did you know that?" Tara said, genuinely surprised. She didn't recall ever telling Rachel anything about AJ's discovery. As a matter of fact, she purposefully kept Rachel in the dark, out of concern about how the bind girl would react.

"Tara, we live in a fifteen meter room," Rachel said. "It's not really difficult to hear what goes on in this base. I listened to AJ's little report. I've been spending the last few hours celebrating. But that doesn't matter now. All that matters is what will happen tomorrow."

"Rachel, out of curiosity," Tara said. "What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?"

Rachel grinned.

"Isn't it obvious?" Rachel asked happily. "We're going to do what you brought us here to do: kill the Korbalovs; make them suffer."

"Look, Rachel…" Tara started to say, but was cut off by Rachel, who started to pace around the cramped room once more.

"I've been dreaming of this for months," Rachel said with glee. "This confrontation, I mean. I imagined it perfectly…"

"But Rachel, we--" Tara tried to speak, but was cut off again.

"They would never see us coming," Rachel said, an almost sadistic tone in her voice. "We would take them by surprise; kill Kristov first, of course. Rip his bloody heart out. And then, we'd need to take our time with Yuri…"

"Rachel, hold on a second," Tara said, more loudly than before. She wasn't feeling comfortable with the amount of hatred and discontent in Rachel's voice. It sounded as if Rachel really wanted to torture the Korbalovs for what they did to her. It even sounded like she had dreamed of it.

"We could do whatever we wanted to him," Rachel said coldly, getting lost in her own imagination. "I know what I would do to him. Walk up to that smarmy, stupid, cocky bastard, grab onto his bloody face with that idiotic complexion, take my thumbs, and jam them right into his fucking--"

"Rachel, enough!" Tara forcefully said, grabbing onto the British girl's shoulders. Rachel was knocked out of her daydreams of blood and torture, and refocused on reality. "We're not going after the Korbalovs!"

Rachel felt rather confused. She didn't understand why Tara would suddenly start lying to her; she had to be lying, of course. After all, Tara couldn't really be considering ignoring the two most despicable men in the world. The two men who beat her senseless. The two men who forced her to betray her team. The two men who had rid her of sight forever. She simply had to be lying. Right?

"What… what are you talking about, Tara?" Rachel asked with half of a smile. "You can't be serious?"

"Rachel, we talked about it today," Tara sighed, releasing her grip. "We figured it's too dangerous to try and take them down. The mission is to rescue General Wilson, and get back to the States. Nothing more."

Rachel was now entering shock. She could hardly believe her own ears. Was it true? Tara didn't sound like she was joking around. In fact, Rachel couldn't even remember a time where Tara had lied to her, or joked with her. As soon as Rachel realized this, she suddenly regained use of her emotions. And unfortunately for Tara, frustration and rage were the two most prominent ones.

"But… but why!?" Rachel demanded to know. "Don't you remember what they did to us!? What they did to me!? Why aren't we going after them!?"

"It's simply too dangerous," Tara firmly stated. "We can't risk everyone's lives because of a need for revenge."

"But you were the one who wanted to go after them in the first place!" Rachel exclaimed.

"That was before!" Tara said, now raising her voice as well. "I was angry, in pain, and wasn't thinking clearly! I was letting my emotions guide me, like you're letting yours do right now!"

"But you… you…" Rachel said, growing even more frustrated. However, as her rage grew, so did another emotion; one that she had a bitter history with: despair. "You can't possibly expect me to go along with this? You can't expect me to watch idly by as the Korbalovs march right before my eyes!? How do you even think I could go on this mission, and know that I wouldn't be able to get what I deserve!?"

Tara was silent for a moment. She knew that this would have to come eventually. Whether it was at Olympus or Camelot, Russia or the United States, it was inevitable. It pained her to say it, and she knew it would hurt Rachel even more, but it had to be done. It was simply the way things needed to be.

"Rachel," Tara said softly. "You're not coming on this mission with us."

Rachel was not expecting that. Deep down, she knew it would probably be so, but she never actually thought it would transpire.

"I… I'm not going along?" Rachel said in utter disbelief. Tara shook her head.

"No," Tara said sorrowfully. Rachel bowed her head.

"But I… I have to do something…" Rachel said, feeling nothing but disappointment in herself.

"Rachel, look," Tara tried to say gently, but couldn't make the words sound any kinder. "I understand that you want to help out. I know you want to be a part of this team. But… I just can't do it. Bringing you on a mission would mean putting everyone else I harm's way, just to make sure that you stay protected. In this line of work, that's just something I cannot accept. Look, this is really hard to say, but…"

Tara took a deep breath.

"I… think you shouldn't be a part of P.O.N.Y. anymore."

Rachel's heart sank. She fumbled her way onto the bed, and sat on its edge, her head bent over in shame. She couldn't believe it; she was being kicked out of P.O.N.Y. It was a cruel and wicked thing to do; just because of her injuries, she couldn't be involved in one of the most important opportunities in the world. She refused to believe it. Rachel needed to hold onto the hope that there was any way she could help.

"No," Rachel said sternly. "I… I'll think of something. There has to be some way I can help; I just need to find it--"

"Rachel, there is nothing you can do!" Tara shouted suddenly. If Rachel could see Tara's face, even in the darkness, she would undoubtedly see tears. "I know you want to help. Don't you think that I've been trying to find a way for you to do something? That maybe I've been trying to ensure you stay here? I've been thinking about this for months, but there is nothing. I'm sorry."

"You're wrong!" Rachel shouted in defiance, her voice becoming more pained. "I won't be put down! I'll keep searching. I'll find a way to-"

"Rachel, you're blind!" Tara finally cried out. Silence filled the room; both girls feeling a terrible emptiness.

"You're blind," Tara repeated, more softly. Both girls started to break down in sobs as Tara continued to speak. "Do you think I like doing this? Do you think this is what I want to do? You're my friend, but we've just been running away from this for months. I can't just pretend like this isn't real anymore; this is reality. You can't help us anymore. I really, really, really wish you could, but you just can't. You're a liability. I… I just can't let you go out there and get yourself killed. I'm sorry."

There were no more arguments left to be had. All of Rachel's dreams shattered apart, as the cruel nature of the world finally settled in. She was blind. It was something she had been only half-facing for the past few months, but now, everything became clear. She could no longer be part of P.O.N.Y; it was impossible. If she had eyes, she would shed tears. But alas, her sobs eventually died off into a low moan, and all Rachel could do anymore was beg.

"Please…" Rachel said, her voice terribly strained. "I just… I just can't be worthless. You don't know where I'm coming from, Tara. I need to do this."

"No, you need to understand where I'm coming from," Tara said with a hoarse voice, trying her best to remain stern. She wanted nothing more than to tell Rachel she could stay on the team. But she knew that she had no say in the matter. "It's over, Rachel. I can't help you."

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door, and then the door slowly creaked its way open once more. Tara wiped her eyes of tears as she saw a timid Fiona standing in the doorway, an expression of worry plastered on her face.

"Is everything all right?" Fiona asked. "I heard shouting."

"Yeah, everything's fine," Tara lied, rubbing her eyes again. She figured that it was too dark for Fiona to see her tears. "Sorry for waking you."

"It's okay," Fiona said, brushing the hair out of her face. "I was up anyway."

Tara briefly looked back at Rachel, who was now hugging her knees close to her chest, and silently sobbing. It didn't take long for Fiona to notice something was wrong, although Tara spoke before she could say anything about it.

"Fiona, can I talk to you for a minute?" Tara asked. Fiona gave a quick nod in silence, although Tara could clearly see that Fiona had only grown more worried. The two stepped out of the room, and closed the door; Tara gave one last saddened look at Rachel before the door was shut.

"What's going on?" Fiona questioned, very concerned.

"Look, Fiona, you're not going on the mission tomorrow," Tara said rather suddenly. Fiona was taken aback; she had no idea why Tara had suddenly brought this up.

"Wait, why not?" Fiona wondered, feeling slightly depressed.

"I need you to do something really important for me," Tara explained. "I need you to stay here tomorrow, and watch over Rachel."

Fiona quickly cast a glance to the second bedroom, where she could hear the sound of faint sobs.

"What's wrong with Rachel?" Fiona asked. Now that her eyes were adjusted to the darkness, she could see that Tara's eyes were tearstained, although she didn't bring it up.

"I'm just worried that she'll try to do something about the mission," Tara admitted, clearing her throat. "I just want you to keep an eye on her, and make sure she stays here, and stays calm. I'm entrusting this to you, Fiona. You can do it, right?"

Fiona considered this for a moment. While it was true that she did want to assist Tara in the rescue of Wilson, and she hated the concept of Tara going into danger without her, it wasn't very difficult for the smarter girl to affect her decisions, especially if she happened to request something personally. After three seconds, Fiona gave a confident nod.

"Okay, I'll watch over her," Fiona stated. Tara seemed to become more calm after this, and walked back to the couch.

"Thanks, Fiona," Tara said. "I owe you one. Now let's go back to sleep."

Both girls recovered themselves in blankets, and closed their eyes. Unfortunately, neither of them could return to slumber, and they both stayed awake in silence until the sun came up.

__________

February 13th, 2016

The girls set out at nine. It was a tough decision whether to need the thermodynamic suits. The suits were rather uncomfortable, and they questioned whether or not they would need them at all. AJ had argued that they would help with the combat experience, and would be far more efficient to wear than heavy coats. However, after some debating from Tara, the girls decided to put on a light layer of clothing on underneath the suits, so that if they proved to be ineffective in combat, they could be removed. In the end, only AJ wore just the suit, and everyone felt comfortable enough.

Fiona sat on the couch, feeling exhausted. Rachel had never even left her room since the events of last night, which Tara had decided should be told after everything was said and done. She didn't want Rachel's departure to distract anyone, especially during such an important project. But Tara had faith in Fiona to keep Rachel under watch until she returned, and despite Fiona's yawning, she seemed rather capable.

The girls took the red truck, which, while hardly efficient, kept them out of the snow. The storm was better than it was before, and it was supposed to clear up even more as the day progressed. With a turn of a key, the mission had been launched. The first stage was relatively simple; get to the two-mile target zone fifteen miles southwest. AJ had managed to trace out a route to follow, and she sat in the passenger seat, directing Tara along the snow-covered roadways.

The twenty minute trip was surprisingly silent. The P.O.N.Y's were simply so tense and so nervous that all language had escaped them. Even Pinky, who was keen at talking at all but appropriate times, reminded quiet, opting instead to look out the window, and hum to herself. The pathway led the girls downhill to the base of the mountain ridge, where another set of roads carried them along just beneath the large, rocky formations. To their left were the mountains; to their right, a cliff leading down to a ravine. They drove upon the only road through the mountains, yet it was completely deserted.

Suddenly, AJ recognized her surroundings.

"Over here!" AJ called out, seeing the signal on her phone. Tara pulled the car to the side of the road, and slowed to a stop. The girls exited out into the icy cold, and immediately felt thankful for the bodysuits. Their faces were chilled, but their bodies were kept nice and warm. The suits were modified to have holsters attached at the hip, and everyone except Tara had a pair of pistols by their wastes. Pinky also had a rather large sniper rifle attached to her back, which had been modified from the weapon used by Melanie Moon. Besides this, there were also the modifications to the shoes, specifically spikes jammed through the soles, and a rather nifty modification that changed the color of the suits from black to white. In fact, no one even knew this feature existed until AJ pointed it out to them, and they had to take a brief moment to marvel at the advancements in technology.

"Okay, now the signal appears to be coming from just over this here mountain," AJ said, pointing to her left. The slope itself was not steep by any means, but it was very rocky, and one wrong step could lead to a nasty tumble into the jagged stones.

"Got it," Tara stated. Her sword was strapped firmly to her back, and she was glad to be able to use the magnificent weapon once again. "But that just indicates a two mile zone, right?"

"Yeah," AJ said with a frown. "I had to send out the signals manually. It was just a rough guess."

"Well, then I guess it's time to start hiking," Tara said. Dash groaned.

"Great, climbing a fucking mountain," Dash muttered to herself. "That won't be stupid and dangerous in any way."

However, Pinky displayed much optimism, and before Tara had even finished going over the plan again, Pinky had started to jog vigorously up the mountainside, as fast her wounded legs would take her. Tara called out to stop her, but Pinky ignored the shouts, and was already about fifty yards up the mountain.

"Okay, talk as we walk, people," Tara ordered. "Let's move."

The girls officially started their ascent (although Pinky was now two-thirds of the way to the edge of the mountain, moving surprisingly well for someone who was nearly crippled), and rechecked their strategy as they went.

"So once we get to the top of this hill," Dash said. "I take the long way around with AJ, and keep a lookout for some big-ass fortress, or something."

"Basically," Tara said, keeping her arms raised to block out the wind. "Pinky and I will take a direct march through, and if any of us spot something, we can all rendezvous from different angles."

"But here's the thing," Dash said. "How long do you really think this will take us? Don't give me any of that bullshit like, 'it will depend on factors', or some stupid shit like that. I mean, what's your real guess on this thing?"

"I don't know," Tara moaned out. "It could take all day for all I know. And that's just to find them. That's not even counting the rest of the operation."

By this point, the three were nearly at the top of the mountain, which was actually rather short itself. Pinky was already standing at the peak, and she was gazing out beyond where the girls could see.

"How close do you think we started, though?" Dash asked. She was trying to find some perspective that made it seem like there was less work to do. Unfortunately, every time Tara spoke, it seemed like it would take longer and longer to accomplish the most medial tasks.

"Could you stop asking things like that!?" Tara said, now clearly annoyed. "Asking it over and over again isn't going to make it get any closer. It's probably miles away, and it will take hours to cross that kind of distance in these conditions!"

"Or it could be that thing over there," Pinky suddenly called behind her, pointing to something in the distance.

Tara reached the peak, and could hardly believe her eyes. Roughly two hundred and fifty yards away, tucked nicely into a long plain of snow inside a circle of mountains, was what appeared to be a giant log cabin; its lights shining brightly through tremendously large glass windows. While the structure was made of reinforced wood and stone, the majority of the house was made of six inch thick glass. If Tara was closer, she would unmistakably be able to look inside, and see the vast, comfortable looking living area inside. The house clearly looked like it was occupied, and with great joy, the girls realized that they had stumbled right upon the Korbalovs' house. However, in a matter of seconds, Dash's joy turned to frustration, as she bitterly turned towards AJ.

"You mean you were, like, a football field's length away from their base the whole time!?" Dash spoke with a hiss. AJ scowled.

"Hey, I couldn't go anywhere in that weather," AJ stated in defense. "It's not like I could do anything about it anyway."

"You could have done something, you lazy bit-" Dash started to say, before Tara stopped her.

"Calm it, Dash," Tara ordered. "What's important is that we found the base. Step 1 is complete, and a lot faster than we thought it would be."

"Fine," Dash groaned. "Now what?"

"Now we wait for our chance to strike," Tara stated. "Step 2 has officially begun."

__________

Olympus could only be described as somber. Everything was painfully quiet; so much so that each insignificant background noise amplified in Fiona's ears. She had nothing to do except sit in silence. Of course, there were other things she could be doing to preoccupy herself, such as watching A Little Red Cap for another time, but she felt that doing so would be horribly disrespectful. After all, it was not a time to be enjoying anything at all.

Rachel was leaving.

It wasn't terribly challenging for her to figure out. She had heard plenty of choked sobs from Rachel all throughout the night, and now, in the quietness, she could hear them even more clearly. It was dreadful to listen to. Her friend was having a breakdown mere feet away, yet she couldn't do anything about it, for Fiona feared that talking could put Rachel over the edge. And so, she continued to sit on the couch in silence, hearing the cries of a broken heart.

But it was worse for Rachel. She was in her room, sitting on the ground with her back to the door, and her knees pressed to her chest. How unfair was it all to find out that she had been a failure once again. Rachel had struggled with many difficult things in her life, but never before had she felt so alone. She could only blame herself, no matter who would tell her otherwise. She felt utterly responsible for everything bad that had happened to her; it wouldn't be the first time in her life. She could only wish that she had the power to fight back; to change it all; to rewind the clock.

This power did not exist within her, unfortunately. In her desperation to finally matter, however, she managed to cry out to Fiona.

"Fiona," Rachel cried out. "Please…"

Fiona was shocked at the sudden break in silence. She stood up, and slowly walked to the second bedroom. She placed her hand upon the door, but she couldn't open it. She didn't have the courage to face Rachel during such a distressing time. Still, she managed to find the energy to take a deep breath, and respond.

"I can't, Rachel," Fiona said, already knowing what Rachel was going to ask. "You know that."

"How can you do this to me?" Rachel pathetically asked.

"We both know it needs to be done," Fiona spoke sadly. "You can't fight people when you can't even see."

"It's not that," Rachel admitted. "It's not something you would understand."

The comment struck Fiona with great interest.

"Why wouldn't I understand?" Fiona questioned softly.

"It's just…" Rachel said, unsure how to answer. "I… I need to be a part of this. I can't be worthless."

"You're not worthless," Fiona said, confused. Yet she could practically hear Rachel shaking her head.

"Yes, yes I am," Rachel repeated. "This was my chance to prove my worth. This was my chance to show everyone that I did the right thing; that all of the lies and heartbreak actually had some meaning behind it."

"Lies?" Fiona asked. "What lies?"

Rachel realized that she said too much. She changed the subject.

"N-nothing," Rachel said, quickly trying to wipe the mucus from her nose and regain her complexion.

"Have…" Fiona said in disbelief. "Have you been hiding something from us, Rachel?"

"What? That's… that's ridiculous," Rachel said, growing very nervous. Fiona didn't buy her bluff.

"Rachel, is something wrong that you can't tell me about?" Fiona questioned. Rachel stuttered about aimlessly, trying to pass off everything as preposterous. But Fiona pressed on, now immensely curious as to what Rachel could be so worried about. "Rachel… you know that you can tell me anything. We're friends."

"I…I… I just can't, Fiona," Rachel said with a sigh. "You don't know what it's like; to have to live nothing but a lie each and every day. You would never understand."

Fiona was silent. She remained this way for many moments, contemplating a great many things. But finally, after so many thoughts had bounced around her head that she felt it would burst, she spoke again, barely in a whisper.

"I know what it's like," Fiona admitted. Rachel listened intently, as Fiona sighed. "I know that it's like agony. That every moment you feel like someone will find out is like driving a nail through your head. I know what it's like to despise it so much, and to feel so ashamed of it, but know that you can never let it go. I know what's like for others to hate you for it, when you only want their understanding. And I know what it's like to live with it every single day, carrying around like ghost that never leaves you alone, even in your darkest hours. I might know what that feels like more than anyone."

"But I also know what it's like to let it out," Fiona continued. "To tell the truth, it's one of the greatest things in the world. You think you can just drag it around forever, but you can't keep it with you, or it will destroy you entirely. It's not easy to let others in, and it's not easy to have faith in them, but trust me when I say that it's the only way to stay afloat. Look, Rachel, I know you feel afraid of this, and I know you don't want to let me in. But… please; you need to have trust in me. You need to let it out."

Silence. There was only silence. Dreadfully long, empty, painful silence. A door separated them; the angel who wanted the truth, and the blinded who wanted solace. They were both so far apart, yet so close together; both wanting to be with and without each other. It was either the strangest combination, or one that fit together perfectly; there was really no way to tell unless they opened the door. But then why was it so challenging; why was it so easy to keep others out, but so hard to let them in? Why couldn't it be as simple as turning a knob on a door? Or was it?

The great conflicting thoughts were present all around. Could she do it? Could she let them in? Would she? How was it possible that the most timid of all could break free, while the most extravagant lied in chains? How was it possible, and how did she do it. Although maybe it wasn't how; maybe it never was. The lies that she thought kept her hidden had only kept her constrained, and perhaps, just perhaps, the question wasn't how the door should be opened.

It was why.

And to Rachel, the simple concept of faith seemed to be reason enough.

"Do you really want to know?" Rachel asked, more anxious than she had ever been. Fiona smiled.

"Of course, I do," Fiona said as honestly as she had ever said anything.

Rachel couldn't believe what she was about to do. It was never something that had crossed her mind before. What would Fiona think of her? How would she feel. These natural thoughts of worry were present, but they weren't Rachel's focus. Her focus was saying aloud what should have been said a very long time ago.

"I'm… not who I say I am," Rachel said. "Almost everything I've told you girls about me is a lie. My family, my interests, my life… it's just been one giant fabrication."

"What… what do you mean?" Fiona asked. Rachel sighed.

"When I was born," Rachel began. "I was diagnosed with a severe mental illness. It wasn't like something anyone had ever seen before; it wasn't fatal or anything, but it was certainly odd. I was born with an increased amount of memory and cognitive cells in the cerebrum. To put it in Laymen's terms, I was essentially a human supercomputer. Ever since I was two years old, I was able to instantly remember absolutely anything I ever saw or heard. But it was more than that; I couldn't just remember it, but I could understand it all. It was an incredible sensation."

"So that's your big secret?" Fiona said, quite surprised. "You're smart. That's not really a big deal."

"First of all, I wasn't 'smart'; I'm one of the most intelligent people on the planet," Rachel said, actually smiling back at some of the memories. "Secondly, that's not the problem. Just listen for a bit. Anyway, my intelligence was, and is, basically unmatched by most normal human beings. I have an IQ of 285. I can read through an entire college-grade science textbook in an hour, and can perfect a test on every topic in it the next day. Hell, the reason I got into Ymerton was because I got a perfect score on my SAT's."

Fiona considered this for a moment. She had known that Ymerton was one of the most prestigious schools in the country, and it was incredibly difficult to get in. She had briefly wondered how Rachel had entered the school for a fashion program, but the mystery now seemed to resolve itself. Rachel continued on, thinking back to her younger days with sentimentality.

"The best time of my life happened just before I turned ten. My family life was actually perfect, for once. Not only did my parents actually seem to like each other, but I also had a sister during this time. Her name was Belle, and she was only three at the time. She was really a sweet thing, and I wanted her to grow up to be just like me. I really liked those times we spent together. School was also fine up until that point. Since I was so much smarter than the other kids, I was told I should have skipped several grades. Technically, I might have graduated senior high a year earlier, in fact. But I kept refusing them, because of one person in particular: Selina. Selina was my only friend when I was a kid. We were both essentially the most basic form of, well… I guess 'nerds', would be the term. We met in the first grade, and stuck to each other like paste. Selina always had a problem managing her weight, and I wasn't very pretty or anything, and I looked like what anyone would expect from a loser; I even wore glasses back then. We were like the perfect pair."

"But kids were always just a bunch of pricks to us. Even at a young age, children knew how to say rancid things. I always shrugged it off as nonsense. But once I was ten, the other kids got much worse. They would throw stones at me as I walked home from school, they would trip me in the halls, they would taunt me both in and out of class; it was hellish. I can't even remember how many times I was beaten up. Selina got it even worse, though. She was called a 'fat pig', and 'a shameful existence'. But she was never put down by it like I was. We had lockers next to each other, and she used to say to me, 'Those blokes are just jealous that they can't comprehend our vast superiority. They can take those fancy insults of theirs, and shove 'em right up their arse. Right?' Those always cheered me up. But even then, things never seemed to get better. At home, things were even shittier. My mum had found out that my father had cheated on her with his secretary; there was so much screaming all of the time. It might have been even worse than school."

"There was this vicious cycle over the next three years of bullying, beating, and cheating. I couldn't get out of it. Still, I tried to keep to what I was good at; learning. I read everything I could get my hands on, advanced human biology, advanced calculus, advanced United States History, you name it. I learned the entire political backstory of Argentina on a Tuesday night when I was bored. I still know the name and policies of every one of its rulers. Every year, I would get an offer to jump ahead to college; I couldn't believe what an opportunity it was. I considered taking it several times, but I never did, because I didn't want to leave Selina all alone with the bullies. I hated those kids. I deeply despised each and every one of them with all of my heart. All I wanted was Selina and I to be happy, and those assholes kept fucking up everything."

"And then, suddenly, everything changed when I turned 13. Senior High was upon me before I knew it, and more importantly, I quickly noticed that I was becoming more… woman-ish, so to speak. You know what I'm talking about. It all changed so fast. The next thing I knew, the insults stopped, and were replaced with compliments. People actually talked to me because they wanted to, not because they wanted to taunt me. One night, several of the popular girls had invited me to a party. I couldn't believe it. Soon, that became commonplace, and I was the most popular girl in the school."

Suddenly, Rachel's tone darkened, and Fiona could detect that she was slowly bringing forth hateful emotions into her speech.

"I actually thought things were going to get better. But I was horribly mistaken at the time, and I couldn't judge the situation clearly. Very soon, I learned that it was not an easy task to remain at the top of the food chain. The parties became more and more frequent, and I found that I had to change myself in order to avoid the tormenting of the others. The amount of time I spent studying had to be reduced. My tastes needed to be altered as well. The popular girls cared little for physics and mathematics; all they cared about was what sluttish tops they could wear. So, I evolved. I tried my best to lose interest in textbooks, and learned the styles of the latest fashions and outfits. My grades slowly started to drop, as I needed to purposely fail tests in order to draw off suspicions from the others that I was some sort of brain-damaged freak. I still remember when I came home with a failing grade, and seeing how baffled my family was. They had never known me to be a failure before, and to them, it seemed like another step in our family's road to destruction."

"But that wasn't all I had to do. I needed to test myself in other ways for approval. Those girls were monsters, building themselves up on incredible highs. One night at a party, one of them slipped me a pill of ecstasy. They told me to take it, and when I refused, they started taunting me again. I couldn't take the peer pressure; I gave in, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the couch with no shirt on and a horrid headache. That was how I basically spent the rest of high school. The amount of things I did could put most people to shame."

"And I think that wasn't even the worst part. All of these events had started to slowly pile on top of each other. I was going out every night, and I didn't make it to school half of the time. My grades plummeted like mad. My house was in turmoil too; my dad was caught cheating again, and this time, my mum threatened with divorce. That was stressful enough, but the other kids kept raising the bar on what it meant to be one of the special people. I lost all control of myself at those parties; sometimes I passed out drunk, sometimes I was convinced into snorting cocaine, and most of the time, I went to bed with the first horny bastard that I saw, usually without protection. I felt disgusted with myself. I was ashamed of everything that I had become. I felt like I was eventually going to die from all of the thing I was doing to my body, and it absolutely petrified me. But I kept doing it regardless. Still, I needed to reassure myself that I wasn't utterly useless; that I could still be much worse of a person than the out of control monster I was transforming into. So, I brought myself up the only way I could think of."

"You became a bully," Fiona suddenly interrupted in a hushed voice. She had remained silent until this point, but the story's destination was getting quite clear to her. "You attacked everyone else to make sure you didn't feel repulsed every time you stared at yourself in the mirror."

Rachel snickered. "Yeah, that's pretty much what happened. I had a rather cruel vocabulary, and I never left a victim tearless when I was finished with them. I ridiculed anyone I could to maintain my power. It didn't matter who; I just needed to feel like I had some sort of worth in the world. I hated myself for it, but that didn't matter. In the end, I became the very thing that I had once hated, and no matter how much I wished it weren't so, I refused to change, even when I heard stories of people cutting themselves over things I said. One day, I noticed several other popular girls tormenting someone I the halls. It just so happened to be Selina. We had grown apart over the years, and I know that things had only gotten worse for her. She was harassed endlessly, and no one had ever come to her aid. When I saw what was going on, I instantly rushed over, and joined in on the taunting. The others all stopped and listened to what I had to say. I… I still can't believe what I said to her that day. If you were there, you probably would have slapped me across the face. She tried fighting back, calling me a 'rotten, unloved whore', and saying how, 'people like me deserve to beaten excessively.' But she couldn't hold out for long; my words were simply too much for her. I… I still remember the last sentence I said to her. I… I said, 'You know… the world would probably be a much more pleasant place to live if the fat, disgusting, wild animals like you were rotting in the earth.' She ran out of the school in tears. Those… those…"

Rachel took a deep breath, as she suddenly broke down once more from the memories.

"…those were (sob) the last words I ever said to her. (sob) The next morning, I entered the school, and received nothing but shameful glares. One of the other (sob) students told me what had happened: Selina (sob) had hung herself from her closet the night before. I (sob) couldn't believe it; it just didn't seem real. In a flash, (sob) every feeling of dread, every feeling of remorse, every feeling of self-hatred came back full force. It was overwhelming. I had (sob) to go back home because I couldn't hold myself together (sob)."

"Everything fell apart after that. It was (sob) just a string of one wicked event after the other. I was getting all of the blame for (sob) Selina's death. People would constantly send me hate (sob) mail telling me to drink bleach, and they told me that I shouldn't (sob) deserve any happiness for the rest of my life. All of this built up the pres-(sob)-sure in my household to its breaking point, and eventually, we split apart. (sob) The custody battle was ferocious, but in the end, my mum (sob) took Belle, and moved to the States, while my father and I stayed in (sob) England. He wasn't much of a help in dealing with the (sob) stress. In the end, the question I asked myself every (sob) night was what to do with my life. It took months (sob) to decide, and all the while, I still had to deal with the tormenting from the (sob) school, the peer pressure of my 'friends', and the guilt of causing the death of (sob) one of the only people who ever actually cared about me."

"But you know what I (sob) did? I decided not to change anything. I looked myself in the mirror for a long time (sob), and although I saw a murderer, I knew I (sob) could never change. I felt like… if I did change (sob)… if I went back to my true self (sob)… then everything would be pointless. It would almost be like I had wasted (sob) years of my life trying to be something, and getting only pain and suffering out of it. But I thought that if I (sob) stayed on the current path, if I kept up my little illusion of my life, (sob) then maybe it wouldn't turn out to be a fruitless effort. Maybe, just maybe (sob), I wouldn't feel like I had been completely worthless to the (sob) world, only good to hurt others."

"And Fiona," Rachel said to the door, noting how quiet the other girl was being. "I lied about a few other things (sob) to. First of all, I came to America because (sob) I wanted to find my sister. I know I said it was to (sob) get into Ymerton, but really, I just want to find her; (sob) maybe rekindle that old feeling of joy we used to have together. Also, I really (sob) fucking hate fashion. It's bullshit, and stupid, and no logical person should (sob) care about it. But most importantly, I lied about why I joined P.O.N.Y. I know I (sob) said I joined to avenge Spyke; I lied. I… (sob) I joined for me. I knew it was finally a chance (sob) for me to prove my worth; one final opportunity to add something to the world, where I could contribute so much (sob). And I guess that's why I need to go on this mission too. I (sob) know it's stupid, and I know so much has changed, but… (sob) this is all I have now. If I can't be of any use now… (sob) what use could I ever have?"

That was all that Rachel said. The entire time, Fiona had listened carefully to every last detail. In the end, she wasn't entirely sure what to think, or what to feel. As time passed, the silence remained, and soon Rachel started to feel as if she had offended the shy girl beyond repair.

"Fiona?" Rachel called out. "Do… do you hate me now?"

Fiona didn't answer the question. Instead, she somberly sighed.

"I was bullied a lot as a kid," Fiona said rather suddenly, much to Rachel's surprise. "I used to hate the other children so much, and I always wondered: if I ever saw one of them again, what would I say? I used to think that maybe I would attack them; get payback for what they said to me. But honestly, I don't think I really hate anyone. Everyone has made decisions that they deeply regret. I don't think anyone should be blamed for that."

Fiona smiled at the door. "I don't hate you Rachel. You're a good person, even if you don't want to think it. I'm sorry for what happened, and I'm sorry for all of the things you had to do. But you don't have to lie anymore; you can put all of that behind you, and become the worthwhile human being that you already are."

"You know what?" Rachel said, now smiling to herself. "I'm sorry, Fiona. For that nasty shit I said to you a few weeks ago. I despise that kind of cruelty. And you know what else?"

"What?"

"This may be the last time we spend together," Rachel proclaimed. Despite the grim circumstances, neither she nor Fiona could keep from grinning. "I may not get another chance to say this, but… you are a wonderful person, Fiona. We haven't spoken to each other a lot, but you are truly a sweet girl."

"Thanks," Fiona said happily. "And by the way, I think 'freak' Rachel would be a splendid person as well."

"She is," Rachel said, even starting to laugh. "I may not be on this team any longer, but mark my words, Fiona: I will do everything in my power to be as worthwhile as possible." She paused for a moment, before suddenly laughing fully. "Man, I just thought about how ironic this is; I needed to get my eyes ripped out to see how everything should have been. Isn't that the story of my life?"

However, she was met with silence. What Rachel had not known was that ever since she started smiling, Fiona had considered doing something incredibly dangerous and stupid. When she didn't even realize it, Fiona had gotten up, walked to her room, grabbed the necessary items, and returned with an immense amount of confidence. The next thing Rachel knew, the door was being opened up behind her, and something soft was being tossed onto her lap.

"Rachel, put that on," Fiona said, smiling with determination. While Rachel was shocked, Fiona breathed a sigh, and said something which she felt that she might drastically regret later that day.

"You're not going to feel worthless anymore. Get up. We're going after the Korbalovs."

__________

At the peak of the mountain, a small base camp had been established. Using supplies they brought in the car, they made themselves a rather comfortable shelter for the storm (or as comfortable as they could make it when surrounded by snow). They had dug out snow graves into the mountainside, and were prepared to sleep there if necessary, covered by thick sheets. The storm had gotten better as the day went on, just as predicted. There was still plenty of snow to go around, but it was much better to see in now, and it wasn't nearly as cold as it was before. The four girls could now clearly see the Korbalovs' house, and watched it constantly.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be the major problem of the day: nothing was happening. As the hours passed, Pinky lied on the mountain and stared the building down under the scope of her gun, only looking away to briefly accept a piece of chocolate from Tara. The others had drawn out more plans, and after a laborious process, they were quite certain that they could handle any situation. However, in order more all of their plans to work, they needed to study what the Korbalovs did during the day. Yet that time never came, and now, as darkness started to fall, and the storm ravaged on, the girls waited around the mountain peak, very bored and very tired. Eventually, Dash had had enough, and started marching about in a furious manner.

"This is bullshit!" Dash loudly proclaimed. "We have all these giant fucking plans, but we're useless as dicks since no one will fucking do anything! Are you sure this is even the right house, Spark!?"

"Who else lives in the middle of a mountain range?" Tara retorted, now rising to meet Dash, who was walking just above her. "Besides, I told you it would take a long time."

"No you didn't," Dash corrected. "First you gave a vague answer. Then you said it could take a while. Then you said that it would take less time than we thought it would. Don't fucking make up history, Spark."

"Dash, is there any chance you could stop being pretentious at this time?" Tara rudely remarked. Dash took mock-offense.

"Ow, my feelings," Dash said, clutching her chest. "How will I ever be the same!?"

"Hey, guys!" Pinky called out. However, she was ignored, as Tara and Dash started to fight, and AJ was too busy shaking her head in disappointment at their actions.

"How is it that we've been back in action for one day, and you go back to automatically hating everybody?" Tara said. "You were actually tolerable back at Olympus!"

"Well, yeah," Dash said, walking closer to Tara. "Cause I was bored and sweaty and shit. But now I'm so hot and bothered that I just can't contain my fucking emotions anymore. Who knows; maybe if you practice cunnilingus with me, we can all get along swimmingly."

"Tara, Dash, AJ…" Pinky said, looking back at them.

"How do you generate these immature comments so quickly?" Tara wondered aloud, now approaching the rainbow-haired girl in annoyance.

"I don't know; I guess it's cuz I'm just so damn wonderful," Dash announced with a grin.

"KORBALOV!" Pinky shouted in frustration. The focus immediately shifted to her, and Tara and Dash stopped their bickering, and walked over to her; AJ stood up from her perch on the snow, and looked off towards the house. Pinky was staring through the scope of her rifle at a large man standing in front of the house. Despite the heavy snow and great distance, she was able to make out most of his features. She could see that he wore a thick fur coat, which was light brown in color, and had a wide hood, which was pulled up over his head, covering his eyes from view. She could see that he wore black pants, and had on thick boots, which were somewhat sinking into the snow. Pinky could make out some other things as well; he had very thick black beard, which would have kept his face very warm. She could see that the coat he wore was torn at the sleeves, separated at the bicep. And most importantly, she saw that he had two deep crimson arms.

"It's Kristov," Pinky announced to the others, never looking away.

"What's he doing?" Tara asked, very curious. She could only make out a vague shadow in a blanket of white, and she found herself heavily relying on Pinky's abilities to say what she saw (which she didn't have too much faith in, if she were to be honest).

"He's kinda just standing there," Pinky said, trying to focus. "Wait, now he's moving."

Pinky announced what Kristov was doing as she saw him. She saw him face the mountain to her far right. She saw him stretch out his limbs, and then slowly pull his arm back. She announced that he had slammed his fist into the ground, and immediately afterwards, all of the girls felt a shockwave through the earth beneath them. It wasn't enough to knock them over, but it was certainly noticeable. Pinky then saw him turn so that his back was to her, and then repeat the process, slamming his fist into the ground, and shooting out a shockwave towards a faraway mountain, which split through the snow as it went, and left a terrible rumbling.

"What's he doing now?" Dash asked. Pinky tried her best to explain.

"Okay, he's turning this way," she said. "Not all the way; he's facing kinda to our left. Okay, now he's pulling his arm back; he's going to do it aga-- wait, he stopped."

"He stopped?" Tara said, confused. Pinky nodded.

"Yeah, now he's just standing there again," Pinky said. Every few seconds, she would report what he was doing. "Still standing. Still standing. Still standing. Still standing. Still standing… wait, now he's moving again."

Pinky paused.

"Well, what's he doing?" Tara pleaded to know. Pinky, however, was quite baffled.

"I… I don't know," Pinky admitted. "He's… kneeling."

"Kneeling?"

"Yeah, he's holding his right arm close to his chest," Pinky said. "Okay… now he's running in our direction, and his arm is all glow-y. Now he's…"

Pinky suddenly became horrified.

"RUN!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. She stood up, and immediately bolted towards the other side of the mountain peak. Tara took one glance at Kristov, and instantly understood what was so frightening. Kristov had broken into a sprint, and while he was running, he cupped his hands together, and placed them over his head. In a flash, he leapt into the air, and then with all of his strength, slammed his mighty fists into the ground. The next thing anyone knew, he was suddenly airborne; the shockwave had propelled him upwards at a great velocity, and know, he was falling right on top of the girls camp; his teeth gritted together, and his arm pulled back, ready to strike out. The girls ran as fast they could over the peak, and back down the other side of the mountain. They had the slightest hope that maybe, just maybe, they could get back to the car, and retreat back to Olympus.

But those hopes were shattered, as when the girls were less than a quarter-way down the slope, Kristov collided with the ground near the peak. The shockwave was incredibly intense, and within a matter of moments, all four of the P.O.N.Y's had been launched in the air, and were now tumbling down the rocky mountainside.

To Be Continued...

Chapter 7: A Frozen Tundra (Rewritten)

Chapter 7: A Frozen Tundra

Part 3 of 3: Rewritten

The process to get Rachel to the proper destination was not just laborious, but also quite tedious. First, it took nearly fifteen minutes for Rachel to slip into her thermodynamic suit, as she could barely figure out where all of the zippers and clasps were located. Eventually, Fiona found herself having to help out, which she found very embarrassing, as she needed to help one of the most physically stunning beings on Earth not just get into her suit, but out of her other clothes. Fiona had to force herself to look away as often as possible. Once that painful experience had ended, Fiona had dragged Rachel outside, and spent another ten minutes guiding Rachel into the car, and then making sure she had supplies. She briefly considered bringing a gun, but she doubted that it would be much use to them.

However, the most troublesome of all was simply driving through the storm. Fiona had never been a particularly good driver, as her foster family refused to get her professional lessons, and she was forced to teach herself. The mountainside provided great difficulty to navigate with its bumpy roads and slippery terrain. It was also a problem that Fiona didn't have any real idea of where AJ had actually found the signal. Everything looked roughly the same to her, and for a moment, she was quite certain that she would never find the others, and would have to turn back. However, sensing discontent, Rachel suddenly spoke up.

"We've traveled six and four tenths of a mile," Rachel stated very factually. Fiona, confused, turned to look at her.

"What?" Fiona asked.

"You've been driving exactly six and four tenths-… no, wait, six and one-half of a mile," Rachel stated once again.

"How do you know this?" Fiona wondered aloud. Rachel shrugged.

"I've been using the sound of the engine to indicate our current velocity," Rachel simply said, as if it were the most basic thing in the world. "It was a simple matter of calculating d=st. I recommend you pick up the pace if we're going to make it."

Fiona didn't have time to question how Rachel could judge such things in her head, and simply decided to travel faster. She remained cautious however, much to Rachel's annoyance.

"Come on, Fiona, move!" Rachel practically shouted at her.

"Rachel, you should know that it's really bad out here," Fiona said, trying not to get annoyed. Rachel simply groaned, and the two continued on. About twenty minutes later though, Rachel suddenly yelled.

"Okay, they should be right around here somewhere," she announced.

"Are you sure?" Fiona asked, continuing to drive. "Your math is totally righ- Hold on, I see their car!"

Fiona pulled to the side of the road, next to the blue vehicle. It was heavily covered in snow, but unmistakably belonged to their team. The two girls exited the car, and were instantly met with a blistering wind.

"Bloody fuck, it's cold out here," Rachel said. Fiona gazed up at the mountainside, but the snow often fell into her eyes, and she could barely see more than a few feet up. She thought she felt a rumbling beneath her, but her mind suddenly became troubled, and her attention was directed elsewhere.

"Oh man, I can't believe I forgot that!" Fiona suddenly said, bringing her hand to her forehead. "How did I do that!?"

"Um, Fiona, what's wrong?" asked Rachel. Suddenly, Fiona took her by the hand, and started quickly moving up the mountain, trying her best not to slip and fall.

"We need to move," Fiona spoke, clearly distressed. "I just remembered: AJ said there was a two mile radius to her readings. The other girls could be anywhere in this storm."

Fiona tried to look up the mountain again, but the wind continued to blow snow right in her face, and she could only make out a field of white. She was starting to get scared. It was already getting rather dark; the chances of finding the others were incredibly slim. What if they had already encountered the Korbalovs? What if they had been lost out on the icy tundra? On top of all of this, there was also the fact that Rachel, a blind person, was out with her in the storm. What were they going to do? Trying her best to hide her despair, Fiona turned back towards Rachel, who appeared very confused.

"Rachel, we're going to have to move fast," Fiona stated. "We need to find everyone before it gets too- OOF!"

Fiona, without any warning, suddenly felt something heavy slam into her legs. The result sent both Fiona and Rachel flying, and before they knew it, they had tumbled down several yards of snow, and landed with a heavy thud. There were many groans of pain, and Fiona slowly lifted her head out of the snow.

And, much to her immense delight, was immediately met with the very confused and very concerned gaze of one Tara Sullivan.

"TARA!" Fiona shouted at once, and before Tara had even risen to her feet, she was already in a tight hug.

"Fiona?" Tara said, completely baffled. "What are you doing here?"

"Tara?" Rachel suddenly spoke up. Tara took one look at her, and suddenly became very frustrated. She broke off the hug with Fiona, who seemed somewhat hurt by the action, and promptly proclaimed,

"You brought Rachel here!?" Tara shouted at her. "What the… why!?"

"Tara, I know you're upset, but-" Fiona couldn't explain fast enough, before Tara snapped again.

"Didn't you listen to anything I told you!?" Tara said. "We can't bring her on this mission!"

By this time, the other three girls, who had also tumbled down the mountain, rose out of the snow groggily, and took notice of the additional presences. Pinky felt like one of her legs had been wounded in the fall, and she took the leg in her arms tenderly.

"Tara, you didn't hear what I did," Fiona stated. "I couldn't just leave her behind."

"But you can't just-" Tara attempted to argue, but this time, Rachel joined with Fiona. She crossed her arms, and with an expression of aggravation, argued for her own sake.

"Tara, I appreciate your excessive attempts of righteousness," Rachel said. "But your belligerent ineptitude has done nothing here but dampen your efforts. You cannot expect me to surrender my conviction on this disability and concede from this faction as if I were suffering from the bubonic plague. I refuse to lay down and contribute absolutely nothing to this mission. I'm not leaving, and if you try to make me take respite, I will not halt until you can comprehend that my assistance and abilities are completely required to make this group function properly, as everyone else already has. Deal with it."

If Rachel could see, she would only see the most utterly confused, unknowing, unmistakable expressions of shock among her friends' faces, and five separate jaws gaping open.

"What… what the fuck did she just say?" Dash leaned over and asked AJ, who was standing next to her, and was equally as confused.

"She lost me at 'excessive'," AJ replied honestly.

"Rachel, what the fuck are you talking about?" Dash finally asked her.

"Long story short: I'm smart, I'm staying, and we're taking out the Korbalovs," Rachel said rather bluntly.

"So that's why you're here?" a deep voice suddenly said from above. The girls were instantly broken out of their shock, and with absolute horror, noticed that Kristov Korbalov was standing above them on the mountainside, staring at them with a tilted head. "You're here to kill us?"

"Kristov, wait," AJ begged him. "We're not here to kill you."

"That's what she just said," Kristov stated simply, nodding his head towards Rachel, who was seething with rage at the sound of his voice.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about," Tara claimed, sternly glaring at Rachel. Just at this moment, Tara noticed that Kristov seemed to be missing his other half. "Where's Yuri?" she asked. She had plenty of experience with the younger Russian, particularly how he shattered her ribcage and reopened her liver.

"He's out," Kristov said. He seemed to be just as bored as ever. "He always goes out for the day, and then comes back whenever he feels like it. I don't really care."

"Kristov, listen to us for a moment," AJ pleaded. She knew Kristov to be far more sensible than his brother, and had been thinking of a plan to, hopefully, get what they wanted. "We just came here to get back General Wilson. We don't want anyone to get harmed here."

Kristov groaned.

"Ugh," he said. "That's complicated. Yuri has been having a wonderful time making that man feel pain. Three months of nothing but screaming and moaning, and the whole place smells of blood; it's getting on my nerves."

"So he's here?" Dash confirmed. Kristov nodded.

"Where else would he be?" Kristov said. "Look, you girls aren't our contract right now, so I have no reason to kill you. That doesn't mean you can just break into our home and take what you want."

"Kristov, I know you're reasonable," AJ said. "Far more than your brother. You don't want Wilson to suffer anymore; you're not that kind of person. We just want our General back. We can make something work out here."

Kristov contemplated the suggestion. If he were to let the girls take away Wilson, then he wouldn't have to deal with the torturing anymore. They would simply take him away, everything would go back to normal, and they could resume taking contracts once again (which Yuri had suggested they stop because of "other worries"). However, Yuri would be incredibly furious. He supposed that he could make up some excuse, but there still seemed to be a lot of concerns. Still, the stench and blood was sickening, and that concerned him even more. After a few seconds though, he made up his mind on.

"Fine, take him," Kristov said bluntly. As the girls smiled at their incredible luck, Kristov started walking towards a random pile of rocks jutting out of the mountainside. Without warning, Kristov picked up the rocks, and chucked it away, watching it shattering into fragments. Despite the snow and the darkening sky, if AJ looked closely enough, she could make out what appeared to be a large, black door built into the mountain. Kristov beckoned them towards them, and the six girls walked towards the doorway, with Rachel holding onto Fiona's arm for guidance.

"When we started living here," Kristov explained. "We had a series of chambers built into the mountains around our house. I can't go with you down there, but trust me, you'll find what you are looking for. Take the General, and then get back to where ever you came from. But know this: if Yuri happens to come back, and he finds out what you did, I can't help you from whatever he decides to do. And, if he tries to kill you, and you try to fight back, I will side with him. He is my brother. So don't take too long."

With that ominous warning, Kristov sighed, and started to walk back to his house. With a shrug and a bit of bravery, the girls entered down into the mountain. Everything was dark and damp, and AJ needed to pull out a flashlight to see anything at all. The only thing they could see were black corridors that appeared to be endless, with the occasional door showing up on the left. With a great amount of caution, the P.O.N.Y's moved forward. They passed by the occasional room filled with random items, such as meat or machinery, but aside from that, everything looked the same. As the girls walked, Fiona, who was walking at the back of the group, started small talk with Rachel.

"Where did that come from?" Fiona asked in amazement. Rachel smirked.

"Well, in sixth grade," Rachel said. "One week, I felt incredibly bored. So, I decided to take a look through several alternate versions of dictionaries to see their many differences. Don't worry, I only resort to using an obscenely large vocabulary when I need to make a point."

"Yeah, about that," Dash suddenly said. "What the holy fuck happened to you? I thought you were a fashion designer. Isn't Tara supposed to be the obnoxiously smart one?"

"Hey, I'm right here," Tara said, offended. "But Rachel, you mean you've had the brain power of a savant this entire time, and you just pretended you didn't?"

"It wasn't that hard," Rachel said. "And I, by no means, meant to undermine your intelligence, Tara. You are really a bright person."

"Compliments aren't going to change the fact that you shouldn't be here," Tara said angrily.

"Hey girls, can we chat about this another time?" AJ said, straining her ears. "I think I hear something."

The girls quieted themselves, and, sure enough, they hear something. It was very faint, but it almost sounded like a groan. Their pace quickened, and they followed the sounds for what seemed like miles. They passed by three more rooms, each being completely useless to their goals. As they progressed, the noise grew louder and louder, until it was certainly the groans of someone in pain. At long last, they finally found the source of the noise, and arrived in front of a closed door to another room. The girls glanced nervously at each other, and with caution, Tara placed her hand on the door.

"Okay, we know what to do," Tara said. "Grab him and run. Are you ready?"

The girls nodded.

Then, taking a deep breath, Tara flung open the door, looked inside, and immediately recoiled in horror.

The room was lit enough so that the flashlight was not required, although AJ felt too sickened to put it away. The room smelled of all sorts of bodily fluids, and was stained with blood. However, the main attraction was dangling from several chains in the center of the room, like a gruesome piñata. It was undoubtedly Anthony Wilson, but that was only because the girls knew he would be present; the body barely resembled a person at all. All four limbs had been removed, and the wounds had become badly infected. Across his bare chest, there were multiple carvings, including two stick figures crudely murdering each other, and several swear words written in Russian text. Yet it was the face that was most terrible to look at. The eyes and mouth had been stitched shut, and the ears were chopped off and replaced with bandages. All that could be heard were the occasional pained, throaty groans, which made the girls feel worst of all, as they knew he was still alive. No one wanted to enter, yet they couldn't help themselves, as they gathered in the room around Wilson.

"Oh my god," was all Tara could say, feeling her eyes welling up. AJ, who had known the General for most of her life, couldn't bare the sight, and walked to the corner of the room, placing her head against the wall, and feeling nothing at all. Pinky kept her hands covering her mouth, and Dash started to poke Wilson with a disgusted look on her face, trying to see if she could get a response. Fiona had turned around, and was now hugging Rachel very tightly, so that her face was buried in her friend's hair. Rachel could only smell the putrid scents in the room, but this alone was enough to fill her full of hate, for the smell painfully reminded her of the torture room from three months earlier.

"What… what are we supposed to do with him?" Dash asked, backing away from the body. "I mean, we can't just drag him out of here. Man, can he even fucking hear us?"

"He probably doesn't even know we're here at all," AJ said, not looking away from the wall. "I…I don't think we can bring him."

"Then what was the point of coming here?" Rachel demanded to know. "We cannot just walk away with nothing."

"He's suffering," AJ said, rather pained. "We need to… put him out of his misery."

"AJ's right," Tara spoke up. She could feel tears running down her face; the situation was just too much for her. They had spent three months looking for this man, only to find that was within twenty miles the whole time, and now that they finally found him, he was nothing more than a bloody mass of flesh, which needed to die. It seemed as if fate had played a nasty trick on them all; to bring them up so high, only to crash the, back down. Still, what needed to be done had to get done, and with sorrow in her eyes, Tara turned to AJ.

"AJ, you knew him the longest," Tara stated. "Maybe you should do it."

"Nah," AJ said. "I… I don't think I'd be able to do it. You're the leader, Tara. It should probably be you." Yet Tara shook her head as well.

"I'm not sure," Tara said. However, at this moment, Dash pulled out her gun with a shrug.

"I'll do it," Dash stated, pointing the gun at Wilson's deformed head. "Best to just get it over with." However, before Dash pulled the trigger, Tara stopped her.

"That's not necessary, Dash," Tara said, reaching behind her. With one swift motion, she unsheathed the sword from her back. "He was a good man, and he needs to die with honor. I'll do it."

Dash shrugged once more, and stepped aside. Tara walked up to Wilson, and stared at him. She could only wonder if knew what was going on or not, and she wasn't sure which she preferred. However, wiping the tears from her eyes, she pulled back the blade, and prepared to strike it forward. She could feel her hands shaking; the room was entirely still. All Tara could do was repeat a mantra in her head, which she had learned long ago.

Beauty in death. Beauty in death. Beauty in death.

Tara closed her eyes, and, with only sadness in her heart, thrust the blade forward. She heard the sound of the sword penetrating through his chest, then a small gurgling sound, and then nothing. With a pained grunt, Tara ripped the sword out of the body, dropped it to the ground, sank to her knees, and immediately started to cry.

Fiona, who had previously clung to Rachel, forgot about the horrific environment around her, and rushed over to comfort her friend. She wrapped her arms around Tara's back, and held her tightly, whispering to her. Pinky soon joined in, and sat next to the crying girl. Rachel bowed her head to the ground in sadness. AJ felt herself starting to tear up, but stopped herself doing so. Dash groaned, and sadly shook her head at Tara's display. Eventually, though, Tara pulled her head up, and although her voice was heavy, it sounded surprisingly stable.

"Come on," she said plainly. "Let's go home."

"I severely doubt that."

Everyone froze. The voice was horribly familiar, and it was one that they all recognized in an instant. In sheer terror, their gazes slowly shifted towards the doorway, where there was now a large silhouette blocking the doorway. It was with a terrible realization that they saw Yuri Korbalov leaning against the door frame, a eerily calm look on his face, and tossing a ball up in the air before catching it in his large hands. He looked exactly the same as the last time they saw him, which is to say that he had not gotten any less rugged and gruff over the past three months. However, what was of interest was the object that he was tossing. It was spherical in shape, but was unlike any ball that any of the girls had ever seen. It was silver and metallic, and had a split right down its center. Along the split on either side were one-inch tall nodes, which were hollowed out, and black in the center. The object had several different buttons on it as well, and although the object was no larger than a basketball, it seemed to be very heavy.

"Now, imagine my surprise when I'm walking back home, and I see that one of our mountain chambers has been left wide open," Yuri said, not appearing to be the least bit mad. "When I get down here, I find out that not only has it been broken into, but it's by the same six bitches that had led us straight to our most prized possession. By the way, I never got to thank you for that; real helpful."

He motioned to Rachel, and she could barely hold herself back from launching herself directly at him. Yuri continued on.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken," Yuri stated. "Since Wilson is now dead, the contract placed on you has been, well, renewed, so to speak. And I think to myself, 'how am I going to make these bitches suffer for ruining everything? That is the arrangement, after all'. But then I remembered I had this little beauty."

Yuri gestured to the object in his hands.

"I always keep this close at hand," Yuri said fondly. "After all, it took so long to get it. If I remember correctly, they said that this could have the potential to cause massive suffering. I've yet to experience that for myself, but hey, what are you going to do about that?"

Suddenly, Yuri pressed several of the buttons on the object in rapid succession, and the machine suddenly whirred to life in his hands. The split now opened up, and it revealed an inner sphere, which started to glow. The nodes on the sides now started to glow a bright green, and Yuri quickly tossed the machine in the center of the room, and then slammed the door shut.

"THIS IS FOR SCREWING ME OVER, YOU ROTTEN AMERICAN MOTHERFUCKERS!"

The two halves on the machine now started to rotate in opposite directions, and the whirring became incredibly loud. In a panic, the girls tried to back away from the center of the room, but the chamber was too small to gain any actual distance. AJ ran to the door to try and get it open, but she found that it was suddenly locked. The whirring was terribly loud now, so much so that the girls couldn't hear themselves think. All they could hope to do was cling to the walls, and prey for the best. The lights from the machine filled up the room, casting everything in a brilliant green light.

Then with a long, loud, terrible drone, the machine went off with such tremendous force to push the girls back against the walls, and they were instantly met with the most intense pain any of them had ever experienced.

After that, everything just faded into white.

__________

AJ was viciously knocked to the ground; her hat skidded across the floor. She was panting heavily, and struggled to rise to her feet. She tasted blood, and wiped some of the substance from her lips. Mac shook his head.

"C'mon, AJ," he said for the fourth time that day. "What did I tell you about rushin' to the offensive?"

"It's a fool's way to die," AJ repeated, her voice strained. She walked over to her hat, and very slowly, picked it up.

"And what did I tell you about the hat?" Mac said with a groan.

"What about it?" she asked, annoyed.

"In the heat of battle, an enemy aint gonna wait for you to put ya hat back on before he puts a bullet in your skull," Mac stated plainly. AJ scoffed.

"But yer gonna wait," AJ said slyly. "You're all gentleman like, and you would wait for a lovely teenage girl like me."

"Yer not a teen!" Mac proclaimed.

"Yes, I am!"

"Thirteen aint a teenage year!"

"Yes it is! Thir-teen. It's in the goddamn title!"

"You aint mature, though."

"I'm plenty mature," AJ said, suddenly motioning to her body. "Look: tits and hips and everything. I'm blossoming like a cherry tree."

"Oh, you're mature now, aint ya?" Mac said, crossing his arms, a smile on his face. "Then how 'bout ya run over and get some of that cola Celestia keeps in the fridge?"

"Fuck you," AJ replied. However, she was awfully thirsty, and reluctantly walked out of the training room, and into the recreation area next-door. On her way out, she walked by a very stern Bridgette Celestia, and gave her a tip of her hat. Celestia mostly ignored her, however, and walked up to Mac, who had taken a seat on the floor.

"Clive, we need to talk," Celestia said.

"Can we wait until AJ gets back with the drinks?" Mac said with a smile. "I'm parched as hell."

"This is regarding her, but we don't need her input," Celestia stated. "Now tell me: why didn't you tell her about the Colorado assignment?"

"I'll tell her about that when the time comes," Mac said.

"You're leaving in six hours," Celestia said.

"Well…" Mac couldn't come up with a proper explanation. "I was enjoying the training."

"Yes, about that," Celestia said. "You still refuse to send her on any assignments."

"She's not grown yet," Mac claimed.

"She just told you to go fuck yourself," Celestia said bluntly.

"Those weren't her words," Mac said, annoyed. "Besides, she aint trained enough yet for any actual assignments."

"Clive, we both know what you agreed to when you brought her here," Celestia said. "Besides, she's yearning to go out there. You hear her every day. Just give her this one thing." Mac couldn't help but feel somber.

"Yeah, I know," he said reluctantly. "I… I just wish I got to spend more time with her. It's bad enough with me goin' out every few months, but if she goes out too, that'll really limit everything."

"Trust me, Clive," Celestia said. "I think she spends plenty of time with you."

"What makes you say that?" Mac asked. Celestia couldn't help but smile.

"Have you been listening to her at all for the past eight years?" Celestia asked. "She's from Illinois, and she has a southern drawl. If that's not proof enough, I don't know what is."

Mac thought about this for a moment, and then grinned to himself. And from the other side of the door, eavesdropping on the whole conversation, AJ grinned to herself as well.

__________

"AJ, WAKE UP! DEAR GOD, PLEASE WAKE UP!"

AJ's eyes shot open. Everything around her looked fuzzy. She could hardly remember anything except severe pain, and the color white. She couldn't see her surroundings very well, but she could feel herself being shaken, and recognized Tara's voice.

"Oh thank God, you're alright!" Tara shouted, immensely relieved. She could hear the groans and moans of everyone else in the room, but AJ had remained silent. But now her fears were quelled, as she tried to get AJ to focus on her. AJ blinked several times to try to get a clear image of her friend.

"Tara, stop shaking me," AJ ordered. Her vision was returning. "I'm alright. Just le- HOLY SHIT!"

AJ eye's finally adjusted, and she could clearly see Tara. However, her friend looked different. It was if it was both her and not her at the same time. The basics were still there; the same face, the same hair, the same lips. But her eyes were different; not in shape, but in color. Tara's simple brown eyes were now glowing a deep, vibrant color, that of which AJ had never seen in eyes before; they were violet, just a shade lighter than Rachel's hair. The cascading glow seemed to illuminate Tara's face, in a manner that eerily reminded AJ of The Beast. Tara had taken off her suit by this point, and she was now wearing almost nothing but shorts and a T-shirt. Now that AJ could see more of her, she could see that her skin was different. Tara appeared slightly paler than she was before, and, most terrifyingly, several of the veins on her arms, legs, and face were now glowing with the same deep violet that was in her eyes, and they seemed to stick out in tone from the rest of the skin.

"AJ, what's wrong?" Tara asked, seemingly unaware of her new appearance.

"Tara, ya might wanna take a look at yourself," AJ said. Tara looked incredibly confused, before her gaze traveled down to her arms, and her eyes went wide.

"Wha… I… what did…" Tara said, utterly speechless. She rose to her feet, and couldn't break her gaze from her arms. All around her, the others started to recover themselves.

"Holy fuck, that was painful," Dash stated bluntly. "What the hell was- Spark, what the fuck happened to you!?"

"Ugh, my head," Pinky said as she rose to her feet. She was clutching her head tightly, and was doubled over. "Man, this really hurts; even more than my leg right now."

"Pinky, take a look at Spark over here," Dash said, not showing any concern for how Tara might be feeling. In fact, she appeared rather amused with the whole thing. "Jesus Christ, you look kinda badass, actually."

"This isn't funny, Rebecca," Tara said, incredibly concerned. "What the hell happened to me?"

"I… I think I might have an idea," AJ said, now rising to her feet. With a great amount of caution, she walked over to the spherical device in the center of the room, which had now become silent. AJ took the object in her hands, and examined it. Then, with sudden realization, she stated.

"I think this is a MACER Device," AJ proclaimed.

"Really?" Tara said, now both amazed and concerned.

"What else could it be?" AJ stated. "I've been in this field for thirteen years, and I aint never seen a bomb do something like that."

"Wait… if that thing's a MACER Device," Dash said, slowly realizing what was going on. "Does that mean we all have superpowers now?"

"It doesn't give people superpowers," Tara said. "It alters DNA."

"And gives people superpowers," Dash said, not understanding Tara's point. "Don't you guys know what this means? We all got exposed to that thing."

Suddenly, Tara realized that Dash was half-right about something. They were all exposed to the device, yet only four of them seemed to be alright. Tara quickly looked towards the other side of the room, where Rachel and Fiona were unmoving.

Rachel appeared to be semi-conscious, having moved herself into the corner of the room, and now sitting upright. She was trying her best to focus her thoughts, but everything kept distracting her. She could hear the others talking, but she felt too weak to say anything. However, what were most distracting were the colors. Every few seconds, it seemed like small bursts of different colors would randomly appear in her vision, which was now, strangely, a sea of black. She noticed that the different colors seemed to be coming from the places in which the voices were coming from, but she was in such a daze that she made nothing of it.

Fiona was much worse. She was lying on the ground, facing the wall. She was awake, but she couldn't say anything; it all simply hurt too much. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was turning pale, as if she had contracted a grave illness. Her body kept shivering, yet she felt incredibly hot, and she could not explain why.

Tara, Dash and AJ quickly ran over to help their friends, while Pinky tried her best to settle out the pain in her head, and simultaneously fix the brace on her left leg, which, with the combined fall own the mountain and blast from the device, had broken. They managed to get the two girls standing, although Rachel needed to rest against the wall, and Fiona kept falling over.

"Damn, they're not looking too well," Tara said. She gestured to AJ to help her get Fiona back up. However, as she and AJ struggled to lift Fiona again, Dash suddenly noticed movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Uh, Spark," Dash said in astonishment. "Can you move your arm again?"

"What?" Tara asked, trying to keep Fiona on her feet.

"Just move your fucking arm again, will ya?" Dash said. Confused, Tara waved her right arm back and forth, which unfortunately meant that all of Fiona's weight fell down upon AJ.

"What's the point, Dash?" Tara asked. Dash simply pointed towards the door.

"I… uh…" Dash said. "I think I just figured out what your superpower is."

Tara glanced over, and saw something incredible. The door, which had previously been locked, was now floating in midair, and hovering in the same spot. Tara moved her arm to the right, and to her amazement, the door followed suit.

"Oh my god," Tara said in disbelief. "Oh… my… god… Am I doing that?"

"Sweet, Spark's got freaking telekinesis, or some crazy shit like that," Dash said happily. "I wonder what I got? I'm really fucking hoping for super speed…"

"Dash, now's not the time for-" Tara started to scold her, but suddenly, the door dropped to the ground with a loud clang, and startled everyone in the room. Tara waved her arm about, but nothing else moved. She also noticed that the violet glow had disappeared from her skin, and her eyes were brown once more.

"Tara, I think we should focus on getting out of here," AJ suddenly spoke up. Tara nodded. They had wasted far too much time as it was. Pinky could barely walk, Rachel was terribly dazed, and Fiona looked like she would drop dead at any moment. There was very little time to waste.

"Okay, let's move," Tara said. Pinky hobbled over on one leg, and picked up Fiona, so that they might support each other. Tara took Rachel's had, and together, the six girls had reentered the labyrinth of chambers beneath the mountains. Yuri had long since vanished, and the last thing they wanted was to see him again. However, finding their way out proved to be rather difficult. Everything looked the same, and it was a tiring process of carrying the wounded.

"Why is so hot in here?" Fiona suddenly asked. Pinky, who was suffering a horrific headache, was confused.

"I thought it was like, seven degrees out, or something," Pinky said.

"So hot, so hot," Fiona said. Without fully realizing what she was doing, Fiona had started to unzip her thermodynamic suit, and had begun to strip in the middle of the base.

"Fiona, what are you doing?" Tara looked at the back of the group, where Pinky and Fiona were falling behind. However, Fiona never got to answer that question, as without warning, she fell back to the ground. Pinky bent over to pick her up, but Fiona suddenly started to scream. Fiona's yells were bloodcurdling, and everyone stopped dead in their tracks to stare back at her in horror.

"Fiona, what's wrong?" Tara asked her.

"Oh god, help me!" Fiona started to shout. "It hurts! It hurts! Get it out of me!"

Fiona began to bleed from the nose, and everyone rushed around her. Any time physical contact was made, she would scream even more. She was on her hands and knees; her forehead pressed to the ground as her eyes welled up with tears.

"Someone get it out of me!" Fiona begged. "Please, just get it out!"

Suddenly, Fiona let out a pained gasp, and began to tremble erratically. She cried out again, and then the others began to notice something on Fiona's back. The thermodynamic suit was nearly skin-tight, and so it gave the others quite a scare when they saw something moving underneath the suit. Two thick objects appeared to slide down Fiona's back, and the girls realized that the objects were actually present underneath Fiona's skin. They watched as Fiona cried out again, and then suddenly, the two objects pushed outwards. Then they pushed again, this time harder.

On the third try, the objects had suddenly sprung forth from underneath the suit, and burst out of Fiona's back. It didn't take long for anyone to realize what the objects were: wings. Two large, light blue wings had ruptured from Fiona's back, breaking through her skin, and causing blood to splatter on the floor. They were unlike any wings that they had ever seen before; the wings did not appear to be feathery, like that of a bird, but rather made of light and energy itself. The wings glowed brightly, and did not drip with any of the blood coming out of Fiona. The wingspan was so large that it was, in fact, taller than the actual girl they were attached to. The wings, despite their stunning beauty, did not in any way seem magnificent. Fiona was heavily in tears, and the girls could see two wide, bloody slits across the length of Fiona's back where the wings emerged. Suddenly, Fiona coughed up a hefty dose of blood, and then passed out on the floor, leaving the girls to wonder at what had just happen before them.

"Uh…" was the only expression Dash could utter from her lips. She was less terrified than the rest of the girls, and thus thought slightly more clearly. "Did she just become, like, part bird or something?"

"You know what?" Tara said. "I don't know. I really don't know. We can think about this later. Right now, we still need to get out of here."

"Right," Pinky said. She tried to pick up Fiona, but found that she was completely unconscious. The wings had now wrapped tightly around Fiona to keep her warm, and Pinky could not get her up.

"Maybe you girls should go on ahead," Pinky suggested, taking a gun out of her suit. "I'll stay here and watch over her. We'll find our way out later."

Tara felt as if she should argue, but realized that the options she had couldn't have much help with what she had just witnessed.

"Okay, take care of her," Tara ordered, and started to walk down the hallway. Pinky nodded, and the others reluctantly followed Tara down the corridors.

Okay, maybe I don't want superpowers after all, Dash thought to herself as they made their way through the darkness.

However, within minutes, they saw light ahead. With increased speed, the four girls moved towards the light with hope. Unfortunately, once they got closer, their hopes diminished, and Tara quickly gave an order to slow down and stay quiet. The girls did so, and now quietly walked towards the light with caution.

The light, as it turned out, was of the Korbalovs' house. The entire house had a wooden frame, although the majority of walls were made out of glass, allowing people to view the mountains from almost any angle in the house. The house contained two main segments: the living room, and the balcony. The living room had very basic needs, such as two couches, a chair, and a flat screen television, complete with satellite hookup. The balcony was located a few feet above the living room, and there were short sets of stairs on either side for easy access. The balcony had a railing to look over unto the living room, and aside from that, there was very little for it to offer, except for a large opening in the wall, leading into the caverns beneath the mountain.

Sadly for the girls, the Korbalovs just happened to be standing on the balcony twenty feet away, looking over to the living room, and having a meaningful discussion.

"Why expose them to the machine?" Kristov asked, annoyed.

"Because I want them to suffer," Yuri said. "That machine can turn people into hideous monsters. I've seen it."

"But it can also turn them into people like us," Kristov claimed. "What if the machine gave them abilities?"

"Kristov, you forget about something," Yuri said with a smirk. "No one can kill us. If they get diseased, they die, and that's that. If they live, we might finally get to have a good fight on our hands. Besides, what harm could they really do?"

Meanwhile, Tara whispered orders to the others.

"We'll need to find another way around," Tara said. However, Rachel disagreed.

"No," she said. "This is our chance to fight back. We can kill them right now."

"Rachel, we can't-"

"Tara, we may never get another opportunity," Rachel said. "Now that Wilson's gone, they'll hunt us. We need to kill them now before they attack us again."

Tara wanted to argue, but deep down, she knew that Rachel was right. The Brothers of Chaos would eventually eliminate them one by one until they were all gone. She knew that she could deliver a quick kill on at least one of them now with her sword, and now, it was the time to finally strike back for everything they had done.

With a reluctant sigh, Tara took hold of her sword, and ordered the girls to stay put. Tara stayed close to the floor, and took slow, quiet steps towards the Korbalovs. She targeted Yuri first, and within seconds, she was less than ten feet away. She knew how dense the bone was, so she readied her sword to strike directly through Yuri's heart. She was now standing right behind him, and neither he nor his brother had noticed she was there. She gradually rose up to her feet, and drew back her sword.

Smack

Yuri quickly turned around and backhanded Tara across the face, sending her flying back towards the others. She recovered as fast as she could, and gave the orders to attack.

AJ leapt out first, and much to Yuri's surprise, tackled over the edge of the balcony, where they landed on the floor with a thud. They quickly rose to their feet, and started to fight. AJ ran over to the couch, and kept it between her and the Russian, hoping to gain distance. However, he sucked beneath the couch, picked it up, and threw it back at AJ. She rolled out of the way, but quickly found herself dodging a series of mad punches. She bobbed and weaved, but never sought to attack. Instead, she focused on gaining as much distance as possible, and once the opportunity presented itself, she ducked away, and ran to the other side of the room.

Dash and Tara were, instead, trying to overwhelm Kristov with great force. Tara slashed rapidly with her sword, while Dash tried to draw his attention away. Occasionally, this had an effect, as he had been too busy trying to hit Dash to guard himself from a swing of the sword. However, these only resulted in cuts and flesh wounds, which seemed to affect Kristov very little. He stayed defensive, and never let out a single punch, opting to take his time in the fight.

However, the most interesting development by far was happening with Rachel. She was experiencing a very strange sensation. She constantly saw flashes of different colors around her; reds danced about with blues, and the greens and yellows popped in and out of her sight. She was terribly nervous at the sound of her friends fighting, and the color only seemed to accentuate her fears. Here she was being useless once again; she felt ashamed. This was her final chance to prove her worth, and she was hiding in the corner like a coward. She wanted only to lunge out at the Korbalovs; make them finally pay for everything. Her breathing became eccentric, her heart rate increased, and the colors started to dance around more and more. But they weren't just flashes of colors anymore; they were starting to take on shape, and began to resemble the actual movements of people. And, was it just her, or did these colors now look almost like people?

Things had taken a turn for the worse for the girls on the balcony, however. Tara took a horizontal swipe with her sword, but Kristov decided that it was finally time to attack. He grabbed onto the sword, much to Tara's surprise, and used it to fling Tara down one of the flights of steps. Dash tried to charge at him, but he took hold of her arms, and flung her back into the dark hallway.

This was when Kristov noticed Rachel's presence.

He briefly stared at her, completely motionless. However, this time, he wasn't curious, and he knew what he had to do. It wasn't as if he could keep any of the girls alive now that they had come after him and his brother. So, with barely any regret, he ran straight at Rachel, and shot out a fist directly at her head.

She dodged.

Rachel didn't see the attack coming, and she didn't have enough time to react to his footsteps. But it was the strangest thing: she saw a bright red shape move at her quickly, and it looked like a person throwing a punch. Everything just seemed to slow down from there. She saw not just the fist in motion, but it was as if she could see where it was going to land. Rachel couldn't explain it, but she acted as if it were a reflex; rolling underneath Kristov's arm, and instantly hopping to her feet behind him.

Kristov seemed momentarily confused, but quickly charged at her again. He launched out another punch, but the colors not only told Rachel that something was trying to hit her, but she suddenly saw a bright green color flash on her collarbone, as if it were the specific target. She sidestepped the blow easily. Then another. And then another. Rachel was incredibly confused; the vast display of flashing colors, change in time, and her own movements were too much for her to comprehend, and she really didn't understand any of it.

"How are you doing this?' Kristov couldn't help but ask, throwing out another punch, which was ducked. "You can't see, and you're dodging everything. What did the machine do to-"

"Hey, leave the blind girl alone!" Dash suddenly shouted, rising to her feet. "Pick on someone who's sucked less than five hundred dicks in her life!"

Kristov, while confused by the expression, changed targets rather quickly. Rachel backed herself up against the wall to sort out her thoughts, while Dash was forced to dodge attacks. She did fairly well for herself, but unfortunately, she wasn't nearly as efficient as Rachel had been. Dash barely lasted a minute before she made the deadly mistake of trying to land a punch of her own. She briefly saw an opening when she dodged a kick, and took the chance to punch Kristov square in the jaw. The blow connected, and Dash immediately recoiled, clutching her fist in agony.

"Son of a bitch, that hurts!" Dash complained. Unfortunately, she was busy to notice that Kristov had thrown a punch right towards her head, and she barely registered the action before fist was mere centimeters from her face.

Whoosh

There was a blur, and suddenly, Dash found herself leaning back, narrowly avoiding the blow. She stared wide-eyed at the fist, which was dangerously close to her head. Kristov brought around his other fist, and barely registered it before it was about to strike her chest.

Whoosh

Now, Dash found herself behind Kristov. She was confused, but only for a moment, as it soon became replaced with excitement.

"Oh my god, is this really happening?" she asked herself, unable to contain her joy. Kristov tried attacking her several more times, but each time, his fist only connected with a blur, while Dash had already moved away. She dodged a kick, and gained several feet of distance.

"Superspeed! Alright!" Dash shouted gleefully to the sky. "There is a God after all! Sorry for the atheism, Big G! I'll have to-… WHOA!"

Dash did not celebrate long; Kristov had charged his fist, and slammed it into the floor. The resulting shockwave sent Dash flying over the railing, and crashing down onto AJ below.

While the others were fighting Kristov, AJ was having more of a dance with Yuri. She never got close enough for him to hit her, and he kept circling about, trying to get past the furniture that she kept in-between them. After a while, the stalemate had bored Yuri, and he actually started small talk in order to pass the time.

"So… how old are you exactly?" Yuri asked. "You don't look that old."

"Why would I ever talk to you about something like that?" AJ sneered. "We're trying to kill each other."

"By paid contract," Yuri said. "Using the machine was because you killed Wilson. Now, this is just because you reinstated the price on your head. I don't hate you; it's just business."

"You sure have a sick idea of 'just business'," AJ said.

"Whatever you say," Yuri said, glancing upwards. "Oh, and look out for your friend."

"Wha-"

Thud

Dash collided with AJ, knocking the two girls to the ground. They both groaned, as Yuri started to make his way towards them.

"Hey AJ," Dash said, not the least bit worried. "Look what I can do."

Whoosh

Suddenly, Dash was now sitting on one of the couches, her legs crossed, and her arms stretched out on the furniture.

"Holy shit, I think I can get used to this," Dash sad, watching AJ hop to her feet. "Hey, how come you're not using your superpower?"

"We don't have superpowers!" AJ shouted at her, trying to back away from Yuri. "Also, ya wanna help out here!?"

"Nah, I think you're good," Dash said with a smirk.

"This isn't a game, Dash!" AJ yelled. However, she soon noticed that Yuri was now through with any regards to humanity, and charged forward at her. She rolled out of one attack, but Yuri countered by grabbing onto her left leg. He lifted in the air, and prepared to bring his elbow down on it. However, AJ had prepared for such an occasion. She balanced herself on her other leg, and without warning, swung her body around, kicking Yuri in the face, and forcing him to release her leg from captivity,

On the balcony, Kristov was now fighting Tara, who had recovered. Rachel sat against the wall, watching a green swordsman fight off against a large red giant. Tara did not last long without assistance, unfortunately. She was recovering from dodging a kick when Kristov lunged forward and grabbed onto her throat. She suddenly found herself being choked. She was lifted in the air, and dangled several inches above the ground. Rachel could hear what was going on, but she was too busy trying to settle out the colors to do anything. Dash and AJ were too busy with Yuri to do anything.

And suddenly, Tara realized that she was about to die. She couldn't see clearly, as her eyes started to water. Her resistance became less and less effective, and she found everything slowly fading to darkness. Her arms were growing limp, and the lack of oxygen was causing severe burning in her chest. Going to sleep seemed like a great thing to do, but Tara forced herself to stay awake. Yet she could feel everything slipping away, as if she were losing herself.

"GET YOUR HAND OFF OF HER, YOU BASTARD!"

Kristov never knew what hit him. From out of the darkness, something large flew out, and for half of a second, hovered just above Kristov's head. Then, he was hit with a brutal hit to the head, and was knocked through the balcony, and fortunately, onto his brother below. Tara was released from his grasp, and fell to the floor, coughing like mad. When she looked up, she was utterly startled.

"Fiona?" Tara said. The shy girl quickly knelt down, apologizing.

"Tara, are you alright? I'm sorry about saying that back there. I was in the moment, and I was mad, and it was really mean to say," Fiona talked very fast and Tara didn't understand any of it. To be honest, she wasn't even trying to.

"Fiona, did you just fly?" Tara asked her, very confused. Fiona looked rather nervous.

"Um, I think so," she said, looking back at the massive wings protruding from her back. "These things aren't going to be permanent, right? Because I don't know how I'm supposed to explain this t-"

However, without any given warning, the wings retracted themselves back into Fiona's back, and back beneath her skin. The process was not so much painful as it was uncomfortable, and the force of the wings reentering her body sent Fiona tumbling forward onto the floor.

"Well, that answers that question," Tara said, helping Fiona to her feet. The blood had mostly clotted, and Fiona looked much more like herself, albeit paler. However, her backside was still caked with the substance, and she occasionally sniffed loose blood back into her nose. "How do you feel? Can you fight?"

Fiona nodded. Tara picked up her sword, and the two girls both jumped down to the living room. The Brothers of Chaos had become untangled, and were now back to back, each facing two girls. The fight restarted, and it was an all-out brawl among the six fighters.

However, back upstairs, Pinky hobbled her way out through the darkness, and took a seat next to Rachel. Rachel was not surprised by the sudden arrival; an appropriately pink person had been seen walking up to her, and if Rachel focused closely enough, she thought it looked a little like Pinky herself.

"Hiya, Rachel!" Pinky said happily, despite being in a lot of pain.

"Hello, Pinky," Rachel greeted simply.

"Where are the others?"

"Fighting."

"Should I go help?"

"You can't walk."

"Should I shoot them?"

"They're bulletproof."

"Oh. Well then, how are we supposed to win?"

"I…" Rachel said, unsure to answer. "I don't know. The Korbalovs are impervious to pain. The girls have been studying them and training for months, and it seems to at least be helping them stay alive, but we both know what can go wrong. Technically speaking, as long as the girls have the strength to go on, this fight may take a while."

"Darn," Pinky said, getting annoyed. "Those guys are really starting to get on my nerves,"

"Yeah," Rachel said with discontent. "Those bloody ingrates really need to be dea-"

Rachel suddenly paused.

"Wait, Pinky, what did you say?"

"They're getting on my nerves."

"Yes! That!" Rachel shouted. "That's it! That's how we can beat them!"

Rachel suddenly jumped to her feet, and ran over to the ruins of the balcony, extremely excited.

"Tara!" Rachel called out. Tara, not looking away from the Korbalovs, responded.

"What!?" she asked, trying to keep focus.

"Do you remember the advanced study of the human nervous system from our class on biomedical engineering!?"

"I never took that class!" Tara said, disgruntled. Rachel groaned.

"If you can trigger enough stimuli to the upper membrane of the spinal cord," Rachel explained. "And simultaneously provide enough pressure to both the base of the medulla oblongata and the nerves at the base of the waist, you might be able to trigger a complete relapse of sensation for the entire nervous system!"

"What!?" Tara said, too busy fighting Kristov to register whatever Rachel was talking about.

"Screw this," Rachel muttered to herself, and suddenly jumped down into the fray. She charged towards Kristov at a surprisingly quick pace, and kept low to the ground. Kristov finally noticed her, and swung at her. However, with the extra adrenaline, everything around her became crystal clear. The colors had now fully taken the shapes of the others in the room, and it wasn't for the fact that everything was bursting with assorted colors of the rainbow, she would have sworn that she could actually see again.

Rachel dodged the fist with relative ease, and then did something rather odd. She wrapped her arm around his, and quickly spun around underneath his arm in order to get behind him. She quickly jumped in the air, pressing her knee tightly to the base of his spine, and hr other hand pushed forcefully to the back of his neck. The sudden movement and excess force knocked Kristov to the floor, and struggled to get up.

"Tara, sword. Now!" Rachel ordered. Suddenly, Tara understood what Rachel was getting at. She brought up her sword, and quickly ran over to Kristov, drawing back her blade. She could see exactly where Rachel had in mind for a target: a small space on Kristov's back, which would be just between the tops of his shoulder blades. Tara quickly lunged the blade forward, and sunk the blade into his flesh. It did not travel far, but it did not need to. Suddenly, Kristov let out a pained yell.

"AGAIN!" Rachel ordered. Tara pulled out the sword, and then drove it once more into Kristov's back, right into the same wound. He let out another pained scream, this time loud enough to attract the attention of his brother.

"Kristov?" Yuri called out, confused. He had never heard his brother be in pain before, and it started to concern him. Rachel told Tara to strike one more time, just for good measure.

Tara attacked thrice more.

At the end of it all, Rachel quickly hopped off of Kristov, and backed away. He looked around angrily, as the pain was incredibly intense. He did not, however, seem to be any less set on his goals, and started to rise to his feet. This was when the real pain set in, as every movement he made sent spikes shooting up his spine. He couldn't move, for the agony stopped him from the lightest twitch. He still tried to rise, but just couldn't find the strength. Tara was amazed.

"Rachel, what did we just do?" Tara asked.

"I told you: we kick started his nervous system," Rachel explained. "We didn't cause him any pain; we just triggered him to feel what was already there. He's now suffering the excruciating pain of living with ten times the muscle and bone density of the average human male."

"Oh shit," Yuri muttered to himself, now focused on his brother. He suddenly realized that he was outnumbered, and had no desire to feel that kind of torment that his brother was going through. Yuri, without hesitation, bolted, trying to make it past the crippled Kristov. Unfortunately for him, Dash had followed on with Rachel's plan, and before he knew it, she had already appeared on his back, with one hand on his neck, and one knee in his spine.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going!?" Dash yelled at him, as the pressure forced him into the ground. Tara ran over to him, and delivered six separate blows to his spine. Yuri began to shout louder and louder with each thrust, and soon, he was writhing in agony next to his brother.

"You cunts," Yuri spat out. He tried to stand but the pain was overwhelming, and he was forced to lie down on his stomach.

"Well, what do we do now?" Fiona asked. "We can't just leave them here."

"Actually, that's exactly what we're going to do," Rachel said coldly. "The effect should wear off eventually. We can't kill them, so we'll just let them suffer through it. It only seems fair."

"That…sounded kind of harsh, Rachel," Fiona said. "You shouldn't hold a grudge against what they did."

Rachel didn't say anything else.

"Come one, let's find a way out of here," Tara ordered. They began to walk away from the Korbalovs, who, unbeknownst to them, were having a conversation of their own.

"Leave it be," Kristov said. "It's over."

"Over?" Yuri said, annoyed. "Brother, we've never let a contract go before. That goes against our code."

"We should just call it off while we still draw breath," Kristov stated. However, as the girls started to walk away, Yuri began to rise to his feet; his frustration and anger overriding his sensation of pain, and giving him the will to continue the fight.

"We never die, remember?" Yuri said. Then, he suddenly charged at the girls. None of them knew what was coming.

But then, Tara heard the sounds of footsteps behind her. Her veins suddenly started to glow, and her eyes turned a deep shade of violet. She quickly turned around, and shot out both her arms, barely even realizing what she was doing. Yuri and Kristov were suddenly flung through the air with incredible force, breaking through one of the many glass walls, and landing outside in the frozen tundra. The snow had lightened to a light shower, and the sky had turned black; the only lights either came from within the house, or the moonlight reflecting off of the snow. The Korbalovs landed with a thud in the snow, and lay next to each other, barely able to move.

"Okay, you win!" Yuri shouted to the girls as loud as he could. "The contract is off! Just… just get out of here! Ugh…"

Tara lowered her arms, her skin returning to normal. She ignored the stares of the other girls, and proceeded to walk out into the snow. Rachel's sense of color faded away, and soon, she only saw the occasional flash of blue. However, Pinky made her way down the steps, and she and Rachel huddled together for support. AJ and Fiona gathered on either side of Tara, who was no longer wearing her suit, in order to keep her warm. Dash simply placed her hands behind her head, and walked at the back group very comfortably.

"See," she stated. "I told you fucks we had superpowers."

__________

"So, what did you see?" Tara asked, wrapped tightly in a blanket and sipping hot chocolate.

The girls had returned to Olympus, and were spending their night in half-celebration. Part of the time, they were in mourning for the loss of General Wilson. However, the most of the time, they were enjoying the fact that the Brothers of Chaos were officially taken care of, and figuring out the exact extent of their mutations.

"I can't describe it," Rachel said. "It was like a million different colors dancing in synchronization. You would just need to witness it yourself."

"Well, Fiona turned into a bird," Dash said. "So really, it's not so bad whatever you got."

"I'm not a bird," Fiona said, although rather softly and unsure.

"By the way, can you get those out again, Fiona?" Tara wondered, taking another sip of her beverage.

"I don't know," Fiona said. "But I guess I could try to get some practice with them. To be honest, it's kind of a creepy feeling; almost like having an extra set of limbs."

"You're lucky you even got something," Pinky complained, still holding her head with one hand, and munching on jerky with the other. "All my life I wanted cool abilities, like laser eyes, or super strength, or the ability to magically summon candy whenever I want. But all I have is a headache."

"And I got nothin' at all," AJ said, not entirely interested.

"I'm sure the machine had some effect on you two," Rachel said. "Just give it some time. Who knows, maybe Pinky's headaches are a sign that she's about to shoot candy out of her eyes."

"That would so cool," Pinky said. "High five!"

Rachel raised her hand, and Pinky slapped it triumphantly. Suddenly, she gasped and fell back onto the couch.

"Pinky, what's wrong?" Tara asked, concerned. Pinky shook her head several times to clear out her thoughts.

"Man, that was weird," Pinky said. "I just saw a bunch of flashes."

"Flashes?"

"Like still images, moving really quickly in my mind," Pinky said, clutching her forehead. "Didn't really have time to look at them. But I think I saw Rachel in them."

"That must have been caused by skin-on-skin contact," Tara hypothesized. "Do you know what they mean?"

"Nope," Pinky said, now suddenly cheery. "Actually, I think I'm going to go to sleep now."

"Wait for me, girl,' AJ said, rising up. Dash yawned as well, and two seconds later, the bedroom door was open, and she was already lying down.

"Well, I think I'm going to sleep as well," Tara said, getting up to stretch her legs.

"Wait, Tara," Rachel said, desperately wanting to know something. "I've just been wondering: what am I going to do? I mean, I'm technically now a superhuman. When I leave, are they going to send me back home, or use me for government testing, or… what?"

Tara sighed.

"Rachel," Tara began. "You know, this has been a rough day for all of us. We had so much go down, and now I don't know what will happen to any of us. I don't know how Celestia will react, how Cadence will react, or even how my family will react. For all I know, they're going to shut P.O.N.Y. down because of this. But Rachel, today you did so much. If it wasn't for you, we'd never stop the Korbalovs. I honestly don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that it certainly won't be the same without you there."

"So Rachel stays?" Fiona asked, suddenly very happy.

"Well, yeah," Tara said with a shrug. "Did you see what she did today? I thought that was pretty much obvious."

"Why thank you, Tara," Rachel said with an honest smile. Tara yawned once more.

"You're welcome," Tara said, walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Once the door was closed, Rachel started to walk to her bedroom. It had been a very long day, and the one thing she desperately wanted was to get a good night's sleep. She hadn't slept well in months, but she had a very good feeling that she was going to be met with good dreams on this night. However, before she reached the door, Fiona intercepted her.

"Um, Rachel, can I talk to you for a second?" Fiona asked very timidly.

"Sure, what's going on?" Rachel asked in return.

"Well, remember how I said that it was good to be honest with people, and not to hold anything in?" Fiona said nervously.

"Yes…" Rachel said, crossing her arms.

"Well, I…um…" Fiona could barely speak. She knew that she had to be very careful with her words when saying this, for she had very bad experience with it in the past. "I, um, haven't been telling you everything. And I feel like since you said what was always bothering you, I should say what's been bothering me."

"Let me guess… you're gay, right?" Rachel said, with a slight smirk.

Fiona was absolutely dumbfounded.

"How…" Fiona said, unable to contain her shock. "How did you know?"

"Well, honestly, I had my suspicions," Rachel said truthfully. "Although I really became certain this morning, when you said you were bullied often. When I picked on kids, the easiest targets were always when they were fat, sluts, or queers. And to be quite honest, Fiona, you don't come off as fat or slutty."

"Oh," Fiona said, somewhat surprised by the honesty of the answer. But something still had her puzzled. "Wait… 'suspicions'? What was suspicious?"

Rachel actually started chuckling to herself, unsure if she really wanted to answer honestly. But in the end, she decided it was probably best for Fiona to hear what she wanted to hear.

"Fiona, I've been popular for a really long time," Rachel said with a rather large smile on her face. "And I'm not going to be the least bit humble when I say this: I'm very attractive. So, when you've been as popular for as long as I have, and you look as good as I do, you have a tendency to notice whenever someone takes a peek at your chest. Good night, Fiona."

Rachel strolled into her room, trying her best to stifle her laughter. She really wished she could still see, as she would have been able to witness an indescribable face of shock embarrassment that Fiona had, and some of the reddest cheeks that had ever graced a human being. Fiona tried her best to shake off her embarrassed complexion, and pressed her face to the door.

"But, you're not going to tell anyone, right?" Fiona asked, simply as reassurance.

"Don't worry about it," Rachel said from the other side of the door. "My lips are sealed. Good night, Fiona."

"Yeah, good night," Fiona said softly, still terribly embarrassed. She turned to walk to the couch, but noticed that Tara had poked her head out of the bathroom. Her toothbrush was in one hand, the toothpaste was in another, and she had a huge, foamy grin on her face.

"You actually took peeks at Rachel's boobs?" Tara asked in disbelief. Fiona groaned, as her face flushed once again. Tara giggled like mad as she closed the bathroom door, and went back to cleaning her teeth.

Fiona lied down on the floor, and, trying her best not to not think of how much Tara was laughing in the bathroom, drifted off into a gentle sleep.

End of Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Traitor (The Rat in the Mouse's Cage)

Chapter 8: Traitor

Part 1 of 2: The Rat in the Mouse's Cage

February 19th, 2016

"Hold still, I'm almost done," cried the doctor, who was busy fusing together the last of the wires. Pinky groaned to herself, and flopped back on the bed. Even though she couldn't wait for the procedure all week, it was incredibly boring. Of course, she had Rachel to talk to, but there wasn't much to say, as Rachel had to constantly check to make sure the doctor was performing his tasks correctly.

Camelot had been rather spruced up in the last three months. If anything, it had only improved in quantity, and it was now had many more new features. The stock of weapons had been doubled, the amount of training equipment had tripled, and the new medical features were top of the line (although it was the weapon load-out that had Pinky the most thrilled). Also, the base was more teeming with life than ever before. Ever since the Korbalovs, the security had been drastically improved, and it would be arguable to say that Camelot was now impervious to break into.

But Pinky couldn't focus on any of this now, as she was too busy having leg surgery. Rachel, as Pinky had recently discovered, was actually quite intelligent. Rachel had always been fascinated with the biology of human beings, and when she had been actively studying, her favorite subject was human cybernetics. She couldn't explain why, but thinking about the interface between man and machine simply made her feel giddy. Rachel studied it excessively, and although she didn't have a doctorate, she was, without question, and expert in the field. It was Rachel who put forward a hydraulic system attached to Pinky's bones in order to get the girl some more mobility.

But Pinky didn't know that it would be so boring. She wished they would have knocked her out, but according to Rachel, she needed to be awake for the operation. She didn't mind that her legs had been numbed and then spilt open to the bone, where they now hid behind a curtain. But, she did mind the fact that she had been lying down, eating nothing and not sleeping, for a good five and a half hours. She didn't think the torment would ever end; that she would just lie on the operating table for the rest of her days.

"Okay, the wiring's complete!" the doctor said enthusiastically. Pinky sat up on her elbows to try to look past the curtain, but saw nothing. Still, she was incredibly happy.

"Great," said Rachel, who had been sitting in a chair by Pinky's side. "Three-quarters of the way there!"

Pinky groaned, and rested again. It was another hour before the doctor finished stitching her legs back together, and Pinky could finally sit up on the bed. The curtain was removed, and Pinky could see the long slits were her skin had been split apart.

"Can I eat now?" Pinky asked, hopefully.

"Pinky, no food for the next several hours," Rachel said sternly.

"Man, you were more fun when you didn't know science," Pinky complained. The doctors had left the room, leaving Rachel and Pinky by themselves, so Pinky felt perfectly comfortable in saying whatever she wanted.

"Can I at least put on some actual pants now?' Pinky pleaded.

"If you can manage it," Rachel said. "Although I am wondering: those pink pants of yours were actually short. Where did you find a longer pair?"

'I didn't; I improvised," Pinky said happily, rising to her feet. Over the past few months, Pinky had realized that her outfits seemed slightly one-dimensional. To her, having every single article of clothing be the same shade of pink was getting rather boring. Luckily, she seemed to start an affinity with a new color: black. It had started when she first received her leg braces, and she like the way the black metal stood out against her pink shoes. Some would have said it would be impossible to create an ensemble of clothes that were entirely pink and black, but Pinky managed quite well, trying to maintain a nice balance of color.

Her outfit usually consisted of mixing as much pink and black as possible, and on this day, it was no exception. She wore a black T-shirt, but kept in underneath a partially-zipped pink sweatshirt. She wore pink sneakers, but also had black shorts. However, she soon discovered more clothes were necessary, as any skin-on-skin contact with another person would give her random flashes and a nasty headache. So she kept her hands covered with thick gloves (one pink and one black), and she wore lengthy stockings as well (which happened to be striped, unsurprisingly, pink and black).

Once she had covered her lower half, she tried walking back and forth across the room. She wobbled as she went, but rather quickly, she got the hang of the new cybernetics.

"So how are they?" Rachel asked with a knowing grin.

"These are great!" Pinky said enthusiastically. "I can actually bend my knees now. I take it back; I like 'smart Rachel' much more than 'old Rachel'."

"So do I, Pinky,' Rachel said happily. It was true that Rachel had become much happier over the past few days. Not only could she finally act like herself, but she didn't feel bad about her blindness anymore. In fact, she acted so normally that some people around Camelot never even knew she was blind at all. She even stopped wearing her old, filthy headband, and walked around showing off a set of normally brown glass eyes.

After some short testing, her final conclusion was that her sight was controlled by her adrenaline, and the more intense a situation became, the more she would be able to do. Effectively, now that she could continue to help out P.O.N.Y, she didn't really mind all that much that she needed to walk around with a stick to get to places on a normal basis.

Rachel sat up from her chair, and grabbed onto her white cane, which was resting against the chair leg. Pinky opened the door for her, and the two walked out of the medical bay, and headed towards the training room, where the rest of the girls were. Along the way, they passed by the occasional solider or person in a suit, but it wasn't of anything to note. Twice, Pinky nearly stumbled to the ground, and needed to cling to Rachel for support, which nearly terrified the unsuspecting Brit. Eventually, the two did manage to make it to the training room, and opened up the door.

Immediately, Fiona flew past them, greatly startling the two with a gust of wind.

"Look out!" Fiona shouted, bracing herself. Within a few seconds, her flight had failed her, and she skid across the ground.

Fiona felt embarrassment more than pain. She had finally thought that she was able to control her wings; she was able to summon them and unsummon them, and she could fly about to a certain degree. However, turning still evaded her, and so she lay on the ground, her arms battered and bruised from excessive banging against the floor.

"Ow…" Fiona muttered out.

"Fiona, are you okay?" Tara called out.

"I'm fine," Fiona said with a groan.

Tara and AJ were resting on the side bleachers; AJ was lying on her back and relaxing, while Tara was focused on Dash, who was on the track. Dash, for the past twenty minutes, had been throwing a baseball to the other side of the track lengthwise, catching it in midair, and throwing it back to the other side.

"That's incredible, Dash," Tara commented. "So you must have an incredibly fast reaction time to process everything around you."

"Not to mention," Rachel suddenly joined in, making her way over to the seats. "Her body would have to produce almost no friction. And her organs would also happen to be able to withstand the sudden inertia of stopping still after moving at such a speed."

"What the fuck are you girls talking about?" Dash called out, before once more throwing the ball to herself. However, she was entirely ignored.

"She might be able to convert her whole body into a gaseous state of matter," Tara suggested.

"And her clothes?" Rachel asked, very much doubting Tara's theory. "Besides, she could hardly be able to have enough light reflect off of her eyes to see. I think it's much more likely that- Ow!"

Rachel winced as a baseball collided with her temple.

"Jesus Christ, just cuz your smart doesn't mean you can act like a pretentious bitch!" Dash insulted. "Now, what are you to talking about?"

"We're trying to provide an explanation for how you can move so fast," Tara said, somewhat annoyed. "You're defying a lot of the laws of physics, and we need to know why."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Dash said, shaking her head. "We've been granted magical powers by an alien-like device. You don't need more explanation than that."

"It's not magic," Rachel said, rubbing her head. "It's science. There is always an explanation for the unknown."

"Really?" Dash said, crossing her arms. "Then how the fuck does Tara move shit with her mind? How does science explain that?"

"I don't move things with my mind," Tara said. "I tested it out. I'm able to manipulate the magnetic field around any object, and use them to direct the object where I want them to go. And, I know this because if I try to lift a cellphone, I destroy its hardware."

"Well, how do you explain Rachel's weird blind, color shit?" Dash challenged.

"The device triggered some bizarre synapse in my brain," Rachel explained. "Since my sight is gone, my body adapted, and the device granted me some kind of echolocation via soudwaves. I'm still trying to figure out where they get released, though."

"Oh yeah, well…" Dash paused for a minute, before smirking. "What's the deal with Fiona?"

"She…" Tara started, but then stopped. "We're still working on that."

"Speaking of my wings," Fiona said, walking over to the others. She retracted the wings, which caused her to nearly lose her footing. "This may sound weird, but no one can see where they go, right? I mean, I've been too nervous to look, but I kind of want to know if they're like…" She gulped. "…moving."

"Um, sure, Fiona," Tara said, beckoning her over. She understood that Fiona was easily terrified, and the entire situation with the wings was completely unnatural. Fiona walked over, blushing somewhat, and held the front of her shirt in place, while Tara lifted up the back. Fiona's wings had given her the unfortunate side effect of not being able to wear any hoodies. She knew that she probably could, but she was still afraid of the wings suddenly rupturing from her back, and either crunching up underneath the hoodie, or tearing right through it. Even though she had plenty of evidence to suggest that the bases of the wings phased right through whatever clothing she wore, she still didn't want to risk anything. Tara took one look at Fiona's back, and became very confused.

"Fiona?" Tara asked nervously. "You wouldn't have tattoos by any chance, would you?"

"Why?"

"I… I have no idea how to tell you this, Fiona, but…" Tara said, uncomfortably. Suddenly, Dash appeared next to her, and saw exactly what Tara saw.

"Holy shit," Dash said with a big smile. She patted Fiona on the back. "Sweet tats, kid."

"What!?" Fiona said, surprised. It was true; a large tattoo of two angel wings took up the entire space of Fiona's back. Barely any of the skin on her back was left untouched, except for a very small sliver along her spine. "But those weren't there when my wings were out."

"So that's where those giant motherfuckers go," Dash said to herself. "Tara, care to explain with 'science'?"

Tara had no explanation, and so she didn't even attempt to say anything.

"Why are ya so focused on this whole Macer thing?" AJ spoke up. "I didn't get anything at all. There aint no need to make a big deal about how they work. We should just be focused on how they can help."

"Well, Celestia's coming back today," Tara mentioned. "We can talk more about this whole mess more when she returns."

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG

The girls covered their ears, as gunshots unexpectedly rang out in the training room. The girls turned and saw Pinky, who had completely ignored everything they were discussing, testing out one of the new submachine guns that had recently been obtained.

"What?" Pinky said, slightly discouraged.

"Pinky, could you not shoot while we're talking about this?" Tara said.

"Sorry," Pinky said. "I just wanted to-"

"We need to be on our best behavior," Tara reaffirmed. "Las thing we need is for Celestia to say that we're too much of a problem to be put to use."

"Oh, come on, sis," a voice from behind suddenly said. "Let her have some fun."

Without any other warning, Tara was suddenly gripped from behind, and brought into a massive hug. Tara had never even heard Cadence enter or the room, or walk up behind her, but she was extremely happy to finally see her sister-in-law again.

"Cadence, it's great to see you," Tara said, returning the hug. "When did you get back?"

"Twenty minutes ago," Cadence said. "The chairwoman's on an important phone call. She wants to see you guys in ten minutes."

"Well, that went a lot faster than I expected," AJ muttered to herself under her breath.

"How is she reacting to it all?" Tara asked.

"She's mostly fine," Cadence said, earning sighs of relief from the others. "I think she just wants to make sure that you can all still function as a team." Cadence lowered her voice. "Tara, are you okay? You're not in pain, or anything?"

"I'm fine, Cadence," Tara said honestly. "I think we all are generally okay."

"Actually, I'm not," Pinky suddenly bounded over. "Seriously, someone touch me. That'll be some real pain."

"Pinky, we're not going to start poking you," Tara said, annoyed that Pinky was missing the point of a private conversation.

"Come on," Pinky insisted. "You can't just lie about everything, Tara. Does Cadence even know what we can do?"

"You know, I've read the files," Cadence stated, crossing her arms. "I know what's going on. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling well, sis."

"Is no one going to touch me?!" Pinky yelled, suddenly frustrated.

Pinky's behavior was starting to have a very negative effect on Tara's nerves. While Pinky could certainly help out in a fight, and could always lighten the atmosphere of a room, there was no doubt that her naivety and child-like way of handling things had become rather grating over the months. Pinky was still Tara's friend; there was no doubt about that. But sometimes, Pinky's ignorance became quite bothersome, her constant interference troubling, and her little care for serious matters a hassle to deal with.

"Pinky, you feel pain when people touch you," Tara reminded her friend.

"I know, that's the point!" Pinky exclaimed. "You said that we were all okay, but I'm not! How am I supposed to prove that to anyone without proof!?"

"You know what?" Cadence groaned, equally annoyed by Pinky's prattling on about things that didn't matter. "Screw it. Pinky, here you go…"

In an instant, Cadence extended one finger, and lightly pushed it against Pinky's forehead, in a manner that probably was slightly more harsh than was meant.

"Please God! Just leave us alone! We'll do whatever you want!"

Suddenly, Pinky let out a loud gasp, and stumbled backwards, falling several feet to the floor as if she was shot point blank in the chest. She saw a rapid series of images flash through her mind, each filled with something horrible. She saw two very young girls smiling together, although their faces seemed to be carved away. She saw a room that was littered with various body parts. She saw images of people lying dead on the floor, and images of broken mirrors, each holding a distorted face. But through all of this, she heard nothing but the cries of people screaming and begging for their lives; everything else was simply white noise. Pinky was stunned; she was unable to do anything except watch countless flashes of violence and destruction run rampant through her mind. Quickly, the others noticed Pinky's horrified expression and heavy breathing, and ran over to help her. Pinky saw three figures hovering over her, most of them blurry. She thought she could make out AJ and Tara, but the third person's face not only was unrecognizable, but was absolutely terrifying.

It was a woman who was hovering over her, although this she could barely tell. The woman had short white hair, which came to rest just below the ear. Her skin was pure black, and it looked as if the color had carved its way into the skin. Her teeth were all sharp and pointed, giving her more of a resemblance to an animal rather than a woman. Her eyes, worst of all, were a haunting shade of red, with no pupils visible.

Pinky blinked a few times, and then, the flashes suddenly stopped. She could hear clearly again, and where the horrific woman once stood, a worried Cadence was now present.

"Are you alright, honey?" AJ asked, helping Pinky off the ground. Pinky clutched her head, and stumbled about on her feet.

"Uh, yeah," Pinky lied. "I… I think I just need to lie down for a minute."

"I told you not to touch anyone," Tara scolded. "Go to the beds. We'll let you know how the meeting with Celestia goes."

Pinky nodded, and then slowly walked past the confused gazes of Fiona and Dash. She opened the door, but briefly looked back at Cadence, who was giving a slightly annoyed glare. Nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary with her, but Pinky simply got an awful sensation whenever she looked at the special op's agent. Pinky left the room with a nasty headache, and an even worse sensation of dread, as she made her way to the sleeping quarters.

__________

"So they simply called off the hit?" Celestia reconfirmed, leaning against a desk in the Briefing Room. The girls stood around, discussing the events of late, while Cadence quietly waited in the corner. Two guards were standing against the back wall with fully loaded machine guns, and thick armor. Despite this increase in security, Celestia seemed to be a lot less formal when talking with the girls than Wilson, going as far as to ensure that the girls never referred to her as "chairwoman".

"They didn't have anything to gain by it," Tara said.

"Well, that's at least one problem we shouldn't have to deal with," Celestia explained. "The Korbalovs, if anything, take their business very serious. If they say they won't kill you, then they probably won't. Hell, you could probably hire them now, if you really wanted to. And also, thank you for retrieving the MACER Device from their base; it was quite helpful. But now, the important matters…"

"We're not shutting down P.O.N.Y, are we?" Tara asked, concerned. Celestia shook her head.

"It took some persuading," Celestia said. "But no, we should be fine. Under a few conditions, of course. First of all, none of you are to ever display use of your powers in public. We've spent nearly twenty years trying to keep Macers a secret, and we would like to keep it that way."

"Question," Dash said, raising her hand. "If we are surrounded by bad guys, can we use our powers then?"

"If you kill them afterwards," Celestia informed. "Second, we need to procure a list of all of the modifications made to your DNA. It's for the best if we keep everything noted."

"What about me?" AJ asked, crossing her arms. "Nothing happened to me. People keep telling me that I should feel different, but I feel exactly the same as I always have."

"The MACER Device has never failed," Celestia stated. "We'll take a DNA test; find out what the extent of the modification is. In fact, we should probably take blood tests on all of you anyway, just to be sure. Also, a last bit of news…"

Celestia walked over to another desk, and pulled out a small box.

"Considering how much you girls have been through," Celestia said. "I've decided to give you all a little something. Being the chairwoman does have some perks."

The girls looked through the box, and to their surprise, they found that the box contained their old possessions, which were confiscated after they had joined P.O.N.Y.

"Tara, here is one copy of The Complexity of Wormholes, signed by Neil Degrasse Tyson," Celestia said, handing Tara a thick novel, which the science-loving girl accepted happily. Celestia continued onwards pulling out more gifts and giving them to the girls. "The Complete Guide of the Wonderful Animal Kingdom, completely cleaned of blood, goes to Fiona. For Rachel, a home-made pink and blue sweater. And…"

Celestia paused, as she pulled out a plushy, anthropomorphic turtle. She carefully looked at the stitching in the side, and made a face that was halfway between surprise and amusement.

"One 'Tank the Turtle' stuffed animal for Rebecca," Celestia said, tossing the fluffy turtle to a shocked Dash. Dash received a series of confused and smug glares, as she examined the animal.

"Um…" Dash said, unsure of what to say to relieve the sense of embarrassment. "I think you got one of my roommate's belongings."

"It has your name on it," Tara said, suddenly suffering a case of the giggles. Dash groaned.

"Look, I got a soft spot for fucking turtles," Dash said, waving her arms wildly about, which in turn caused the turtle to flop its limbs about. "Don't make a fucking deal about. Hey, what's this?"

Dash reached into the box, and suddenly pulled out the last item. It was a small black book, with only one hundred or so pages, and a leather casing.

"That," Celestia explained. "Was all we could find from Pinky's belongings. Nothing else she owned seemed to have relevant importance."

Without hesitation, Dash started to flip through the pages of the book, not caring at all for the massive invasion of privacy.

"Holy shit," Dash exclaimed. "I think this is Pinky's journal. Man, we gotta read this."

"No, we don't," Tara said, snatching the book from Dash before the rebellious girl could make out any words on the current page. "I don't think Pinky would appreciate us reading through her personal thoughts."

"Spark, don't tell me you're not at all curious?" Dash said, crossing her arms. "I mean, don't you want to get a peak in Pinky's drugged-up head? Get a peek into the madness? Hell, maybe she wrote down the guy who sells her coke."

"Dash, don't be a bitch about this," Rachel commented. "Pinky's journal is of no importance to us. In fact, we should probably give this back to her right now."

"I'll do it," Cadence spoke up. "You can go on with your meeting that way."

"Thank you, Cadence," Celestia said, as Cadence rose to her feet. She accepted the book, although when she made contact with Celestia's hand, she couldn't help but grimace, if only for half of a moment. Cadence walked out of the room, as Celestia resumed discussing the important matters of continuing the search for The Unknown.

Cadence walked down the hallway at a leisurely pace. She really didn't care about delivering Pinky her book; she simply could not stand being in the presence of Celestia for any longer without having the sudden urge to drive an ice pick into her neck. Everything about Celestia made the air heavy, and an escape was necessary. Besides, she didn't mind getting used to the facilities. After all, she had no idea how long it would take for the job to be done. Unfortunately for her, everything seemed rather similar, and it was hard to get her bearings in what seemed like endless gray corridors. It eventually became boring, and in order to make her life interesting, she opened Pinky's journal to a random page, and started to read it as she walked.

Dear Journal,

Today something wierd happened, or at lest, I thnk it was weird. I was playing in the mud, and this huge guy showed up at our front door. He loooked super grumpy, like a realy big cat. He wanted to see Dad, which was stragne, because he was still super grumpy, but Dad is'nt grumpy at all. They talked and talked and talked and talked, and then the grumpy guy left. They must have been having a party, since they were shouting a hole lot. I think the grumpy guy was a pirate or somthing. Pirates are grumpy. Or maybe a grumpy astronot, or a grumpy supermodel. Dad also told me something important today. He told me to never grow up, and never be like one of those grumpy people. Dad is super cool, so I neeed to make sure to rememember that.

-Patty, Age 7

Cadence quickly closed the book after just one page. To be honest, she didn't know too much about any of the P.O.N.Y's to care. In fact, she didn't even know what Pinky's actual name was; it just simply never occurred to her. Regardless, she found that it was no longer necessary to read, as she believed to have found her way to the sleeping quarters. Cadence took a deep breath, then instantly removed her face of annoyance, opening the door. Pinky was lying face down on the bottom left bunk, her hands wrapped tightly around her pillow.

"Hey," Cadence greeted. "Got this for you."

Pinky looked up from the bed, a pained expression on her face. She rubbed her head woozily, and allowed her eyes to refocus themselves. However, once they did focus, they suddenly became wide.

"Where did you get that?" Pinky asked, nervously.

"Gift from Celestia," Cadence explained. Without any warning, Pinky quickly sprang up from her bed, and snatched the journal forcefully from Cadence's grasp.

"You didn't read through this, did you?" Pinky asked, quite scared.

"No," Cadence lied. "By the way, sorry for giving you a headache."

However, Pinky seemed unfazed by the apology, instead focusing on the little black book in her possession.

"Uh…" Cadence was unsure what to say. From her perspective, Pinky was acting like a rabid animal, and she wished to gain as much distance as possible. "You're welcome, I guess."

With that, Cadence left the room with a groan, and started to take a long walk back to the Briefing Room.

Bzzzt Bzzzt Bzzzt

Cadence pulled out her cell phone, and answered with disinterest.

"Hello?" Cadence said.

"You sure do sound different, baby," growled the unmistakably deep, cocky, arrogant voice of Sombra.

"It's the voice of one Cadence Sullivan," Cadence said, lowering her voice.

"Well, it sounds youthful," Sombra commented. "I guess it's needed to infiltrate the base."

"You do know that they can trace all calls emitting from here, right?" Cadence said, rather annoyed.

"Relax, won't you?" Sombra said, unworried. "I'm already managing the system."

"Why did you even bother calling?" Cadence asked. "Every second I waste speaking to you is another chance they could discover who I am."

"Look, the boss is out checking over the work," Sombra explained. "I simply called to make sure you were doing alright."

"Aw, how lovely of you to care," Cadence said sarcastically.

"Believe it or not, I do like you the most," Sombra stated. "For what it's worth."

"I love you, too," Cadence spoke with a sneer.

"But on more important matters, how is the operation going?" Sombra asked.

"Perfect," Cadence said. "They don't have the slightest idea who I really am."

"Are they dead?" Sombra asked, very interested.

"Who?"

"The six girls who have had the audacity to try to stop our goals."

"What are you talking about?"

"Wait, what do you mean, 'what are you talking about'?" Sombra said, very confused. "Don't tell me you have no idea who they are?"

"Of course I know who they are," Cadence said stubbornly. "I've been going over their cases for months."

"Then what are you confused about?" Sombra asked, growing rather annoyed.

"Why did you ask me if the girls were dead?" Cadence responded. "I'm not supposed to kill them."

Sombra was quiet for a moment, as he tried to rack his head around every bit of nonsense that his associate was spewing.

"You aren't supposed to kill them!?" Sombra shouted in anger. "But why not!? Isn't that the entire fucking point of you being there!?"

"No," Cadence stated. She began to explain things to the berate King. "Look, my original goal was to infiltrate and disrupt this operation. Ever since the beginning, the boss told me to keep the teenagers alive. He said it was crucial. I'm just doing a bit of sabotage. But once I found out that Bridgette was leading the operation, I had to convince the boss to let me take her out. So, now I have two goals, neither of which needs to involve the death of those kids."

"Wait a second," Sombra said. "You didn't know Bridgette Celestia was leading this operation?"

"Not until I actually got here, and saw the smug look on that bitch's face," Cadence said with hatred in her voice."

"But, that doesn't make sense," Sombra muttered. "I thought Celestia was the whole reason why you came here in the first place?"

"No," Cadence said. "I came here because I liked the ideas The Unknown had, and I wanted to help."

"But then how… what…" Sombra muttered something under his breath, and then spoke more seriously. "Look, Chrysalis, do you think the boss is a little… bizarre?"

"Not at all," Cadence answered. "Do you?"

"I just mean," Sombra explained. "That man has some weird shit about him. Why do you just blindly follow his orders around, without any questions at all?"

"I don't blindly follow him," Cadence explained. "I have faith in his choices. He knows exactly what he is doing."

"Really?" Sombra said in question. "Keeping our main threat alive while you slowly skulk about the base doing nothing is a good decision?"

"Look, Sombra, you need to understand a few things," Cadence said. "I'm not the best fighter. Goons are fine to deal with; I have no problem taking down idiots. But the guards here know what the fuck they are doing. I can't just try to run around and kill everyone in sight. I'd get slaughtered. Besides, I may not be allowed to kill them, but…" she grinned. "That doesn't mean I can't tear them apart."

Sombra groaned.

"Look, all I'm trying to say is," Sombra said. "Just try to stay alive. As the most sane person in our little group, I'd prefer to have someone else intelligent around as well."

"Thanks, Sombra," Cadence said half-heartedly. "That almost put me to tears."

With that, Sombra hung up the phone, leaving Cadence by herself in an empty corridor.

__________

"Okay, Dash, get ready," AJ said, looking at the timer on her phone. Dash was pressed against the wall in the training room, waiting for AJ's command a determined look on her face. Tara watched intently, while Rachel sat calmly beside her. "Go!"

In a blur, Dash ran across the room, eventually slapping the opposite wall hard with her hand.

"How fast was that?" Dash called out.

"Nearly three seconds!" AJ responded happily.

"Yep, it's official!" Dash cheered. "I am the fastest woman alive! Suck it, Usian Bolt!"

"Dash, you might want to take a break from that," Tara stated. "You look kind of worn out."

Dash didn't have her usual perseverance. She appeared to be breathing heavily, and she holding her side in a pained manner. In fact, Tara was almost quite positive that she could see Dash sweating, something which was so rare, that it actually worried her quite a bit.

"I'm fine, Spark," Dash said, although it came out as more of a wheeze. In another blur, Dash appeared by Tara's side, now looking even more exhausted.

"I don't think prolonged movement at such a speed is good for you," Tara said.

"No way!" Dash protested. "I've never felt better. (pant) In fact, (pant) I think I should take another few laps around the (pant) track."

"Dash, take a rest," Rachel suggested. "Get some water, too. You're probably pretty dehydrated."

"I'm not tired (pant)," Dash tried to say again, but found that it was getting harder to remain standing. She sat down on the floor, and ran a hand through her short, multi-colored hair. "Shit… does anyone else (pant) see spots?"

"I'll get you some water," Tara said, rising to her feet.

"Right behind ya," AJ said, following her friend. The two left the room, leaving Rachel and Dash to themselves.

"So, the great Rebecca Dawson has finally worn herself out," Rachel commented, earning a deadly glare from Dash.

"Fuck you, sightless," Dash sneered, although she could hardly keep her harsh composure when she suddenly started to aggressively cough.

"Dash, as someone who has spent time studying the repertory system," Rachel claimed. "I wouldn't recommend talking too much with a cough like that."

"I'm going to be fine," Dash said, her voice somewhat hoarse. "Besides, you would hate it if I stopped talking; you wouldn't know where anything is."

"I still find that offensive, you know," Rachel said in warning.

"I know," Dash said. "By the way, I'm rolling my eyes in a sarcastic manner. Just thought you should know that, too."

As Rachel tried her best not to lunge at Dash, and Dash tried her best not to have a heart attack, AJ and Tara walked calmly into the mess hall. The mess hall was a room largely unused in 2015, but since more people came to the base in the new year, it was often filled with at least five people. In truth, it was little more than a water cooler, several tables, and an air conditioning unit in a white room, but it had a homey quality to it, and it was a good place to relax in. Tara walked over to the water cooler, and started to fill up several plastic cups.

"So, how are your powers coming along?" AJ asked to fill up the time.

"Pretty good," Tara said, filling up a third cup, which she carefully balanced between the other two. "I mean, I can somewhat control it, although I still can't pick up anything heavier than a chair."

"Ya picked up a door in Russia," AJ said, confused. "And ya also threw the Korbalovs out of their own house."

"I wish I knew how," Tara said, now trying to carry four small cups of water in her arms. Sensing an inevitable collapse, AJ took two of the cups away, and the two girls walked back to the training room.

"I just wish I knew what the hell the machine did to me," AJ said honestly.

"I'm not really bothered by it," AJ said, although she looked as if she was certainly caught in the act. "Ya can't blame a girl for being curious, though. Last thing I need is for a flesh-eating bacteria getting into my bloodstream."

"I severely doubt that you got flesh-eating bacteria," Tara said. Suddenly, she heard a noise, and stopped in her tracks. Unless she was mistaken, it sounded like Cadence was swearing to herself inside of the Briefing Room. She didn't know why Cadence would be in the Briefing Room, as usually, the only people in that room were Celestia, but she didn't entirely care at the moment. It sounded like Cadence was rather bothered by something, and as her sister-in-law, Tara could not resist to help.

Tara quickly turned and opened the door with her shoulder, allowing light to enter the dark room. The room was completely devoid of human life except for the one special forces agent, who was huddled over one of the computers with an extremely paranoid expression.

"Cadence, what's going on in here?" Tara asked with no hint of awareness. Cadence froze in panic for a brief moment, acting akin to a deer in headlights. She quickly regained her composure before Tara could understand what was going on, and put on a smile.

"Oh, nothing," Cadence said, quickly typing away on the keyboard.

"Are you sure?" Tara asked. "You sounded kind of upset."

"No problems at all," Cadence said. Tara readjusted her grip on the cups of water, which meant that she didn't notice when Cadence pressed the "ENTER" key twice in rapid succession. "Actually, you're just who I've been meaning to talk to. Can we, you know, talk?"

"Oh, sure," Tara said. She turned to AJ, who understood at once, and took the cups from her friend's possession. AJ left the two alone, and Tara shut the door behind her as she stepped into the Briefing Room. "So, what's up?"

"You know, Tara, I've been thinking," Cadence said. "I mean, I haven't been around here a lot. I've just been so busy lately. Honestly, I kinda feel left out."

"Left out?" Tara wondered.

"Well," Cadence explained. "We used to have a lot of good times together. But lately, I feel like we haven't been connecting like we used to be. I think it might be your friends."

"Why?" Tara said, almost offended. "Do you not like them? I know Dash can be a bit much, but—"

"Oh no, it's not that," Cadence quickly said. "It's just that I don't know them that well. I don't think I've ever really held a conversation with any of them. Well… okay, I had one conversation over the phone, but that was it."

"Okay," Tara said, nodding her head.

"Look, this may sound weird," Cadence said. "But can you tell me more about them? If they are your friends, then I want to be on good terms on them, and at the very least, I want to know what they're like."

Tara considered this for a moment, and then smiled.

"Okay, I'll try," Tara said. "Okay, well, let's go one at a time. Dash is pushy, and arrogant, and narcissistic, and kind of mean, and can be really insulting, so you probably shouldn't talk to her often. I mean, she cares and all, but she's a hassle to deal with."

"Is she the one who said all of those things about me and your brother?" Cadence said.

"Yeah…" Tara said, blushing at the memory.

"Okay, I was already avoiding her," Cadence said. "Who can I actually talk to?"

"AJ's cool," Tara said. "I mean, she's occasionally brutally honest, and gets overly determined to rush into things, but she's nice enough. Pinky's a bit much to deal with too. She mostly just spouts nonsense most of the time, but she tries her best to be helpful. I'm still trying to figure out Rachel; I mean, before I would have described her as self-centered and fashion-oriented, but now she's actually really smart, probably even smarter than me. If you do talk to her, try to avoid talking about her sight. I think she's still a little sensitive about that. Fiona's also a little weird to talk to. I mean, she's really sweet and all, but she doesn't talk a lot. Plus…" Tara paused for a moment. "This might sound wired, but she may act strange around you, maybe, possibly… because she's sexually attracted to you."

"So…" Cadence said slowly. "She's a dyke."

"Yeah," Tara said, her face flushed. "I kinda found that out the hard way."

"You slept with a girl?" Cadence said, astonished.

"What? No!" Tara couldn't deny the accusation fast enough. "She came on to me once, but that was it. By the way, don't ever tell the others about that, or she will probably rip me apart. Okay, she'll probably burst into tears, but still, don't tell anyone that. Promise?"

"Sure, promise," Cadence said with a smirk. However, she couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Man, there is so much potential here."

"Anything else you want to know?" Tara asked. "I mean, those are the basics, sure, but I know more, like their eating habits, workout routines, favorite extracurricular active-"

"I think that's fine, sis," Cadence said, starting to leave the room.

"Are you sure?" Tara asked, wishing to prolong the time spent with her sister-in-law. "There's so much more you need to know. What if you try to give Rachel strawberries? She'd go into anaphylactic shock! Or what if you accidentally damage Pinky's sensitive legs, or you anger Dash, or-"

"Tara, I think I know all I need to know," Cadence said, walking out of the room. "Although, thanks for helping. I think I might finally be able to get some friends around here."

"No problem," Tara said. Despite Cadence obviously being very pleased, there was no doubt that Tara wished their time together was longer, or at the very least, more personal. Tara still had so many things she wanted to hear about. She wanted to hear how her brother was doing, she wanted to hear about the war, she wanted to hear about her family, and most importantly, she wanted to hear more about Cadence. Cadence seemed ever more distant with each passing day, and Tara knew that her stay would probably be a short one.

Yet despite the ever decreasing time-limit on the time they spent together, Tara didn't bother chasing after Cadence once she left. She of all people understood that when important things needed to be done, it was best not to interfere. So she allowed Cadence to walk away in silence, positive that her friend had very important matters to attend to.

__________

The grey-headed lovebird is a variety of parrot native to Madagascar. As the name would imply, lovebirds spend a majority of their fifteen-year lifespan with one single mate, and they often spend a long period of time simply sitting down next to that single mate. Like most birds, they mostly eat seeds, although lovebirds have been known to feast on the occasional fig.

Fiona turned the page, and tried her best to remember the differences between a grey-headed lovebird and a black-cheeked lovebird. She quickly made a short mantra, and repeated it in her mind.

Black cheek, white ring, black cheek, white ring, Fiona said over and over in her mind. Once she was certain she knew the basic difference, she continued reading on with great enthusiasm.

As she had discovered, at the edge of Camelot was a storage closet, which was only about ten feet in diameter. It was mostly used to hold supplies, but had a comfy feel to it, making it the perfect place for Fiona to read. Plus, it was rarely, if ever, visited by other people, so Fiona could spend hours by herself reading her animal book. She didn't think of it as being anti-social, or at least, she hoped it didn't come off as anti-social. Now that Fiona thought about it, it did seem like she was trying to separate herself from the group (although, technically, that was her goal). The last thing she wanted was to make the others think she didn't care about them. In fact, this was starting to worry her. What if they thought she didn't like them anymore? What if they thought she was acting selfishly? That would be truly terrible.

But then she shook the ridiculous thoughts out of her mind. She told herself to stop worrying about trivial things that most-likely did not exist, and enjoy reading her book. Fiona sighed, and leaned her head back against the wall she was sitting next to. Despite the lighting in the room being dim from the room's old nature, she could perfectly make out the words on the page. She now started to read about the next variant of lovebird, the black-collared lovebird.

Knock Knock Knock

"Fiona, are you in there?" Tara called out. Without hesitation, Fiona rose to her feet, and opened the door, revealing a very nervous Tara.

"Is something going on?" Fiona asked, starting to get nervous herself.

"I was just wondering," Tara said, shifting around on her feet. "No one else is around here, are they?"

"No," Fiona said, slightly confused.

"And almost no one can hear anything coming from here, right?" Tara said, slowly shifting her face into a sly grin.

"I don't think so," Fiona said.

"Perfect," Tara said, walking into the room.

"So what's goin-"

Fiona couldn't finish her words, as without any warning, Tara sprang forward, and crashed her lips into Fiona's. Using her foot, Tara slammed the door shut, leaving her alone with the absolutely confused (and furiously blushing) Fiona. After twenty seconds, Tara separated, allowing her to fully take in Fiona's wide eyes and wide-open jaw. From Fiona's perspective, all she could make out was a bizarre fuzzy feeling, her heart pounding in her ears, and a very sultry look on her friend's face.

"I can't take it anymore," Tara panted out, her eyes akin to a wild animal. Tara wrapped her arms around Fiona's neck, and tightly pressed herself up against her friend, making Fiona gulp. "I can't stand being around you like this and not having you. These past few months have been driving me nuts. All I do every single night is crave you."

"Tara," Fiona said, looking away from her friend. "You… you don't sound like yourself."

"But I've never been feeling more right," Tara said, drawing Fiona closer in. "Don't tell me you don't want this."

"I…" Fiona could barely speak. She didn't understand her own emotions. This was everything that she wanted, but then why did it feel so wrong? Suddenly, Tara's seductive glare faded away, and she looked almost heartbroken.

"Am I not good enough for you?" Tara asked, starting to sniffle. "Is this not what you want?"

"No, it's not that," Fiona said, immediately trying to cheer up her friend.

"I thought you cared about me," Tara said, tears welling in her eyes.

"I do," Fiona said. She felt as if she was messing everything up, and she barely even knew what was going on in the first place. The last thing she remembered, Tara was beyond straight, and she needed to keep herself restrained. Now everything was turned around, and she was struggling to hold herself back. Why was it so hard for her to give into her emotions?

"If you do care about me," Tara said, once more pressing her lips to Fiona's. Three seconds later, they separated, and Tara stared deep into Fiona's eyes. "Then prove it."

There were no more restraints. Any boundaries that were in the way were instantly pushed aside by passion and lust, which blindly drove the two girls forward. Fiona could hardly control her actions; she was driven purely by her primal instincts, and, as far as she could tell, so was Tara; both of them had closed eyes, using each other's bodies to guide them. Somewhat roughly, Tara pushed Fiona up against the back wall, and held her in place as she assaulted her lips. Time became lost. Fiona felt as if she were melting, and all her body could recognize were flashes of the gentle touches of skin, lips, and tongues. She would say it was one of the greatest moments of her life, but everything still felt wrong to her. She couldn't remove the pang of guilt deep in her chest. The situation was undoubtedly arousing, but she didn't feel aroused. In fact, she felt almost as if were tensing up, freezing in place more as each second passed. She felt a strange tingling in her lips that was most certainly different from Tara's warm, soft kisses.

In fact, now that she paid attention to it, she thought the tingling was actually starting to hurt. She felt her lips slowly grow ragged and dry, and the pain was slowly spreading up through the rest of her body. Her body grew ever more tense, and in a few moments, Fiona suddenly lost all ability to move. It was as if she was pinned to a specific part of space, unable to unfreeze herself. As her body became ever more rigid, Fiona's eyes shot open, to see Tara was smiling brightly into her kiss.

"You know," Tara said with a sultry tone. "It took me an hour to mix that nerve toxin into my lipstick."

Tara leaned away from a very stunned and rather horrified Fiona, and flashed a big, toothy grin. With great shock, Fiona saw that each of Tara's teeth were long and sharp, which instantly turned all of her passion into horror.

"I've never actually kissed a girl before," Tara said. "I mean, obviously I've tasted the flesh, but I never specifically got a taste of the lips before. And, may I say, you certainly seem to be rather appetizing."

Tara's eyes shot open, revealing not the two light brown wonders that Fiona was used to seeing, but two bright red, glowing orbs. Fiona tried to yell out for help, but her mouth refused to form into words.

"The nerve toxin in your system should wear off in about twenty-four hours," Tara stated. "But by then, everything should be taken care of. See, I have nothing against you personally. Hell, you were a far better kisser than my ex was. Unfortunately, he wasn't very tasty at all."

Tara thought back to a happier time in her life just after her boyfriend had dumped her, specifically to the dinner that she had that night.

"Now, if you excuse me for a brief moment," Tara said, bringing one sharp fingernail to Fiona's shoulder. In one swift motion, Tara cut a lengthy slit into Fiona's shoulder, and fresh blood started to seep from the wound. Fiona wanted to hiss in pain, but found that she was still completely numb. As such, she was forced to watch helplessly as "Tara" scooped up some blood on her finger, stuck out her tongue (which Fiona was horribly embarrassed to think was in her mouth a mere sixty seconds ago), and licked her finger. If it wasn't for the incredibly disturbing nature of the whole event, Fiona would dare say that it was almost erotic.

"Mmm," Tara moaned, licking up the blood once more. "For the record, I didn't really need to taste your blood right there; the samples that bitch Celestia took provided plenty. But, I did always think you tasted the best. You were the sweetest."

Before Fiona's very eyes, Tara went through a metamorphosis. A black substance quickly ran up her skin and her clothes, wrapping her up in a cocoon of shadows. In silhouette, Fiona could make out the basics of the transformation. She could see Tara change side, becoming slightly taller and slimmer, her jaw line change, her arms change length, and so on. Tara was becoming a different person right before her eyes, and Fiona was too scared to see what she would become, yet her body refused to look away. Fiona mentally brace herself, and then, five seconds later, the darkness vanished, leaving Fiona to stare in shock at an exact duplicate of herself.

Everything was there; her long pink hair, the faint scar on the bridge of her nose, her flexed back shoulders, her clothing, and every little detail of her physique was matched perfectly, except for her eyes, which were still two red orbs. However, the other Fiona closed her eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them, they were the luscious green that Fiona normally had. The other Fiona leaned in close, and wore a terribly wicked smirk on her face.

"Don't look so sad, Fiona," the other woman said, brushing her hand through Fiona's hair. The other woman now spoke in Fiona's voice, which multiplied how disturbed Fiona was greatly. "Once I kill Celestia, I'll be sure to drag the mutilated corpse of your little wannabe lover right here, so you can spend your last few moments covered in her own blood as I slowly tear her throat out. Now doesn't that sound nice?"

The other Fiona rose to her feet, and walked towards the door, snickering to herself. She opened the door, but at the last minute, she turned around, and blew an insulting kiss to the numb girl.

"Stay fresh, baby," the other woman said with a laugh, and then slammed the door hard. The resulting shaking caused the light to flicker out, leaving Fiona all by herself in the darkness, silent, numb, and terribly afraid.

To Be Continued...

Chapter 8: Traitor (Vengeful Desires from Unhealable Wounds)

Chapter 8: Traitor

Part 2 of 2: Vengeful Desires from Unhealable Wounds

Navigating around Camelot was a difficult task for almost everybody, yet that didn't mean Rachel did not feel shameful that it took her so long to get places. While she did manage to memorize the entire layout of the underground facility, it did not provide much help.

Usually, because of this, she always made sure to walk with someone wherever she went. It allowed her not only to have accompaniment, but also gave her someone to interact with. It did not matter who, although there were some people she would have thought to prefer more than others (primarily Dash, who she was quite certain would guide her around aimlessly for possibly hours on end).

On this one particular occasion, she was walking with Tara, and was in deep discussion regarding the wellbeing of Pinky, who they were on their way to see.

"But how would memory transferal pass through the skin?" Rachel pondered. "I mean, does it go through the pores?"

"Probably the nerve receptors," Tara suggested. "I mean, the response is almost instantaneous. It would also explain how it gets to the brain so easily."

"I thought about that," Rachel said. "But how would one's thoughts be translated into a form that can be passed by electric impulses?"

"Man, this is infuriating," Tara mumbled to herself. "We are at the center of a massive scientific change, and we have no idea what the specifics are. You know, I think I might just give in to what Dash is saying."

"Don't encourage her," Rachel scolded, as the two arrived to the sleeping quarters. They opened the door, and were greeted with an almost adorable sight. Pinky was lying face down on her bunk, her arm and leg hanging over the side. She was snoring quietly, and resting atop her head was her black journal; its pages were sprawled open, and it was almost as if she were reading the journal with the back of her skull.

"So…" Tara said. "I guess she's alright."

"I suppose," Rachel said, who had immediately identified the sound of snoring. "Should we wake her up?"

"We should probably just let her sleep," Tara said, walking over to the normally hyperactive girl. She removed the journal from her head, and placed it down beside the bunk, thinking it to be the appropriate thing to do. When she looked back at Rachel, she noticed that the Brit seemed to be acting rather odd. She was shifting around on her feet constantly, and she looked almost embarrassed.

"Hey, Tara," Rachel asked nervously. "You don't think that, maybe, we could take a peek at that journal, would you?"

"You're kidding me," Tara said, shocked. "Now you want to invade Pinky's privacy?"

"Dash had a point," Rachel argued. "I mean, wouldn't you like to know what she thinks of everything?"

"What happened to 'not encouraging Dash'?" Tara said angrily.

"I don't want her stupidity to be encouraged," Rachel spoke back, crossing her arms. "But this is for science."

"How is this for science?"

"This is our opportunity to view into one of the most fascinating psychological complexes in the world," Rachel said. "Who knows what we'll find? Hell, Dash could be right; we could find out how her drug addiction got started."

"Pinky doesn't have a drug addiction," Tara stated very factually. "That's just something Dash came up with as part of her 'new world perspective'."

"I don't know, Tara," Rachel said defensively. "It makes sense to me. I mean, she can't be that hyper because of sugar, can she?"

"I have no idea how she stays like that," Tara said. "But I have a pretty good idea that she doesn't smuggle cocaine. Besides, where would she even get it? And how? It's not like she has any money to buy it."

"Pinky's addicted to cocaine?" spoke a soft voice from the door. The two intelligent girls had been so caught up in their conversation that they failed to notice Fiona standing silently in the doorway, listening to their conversation.

"No, Fiona, Pinky's not addicted to anything," Tara moaned, placing her hand on her forehead.

"Oh, okay," Fiona said. "Rachel, Dash said she wanted to see you."

"Really?" Rachel said in disbelief. "What would Dash need to talk to me about?"

"I'm not really sure," Fiona said. "She just said she wanted to talk to you. I'll walk with you, if you want."

"Thank you," Rachel said happily, before walking to the door. She turned back to Tara. "We'll have to discuss this later."

"Try not to let Dash rot your mind," Tara said as a makeshift farewell. She wasn't sure if she was joking or not, but decided that it wasn't important. The room seemed surprisingly empty once Rachel had left, despite the obvious other presence.

Tara was bored. She really didn't have anything to do for the rest of the day. She supposed she could always see how AJ was doing, but then she would have nothing to talk about with the southern lass. She could possibly try to research on The Unknown, but she knew that in the end, she would find nothing at all. She could try to find Cadence, but her sister-in-law had been inconspicuously absent for the past hour. She briefly considered waking up Pinky, but decided to let her friend get some sleep. However, as she looked at the sleeping girl, her eyes couldn't help but wander to the tiny black journal lying on the ground.

What did she write in there anyway? What could be in there that was so important? Sure, it was probably nothing but ramblings, but then why was it so important to keep to herself?

All of these seemed like valid questions, and it formed an itch in the back of Tara's mind. It was a tantalizing prospect to read through the book before her. Even just one page of information would probably be enough. She knew it was horribly wrong, but it was growing increasingly hard to resist. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to take a quick look. After all, was she not a woman of knowledge, and was the journal not containing important knowledge to be had?

Tara sighed to herself, and then, against all of her moral fiber, she took a seat on Pinky's bunk, picked up the book, and opened it to a random page.

I'm a horrible person, Tara thought to herself as she read the surprisingly neat handwriting on the page.

Dear Journal,

The grumpy man has returned. He looked more grumpy than ever. I heard him and Dad shouting agan. They sounded mean this time. Dad told me that the grumpy man was to sereous, and he did'nt have any imagininateon. He told me to think big, and dream forever. That sounded like fun. Then, Dad and I played this fun game. I was a princess and he was a night to res-

All of a sudden, the book was violently ripped from Tara's grasp. Tara barely had time to react, as she was suddenly grabbed by the collar of her shirt, and thrown forcefully to the ground. She tried to sit up, but was immediately pressed down again. Two hands pinned her shoulders to the floor, and in a sense of terror, Tara looked up, and saw something truly unusual: Pinky angry. In fact, Pinky seemed more than angry. Her face wasn't contorted with rage, she wasn't breathing hard, and she wasn't screaming, yet somehow, it was worse. Her face was blank and cold, and she cast a dead glare into Tara's eyes. With an intensity that Tara had never heard before, Pinky said,

"Never. Look. Through my stuff. Again," Pinky said with ice in her voice. In fact, Pinky's voice was almost unrecognizable. Its pitch was noticeably lower, and it carried with it a serious that made it perfectly clear that Pinky was dead serous with every syllable.

"I'm sorry, Pinky," Tara managed to breath out. "I was just-"

"No excuses," Pinky said forcefully, pushing Tara harder against the floor. "Tell everyone that if I see someone even thinking about that book, I will go to the training room, get a shotgun, and blow their goddamn head off. Am I clear?"

"Pinky, I think you need to calm down a little," Tara said, now very uncomfortable. She had never seen Pinky in such a state. Now that she thought about it, she never even knew Pinky could get angry, let alone be so threatening. "No one is going to look through that book ever again. You have my word."

"Good," Pinky said, standing up to let Tara get off of the floor. Tara stood up, albeit rather cautiously, and brushed herself off.

"So, uh…" Tara said, scratching the back of her head. "We wanted to know how you were feeling."

"Oh," Pinky said. In a flash, she snapped back to her normal self, and spoke incredibly fast. "Well, my head feels all better now, that's good, and I don't feel upset, I mean a little upset, but not really, but actually, while we're talking, I wanted to talk to you about-"

At that moment, Fiona came screeching around the corner, and entered the room. She panted heavily, and rested her hands on her knees. Tara knew instantaneously that something was off, as Fiona's cheek was bright red with blood.

"Come quick!" Fiona said, clearly very worried.

"What's wrong?" Tara asked, her concern growing.

"Just come on!" Fiona said. "It's Rachel! Dash came out of nowhere and… oh god…"

"Fiona, calm down," Tara said, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Explain on the way."

The three girls bolted down the corridors, moving as fast as their legs would take them. They passed by several confused workers, before finally arriving in an almost entirely empty hallway. Once they were there, they were shocked to discover that Rachel was lying on the ground, occasionally twitching, and in severe pain. They rushed to her side, and observed the damage. Rachel was bleeding profusely from her nose, and she was clutching her stomach in agony. By her side was her white cane, which was now splattered with blood. Rachel released soft moans, unable to speak.

"Fiona, what happened to her?" Tara asked.

"We were walking to the storage closest where I was reading my animal book," Fiona explained. "Dash said she wanted to meet us there. But then, we saw her walking down the hallway; we didn't know why. When she got close, she just lost it. She shoved me to the ground, grabbed Rachel's cane, and then started beating her with it. She didn't even know what happened. I tried to get Dash to stop, but she moved too fast, and slapped me across the face. I didn't know what else to do."

"Dash did this?" Tara said, completely surprised.

"I don't know what's wrong with her," Fiona said. "I guess she ran off. Maybe the MACER Device did something to her mind."

"Okay," Tara said, thinking of what to do. She did not doubt Fiona's testimony for a second, which unfortunately meant that she had a major problem on her hands. "You two go get Rachel some medical attention. I'll find AJ, and see if we can track down Dash. She has a lot of things to answer for."

Tara took off running towards the training room. She did not want to fight Dash. Over the past few months, a mutual respect had formed between them, and Dash was almost becoming a nice person. However, if Dash really did attack Rachel and Fiona, then Tara would not hesitate for a moment to bring her down. Tara turned the corner, and in her haste, ran into someone walking in the halls. She continued running past them in determination, before she heard the person speak.

"Jesus, Spark, it's like all you can do is fucking run into people."

Tara did not waste a moment. She slammed her feet down solidly on the floor, and using her momentum, made a full 180 degree turn. In one single motion, her eyes and veins glowed, she shot out her arms, and the next thing Dash knew, she was flying straight into a metal wall, which knocked her out instantly upon collision.

__________

Dash awoke with a nasty pain in the head. She had no sense of how much time had passed, and almost no idea where she was. As far as she could tell, she was sitting at a table in a very dark room. The darkness gave no sense of space, so she did not know how big the room was. Dash tried to get up, but found that she had been handcuffed to the table.

"Um… what the fuck?" Dash said aloud. "Who handcuffed me to a fucking table?"

Suddenly, a door opened up across from Dash, illuminating the room. Dash could see that to her right was a large mirror, which she knew full well had people hiding behind it. From the light came the figure of Celestia holding some files, who calmly walked over, and sat opposite to Dash at the table. A dim light turned on, revealing that Celestia was very serious about something.

"Hello, Rebecca," Celestia spoke.

"Did I do something wrong, officer?" Dash asked in mockery.

"Look, Rebecca, things will go over much more smoothly if you are cooperative," Celestia sighed.

"May I ask what is going on?"

"You know full well what's going on."

"No, I don't," Dash groaned. ""Seriously, I was going to get a fucking cupcake from the mess hall, and next thing I know, I'm being held down and interrogated against my will. I think you got a lot of fucking explaining to do."

"Half an hour ago," Celestia explained. "Rachel was assaulted and beaten harshly. According to Fiona, you walked up to her, committed the act, and then twice hit Fiona as well, before running away."

"I did what now?" Dash said, utterly stunned. "Why would I ever do that?"

"I don't know," Celestia said. "You tell me."

"Look," Dash stated. "I don't know what you think I did, but clearly, we have a totally different idea of what happened."

"Are you trying to state that Fiona, one of the most honest people that we know, is lying?" Celestia asked with great doubt.

"If she said that I decided to attack the immigrant, then yes, I think she's blowing shit out of her ass," Dash shrugged.

"Look, Rebecca, you're not the least suspicious person when it comes to these types of incidents of intense violence," Celestia said, opening one of the files up. "In 2005, you took a pair of safety scissors and stabbed a young boy named Billy Hanson in the leg."

"Fucker was stealing my crayons," Dash joked, although Celestia did not seem to take anything lightheartedly.

"In 2007, in the fifth grade, you were mildly insulted by five girls that were one year older than you," Celestia said, turning the page. "Twelve broken bones in all, including one received by slamming a head repeatedly into the pole of a basketball net."

"They were asking for it," Dash said defensively. "Besides, 'dirty whore' is hardly a mild insult."

"And what about this?" Celestia asked. "In 2010, you were cornered by three men in a robbery. According to this… you castrated them. All of them."

"Hey, if someone tried to molest you when you were thirteen and carried around a hunting knife in your backpack, you would have done the same thing," Dash claimed. "But the thing is, those guys were all pricks. I actually like Rachel to some degree. Yeah, she can be a major bitch sometimes, but never enough for me to try to beat her to death."

"Then how do you suppose she got those injuries?" Celestia asked, very much doubting Dash's words (partially because of Fiona's word, but mostly due to the castrating).

"How would I know?" Dash shrugged. "I was just trying to eat something before dinner. Speaking of which, I am going to get dinner, right?"

From the other side of the one-way mirror, Tara sighed. She AJ, Pinky and Cadence were watching intently, desperately wanting to know the explanation for Dash's attacks. However, it seemed like Dash would hold her resolve, and they probably wouldn't get any answers for the night. Fiona had left to go to read, kindly asking to be left alone, as she claimed to be too distraught with the current predicament to stay. Thankfully, Cadence stayed with Tara and gave her some much needed comforting.

"I just can't believe Dash would do something like that," Tara said, shaking her head.

"I'm sure that there is a good reason for her actions," Cadence reasoned.

"I know," Tara said. "It's just… I thought she changed, you know? I thought she was maturing. I never thought she would attack Rachel like that."

"That's why I don't think she did it," AJ spoke up.

"What do you mean?" Cadence asked, a little too quickly. "Of course she did it. Fiona saw the whole thing."

"Well, I don't got a clue what Fiona saw," AJ stated, looking at Dash hard through the one-way mirror. "But there aint a chance in hell that Dash attacked Rachel."

"What makes you say that?" Tara asked.

"Tara, I've seen my fair share of interrogations," AJ said, adjusting her Stetson. "Plus, we've been living with the girl since October. She aint lying."

"But she has to be lying," Cadence said, subtly growing more nervous.

"Well, let's think about this," AJ said. "Why would Dash just decide to attack one of her friends, when she knew that she would most likely be caught? She loves it here, so why would she jeopardize everything in the past few months just to randomly run up and hit a blind girl. Hell, she didn't even try to hide her identity; she just ran up and hit 'em both in the face, and then left, only to walk back towards the crime scene. It doesn't add up to me."

"But if Dash didn't do it, that would mean Fiona lied," Tara said, although her certainty was questionable.

"Yeah, that's the part I don't get either," AJ shrugged.

"Man, this sucks!" Pinky suddenly shouted. "We can't ask Fiona what really happened because she's asleep, and we can't ask Rachel what happened because she's completely blind. And unconscious. If only we could see inside their heads to see what really went down."

Pinky was too busy complaining to notice that she was now receiving stares of wonder by Tara and AJ, and a glare of shock from Cadence.

"Pinky, you are a genius," Tara said.

"What did I do?" Pinky asked, confused.

"Don't you see?" Tara said. "Since Rachel was attacked, her body created a large amount of adrenaline, which means that, at least for a few moments, she could see what was going on around her. If you can translate her memories, then you can find out what actually happened."

"Oh yeah!" Pinky said with enthusiasm. "I can totally do that!"

"But wouldn't you get a severe headache?" Cadence asked. "Maybe that's not the best idea."

"It's all we got to on, though," AJ stated. "C'mon, ladies. Let's solve us a mystery."

"Yeah, Mystery Inc. all the way!" Pinky shouted with intense glee, before dashing out of the room and to the medical facility. The others soon chased after her, finding that it was rather difficult to keep up at all. Pinky sprinted past several confused men in suits, before practically diving her way into the med bay. She walked straight up to Rachel, who was the room's sole occupant.

Rachel was beaten rather badly by normal standards, although compared to what the British girl had been through before, it was hardly a big deal. She was badly bruised all over her midsection, and her abdomen had been wrapped up with bandages, as was her head. She was drugged to bring her to a state of unconsciousness, and an IV dripped steadily into her arm.

Pinky braced herself for the splitting migraine she was about to receive, and then, without any further hesitation, placed her hand upon Rachel's forehead, just as the others entered the room.

The result was mind-numbing. A series of colors flashed through Pinky's mind in an instant, and it became overwhelming, so much so that she fell backwards onto the floor, clutching her head. She saw brief glimpses of what she assumed to be Rachel's childhood, based on seeing many small children. She saw quick flashes of bedrooms, clothing, boys, and other such things. Then, she witnessed what she assumed to be their battle with the Brothers of Chaos in Russia. In truth, all she saw were many different colors that happened to bear a striking resemblance to her and her friends in combat, but Pinky was quick to make the connection.

Then, she saw when Rachel was attacked in the hallway.

Pinky shook her head violently, trying to shake off the shock of the experience (which was actually growing easier to use each time). She tried her best to focus her thoughts.

"What did ya see?" AJ asked hopefully.

"I saw the attack," Pinky announced, still holding her head.

"And?" Tara asked impatiently.

"Well, I think," Pinky started. "Rachel wasn't attacked by Dash. Actually, I think Fiona attacked her."

"What?!" AJ and Tara said in unison, their surprise unmatched.

"Well, it's weird," Pinky stated. "I saw Rachel walking with someone, and then that person ripped the stick out of her hand, and started to hit her with it. But, it didn't look like Fiona."

"What do you mean, 'it didn't look like Fiona'?" Tara asked, not noticing that Cadence was trying to stealthily back her way out of the room.

"I also saw what Fiona looked like from when we were in Russia," Pinky stated. "She looked yellow-y. But this time, she looked black. Not just that, but it looked like she kept morphing about inside of herself, making this creepy monster woman thing."

"What the hell does that mean?" AJ asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Pinky said, shaking her head once more. "Actually, it's kinda strange. That monster thing looked kinda familiar. I think I saw it before."

"Where?" AJ asked.

"Hmm…" Pinky said, scratching her chin. "Where was it? Was it…no…or… wait… wait, I remember! It looked like the same freaky thing that appeared when I touched-"

Pinky froze, realizing that the room had one less occupant.

"Cadence."

Tara and AJ turned around, and noticed Cadence's absence at once. AJ immediately took off after her, while Tara just remained in stunned silence.

"Pinky… you're not saying that Cadence did this, right?" Tara asked for reassurance. However, Pinky remained quiet. "Right? Right?"

Pinky didn't know what to say. Of course, she wasn't entirely sure herself of what was going on herself, but she was positive that the monster that assaulted Rachel was the same one she saw in Cadence's place. But what could she tell Tara? Tara was horribly distraught by the thought that the person she held most dear was responsible for such a terrible act. Pinky supposed that she could tell Tara she was probably incorrect on her facts, but then she would be lying to her friend. Not to mention that Cadence practically sealed her own fate by running off, so Pinky's word seemed relatively meaningless.

At this moment, Cadence was sprinting as fast as she cold down the corridors. Her cover was blown; it wouldn't be long before she was captured, or killed. She probably could have made a dash for the exit, and make an escape. However, this thought never crossed her mind. She refused to leave Camelot without having accomplished her goal. So, her target in mind was the interrogation room. It didn't matter that she could hear the furious footsteps of AJ chasing behind her. It didn't matter that she heard the constant shouting of commands to stop her in her tracks. All of her thoughts fell on one single idea.

She was going to make Celestia bleed.

Her form did not matter anymore. Either way, she would be hunted down, and as she thought about it, she needed to make sure that Celestia knew who ended her. As she ran, a black substance slowly covered Cadence's skin. It absorbed her fully, and soon, she seemed to be nothing more than a living shadow. A few moments later, when she was only ten feet from her destination, she emerged. Her once pink and yellow hair was dark brown, and only extended to the length of her chin. Her youthful complexion was now more matured, her face giving away the sense that, at once, she was gorgeous, but now, age had made her sag. Granted, she was still beautiful by most standards, but not to the one that she herself held. She wore a black blouse and black dress pants, with a red trench coat over it.

Chrysalis only was briefly happy to be back in her true form. However, she had too much bloodlust to be truly pleased. From within one of the pockets of the coat, she drew a pocket knife, which she held tightly in her hand. As she reached the door, she wasted as little momentum as possible. She leapt in the air, and with one forceful kick, broke down the door. The light entered the room, exposing a very confused Dash and Celestia. It took Celestia a quarter of a second to realize who was standing before her, and once she did, she froze, too horrified to move.

Chrysalis ran at her as fast as she could, drawing back the knife.

"DIE, YOU RANCID BITCH!" Chrysalis screamed, as she plunged the knife down. However, the blade never made contact, as AJ suddenly tackled Chrysalis to the ground, knocking the knife out of her hand. Chrysalis struggled to free herself, but AJ had tightly wrapped her in a submission hold, and she was resisting with less and less force. By this point, Tara and Pinky had showed up, and cautiously walked into the room.

"What the fuck did I miss?" Dash muttered to herself, as Tara walked over, and uncuffed her from the table. As Dash rubbed her sore wrists, Tara couldn't help but notice how utterly stunned Celestia was.

"Celestia, are you okay?" Tara asked. No matter how terrible she was feeling at the moment, there was no doubt that Celestia acted like she had seen a ghost.

"I'm fine," Celestia stated, never taking her eye off of Chrysalis.

"You're losing it, Bridgette," Chrysalis sneered. "Stop letting kids do your dirty work. Fight your own battles, bitch."

"Chairwoman Celestia, do you got any idea who this woman is?" AJ asked, as she held Chrysalis down with relative ease. Celestia sighed, and then regained her composure.

"This… unfortunate creature goes by the name of Chrysalis," Celestia said. "She has the ability to contort her physical form at will. Not only that, but she's responsible for the deaths of forty or so civilians, using her form to pull off assassinations."

"Oh, come on, Bridgette," Chrysalis said with a smirk. "Don't lie to them. You already lie so much…"

"Do you two know each other, or something?" Dash asked. Celestia took a deep breath.

"Chrysalis is just a code name," Celestia said with a frown. "Her real name is Abagail Celestia. She's my sister."

__________

The interrogation process was yielding no results; Chrysalis refused to talk. Several people tried to speak with her, yet through all of the questions, she remained silent. The time she spoke was to demand that Celestia be brought into the room, although this request was always denied. The process had taken hours, and nothing had been gained.

Fiona had been discovered lying numb in a supply closet. She was being delivered medication to help with the pain, although the effects of the nerve toxin could not be undone; she would have to wait another full day before she could move again. Until then, she waited in the med bay, with Pinky as company. Tara would have stayed with her, but felt a duty to watch over Chrysalis. So, she, AJ, and Dash looked through the one-way mirror intently, as another failed attempt of questioning was underway.

"This is fucking boring," Dash commented, resting her head on her knuckles. "It's been two hours. Don't people give away their resolve by this point?"

"Everyone's different," AJ sighed. "From what I've see, these may take days. Hell, she might never even speak at all; depends on how strong-willed she is."

"Can't we waterboard her, or something?" Dash asked. "I thought that was how the U.S. did all of its interrogating with terrorists."

"Not everyone is cool with performing intense acts of violence like you are," Tara said sternly. "Like…. castrating people? Really?"

"What?" Dash said in defense. "They had it coming."

Tara paused for a moment. "How did you get into a college as prestigious as Ymerton again?"

Dash simply responded with a shrug.

The door opened up, and Celestia walked into the room. She appeared to be depressed, or at the very least concerned. She walked straight up to the mirror, and stared at Chrysalis. She seemed deep in thought, although this did not stop Dash from trying to talk to her.

"So… you're sis is pretty fucked up, right?" Dash said.

"Shut it, Dash," Tara scolded.

"No, she's right," Celestia said, never taking her eyes off of her sibling. "Abagail is the black sheep of my family. There's a reason why I try to pretend she's not even related to me."

"Is that why ya never mentioned her before?" AJ asked, crossing her arms. Of the thirteen years that she had known Celestia, she never once heard anything about her family life, except for the fact that she apparently had one.

"Abagail's had a rough life," Celestia stated. "More than anything, thought, she's always hated me."

"Why is that?" Tara asked.

"Plenty of reasons," Celestia said. "Ever since we were children, she detested me. I was going along with what my parents wanted for me; top of the line education and an interest in law and politics. Abagail was more interested in theater and the arts. My parents weren't subtle in showing their favoritism; she's been jealous me ever since. Everything that could have gone right for me went wrong for her. It was sad to watch; I got a master's degree in political science, and she flunked out of art school twice. For every long lasting relationship I had, she lost three. Every single one of my achievements was countered with one of her failures. It must have been infuriating for her."

"So she became an assassin because of that," Tara said, filling in the gaps. "I get it."

"No," Celestia sighed. "She became a monster. I was there when the MACER Device hit her. I don't know how she broke into the research facility, but she somehow got into the testing room. All she wanted was to be better than me; she thought being exposed to the device would give her the chance. I tried to stop it from going off, but she had sealed herself into the room. It was horrifying to watch."

"Hold up," Dash said. "When did you ever help work on the MACER Device?"

"I didn't work on it, technically," Celestia claimed. "But we did supply Dr. Murphy the testing facility. I was just supposed to observe. I had no idea what would happen to her…"

"Shape-shifting doesn't sound so terrible to me," Dash muttered to herself. However, Celestia heard her comment.

"She wasn't cursed with just the ability to change form," Celestia sighed. "The process had a drastic effect on her entire body. She had horrible physical mutations, beyond which I have yet to ever see. She experienced brief lapses of insanity, and had surges of uncontrollable bloodlust. The worst though was the hunger. Abagail…" Celestia paused, having to remember the horrible thought. "…started to have cravings for human flesh."

"No way…" Dash said, not being able to hide her smirk. "You're sister's a cannibal."

"She's responsible for the deaths of many," Celestia sighed. "Every single one of them was found carved and devoured; including my parents."

Dash immediately stopped smiling, as a dreadful silence filled the air. No one wanted to say anything; no apology could be good enough, and no words could carry enough meaning. Tara could only think of how horrible that must have been for the chairwoman; to find out that your family was eaten alive. It made her chilled to the bone.

And then, Tara remembered that her own family was missing.

"Celestia," Tara asked, trying to contain her worries. "I've just been wondering… if your sister was the one that you came in contact with in the Middle East, what happened to the real Cadence?"

Celestia didn't say a word. She bit her bottom lip, and clicked her tongue against her teeth, thinking of what to say.

"Tara, we certainly came into contact with the group Samuel and Cadence were at," Celestia confirmed. "If they thought they sent the real Cadence over, then that probably means… well… you know…"

Tara's face was blank. She stared at Celestia, waiting for the chairwoman to finish. But the rest of the words never came out. They didn't have to. Somehow, Tara knew exactly what Celestia was going to say. She couldn't get a focus on her mind, her thoughts simply bounced about with no beginning and no end, each thought moving instantly to the next without ever finishing itself. It didn't seem real; it didn't feel real. How was it even possible? They had survived so much, so how could they fail? Why would they fail? Didn't they know that she needed them? That without them in her life, everything became more and more meaningless. For every moment she could spare, she thought of them. For every painful concern, she thought of them. For every time she needed guidance, she thought of them. And now, all she could think of was one single, gut-wrenching, evil, wicked revelation.

Her family was dead.

Tara walked towards the door in a trance. She didn't hear the calls of concern form her friends, or their sudden apologizes. Tara didn't remember being asked to stop by Celestia, and she didn't remember AJ trying to hold her in place. She didn't know how she started to move in a sprint, or how she swiped a knife away from a passing soldier. Tara didn't understand how she managed to slip into the interrogation room when the interrogators were out, and how she slammed the door behind her. She barely registered Chrysalis' huge grin of amusement as she took one of the chairs, and managed to block the door with it, sealing herself in the room.

The next thing Tara realized, she had slammed Chrysalis' head hard into the table, and put a knife to her throat.

"WHERE ARE THEY?!" Tara screamed at her, her voice strained.

"Whoever could you be talking about?" Chrysalis said, her grin unwavering. Her head was slammed into the table again, and she could feel the metal push further into her throat.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?!" Tara repeated even louder, causing Chrysalis to chuckle.

"Such passion, such drive," Chrysalis commented. She sighed. "Ah, if only my sister cared as much about me."

Chrysalis head her head forced down onto the table, and then, with no mercy, Tara impaled Chrysalis in the right shoulder with her knife. Chrysalis hissed at the pain, before Tara removed the blade, and stabbed at the other shoulder.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!" Tara yelled. She banged Chrysalis's head on the table again, this time managing to draw blood. A steady stream of a black-green liquid ran down her forehead, and past her lips. Chrysalis smirked as she licked her lips, tasting her own blood.

"Do you really want to know what happened to them?" Chrysalis asked. "It's not pretty."

"What did you do to them?!" Tara shouted, starting to form tears in her eyes.

"When I got told to take down two special ops soldiers, I honestly didn't think I could do it," Chrysalis said with a sigh. "But when they told me that they were lovers… oh, how easy it all became. See, I waited until the dead of night, when everyone else was asleep…"

BANG BANG BANG

"Tara, open the damn door!" AJ shouted, as she tried to get into the room. However, Tara was far too enraged to listen to her friend.

"See, there was this abandoned house near the base camp," Chrysalis explained, licking her lips again. "So, naturally, the two little fuck-bunnies had to sneak there to satisfy themselves. I waited until it was over, and boy, was it over fast. I pounced on the man first. Managed to take him by surprise and break his legs really easily. The girl put up a better fight, but she was too tangled up in her clothes to do much. I snapped her legs, too, just for good measure."

"Tara, let us in!" AJ shouted even louder, but was met with no response.

"You'll never guess what happened next," Chrysalis said, leaning closer to Tara. She wanted to make sure the girl heard every single detail, no matter how painful it would be to listen to. And, from what she could tell, it seemed to be working, as Tara grew more and more furious as she went on. "The boy starts to beg for his life like a little bitch. But's that not all… he told me to take his wife's life, and spare him. She looked so heartbroken. He started to confess all of his secrets to her. He told her that he had cheated on her with one of the women that he met overseas; he told her that he was only using her for her body, and damn, did it show! I've never seen a girl so sad. So you know what I did next?"

Tara was breathing hard. All she wanted to do was slit Chrysalis's throat.

"I walked over to the boy…"

Tara hated her so much. She couldn't describe the rage she was feeling, except that it was overpowering every other emotion in her body.

"Brought my knife to his throat…"

Chrysalis leaned in even closer now, so that her forehead was almost touching Tara's.

"And I slit his fucking jugular open," Chrysalis hissed. Then, she sighed. "By the way, do you know what part of the human body tastes the best? It's the tongue. It melts in the mouth like butter, but has this really nice fat-like quality to it. Especially raw."

Then, painfully slow, she leaned into Tara's ear, and spoke in a hushed voice.

"And for the record, they tasted wonderful."

CHNK

Chrysalis looked down, and much to her surprise, discovered that the blade had been driven straight through the chains on the handcuffs, therefore releasing her from captivity. However, Chrysalis could hardly celebrate for a moment before she was unceremoniously thrown across the room. She slammed into the mirror hard, and cracked the glass from the impact. Chrysalis tried to fight past the pain and move forward, except by this point, Tara had already grabbed ahold of her shoulders, and pinned her against the table.

"You should have been there," Chrysalis said with a huge grin, swiftly weaving her head to the left to avoid a punch. She didn't seem at all worried about Tara killing her, and instead took advantage of every moment that she could use to make Tara as enraged as possible. "

Chrysalis rolled out from underneath Tara, and then pressed herself against the mirrored wall.

"There's a secret to keeping the meat fresh," Chrysalis hissed, ducking out of the way of another punch. Tara swung wildly, her fists connecting with the glass on several occasions. "You need to cut of each limb on its own; keep the blood pumping to most of the body."

Chrysalis rolled away again, noting how Tara was sloppily trying to land a hit. Her rage had completely consumed her; she had never felt anything else like the bloodlust that was controlling her thoughts. Every time Chrysalis spoke, Tara got an unhealthy desire to rip her tongue out, and silence the wretched creature forever. And, if she were honest with herself, as long as she could get the shape shifter in her grasp, she would attempt to do just that.

"No, wait, I change my mind," Chrysalis said with a laugh, clearly enjoying herself. She leaned herself against the table in a casual manner, acting like the current threat was entirely nonexistent. "The best part of all is hearing them squirm about as you bite into the flesh. To be honest, the most fun ones aren't the screamers. It's the ones who whimper… like your sister."

Chrysalis punctuated her sentence by flashing a toothy grin; her razor sharp teeth glowing in the darkness. She ducked and dodged more blows, as the banging on the door increased exponentially.

"She begged me to stop," Chrysalis laughed. "Even after her right arm was gone, she still thought that I could be reasoned with. If the hunger wasn't so intense, I might have kept her alive for a little while longer, if not just for the steady blood drip."

Tara couldn't take it anymore. Her rage had gotten too far, and she refused to let Chrysalis utter another word. Her eyes and veins glowed, and before Chrysalis could continue her merciless taunting, Tara had used her powers to suspend the shape shifter against the wall. Tara drew Chrysalis back, and then, using as much energy as she could muster, threw the woman into the wall several more times, each impact with more force than the last. Tara had lost all sense of reason by this point; all she wanted was to see Chrysalis suffer. However, Chrysalis understood that she was suddenly in a great amount of danger, as she felt her throat being slowly squeezed by the invisible force. Starting to choke, and barely able to supply herself with enough oxygen to speak, Chrysalis quickly tried to save her own life.

"The Unknown sent me!"

Chrysalis was immediately dropped to the floor. Tara froze; her logic and reasoning momentarily taking control. She thought about it; they had been searching for leads on The Unknown for months, and always came up with nothing. Every other time they got close, something happened that made them lose their information. However, Chrysalis was in the base. She could fill in all of the gaps that were missing, and provide the facts that could take four more months to find. Chrysalis knew this too, and perhaps, just perhaps, she would be willing to provide information in exchange for her life. A golden opportunity was right before Tara, and all she had to do to take it was do nothing. She wanted nothing more than Chrysalis to slowly suffocate against the wall, but all of the rational parts of her mind were telling her to walk away.

Unfortunately, Chrysalis had killed her family, so she wasn't listening to any rationality at this moment.

Chrysalis was flung back against the wall, her hopes of survival quickly fading away, as she felt the life being choked out of her. Tara had given up on everything. She didn't care about the mission anymore. She didn't care about the lives that could be lost if The Unknown wasn't found, and she didn't care about the sacrifices that would have to be made. As far as she was concerned, it was all over from this point on.

However, Tara suddenly felt herself being tackled to the ground, as Dash collided with her, and pinned her to the floor. The door had been burst open, and AJ quickly ran into the room, securing the prisoner, who was currently gasping for breath.

"No!" Tara shouted, as she struggled to move. "Get off of me! Let me have this!"

"Calm it, Spark," Dash commanded, hoisting Tara off of the ground. Dash stood from behind, keeping Tara in a tight grip, so that her arms would be held up against her sides. Tara strained her muscles, but nothing seemed to be working. She kicked and screamed, cried in anguish, but Dash held her tightly, and would not budge. AJ worked on placing another set of handcuffs on Chrysalis, who was currently snickering like mad, occasionally flashing her pointed teeth.

"You can't let her live!" Tara cried out, absolutely hysterical. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and as she was carried out of the room, her anger washed away, and was replaced by sobs. "It's not f-fair! Kill h-her (sob), please! She…(sob) she… she k-killed… she (sob) killed…"

Tara's strength faded away into nothingness. Her rage was no longer present. Instead, it was replaced with a most terrible sorrow, the likes of which burned the soul and stung the heart.

"She killed… she (sob) killed th-… killed (sob) them…" Tara said, her voice hoarse. She spoke softer and softer, until her words barely reached above a whisper. "Oh m-m-my god… oh (sob) my (sob) god… she ki- (sob)… killed them b-b-b-oth. She… she…"

Tara could no longer formulate sentences; everything simply hurt too much. It was an altogether different pain than what she had felt just a few minutes ago. Before, she felt outrage, disbelief, confusion; all trying to tell her that if she could take another human life, then somehow, the problem would resolve itself. But now, she felt despair, loneliness, desolation; agony of the spirit, which forced her back into reality, away from her delusions and distortions of truth.

Her brother was dead. He was never going to come back. She would never again see his pleasant smile, of feel his warm embrace, or hear his throaty laugh. She would never feel the comfort of her sister's presence, or hear her encouraging words, or see her enchanting beauty as long as she lived. They were gone.

They were gone.

Tara had completely broken down in Dash's arms. She constantly mumbled out incoherent thoughts mixed with salty tears and heartbroken sobs. Her breaths were shaky, and Dash was actually finding it more difficult to secure her now than before. Dash didn't know if she should try to comfort her friend. Worse, even if she was supposed to comfort her, she had absolutely no idea how. If there was one thing Dash failed at, it was sentimentality, and that was the one thing she truly needed at this time. With no knowledge of how to help, Dash started to drag Tara's sobbing form towards the medical wing to the rest of her friends. Even if Fiona and Rachel couldn't speak, the rainbow-haired youth hoped that their presence would be enough to lighten Tara's somber mood, if even just a tiny bit.

Pinky was surprised when Dash carried a hysterical Tara into the med bay, and laid her down on one of the beds. She received no context from Dash, who insisted that it was nest not to talk about what the main issue was. Instead, Dash told Pinky to just "be comforting", and sat down on one of the beds opposite to Tara. Rachel was still relatively unconscious, and Fiona' although she could plainly see that Tara was upset, had no means to move at all. In fact, it was almost torturous for her; she was unable to help the person she cared for most in their time of need, when that same person had done so much to support her. Pinky, on the other and, had plenty of ways to cheer Tara up, but doubted that her friend was in the mood to hear them.

AJ entered the med bay, and instantly noticed Tara's sobbing form.

"Aint any of you gonna say nothing?" AJ asked, disapprovingly. She walked over to Tara's bed, and wrapped her arm around the crying girl's shoulder. "She just lost two of her family members. Show some damn sympathy."

"Sympathy's not my thing, AJ," Dash said, lying down on a bed of her own. "I aint a crier."

"Fuck you, Rebecca," AJ scolded, before bringing Tara into a deep hug, and letting her sob into her shoulder. She quietly spoke into Tara's ear. "It's okay, Tara. It's all okay."

"W-w-why?" Tara bawled. "Why (sob) w-would s-s-s-she (sob) d-do th-th-that(sob) t-to me? (sob) W-why d-did th-they have (sob) to d-d-d-d-die?"

Pinky, surprisingly, came over the fastest, and joined in on the group hug.

"It-It's n-n-not (sob) fair," Tara cried. She knew deep down that she sounded like a five-year old, but no matter how hard she tried, she could only sink deeper into her pain and misery. "I w-want them (sob) back. (sob) I n-n-n-need t-them. (sob)"

"It's alright, Tara," AJ whispered. "It'll get better, eventually. I know it's hard to deal with, but it does get easier."

"We just need to take your mind off of it," Pinky suggested. "Ooh, like we can do plenty of fun things tomorrow. It'll get some happy thoughts in your head. Like we can bake, and share stories, and-"

"Pinky, shut up!" Dash yelled. "Jesus, of all the times you can act like a fucking moron, now's the worst possible time."

"Hey, don't insult me!" Pinky said, quite hurt by the insult. "I'm just trying to help! You're just sitting there!"

"Pinky, since you've clearly never experienced hardship, allow me to inform you that you're acting kinda bitchy," Dash said with a sneer.

"Will ya both stop yer bickerin' and focus on what's important here?!" AJ snapped. Pinky and Dash stopped their arguing, and remained in an annoyed silence, listening to Tara's pained sobs fill the room. AJ kept Tara in a tight hug, allowing her friend to let out her cries into her shoulder. As far as AJ knew, she had the most experience with the type of pain Tara was dealing with. She supposed that Tara had it worse though; Tara had always relied on her siblings for guidance during a long and happy eighteen years, while AJ herself could barely remember her parents' faces. Still, AJ remembered that the healing process was long and difficult, and it was best for Tara to go through the stage of acceptance as soon as possible, so that she could move on.

Eventually though, after an hour of tears, Tara built up enough strength to ask is she could be left alone. While Tara was hardly in a stable condition (she stuttered through her words, and stopped twice mid-sentence to let out more sobs), AJ eventually agreed to guide her back to her bed. She had to hold Tara up the entire time, as Tara was shaking horribly in the knees, and seemed to wobble about as she walked.

"Th-thank y-you, AJ (sob)," Tara said in wheeze as she finally entered the sleeping quarters.

"It's no big deal," AJ said, putting on a smile. She carefully helped Tara onto the bed, and then walked back towards the door. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?"

"I j-j-just r-really (sob) w-want to (sob) be left alone," Tara said, holding herself close. AJ sighed, defeated, and started to close the door.

"Okay," AJ said, the door nearly shut. "Just let me know if you need anything. I'll be right here if ya need me."

The door was shut, and Tara was left alone with her own thoughts. She didn't know how long she had spent crying on her bunk. Even though she had so desperately wanted to be alone, she wished that she still had the comfort of her friends around her. Or did she? Tara wasn't entirely sure what she wanted; her mind had become so tangled that any basic sense of understanding became lost in a whirlwind of suffering, never to return. Tara mostly thought of her brother. Many memories passed by, each of them lingering on just long enough to become painful, before being replaced with another reminder of the past.

Tara was full of hate. But who did she hate? The question boggled her thoughts. The obvious thought was to hate Chrysalis. After all, she was the one who had robbed Tara of her family; why should she not be hated? Yet despite this, she couldn't help but feel that her feelings were misdirected. But then, who was to blame? Tara, in her damaged state, could not pinpoint the reason why, but she felt her feelings of anger being focused on her brother. How could she hate him, though? He was her brother. But now, as she thought about it, that was why she hated him. Samuel, despite his promises of always looking after her, abandoned her when she needed him. She was dealing with so many things: the pressure of being leader, the threats that she was constantly put up against, the vast confusion of becoming a Macer. She needed an anchor, something to keep her attached to reality when all else had failed. And yet, her support had left her alone to deal with the constant stress, throwing her life out of balance once again. She knew that, deep down, it wasn't at all fair to blame Samuel for everything. But her emotional balance was in turmoil, and she nothing was certain in her mind.

But no, that wasn't right either. When it all came down to it, she painfully realized that the person she hated more than anyone else was herself. She had failed. She was told from the start that if she joined P.O.N.Y, she would be able to protect her family. She accepted the role of leader to make sure the people she cared about most wouldn't be hurt. But she couldn't save them. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she had gotten close to accomplishing anything, she could never finish the job. Her goal was to prevent The Unknown from hurting people, and that was exactly what he managed to do. He had taken the people she loved away from her. It wasn't right to blame Chrysalis; she was only hired to do a job. She couldn't even hate The Unknown; she could only assume he killed her brother because that would allow Chrysalis to get on the inside.

Really, Tara figured, the only reason the people she cared about lost their lives was because of her.

Knock Knock Knock

"Tara! Are you alright?!" called a surprisingly high-pitched voice. Tara shook herself out of her stupor. She had specifically asked to be alone, and knew that no one would try to visit her. But, out of everyone that could have broken that wish, the last person she expected to do so was Pinky.

"Tara, it's been two hours," Pinky claimed from the other side of the door. Had it really been two hours? It only felt like a few minutes to Tara, but she had been very caught up in her own thoughts. "Look, I know you didn't want anyone to bother you, but I think I can help you."

"Pinky, go away!" Tara yelled, surprised to find that she got the words out much easier than expected.

"Tara, you need a pick-me-up," Pinky said, sounding rather merry.

"Can you please just leave me alone?!" Tara shouted at her, growing frustrated.

"Being alone is only going to make things worse," Pinky said. "Just open the door."

Tara groaned, and then did her best to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes. She hadn't been feeling better at all, and she really did not want human contact at such a fragile time. Tara yanked open the door, and was instantly greeted with a tray of cupcakes being thrust in front of her nose. Pinky smiled quite cheerily, as she explained her actions.

"See, whenever I feel grumpy," Pinky said, waving around the cupcakes as she spoke. "I always try to eat as much sweets as I can. Then, I can stop thinking of the bad things, and think of happy things, like gooey frosting, and yummy sprinkles, and all sorts of neat things!"

Tara didn't know what she was supposed to say. The pain had zapped away all of her appetite, and she wasn't in the mood to try to eat away her worries. She knew the appropriate thing to do was to accept the sugary snacks, and then discard them later. However, she also knew that it was outrageous to think that sugar could possibly make the situation better, and for all of Pinky's shortcomings, this one was rather noticeable.

In fact, Tara felt herself getting mad at the hyper blonde. How dare she even think that Tara could get past her pain in such a ludicrous manner? It was insulting to every memory of family that Tara possessed. Did Pinky really think that the passing of someone so close could be resolved in one short meal? Could she really not comprehend the amount of agony she was in? This had always been a problem with Pinky; she was too childish, too naïve to the problems of the world, and her carefree attitude had worn thin very quickly.

Perhaps it was a cause of the rest of her pent-up rage, but Tara's fury came back in full force, and she couldn't take Pinky's incompetence any longer. With one quick movement of her hand, Tara smacked the tray to the ground, splattering fresh cupcakes along the ground. Pinky seemed shocked, and opened her mouth to say something, before Tara leaned in close and started to scream.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Tara screamed, resulting in Pinky suddenly backing away from her. "Are you really so mind-numbingly stupid that you think fucking cupcakes will make me feel better?! What the hell do you think will happen?! Oh no, wait, you don't think, do you?! You just do whatever the hell fucking pleases you to do, because you're such an idiot that you can't do anything else! You have no idea what I'm going through, and you never will! My brother and sister are dead, you fucking moron!"

As Tara screamed, her eyes started to well with tears, as the painful feelings of regret and loneliness came back full force.

"I don't know what you think the world is like," Tara snapped. "But it can't all be fixed by whatever dumb shit you constantly imagine! And you know what; everyone is sick of it! I can't take it anymore; you just never stop talking about the most useless shit in the world! Just do everyone a favor, and grow the fuck up already! Get a goddamn grip on reality, you motherfucking idiot, and until you do, shut the hell up! Because I, and every other person on Earth, are tired of hearing your bullshit!"

Tara effectively punctuated her screams by slamming the door in Pinky's face, and then walking back to her bunk. She stared up at the ceiling of her bunk, and calmly waited to hear Pinky's footsteps walk away (and, secretly, she hopefully heard she heard some sobs as well). However, those footsteps never came. Instead, she heard a deep sigh into the door.

"I… I know what it's like to lose someone you care about," Pinky said softly, clearly hurt by Tara's cruel words. "I just tried… I'm sorry. I'll go now."

Tara heard the fading footsteps echoing down the hallway. She continued to stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying to force the pathetic images of Pinky crying out of her head. To her, Pinky crying resembled kicking a stranded puppy, and it made her feel terribly bad about her words. In a brief note to self, Tara made sure to try harder on not screaming extremely hurtful words at her friends every time they did something that angered her. If she ended up going crazy on another one of her best friends, she was sure that she would be considered one of the worst people to be associated with. That being said, Tara was quite certain that her words of maturing were accurate in their own right, and it was something Pinky needed to work on.

However, in her mind, perhaps blaming Pinky for such a minor problem wasn't the best thing to do. After all, Pinky was trying to comfort her, in her own special way. Despite the act itself being hurtful, it was somewhat touching to think that Pinky had gone out of her way to make her food, especially since Pinky rarely had the chance to cook anything (although when she did, according to people on the Ymerton campus, it was supposed to be legendary). With a reluctant sigh, Tara sat up on her bed, and tried to find the strength to leave the sleeping quarters.

However, Tara quickly caught sight of something lying on the ground by the doorway: Pinky's journal. It seemed that Pinky had slipped the book underneath the door right before she left. Tara, very confused, walked over to the book, and picked it up off of the ground, examining it thoroughly. Sure enough, it was the same book which Pinky had been so determined to make sure no one ever read.

Except now, Pinky wanted Tara to read it.

With a bizarre sense of wonder and curiosity, Tara sat back down on her bunk, and opened the journal to the first page.

Celestia stared hard at the glass, completely alone. Her sister, who at one point in her life had been cherished dearly, was sitting quietly in the chair; her hands cuffed firmly do the desk. How had it all come to this? What could have happened to make her the monster she was today? Celestia knew of a memory, one that she held close to her heart, and always appreciated.

It was a memory of a much simpler time in her life. She had only been alive for less than a decade, and Abagail was just two years younger than her. She recalled an incident where she and Abagail were tossing a big, squishy ball back and forth; it was purple, if she remembered correctly. It was a sunny day, and she remembered being surrounded by plenty of grass and exactly five trees. Her play session with her sister was going wonderfully, until, quite by accident, she had thrown the ball far too hard, and it struck Abagail square on the nose, making the younger sibling burst into tears. It wasn't the pain that was so pleasant, however; it was how she managed to make her sister feel better. She had cleverly come up with a short tune that was all about butterflies, and she taught it to her sobbing sister within a matter of moments. The song only lasted twenty seconds, but after repeating it twice, Abagail started laughing greatly, and tackled her sister to the ground in a playful manner. The rest of the day was spent rolling in the grass and singing the song about butterflies.

Where had all that childlike wonder gone? All that was left in its place was disgust and hatred. The tune of the butterfly song remained somewhere in Celestia's subconscious, but the words had been forever lost. It wasn't as if Celestia did not desire change; if given the chance, she would reconcile with Abagail in a moment's notice. But it seemed like Abagail wasn't around anymore; Chrysalis was all that remained. It was a sad thought indeed; the person who she greatly cared for was permanently replaced with the vile creature who murdered her parents.

However, these thoughts were quickly brushed aside when Celestia heard quick footsteps moving behind her.

"What do you think you're doing, Rebecca?" Celestia said without turning away from her sibling. She heard an obscenity get muttered, and then she heard Dash fumble about her words.

"You know," Dash said, casually entering the room. "I was just… gonna go get some dinner."

"It's almost midnight," Celestia stated. "You still have to wake up at five o'clock, don't you? Or did Tara extend the sleeping hours again?"

"No, she still makes us wake up early… ma'am," Dash said, annoyed. "But you're right; I should probably get back to bed. Sleep well."

"Hold it," Celestia ordered, noticing that Dash was trying to sneak her way out of the room as fast as possible. Dash groaned, and stopped in her tracks. "Rebecca, are you sure that you were just going to get food?"

"Yeah…" Dash said, albeit somewhat nervously. "Why you ask?"

"I spent two years studying human psychology, Rebecca," Celestia said, still facing towards the one-way mirror. "Don't lie to me. I'll know."

Dash let out a nervous laugh.

"What? Who's lying?" Dash said. "I'm not lying. That would be ridiculous. Why would I lie about what I'm doing?"

"You know, I might be judging you wrong here," Celestia stated. "But I just have this sneaking suspicion that you're trying to break into the interrogation room."

Dash gulped.

"Bullshit," Dash stated. "There's no reason to do that…"

"Well, I was just assuming that you were trying to make Tara feel better," Celestia stated. "But since you're not good with handling things on an emotional level, you'd revert to extreme acts of violence, which you're actually good at. Then, you would be able to tell Tara that you made my sister suffer as punishment for the damaged that she caused, and then Tara might cheer up. Am I right?"

"Fuck no!" Dash shouted, a little too quickly. "That's way too much time to put into making that bitch happy. I wouldn't waste my time making Spark feel better! Besides, that sounds kinda gay."

Celestia sighed.

"You're a good friend, Rebecca," Celestia said, smirking to herself. Dash scoffed.

"Yeah, whatever, you fucking looney-bin. No offense," she said, trying to leave the room. "I gotta go now. Lots of shit to do tomorrow."

Celestia heard Dash's footsteps fade away. She turned back towards the door, checking to make sure the rainbow-haired girl had left earshot. Of the many unexpected things Dash had done over the past several months, Celestia was pleased that, at least for once, she was surprised by something rather good. Celestia smirked again, as she turned back towards the one-way mirror.

And was immediately greeted with the sight of a fist flying towards the glass.

CRASH

Chrysalis's arm punched straight through the mirror, and grabbed on to the collar of Celestia's shirt, taking her by surprise. With a powerful tug, Celestia was yanked through the hole in the wall, which was covered with broken glass, and was slammed into the desk.

"Got you now!" Chrysalis screamed, as she attempted to bring her hand down upon Celestia's head. The normal flesh was gone, and in its place was a black, scaly claw, with long fingers and sharp nails. Celestia managed to roll out of the way just in time, as the sharp claws slashed against the table. Celestia rolled to the corner of the room, and stayed on her knees, trying desperately to catch her breath. Chrysalis, with a laugh, took the chair from the table, and used it to wedge the door shut, locking herself and Celestia in the room.

"I think you need to check the cuffs around here, sis," Chrysalis said with a smirk. "Mine were a little busted."

"What do you plan to do?" Celestia challenged. "Bring down this whole operation? Take out the girls?"

"You know, I really don't care anymore," Chrysalis said. "Fuck The Unknown and his plans. I don't care about them. Nothing but your imminent death is going to satisfy me."

"You'll never make it out of here alive," Celestia said, slowly rising to her feet.

"So what if I don't?" Chrysalis said. "That's a secondary concern. As long as I see you bleed, it'll be good enough for my life. No wait, I take it back; I want your flesh, too."

"Abagail, you don't have to do this!" Celestia tried to reason with her sibling. However, the cocky smile that Chrysalis wore instantly vanished, and was replaced with a sinister scowl.

"Yes, I do!" Chrysalis said. Suddenly, a black substance started to form over Chrysalis's body, running up from the soles of her shoes, and making its way towards her head. "It not fair! It was never fair! You were always better than me at everything! 'Isn't Bridgette so wonderful? Why can't you be more like your sister?' My sister is a cruel, heartless bitch who cares for no one other than herself! No more!"

The black substance completely covered Chrysalis's body by this point, cocooning her in a thick, gooey web.

"Abagail, you can change!" Celestia begged. "We can change; make things like they used to be!"

Suddenly, the cocoon burst open, and dissipated into a black fog. The creature standing before Celestia was almost too horrible for her to look at. The being resembled a human woman, yet it was completely naked, except for a thick covering of dark black scales, which covered its entire body. It had long claws in place of its hands, and arched feet; both of which had long, sharp nails at the end. Black dorsal fins stuck several inches out of its elbows and the back of its calves, and they were highly sharpened. The creatures face bore a remarkable similarity to Abagail's, but it was hardly human. It had short, white hair, which extended just past the chin. Its eyes were two glowing red spheres, and in its twisted lips was a pair of lengthened sharpened teeth.

"Abagail is dead!" Chrysalis shouted, her voice snake-like in her true form. She bent back on her animal like legs, and lunged at Celestia, forcing her to roll towards the other end of the room.

"IT'S CHRYSALIS!"

Chrysalis swiped her claws at Celestia several times, each time nearly landing a fatal blow. Celestia found herself very fortunate that her parents had made her take self-defense as a child, for it was the only thing keeping her alive. Chrysalis attacked with bloodlust; her rage had consumed her, and she kept letting off horrible screeching noises, which sounded more animal than woman. Celestia, however, could not keep up her fortune for long, as she was being forcibly backed up into the wall. Chrysalis swept low with her claws, forcing Celestia to jump backwards into the wall itself, trapping her. With no other option, Celestia reluctantly ducked Chrysalis's next swipe, and punched her sister in the face. The last thing she wanted was to fight, but she didn't have any other choice. She knew full well that she stood no match for her sister, and she would barely be able to survive for another minute.

Chrysalis was knocked to the ground from the blow, but was it only intensified her rage. With a growl, she grabbed onto Celestia's shirt again, and threw her back onto the table. Chrysalis leapt into the air, and tried to deliver a devastating punch to Celestia's midsection. However, the elder sister rolled away again, resulting n Chrysalis's fist penetrating right through the wooden table. Her arm became lodged, and in a panic, Chrysalis attempted to free herself. However, Celestia took advantage of this handicap, and went on the offensive. She delivered her fair share of punches, all of which Chrysalis was barely able to block with one arm. Celestia was able to land three different punches to the head, and an extra one to her sister's stomach. However, the scales which fully covered her body were not just hard to the touch, but resilient to pain as well, leading Celestia to do much more damage to her own hands than to Chrysalis herself.

After a painful stinging in the knuckles, Celestia backed away from her sister, and backed away towards the wall opposite to the broken mirror. However, Chrysalis saw her chance to finish her fight, and wasted no time in taking the opportunity by storm. Chrysalis, in a feat of athleticism, took her right foot, and rested it atop the table. Then, using the extra leverage, she yanked her arm free, and then, in the same instant, used her leg to launch herself backwards towards Celestia. With a quick slash of her right arm, the dorsal fin slid across Celestia's shoulder, cutting deep and drawing blood.

And then, without wasting a moment, Chrysalis lunged forward, and dug her claws deep into Celestia's stomach.

Celestia screamed in agony as she felt the claws dig deep into her midsection. The force of the impact drove her back against the wall, and she started to slide down it, feeling her energy draining away. Chrysalis was extremely pleased; she was knuckle-deep inside of her sister's abdomen, and she could feel the warm blood dripping down her hand. It was such a satisfying experience, and Chrysalis wanted to make sure that it lasted. She flexed her digits inside of Celestia, forcing the chairwoman to cry out in more pain. Chrysalis leaned close into Celestia's ear, and started to laugh.

"Isn't this beautiful?" Chrysalis hissed. "It just feels so natural; you're 'perfect' blood running out of your body, and it's all because of me. This is for everything you've done to me. All of the lies, the bragging, the putdowns, the wasted opportunities; this is getting even for all of it."

Chrysalis licked her lips, and then, very slowly, licked the exposed base of Celestia's neck.

"Now… I wonder if you'll taste as good as mom did?"

SHLK

The breath was knocked right out of Chrysalis's chest, as a katana blade was thrust through her back, and penetrated through her lung. Tara recoiled in disgust as a dark green fluid began pouring from Chrysalis's wound. She was quite careful in the process, trying her best to make sure that Celestia wasn't further injured by accident. However, as a result, Chrysalis still found enough energy to turn around, and attempted to slash at Tara's throat.

The plan, however, didn't come to life. Tara, her eyes glowing, waved her arm, and sent Chrysalis flying to the other side of the room. Chrysalis flew off of the sword, but found no relief, as she immediately landed in the remains of the broken mirror, and was impaled by five separate pieces of broken glass. She gurgled on her own blood, feeling her life draining away. Suddenly, survival became her primary goal; she knew Celestia would bleed out soon, and, despite saying so herself, she had no intention of dying yet. As such, using the rest of her energy, Chrysalis peeled herself off of the broken glass which had impaled deep into her midsection, dove through the open space in the wall, and ran off down one of the corridors.

Tara desperately wanted to chase after her, but focused on her priorities. She quickly knelt by Celestia, who was holding onto her stomach; her shirt had been stained with her own blood.

"Celestia, I heard the screams. Are you okay?!" Tara said, extremely panicked.

"What are you doing?" Celestia said angrily. "Go after her!"

"We need to get you help!" Tara said, examining the blood. She tried to lift Celestia's shirt to look at the wound, but Celestia suddenly grabbed onto her arm, and stared into her eyes.

"GO!" Celestia commanded. Tara, still panicked over Celestia's health, took a reluctant sigh, and sprinted off after Chrysalis. Once Celestia was sure that Tara had gone away, she leaned her head back against the wall, and took a deep breath. She winced in pain, and then, very slowly, lifted up her shirt to examine the wound.

However, the wound was no longer there; it had completely healed, and if someone didn't know she had been injured, they never would have been able to tell any difference whatsoever.

Meanwhile, Tara was cautiously following Chrysalis's tracks. It wasn't particularly difficult; a smear of dark green blood covered the walls and the floor. Still, Tara kept her sword at the ready, on the chance that Chrysalis could have been setting a trap. However, Tara never encountered any sort of surprise as she walked down the halls of Camelot. Instead, she encountered no one at all. It happened to be rather unfortunate that, as far as she knew, none of the other girls were going to come to her rescue, as she was the only one who was actually close by to hear the screams.

Finally, after sixty tense seconds of tracking, Tara reached the end of the bloody trail. A bloody handprint was smeared onto the door of the training room, and moving very slowly, Tara entered the area. The training room itself was like it always was; nothing gave the indication of another presence. Worse than that, it was quiet; far too quiet. Tara cautiously walked along the wall, searching for any sign of life. She walked past the seats and the guns, but found nothing. She walked through the shooting range, and past the cardboard cutouts used for targets; still, everything remained silent.

Suddenly, Chrysalis lashed out from behind one of the cutouts, and tackled Tara to the ground. The katana flew out of Tara's grip, and skid across the floor. Chrysalis straddled Tara's waste, and tried to bite down on Tara's throat. Tara could see that Chrysalis had many stab wounds across her entire midsection, and she was bleeding heavily. Yet, despite having her strength drained out of her, the shape shifter nearly got a hold of her prey. Tara tried to keep Chrysalis away by pushing at her collarbone, but the woman remained just two inches above her face.

However, Tara, in desperation, managed to find her much needed energy, and managed to shove Chrysalis off of her. Tara quickly got to her feet, and made a mad dash towards her weapon. But Chrysalis recovered fast, and soon managed to wrap her arms around Tara's head, keeping her in a choke hold. Tara furiously tried to shove Chrysalis off, but she couldn't angle her arms around the back of her head correctly, and her attempts were futile. Chrysalis took advantage of Tara's inability to act, and when Tara attempted to struggled again, she leant her head forward, and bit into Tara's left arm. Tara screamed in pain, as the sudden flow of blood gave her enough of a rush to effectively flip the horrific woman over her head, and send her to the floor.

Tara wasted no time. She rolled directly onto her sword, and in one fluid motion, landed on her feet with the blade at the ready. Chrysalis was panting hard on the floor. She knew she didn't have much time left to survive. The only chance she had now was to feed on someone, and then hopefully escape from the base. However, Tara would not let her defenses down, and even with her left arm being coated in a sheet of red, the youth had plenty of fight left in her.

But then, Chrysalis got a fantastic idea.

She sprang to her feet, and made one final charge towards the teenager. Tara thrust her sword towards the charging woman, but she was able to duck the blade, and wrap around Tara's back. Tara, refusing to be bitten again, used Chrysalis's momentum to her advantage, and in a complex series of turns, managed to throw Chrysalis off of her back. The elder woman went flying directly into the cardboard cutout, and crashed through it, falling to the floor out of Tara's view. Tara sprinted over to the cutout as fast as possible, and drew back her sword for one final finishing blow.

"WAIT!" Chrysalis shouted, suddenly holding out one hand in defense. However, it wasn't Chrysalis anymore; it was Cadence. Tara froze in place, her mouth agape.

"Please, Tara, it's me," Cadence begged. Tara could see that she was clearly in pain from multiple stab wounds across her body. In fact, Cadence seemed to be on the verge of tears, as she begged for her life. "You wouldn't hurt your sister, now, would you?"

It's not her! Tara's mind screamed at her. Cadence is gone! Kill her!

"Please, Tara," Cadence begged, with water in her eyes. "I don't want to die…"

Tara didn't know what to do. This wasn't Cadence. She knew this wasn't Cadence. She knew that she was standing before a monster; a being so foul and vile that it shook her to her very core. But she couldn't kill her. No matter how many times she told herself that what she was seeing was a lie, she couldn't push forward. How could she possibly be expected to kill her sister? A person that she loved throughout her entire life? It was an impossible task to ask of her, and it didn't matter what happened before; she refused to let Cadence die.

However, from the opposite perspective, there was absolutely no remorse. With a quick flash of her sharp teeth, Chrysalis sprang forth from the ground, and launched her claws towards Tara's throat.

BANG

A bullet suddenly whizzed through the air, and instantly struck Chrysalis in the throat, sending her flying back into the wall. Chrysalis gurgled and choked as she slid down the wall with her hands on her throat, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. But it was no use; her act was drawing to a close, and the final curtain was closing on her life. Her form diverted back to its true state; her young complexion replaced with the face of a monster, her pink and yellow hair turning short and white, her hazel eyes morphing into red orbs. Tara stood frozen as she watched Chrysalis painfully struggle for her life, unable to look away.

Chrysalis tried to say something, but was unable; her throat was clogged with her own blood, which was pouring out of her lips in a steady, dark green stream. With one final choking gasp, Chrysalis stopped moving, and her body became limp; her life had come to a close.

From across the room, all Pinky could do was stare as well, the gun still extended towards the target. After a few seconds, she noticed that Tara remained completely still. Dropping her gun to the floor, Pinky ran over to her friend, and placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Tara, are you okay?" Pinky asked concerned. Tara gave a slight nod of the head. Her face was calm, emotionless, collected; however, her eyes told a different story. She had tears welling up in them, and they gave an unmistakable look of pain and sadness.

Pinky opened her mouth to say something else, but was cut off instantly when Tara pulled her into a tight hug, and started to cry into her shoulder. She didn't know how long she stood there with her friend, but it didn't matter. Her friend was in shock, and she was there to help.

And so, they stood there together in a kind embrace, in front of the remains of a being who could never understand kindness to begin with.

__________

February 20th, 2016

Celestia had been treated for wounds. Apparently, she had been to the med bay late at night when the others were asleep, and was provided with the proper care and medical attention. As for the others, their wounds were healing. Rachel was awake and talking, and was said to be able to move again within another day. Fiona herself was up and about, reading her book once more (although in a much more public setting than before). As for Tara's wounds, she didn't seem to mind too much, although she was so antisocial that barely any of the other girls had time to talk about it.

That being said, Pinky was rather confident that Tara was feeling well; that would, of course, be the happier thing to think. And so, that was what she wrote down in her journal. It was the first time she had written in her journal in many years, and considering how her final entry was so bleak, she figured that she might as well start everything off nice and fresh. However, it required a great deal of concentration to do so, and so she had asked to be isolated in the lonely closest at the end of the base. However, it did not seem lonely; in fact, it had a rather homey quality to it. All in all, it was a nice place to be.

Knock Knock

However, that did not prevent someone from interrupting her. With a groan of annoyance, Pinky sat up from the floor, put the book down on the shelf, and opened the door. Immediately, she was met with a chocolate cupcake being thrust in front of her face by a heavily bandaged arm.

"Hey, Pinky," Tara said, slightly embarrassed. "I, uh, know you wanted to be alone, but, well, I felt like this need to be done."

"You… you baked me a cupcake?" Pinky said, very flattered.

"Yeah, I looked up a recipe online, and-" Tara started to say, before Pinky ripped the cupcake from her grasp, and took a large bite into the vanilla frosting.

"Pretty good!" Pinky said happily through a mouthful of cupcake.

"Yeah, well, that's kinda a 'thank you' cupcake," Tara admitted. "Since you saved my life and all. And, well, I guess it's also an 'apology' cupcake, too, for all of the nasty things I said yesterday."

"It's cool," Pinky said, taking another bite of her sugary sweet. Tara, for a first-time cupcake maker, had done a fairly swell job, as far as Pinky was concerned. However, in her opinion, the frosting to cupcake ratio was completely off, with far too much cupcake to frosting.

"I'm sorry about your dad," Tara suddenly said, making Pinky nearly choke on her food. She quickly swallowed the rest of her food, and dropped her smile.

"Uh, yeah," Pinky said, somberly. She wasn't exactly sure what to say about this; no one had ever even known anything about it before. "Thanks. It, uh, means a lot. So… how are you holding up?"

"Better," Tara said, softly. "It'll take time, but I think I'll be okay. It's just another thing I have to overcome, I guess."

"Well, if you ever need to talk to someone," Pinky said. "I'll be right here."

"Thanks," Tara said with a smile. "I'm gonna go now; hope you enjoy the cupcake."

"I will," Pinky said happily, closing the door. "Bye, Tara."

"Bye," came the response, as the door was shut. Pinky took a seat on the ground, and took another bite into her cupcake. However not ten seconds later, the door was pushed open, and Tara poked her head through.

"Uh, this may sound weird," Tara said uncomfortably. "But… uh… just to clarify things… you're not, by any chance, a cocaine addict, right?"

"What's cocaine?"

"I thought so," Tara said with a smirk, closing the door again.

Briefly confused by the interruption, Pinky shrugged it off, and continued eating her cupcake. She took another bite, and enjoyed the time she had sitting in the closet. After all, compared to her life years ago, and all of the struggles she had to deal with, life now was practically a piece of cake.

__________

To my journal,

This is it. I can't write anymore in this thing. Every time I look at it, I see how naïve I was, and how completely stupid I was to think everything was okay. How did I not see it coming? How was I so full of shit that I didn't see it coming? It's just not fair anymore. He's gone. He's gone and I hate it. They took him from me, and I hate it. I'm feeling more alone than I've ever felt before in my life, and I fucking hate it. I don't want to get up out of bed, I just want to cry. I just him back, but I can't have it. And that's really stupid, and not fair in any way. But you know what? I'm gonna make the best of this. Dad told me never to stop laughing, or give up happiness in the worst of times. So I won't. I'll smile, and laugh, and do all of the things young girls are supposed to do. It might kill me on the inside, and I know it will, but I won't break apart Dad's dreams. I refuse to. So this is it. No more writing. No more dark temptations. This is the end of my old life, and the start of my new one. It's time to bury the hatchet. Good bye.

-Patricia Patrikson, for the final time

End of Chapter 8

Chapter 9: The Golden Man (The Great Nation of Hypocrisy)

Chapter 9: The Golden Man

Part 1 of 2: The Great Nation of Hypocrisy

March 10th, 2016

Tara was startled out of her nightmare by a rather sudden flash. She nearly sat upright and banged her head on the ceiling of her bunk, but managed to stop herself at the last minute. She breathed heavily, looking around the dark room in a panic. However, nothing was out of the ordinary. She was still in the middle bunk on the left wall, with Pinky murmuring in her sleep from above, and AJ resting comfortably below. Tara regained her composure, and lied further back on her pillow, trying to lull herself back into her dreams.

But every time she closed her eyes, she only saw sharp fangs dripping with blood, and people begging for their lives. She knew it would be impossible to return to sleep, for the nightmare would haunt her again. She was trying her hardest to cope with the loss, but it becoming unbearable. Every waking moment, she felt nothing but emptiness. It was nearly three weeks since she discovered that Cadence and Samuel had died, but nothing was getting better. She expected this, of course; she knew the healing process would be long and grueling. Yet despite the constant talks with her friends, and the tasks to occupy her thoughts, she just kept falling down the vast pit of despair.

Tara rolled over to face the bunks opposite to her. Her plan was simple: talk to Fiona. If Tara was to be completely honest with herself, talking to Fiona about such personal matters was jarring. It was a combination of things that made it this way. However, the primary problem was not just that she was opening up most of her deepest thoughts to her friend; it was that that friend happened to have a crush on her (which, despite Fiona's constant reassurance that it was stupid wishful thinking, and therefore just a phase, Tara was almost positive that Fiona still harbored strong romantic feelings).

But despite this, speaking to Fiona about such problems was very much relieving, and rather simplistic to accomplish. Fiona would never lie to her about her opinions on such matters, and acted in a very sweet manner about everything, no matter how emotional Tara got at times. On top of this, Fiona happened to get very little sleep during the nights, so she was always awake and ready to talk whenever Tara awoke in the middle of the night. No one ever heard them during this time, and Tara felt no pressure of being judged or embarrassed, so the process continued for many days.

However, as Tara opened her mouth to say something, she noticed with shock something incredibly rare in the base of Camelot: Fiona was sleeping soundly. Tara groaned to herself. She couldn't possibly force Fiona to get up so that she could listen to her rattle on about her nightmares, and rob the shy girl of the very little sleep she was able to achieve. She may have done several harsh things in her life, but she would never stoop to that level.

So instead, Tara carefully swung her legs over the side of the bunk, hopped to the ground, and tiptoed out of the room. The halls of Camelot were dark and abandoned, but Tara didn't feel afraid. The place was practically home to her, and it was probably one of the safest places on Earth to be in. But it was loneliness that affected Tara so badly. There was no one to talk to, and so, she had to deal with everything herself for the next few hours. But how would she pass the time? The answer came to her as she reached a dead-end in the halls. Making a one hundred and eighty-degree turn, she went to the training room, and decided that it would be best to train herself for any future assignments to come.

Tara entered the pitch black chamber, and flipped on the lights. The room filled with light, as Tara quickly covered her eyes with her hands, and rubbed them viciously. Everything was just as she had left it; the guns were stocked with ammunition, the cardboard cutouts had been replaced, and the track had been scrubbed clean. Tara, still partially blinded, made her way over to the wall, where her sword was suspended in its beautiful casing. Tara stumbled briefly on her way to the sword, and then rubbed her eyes more to clear up her vision. However, she was suddenly interrupted by a southern voice.

"Tara, what the hell are ya doin'?" AJ called out, making Tara jump out of her skin in shock. Tara yelped, and then allowed her eyes to scan the room. AJ was still in her pajamas as she sat on the edge of the pool, waving her feet about in the cool water. Her hair was loose and messy, her clothes were bunched up, and she wasn't even wearing her prized hat at the time. Tara soon realized that, clearly, AJ did not expect any other company.

"Jeez, AJ, you scared me," Tara said, trying to regain her composure.

"Let me guess," AJ said, not seeming to take any offense to the sudden intrusion. "Ya couldn't sleep either?"

"Yeah," Tara said, scratching the back of her head. "I… just needed to take my mind off of things."

"Ya wanna talk about it?" AJ asked, motioning Tara to sit beside her. Tara sighed, and calmly walked over to the pool. She dipped her legs into the water, which felt very soothing to her.

"I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks," Tara mentioned, gazing off into the ripples she was causing in the water.

"Losing someone close will do that to ya," AJ sighed. "Trust me, yer gonna have nightmares for a while."

"But it does actually get better, right?" Tara asked hopefully.

"Sure it does," AJ responded. "I mean, you're gonna have a hard time thinking about it now, but when ya get older, you'll only remember everything that was pleasant."

"Is that what happened to you?" Tara asked. AJ didn't say anything, making Tara feel instantly bad. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to be intrusive."

"No, it's alright," AJ said with a smirk. "To be honest, I barely remember my life before I came here. I know I had a family, and I know what their faces looked like, but aside from that, Mac was all the family I ever really had."

"Who's Mac?" Tara asked, confused.

"I'll tell ya about it later," AJ said, rising from the floor. She offered a hand, which Tara took, hoisting her off of the ground. "Now, ya said ya wanted to train. So, we might as well get some time in while we're at it."

"Alright," Tara said, following AJ to an empty part of the training room. However, AJ looked confused by her friend's actions.

"What are ya doin'?" AJ asked. "Get yer sword. We're gonna spar."

"Wait, what?" Tara asked, surprised. "You want me to use my sword against you? Without a weapon?"

"Yep," AJ said simply.

"But, what if hurt you?" Tara said, growing concerned by AJ's seemingly thoughtless actions.

"Tara, you're forgetting something," AJ replied with a smirk. "No matter how many fancy tricks you can do with yer little sword, I can do ten times more with my bare hands. Really, I'm being unfair to you. If ya want a real fight, grab a gun."

Tara had no idea why she didn't object further. After all, AJ wasn't known for having the best foresight in the world, and had a tendency to make incredibly poor and rushed decisions. However, that unmistakable air of confidence came about once more, which made Tara feel extremely confident in her friend's judgment. So, without any further conversation, Tara turned towards the wall, and extended her arms. The sword case rumbled on its shelf for a moment, before flying off towards Tara's outstretched arms. She expertly caught the casing, placed it on the ground, took out the sheath, and unveiled the katana.

"I think ya might be getting better with your powers," AJ said sarcastically.

"I've been training to get things out of my mind," Tara admitted, taking a fighting stance. "Practicing moving things around has taken up the majority of my time."

"How well ya think that's gonna help you in this fight?" AJ said, putting up her hands in defense.

"We'll see," Tara said with a smirk. The two girls circled each other, each waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. So far, Tara was actually having a good time; her concerns were placed in the back of her mind, as she focused on what line of banter to spout next. AJ kept low to the ground, biding her time for Tara to make the first move. For several minutes, the dance continued in dense silence.

Then, Tara lunged.

__________

"How did you bruise your shoulder so badly?" Fiona asked again, massaging the black and blue flesh.

"Me and AJ had a sparring match last night," Tara said with a groan. She and Fiona sat side-by-side in the training room, watching Dash race AJ around the track. Tara winced in pain as Fiona continued to tenderly rub her shoulder, trying to soothe away the pain.

"Your entire arm is bruised up. So are your legs," Fiona commented, concerned. "What did she do to you?"

"A lot of flips and grapples. Ow! Not there!" Tara yelped as Fiona applied pressure to her bruised left shin.

"Why were you fighting her?" Fiona asked, examining Tara's injuries further.

"I woke up last night, and needed to get my mind off of things," Tara claimed.

"You know," Fiona said. "You could have just talked to me about it."

"You were asleep, and you're never asleep," Tara said, wincing again. "Besides, I actually learned some new things last night."

"But your all sore now," Fiona said back. "You could hardly put any of those new things to use."

"Don't judge me," Tara said, teasingly. Fiona sighed happily, and went back to examining Tara's right knee, which was starting to show signs of swelling. Meanwhile, Dash managed to defeat AJ in the race around the track, despite giving AJ a several second head start.

"I am the winner!" Dash shouted in victory, thrusting her hands in the air. "All of those before me must bow and suck my giant cock of supremacy!"

"The only reason ya won was because ya cheated," AJ said, annoyed.

"That's bullshit; I win!" Dash said, shrugging of AJ's claims.

"I'm serious," AJ said. "Ya gave yourself a speed boost right at the very end of the race. I saw it with my own eyes."

"Prove it, bitch," Dash said, suddenly getting defensive.

"Okay then," said AJ with a smirk of confidence. She pointed at Dash's forehead. "You're sweating."

It was true; a thin sheet of sweat was glossed over Dash's skin, and, on top of this, she also seemed to be out of breath.

"Fuck you," Dash snapped. In a mocking tone, she put on her best southern accent (which, in actuality, was not very good). "Look at Dash! She's sweatin' more than a rabbit in a barrel of hot sauce. She must be cheatin', cuz I'm a southern bell, and I'm always right."

"I don't sound like that," AJ said, offended. "No one from anywhere sounds like that. Secondly, ya did too cheat. Ya said no powers, and ya used powers. That's cheatin'."

"Could you two find something else to be pointlessly talking about?" Tara called out. The two girls stopped bickering with each other, and begrudgingly walked towards opposite ends of the training room. Dash walked over to the shooting range to let off some steam, while AJ marched out of the room to get herself a beverage. However, on the way out the door, she was nearly knocked over a very excited Pinky, who practically bounced her way throughout the room.

"WE'RE GOING ON A VACATION!" Pinky promptly declared, skipping about merrily. In her hands was a yellow pamphlet, which Pinky held close ot her chest as she jumped about the room.

"Pinky, what are you talking about?" Dash asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"Va-caaaa-tion! Va-caaaa-tion!" Pinky sang happily, as Rachel entered into the room.

"Pinky, did you tell them?" Rachel questioned, staring into empty space. "…..she didn't say anything, did she?"

"She's kinda just been…" Tara said, watching Pinky prance around the room. "Celebrating. What's actually going on?"

"WHY AREN"T YOU GUYS MORE EXCITED?!" Pinky shouted in confusion. "WE"RE GOING ON-"

"A mission," Rachel interrupted, walking over towards the seats. She found a seat next to Fiona, and lowered herself down upon it. "An actual assignment, which is something we surely haven't had in a while."

"Like something that the government wants us to do?" Tara asked.

"Yes, for a change," Rachel said with a sigh.

"WHY AREN'T YOU GUYS SCREAMING IN JOY?!" Pinky yelled, almost distraught.

"Would you just tell us where we're going?" Dash asked in frustration. "Stop fucking procrastinating, already."

Pinky groaned, and handed the pamphlet over to Tara, before celebrating once again. Tara's eyes widened in shock.

"This is the Daltenoss Royal Family Estate," Tara said in amazement. Fiona leaned over to see the image in had Tara in such shock. On the pamphlet were several pictures for a tourist site, and displayed exotic scenery. There were three of these in total, each on its own separate page; the first was a large, luscious tropical forest, which stretched on almost endlessly. The second image was of a white-water waterfall, which cascaded over a tall, rocky cliffside. The third image, however, held Tara's attention. It was of a stone castle that resided on the edge of a cliff, looking out over the forest. The castle looked to be hundreds of years old, but had an elegance about it that made it appear timeless. While Fiona was never much for ancient history, she had to admit that the castle itself looked absolutely gorgeous.

"I know, right?" Rachel said happily, never turning her head towards the others. "I mean, I knew that we could go on missions all around the world, but I never thought the Daltenoss' castle would be one of them."

"What the fuck is the Daltenoss' castle?" Dash asked, instantly appearing over Tara's shoulder. "Is that thing supposed to be impressive?"

"Patricia, Rachel, stop running off!" Celestia barged into the room with an annoyed look on her face. "I don't give mission briefings for you to take my things and run off with them."

"Sorry, I couldn't keep track of her," Rachel said hastily, motioning to where Pinky was running about and shouting for joy.

"I don't blame you," Celestia moaned. She turned to the rest of the girls. "New assignment, ladies. The six of you are going to be attending a ball at the Daltenoss Royal Family Estate in northern Vitrumia. Your bags have been packed already, and so has your gear."

"Wow, that's an honor," Fiona said happily.

"That's amazing," Tara said with glee.

"Are you kidding? That's super wonderfully, amazingly, incredibly FANTASTIC!" Pinky shouted while twirling around in a circle. However, counter to all of the excitement, Dash simply stood in place, feeling very confused.

"Does someone who's mildly intelligent wanna tell me what the fuck we're doing and where the fuck we're going?" Dash said with a sneer.

"Dash, don't you remember all that stuff about that massive civil war in Africa that took place a few years ago?" Tara asked. "There was all that violence and bloodshed?"

"You give me too much credit, Spark," Dash said with a sigh.

"Vitrumia was the result of that," Tara stated, recalling the massive controversy over United States involvement that it happened to cause. "They're a small island country off the west coast of Africa, and they have the fifth most natural mineral resources in the world."

"They were called the 'Crystal Empire', remember?" Fiona chimed in. "They're who Brian Hammonick outsourced most of this country's fuel to, because we're close trading partners."

"I don't remember any of that," Dash said truthfully, tapping her temple with her index finger.

"You were there," Tara said with a groan. "There was this whole massive conspiracy you helped uncover, and then we cut off a guy's head."

"Oh yeah, I remember now," Dash said distastefully. "Why do we need to be involved with this again?"

"Because we need you girls to go there," Celestia reminded. "Look, this ball is being held because they are celebrating how Vitrumia has expanded its reach to other nations. WMH Enterprises is going to be there, and since we need help representing the United States, you're going too."

"I'm sorry, but," Dash interrupted. "Aren't we supposed to fight terrorists, and not go on public rep. missions? Why are we even here again?"

"Dash, stop complaining, will you?" Tara said, annoyed. "We spent three months in a tight cabin in the Russian mountains; I, for one, wouldn't mind a fun trip to Vitrumia for once."

"I'm sure it'll all be fine, Dash," Fiona reassured.

"Yeah, stop being so grumpy," Pinky said, placing her hands on her hips. "This is supposed to be fun."

"Actually, this is strict business," Celestia said. "In all honesty, it is crucial that you don't do anything to start an international incident. Hell, the last thing we need is for the world to find out that you were even there. We've arranged a private jet for you to take. You'll be heading out first thing tomorrow. Good luck."

Celestia turned around, and left the room, just as AJ returned while holding a half-full cup of orange juice.

"So, what'd I miss?" AJ asked, taking a sip of her beverage.

"Foreign mission," Tara said simply. "We're going to a formal event in Vitrumia. We need to be on our best behavior."

"Cool," AJ responded, taking another sip of her drink. She walked over to the weights, put her cup to the floor, and started to exercise. The rest of the girls sat about, with the exception of Pinky, who was still extremely hyper and skipping around the track. Suddenly, Dash froze in panic.

"Wait…" she said, absolutely horrified. "Did she just say we had to go to a ball?"

__________

March 12th, 2016

The plane flight was entirely uneventful. While normally the girls would kill for some time without anything life-threatening occurring, they had to admit that fourteen hours of sitting on a jet was not ideal. There was truly very little for them to actually do. They couldn't get any training done, they couldn't practice their powers, and they couldn't remain seated for the whole flight, as their anxiety built up over time. The jet that had been provided for them was, in fact, spectacular, with plenty of room to walk about, a flat-screen television, and two personal stewardesses by the names of Lyra and Bonnie, who always stood by at attention.

However, none of these could keep the girls occupied for such a long period of time, and so, most of their efforts were spent either watching movies, or discussing the nation of Vitrumia.

Vitrumia itself is subject to a lengthy, complex history. A series of violent civil wars erupted in 2009 over a twenty-mile island located off the coast of Angola, which was known to be heavily packed in mineral resources. The island itself, despite mostly being forest, contained an incredible amount of gold, diamond, coal, oil, and other such valuables, making it the subject of international controversy. Eventually, the chaotic wars were brought to a close, with a monarchy being set up by the natives of the island. Trade partnerships were instantly established, and for six years, the "Crystal Empire" stayed a popular tourist locale.

But none of the stories of massacres and executions could keep Dash from falling asleep during Tara's lengthy, drawn-out historical recap. Every time she dosed off, AJ would ask for a beverage from Bonnie, which she would splash on Dash's face. However, drowsiness overcame all senses of normalcy after eight hours of nonstop flying, which led the girls to their slumber for the night. When they did finally awake, they couldn't help but feel relieved that they were in the process of landing in Virtumia.

The airport itself was almost uncomfortably located on the edge of the island. From the window of her seat, Tara could see that the landing zone was cut into the forest itself, and it was either surrounded by trees or by the ocean. The feelings of excitement grew exponentially in the aircraft. The next few minutes seemed to pass by at a painfully slow rate as the plane landed, crawled to a halt, and was processed for approval.

At long last, the doors finally opened, revealing the sunset on the beautiful island nation. It was truly a sight to behold; the deep hues of pink and orange cascading over the deep blue ocean, reflecting off of the waves as they gently crashed into the rocky shore line. The chirping of indigenous birds flying overhead filled the misty air, which was scented heavily with the smell of salt-water. A gentle breeze brushed past, blowing past the girls and deep into the forest.

Unfortunately, the girls could hardly appreciate the scene for more than a moment, as a limousine pulled up to the jet, and they were whisked away to the forest. A single paved route was present, which the driver of the limo followed with expert precision, while the P.O.N.Y's chatted away in the back.

"This is incredible," Tara said, her enthusiasm clear. "We're actually in Vitrumia, getting a ride in a fancy limo."

"I've seen fancier," Dash commented, not as amused by the entire ordeal. However, her bitterness was mostly ignored, as Tara continued to speak in a very excited tone.

"This is great," she spoke to herself, practically squealing in joy. "So much history is here. So many exotic places, and ancient castles, and political history, and, just…oooooh."

"Jesus, Spark, your acting like a fangirl," Dash said with a sneer. "I don't think I've ever seen you this fucking happy about anything."

"You have no idea how big of a deal this is, Dash," Tara said, her mood unchanged. "I mean, we're in one of the greatest places on Earth right now. Everyone else is excited about this. Right, Fiona?"

Tara turned to her friend, but received no answer, as Fiona had her face pressed right up against the window, examining the forest closely with a large grin.

"Oh man, the different animals that live here," Fiona said to herself in a dream-like state. "One of the most diverse wildlife reserves is right here. The types of creatures that lives in this forest…"

Fiona trailed off into quiet murmurs underneath her breath, as she scanned the environment from signs of life. Meanwhile, her excitement seemed to spread, as Rachel and Pinky were also practically shaking from excitement.

"A royal ball," Rachel said to Pinky. "Holy shit, we're attending a royal ball. An actual royal ball with the high society types. That's a dream come true for anyone."

"Imagine the food they have there," Pinky said, nearly drooling. "Mmmm. They have to serve the guests well, right?"

"Think beyond the food, Pinky," Rachel said, slightly annoyed. "There's going to be everything a young lady can dream of there. Elegance, class, sophistication, princes."

"I thought you were all big on science?" Pinky said, confused.

"I am," Rachel said. "But when you pretend to like something for a prolonged period of time, it starts to grow on you. Besides, just because I'm a science girl, it doesn't mean I can't like big, fancy events."

"And the food they serve at the events," Pinky added. Soon, the two girls got into an argument over the fundamentals of enjoying formal gatherings, making Dash feel very frustrated over, what she felt to be, a lack of common sense. However, the rebellious youth managed to find some solace in the fact that AJ remained as calm and collected as usual, leaning back in her seat with her hat tipped over her eyes, and her hands resting behind her head.

"So, AJ…" Dash said, trying to start a normal conversation. "Since you and I are the only sane ones here, how do you feel about this whole fucking mess?"

"It's just another mission," AJ simply claimed. "I'd rather take it than be shot at. What are you so upset about?"

"AJ, take a look at me," Dash said, pointing to her own face. "Do I look like someone who enjoys going to formal gatherings?"

"No," AJ replied. "But you also don't look like someone who would keep a stuffed animal of a turtle anywhere near her."

"You know what, AJ?" Dash said, coldly. "I really hope that, someday, you'll get some weird-ass STD that will make your vulva fall off, and make you profusely bleed out of your asshole. And then die. I forgot that part."

Soon, the car ride ended, as the girls finally got a look at the grand vista before them. From an opening through the tree line, a massive stone castle became visible, towering over the land. The Daltenoss Royal Family Estate was built on the edge of a rocky cliff, which drops down over 200 feet to the forest below. The Estate's prestigious positioning gave the impression that it was substantially more important than everything else around it. It certainly seemed that way to the girls, as they rapidly drove up a steady incline with wonder and amazement.

It took almost too long before they were able to get out of their vehicle, and walk inside of the almost intimidating structure. The main hall, where the ball would take place, took their breath away. The floor was covered in a silky, red carpet, and the walls were a deep gold, which extended to the ceiling. Thirty-five yards away, directly in front of the main entrance, was a long, wide staircase, covered in the same red carpeting. The staircase split into two halves, each parallel to each other, before looping back around, and leading to an upper area directly above the main hall. Eight gold pillars supported the upper structure, stretching up into the ceiling in beautiful radiance.

"Wait," Tara said, pausing briefly in complete shock. "Are we… are we actually staying here for the night?"

"Three nights," chimed a man in a suit from the doorway, who was carrying several bags of luggage. "We'll escort you to your chambers. Enjoy your expenses-free stay at the Daltenoss Estate."

Tara couldn't help herself from squealing again. She felt almost embarrassed by the action; she always figured it was something usually some by teenage girls freaking out over seeing a poster of their favorite boy band. However, her excitement overcame her, and she needed to release some form of her excess energy, or else she would burst.

It only got worse as Tara and the others were guided up the steps. Tara was led through many halls in a daze that she could barely remember them. The halls of the estate were numerous; Tara had forgotten how big the place actually was. However, despite the age of the building surrounding them, and the amount of hallways that needed to be accounted for, everything looked gorgeous. The walls alternated between lovely shades of cyan, gold, and crimson. The portraits changed from family photos to royal statures. The carpet was either violet or dark blue, yet always soft. The closest thing any of the girls could compare it to was being inside of the castle from Cinderella, only it was far better.

It was real.

Eventually, after several flights of stairs and seemingly endless wonder, the girls were brought to a halt before two doors, located across from one another. The escort left them alone, and with a shaky hand, Tara opened one of the doors. Up until this point, Tara was quite sure that she had witnessed the most astounding décor in the entire world. However, within a half of a second of opening the door, she found herself to be mistaken.

The suites in which the girls had to stay were, like the rest of the castle, beyond wonderful. The room contained three separate bedrooms (each with king-sized beds), a fully-equipped kitchen, a seventy-two inch 3D television in front of a full living-room set, a Jacuzzi, and, to what Pinky considered more important than anything, a fully-stocked refrigerator. It didn't take long before the group had fractured into pieces to explore the suite.

"Damn, these beds are comfy!" AJ called out, relaxing on the velvet sheets.

"This toilet is made of, like, silver, or something!" Dash announced. "Shit, how much money do these guys have?"

"Fiona, what exactly am I grabbing a hold of?" Rachel asked her friend, who was standing nearby. "It feels really soft and fuzzy."

"It's some kind of blanket," Fiona commented, examining the fine material. However, she quickly shuddered, and tossed the item to the ground. "Ugh, I think it's leopard fur."

"THEY HAVE CHEESES!" Pinky screamed in joy, her upper body becoming lost inside of the fridge. "They have cheddar, and mozzarella, and a whole bunch of cheeses I never even heard of! This place is the best!"

"Tara, what do you think of this?" Fiona said, still in a state of wonder. However, her friend did not answer, causing her to become mildly concerned. "Tara?"

"Huh?" Tara said, trying to shake herself out of a daze. "Oh, it's great. Just great."

"You know," Dash chimed in. "I think this may be the fanciest place I've ever been in. I mean, I've only lived in shitty houses and underground, top-secret government bases, but still, this place takes the prize. So, who's gonna sleep where."

"I aint leaving this bed!" AJ called out from one of the bedrooms.

"I aint leaving this fridge!" Pinky shouted as well. With a sigh, Tara sat down on the couch in the center of the room.

"I'll stay here, I guess," Tara said, feeling the softness of the couch beneath her. Dash groaned.

"Fine, then," Dash said, irritated. She motioned towards Fiona and Rachel. "Come on, you fuckheads. Let's get to the other room; I'm fucking exhausted."

"Maybe that's not such a bad idea," Fiona said, trying to avoid looking at the fur blanket on the floor. "Hopefully, not all of the rooms have animal pelts."

Fiona wrapped her arm around Rachel's so he could act as a guide, and then followed the rainbow-haired girl into the other suite. Being so caught up in the magic of the location, the girls had completely forgotten how late it actually was in the day. With the others gone, Tara fully lied down on the couch. Despite the constant cheers of Pinky from just a few feet away, Tara's eyes grew heavy, and soon, she was whisked off into a peaceful sleep.

__________

"They're here," The Unknown stated, as he paced back and forth behind the throne.

"I know they're here," Sombra said with a grunt. "The King knows all of the doings in his home."

"Are you sure you're ready for them?" The Unknown asked cautiously. "This needs to go smoothly. It's the last big step in our plan, and if we're going to make it work, you need to make sure they don't suspect anything."

"They don't have the slightest clue what's going on here," Sombra said, growing annoyed. "Stop questioning me; I get things done."

"I'm just making sure," The Unknown said with a sigh. "You seem a little on edge."

"Why wouldn't I be on edge?" Sombra asked, leaning back on his throne. "These girls have been the only problem we seem to face. There used to be five of us, and now, it's just you and me. I have a reason to be slightly suspicious."

"Don't be, Sombra," said the faceless man, leaning over the throne to get near Sombra's ear. "You have nothing to fear. Just let events play out like they may, and all will be fine. And then, everything we hope to achieve will finally be within our grasp."

"You better be right," Sombra grumbled, never looking at his boss.

Or else you will be sorry, he thought.

__________

March 13th, 2016

The ball was rapidly approaching. From what Fiona had heard, her friends were not the only ones taking residence in the castle for the night. Apparently (and she had no way of confirming this herself) all of the attendees had rooms to sleep in for the duration of the evening. While this did slightly hamper the experience, it was not a tremendous worry.

What was a worry was the amount of preparation that she had to go through to get ready for such a formal event. In the many suitcases that Celestia had sent their way, six dresses were neatly packed, each complete with a handful of accessories. Upon first examination, Fiona seemed to be taken aback by how beautiful the gowns were. They resembled, like the rest of the castle, more like something out of a fairy tale than anything else. However, after further research, Fiona discovered how painstaking it was to fit into the dresses themselves. Dash herself had never even bothered to look into her suitcase, instead opting to take the entire object and drag it into the bathroom. Fiona thought that, at the very least, that that would remove some worry from the entire ordeal of changing.

However, Fiona found herself in the uncomfortable position of having to assist Rachel in getting dressed, as well.

"Come on, Fiona. It's like a dream come true," Rachel said with a smile, trying to ease the growing tension.

"I'm not used to dressing other people," Fiona said, nervously holding up Rachel's dress. "It's kind of awkward and- Do you have to take off your shirt?!"

Fiona blushed heavily as the Brit removed her T-shirt. The animal lover felt extremely relieved that Rachel had her back turned, and was still fortunately wearing a bra, otherwise the situation would become unbelievably uncomfortable.

"Hey, this isn't exactly fine for me either," Rachel claimed, quickly taking off her capris as well. "I'm just trying to get this over with; maybe act professionally about it. Now, come on! Put that dress on me."

"Uh, Rachel," Fiona said, her face beet-red. "It's, uh, strapless."

For fuck's sake, Rachel thought with a groan, unclasping her bra as well. She threw the now worthless article of clothing to the floor, and then extended her arms outwards, prompting Fiona to commence with her actions.

After a few painful minutes of awkward touching, struggling and squeezing, Fiona was able to force the dress onto her friend, and tie it up in the back. Rachel finally turned around, and at last, Fiona could actually see the gown in action. The dress itself was pure white, with a deep violet stripe running down Rachel's right side. The dress was low-cut, exposing what Fiona thought was far too much of the foreigner's cleavage to the open air, and hugged the body very tightly, so much so that it was almost difficult for the British girl to breathe. The bottom of the dress was ruffled, and halted just a half of an inch above the floor. Rachel, growing annoyed by the utter silence in the room, groaned and gave a quick twirl, her arms outstretched.

"Well?" Rachel said, placing her hands on her hips. "Spit it out; how do I look?"

"Uh… great?" Fiona said, trying to find the right words to describe the perfect nature of Rachel Germain. However, she found that "great" was substantial enough, and she decided to stick with it.

At this time, Fiona decided to get changed herself, as it was far overdue, and quickly put on her own outfit. Unfortunately, this experience was rather awkward as well, as Rachel happened to be directly staring at Fiona the entire time with two blank, glass eyes. She knew that she wasn't actually being stared at, but it was still rather unnerving. Fiona's dress was a shade of yellow caught between maize and jasmine, and it (much to her relief) covered much more of her body than Rachel's gown did. However, she was somewhat saddened to learn that the thick straps wrapped around her neck instead of her shoulders, exposing her tattooed back. However, the dress seemed to be much more appropriate than her counterpart's, and that was good enough for her. Not to mention, a floral pattern ran along the bottom of the dress itself, adding an extra dash of beauty.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" cried Dash from the bathroom.

"Dash, are you alright?" Rachel asked.

"THAT MOTHERFUCKING BITCH!" Dash yelled again. "IS THIS HER IDEA OF A SICK FUCKING JOKE!?"

"Dash, what's going on?" Fiona called, concerned.

"This is so unfair!" Dash complained. "How am I supposed to wear this?"

"Come out of the bathroom," Fiona instructed. "Tell us what's wrong."

"This is what's wrong," Dash said, as she opened the door. Fiona could hardly believe her eyes. Standing in the doorway, with her arms crossed angrily and a nasty scowl on her face, was Dash in a cyan, sequin-covered, sparkly dress. As if this weren't enough for Fiona to take in, the makeshift of the dress itself was astounding. The dress was not only very low in cut, but also stopped not halfway down Dash's thigh, making Dash more exposed than Rachel was. Unfortunately, Dash's body did not appear to be made for ball gowns; her more muscular structure did not compliment the dress at all, and combined with her under-average height and her flatter assets, she appeared almost as if she were to burst out of the gown entirely.

Rachel simply stared ahead with a blank and confused expression on her face, while Fiona had to quickly cover her mouth to prevent herself from bursting into an incredibly inappropriate fit of giggles.

"It's not that bad, Dash," Fiona said, although she could barely get the words out without laughing, and she was grinning like mad.

"I look like a fucking prostitute," Dash groaned, resting her hand on her head. "I feel like a fucking prostitute. I can't believe Celestia would pack me that."

"Are you sure Celestia packed you, well, whatever it is you're talking about?" Rachel asked, slightly annoyed that she still had no idea what the problem actually was.

"It was in my bag, so yeah," Dash replied with a sneer. "That bitch has some fucked up sense of humor. How does anyone wear this kind of shit? Talkin' to you, Rachel."

"I wore outfits with elegance and class," Rachel said defensively. "From the sound of it, you're dressed like a whore."

"I really am," Dash said, examining her outfit with a repulsed look on her face. "Hey, Fiona, think you can make me look less… slutty?"

"I'll try to make you look better," Fiona responded, managing to get herself under control. With a sigh, she went back to work, applying the necessary accessories to not just herself, but her two friends as well. The task wasn't easy, as Fiona rarely wore makeup herself, and the others were unable to provide much help (except for Rachel, who was, somehow, able to judge how much makeup she was applying to her face, and simply needed to be handed the correct objects). However, after thirty-five minutes, the girls were decked out with glamorous hairstyles, stunning makeup, and a plethora of necklaces, bracelets, and earrings, and Fiona felt as if she had just climbed Mount Everest.

"Wow, girl, you actually didn't suck for once," Dash said, looking at herself in the mirror. Fiona had managed to provide her with a makeshift cover-up, which, when coupled with the rest of the jewelry and makeup, actually made Dash look rather attractive. The miscreant didn't feel any happier about having to go to the ball in the first place, and she hated giving off the impression of someone prissy and dimwitted (for she figured no one else could possibly enjoy such an event), but she also supposed that it was an improvement, nonetheless.

However, she rarely had time to mull over her thoughts before Fiona rushed her into a pair of slippers, handed Rachel her cane, and rushed the girls out the door.

"We gotta get moving," Fiona said, dragging the girls out of their luxurious suite. The door locked with a satisfying click behind them, as she knocked thrice on the opposite door. "Are you girls ready in there?"

Fiona was greeted with an annoyed AJ, who suddenly yanked Fiona into the room with great force, making the shy girl stumble to the ground. AJ was wearing a bright orange gown made entirely of lace, which hung off of her right shoulder. AJ's hair was braided, and fell in front of her left shoulder, where it dangled back and forth. The Stetson was surprisingly missing, as, without a doubt, Tara had forced her to keep it off for the duration of the evening.

Yet, that was not the source of AJ's disappointment, as she gestured over to the fridge, where Pinky was buried inside of the cold chamber.

"Can ya help me drag her outta there?" AJ said. Fiona stammered about, unsure of what to do, before Dash marched angrily into the room, and pulled Fiona to her feet. AJ examined Dash for a few moments, before adding in, "What the fuck happened to ya? I can't tell whether you're wearing too much or too little."

Dash only answered in a grunt as she walked over to Pinky, grabbed onto her shoulders, and chucked her to the floor. Pinky gagged on a piece of chocolate in her mouth, and grasped her throat. However, the threat hardly lasted as, with a quick smack to the back, the blonde was able to hack up the sweet treat.

"Whoa, thanks, AJ," Pinky said, her grin unusually large for someone who was choking to death a mere few seconds ago. While Celestia did somewhat anger Dash with her dress selection, she got Pinky down perfectly. As such, Pinky wore, as usual, pink. She had a black sash around her waist, but aside from that, the puffy gown that she wore was entirely pink, and was only complemented with either pink makeup, or jewelry with pinky gemstones within.

"Are we actually going now?" Rachel asked, peering her head into the room.

"One second!" a voice called out from the bathroom. "I can't get the stupid makeup on right."

"Spark, if you want to get off before going to the ball, you don't have to lie about it!" Dash called back.

"I'm almost done!" Tara swore. "One last touch, and… finished!"

Tara Sullivan had never been called "beautiful" before. She had been called "genius", and "brilliant", and "marvelously intelligent", but never "pretty", or "stunning" or gorgeous. She had never thought herself as such, and for the most part, she never really cared; it just wasn't her style of life. She thought that she could simply focus on her academics, and let the views of others be cast aside. It was the reason why Tara never put makeup on unless it was absolutely necessary; she refused to let it dictate her life. However, deep down, she couldn't help but desire one moment in the sun; to be treated like a beautiful young woman instead of a nerdy little girl. She had no desire to be like this, but it came about anyway, like some primal instinct buried deep inside of her subconscious. Perhaps, she figured, it was something that every girl sought to achieve; being raised on princess stories would do it. But for Tara, she gradually decided that it would never come, and she thought she would be contempt with that; her chance at shining like a star had long passed, and she could move on.

But now, for this one moment, Tara Sullivan was shining brighter than any star in the cosmos.

From the instant that she walked out of the bathroom, she was greeted with four mouths hung open in complete and utter shock. The individual before them didn't even resemble Tara, or at least, that was what it seemed like. Her skin shown with a deep radiance that had never been seen in their leader before. Her long, flowing violet gown gave shape to a figure that was almost heavenly in construction. Her arms were covered in long, lacey sleeves that looked like they were ripped directly from a fairy tale. Her hair was tied up neatly in a bun, leaving just four strands of pink hair to fall in front of her face in a most stunning manner. Around her neck was a golden pendant in the shape of a star, made of .24 carat diamond. Truly, if none of the girls had never known her before this incident, they might have sworn she was a goddess.

However, Tara, seemingly unaware of such attentions, adjusted one of her long, silk gloves, and started to go over the mission.

"Okay, we need to come into contact with Brian Hammonick," she announced, not noticing that she was not being listened to. "We need to make sure everything goes over smoothly, and no one gets hurt, so everyone needs to be on their absolute bes-" Tara glanced up, and paused. "Why is everybody staring at me? Did I smear the lipstick, or something?"

"I honestly don't know," Rachel spoke, very frustrated. "Because, apparently, NO ONE IS GOING TO SAY WHAT'S GOING ON! I CANT SEE, SO SOME COOPERATION WOULD BE HELPFUL!"

The screaming knocked Dash out of her stupor, although she was still quite amazed to say the least.

"What. The. Fuck?" Dash said, unblinking. "Did you and Rachel switch place or something when that MACER Device went off? Because… I… I just can't… huh?"

"You, uh, look great, Tara," AJ said, trying regain her composure.

"Then let's go!" Tara said, moving quickly to the door (or as quickly as she could manage in high heels). "We're already late as it is."

"Yeah, we're going to a party!" Pinky suddenly yelled in celebration, jumping in the air. The girls left the room, with the exception of Fiona, who was still in a trance, staring directly at the wall with a completely stunned look on her face.

"Fiona, come on!" Tara called, popping her head briefly back into the room. Fiona shook her own head, coughed, and then followed her friends out of the room, and down the halls, as they made their way towards the ball.

The main gathering point itself was located in the main entrance hall and its upper chamber. Much to the girls' surprise, by the time that they had arrived, hundreds of people were already present. Tara sighed; the last thing she liked was being late for something, especially when it was something of such massive importance. Still, she believed that the situation was quite redeemable, and focused her attention on finding her target. She turned around to give another crucial reminder to her team.

Except, her team wasn't there. They had scattered like cockroaches, each running off to something that they found far more exciting.

Pinky, for one, had managed to run halfway across the upper floor, weave her way through many suited figures, and was now standing in front of a long refreshment table. Pinky was in total bliss; she had never seen so many different types of food in her life. She thought that she had something important to be doing, but she couldn't remember what it was; food clouded her mind. She also thought that she was supposed to be acting "lady-like", but when faced with such a wide arrange of treats, she could not be certain. It hardly mattered anyway; when Pinky Patrikson saw exotic food, it was a necessity to eat it. As such, the people around her with quite surprised when a teenage girl in a bright pink dress lunged towards a piece of cake like a deranged hyena.

But that was only one such example of misconduct. The girls stayed at the ball for several hours, getting caught up in a large variety of events. Tara had managed to locate Brian Hammonick rather early on, and had talked to him greatly. She had heard that he was much nicer than his father George was known to be, and after such a personal experience, she could certainly confirm the rumor. It wasn't just that he was younger and sweeter; he seemed to have an aura of honesty about him, which made their conversation far more enjoyable.

"And so, I truly hope that everything works out alright," Brian said, taking a bite of a pastry hors d'oeuvre. "And I'm terribly sorry for any inconveniences you had to go through."

"Thank you," Tara said happily. "This is going a lot smoother than I thought."

"Well, I try to be much more reasonable than my father was," Brian said with a shrug. "Tell me, how old are you again?"

"Eighteen," Tara replied. "Well, nineteen in about thirty days."

"How did you end up working for the government?" Brian asked with a laugh. "That's ridiculous!"

"It's a long story," Tara answered.

"Well," Brian spoke honestly. "I do hope that the USA continues to have more young people involved. It's great to listen to the modern era."

Far away from the political conversation, Fiona sat by one of the large, glass windows, gazing outside into the endless forest mass. She wasn't a very social person, so large formal gatherings with a lot of judgmental people in a very confined space weren't exactly her forte. She felt very fortunate that no one happened to be standing near the window, as it gave her a nice little box to sit in and think. Fiona never took her eyes off of the window; she was drawn by the curiosity of what lied in the trees. She wished that she could step outside into the open air, and be surrounded by the wonderful creatures that nature had to offer. However, the moon was already out and shining brightly, and while her curiosity drove her outside, her fear kept her within the castle walls.

"Miss Samswell, I presume," said a deep voice from behind her. Fiona nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound. She quickly calmed herself down, and turned to face the strange man standing behind her.

The man before her wore a suit, like all of the other gentlemen present for the evening. However, unlike the others, his suit was navy blue, and his tie was silver. The man stood at an imposing six and a half feet tall, and he seemed to be quite aware that he towered over almost everybody else in the room. His face was clean and well kempt, although his jet black hair was long and messy, running to his shoulders in a black mop. His eyes were like that of a hawk, always piercing through everything in sight in a hazel gaze. Wrapped around each arm was a woman, both blonde and wearing outfits that left shocking little to the imagination. He spoke in a very serious, deep tone, as if everyone who had heard something coming from his lips had been blessed.

"You are Miss Fiona Samswell, correct?" the man asked again. Fiona gulped.

"Uh, yes," she said nervously. She couldn't put her finger on it, but the man before her seemed incredibly terrifying. "How do you know who I am?"

"I saw the wings," the man responded, gesturing to Fiona's back. She quickly glanced at her own backside, taking note of the blue wings which were grafted onto her skin.

"Do I know you?" Fiona said, terror ever present in her voice. The man cracked a smile.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said, taking a very slight bow. "My name is Mortimer Leu'Fray. I am the advisor of the imports and exports for all of Vitrumia. Pleasure to meet you."

"Uh, same," Fiona said, giving a small wave. "So, how do you-"

"Let's cut to the chase, Miss Samswell," Mortimer said. "I represent some powerful people in this world. People who plan to do some rather amazing things for the progression of humanity. We believe that you have certain... talents that would be quite useful to us."

"What do you do?" Fiona asked, still quizzical about the entire ordeal.

"We do what is best for the world," Mortimer stated. "We would be greatly honored if you would help our cause. See, we at P.U-"

"Hey, Fiona!" Dash suddenly waltzed over to the two, and wrapped her arm around Fiona's shoulder. "This shit-muncher isn't bothering you or anything, is he?"

"Oh, no, he just-" Fiona tried to explain the situation, but was cut off when Mortimer held out his palm. In truth, Fiona was somewhat glad that Dash happened to stop by. Her conversation with Leu'Fray had been an uncomfortable one, and she was very thankful to have someone by her side, especially someone who knew how to protect herself.

"No need to apologize for Miss Dawson's actions," Mortimer claimed. "We can always continue this talk on a later date. Remember, Miss Samswell, you can always find refuge with us."

With that, Mortimer Leu'Fray left the two alone, leaving them not only slightly scared, but also extremely confused.

"Who the fuck was that?" Dash said, removing her arm from her friend's shoulder. "Some guy you blew back in high school?"

"I have no idea who that was," Fiona responded with honesty. "He just walked up to me, and started talking. He even knew our names. Creepy."

"Meh, I can take him," Dash him, pounding her chest in pride. "I'd wrangle him like a fucking bull."

"Well, thanks for coming over here," Fiona said with a smile. "It really helped."

"Well, you know," Dash said, pretending to be humble. "I needed someone to talk to. Spark's getting all "boring, cooperate conservative" over there, Pinky's trying to rupture her stomach, and I don't know where the fuck the "crazy accents" have gone."

However, as Fiona scanned her eyes around the room, she quickly found a point of interest. In the corner of the room, right by the stairs, a large crowd of men was forming, all circled around one object. It didn't take Fiona long to figure out what had attracted all of their attention. She led Dash towards the object, slowly making her way through the crowd of people. For every time that she apologized for squeezing past someone, there was another instance where Dash responded with a series of swears and complaints. This proved to be the case even more so when they finally arrived at the crowd of extremely excited men, and had to push their way to the front of the group.

As Fiona expected, standing alone in the midst of the group was Rachel, who was smiling happily as she twirled about and constantly teased. Objects were handed her way constantly, and she accepted each one with resounding pleasure. What Fiona did not expect was how smoothly Rachel was acting to everyone. She accepted each object that was thrust in front of her face without any difficulty, and she moved around with such ease without her white cane that she didn't even seem like she was blind anymore.

"Rachel, what's going on?" Fiona asked to her friend, who continued to smile brightly.

"OhhelloFionagreattoseeyoupleasurethatyoustoppedby," Rachel quickly said in a continuous flow.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Dash asked, very confused by Rachel's extremely pleased and almost hyper nature.

"Nothingnothingswrongeverything'sfineI'mfinethanksforasking," Rachel said again, her words once more in a blur. At this time, Fiona noticed something else odd about the Brit. Rachel's fingers appeared to be twitching uncontrollably, and her foot tapped on the ground at a very rapid pace.

"Rachel, what did you do?" she asked, concerned. Leaning over to her friend, Rachel spoke in a hushed voice from behind her perfect smile.

"IgavemyselfanadrenalineshotbeforeIcamehere," Rachel confessed, her fingers still twitching.

"Is that safe?" Fiona was now very worried about her friend's wellbeing.

"Notreallyno," Rachel said honestly, keeping her voice down. "InfactitwasreallystupidtodobutIcouldn'tjustwalkaroundwithoutseeing anythingitwassomethingIneededtodo."

"You're fucking insane," Dash said in disbelief.

"Andyoulooklikeahooker," Rachel said, her smile still bright as vibrant as ever.

"Rachel!" Fiona said, shocked.

"Sorrythatwasmean," Rachel said, accepting a large gem from one of the surrounding males, who had been so caught up on the physical beauty of the young women that they hadn't noticed a word she had said.

"I think you might need to lie down, or something," Fiona suggested.

"Nonsensekeepthepartyalivecantstopnow," Rachel stated.

As the girls went about their talking, AJ, who had mostly stayed by the wall the entire ball, now made her way over to Tara. AJ had no personal feelings about the ball itself; it was what it was. She never had any love of high society life like Rachel, or any deep seeded hatred like Dash. She just saw it as what it was: a ball. Still, she couldn't help but see the artificiality surrounding the entire event. So many people gathering in one place to celebrate how much more successful they were than everyone else. She didn't think of it any more than that, and she didn't lean towards one side or another, but it was just what she was able to observe.

Yet that was not the only thing that put AJ off about the evening. She didn't know why, but she felt as if she were being watched; as if some ghostly presence kept its gaze upon her and would never let go. No matter how hard she tried to fight this feeling, it would not go away. It certainly was not making he feel any more comfortable, so she needed a distraction to get herself away from it.

Luckily, her friend would make due.

Tara had just finished her conversation with Brian Hammonick when AJ arrived. She was also currently in the process of chewing a meaty hors d'oeuvre, and AJ's sudden greeting nearly made her choke.

"Tara, can we talk?" AJ said rather loudly. Once Tara found the strength to swallow the remainder of her meal, she talked to her friend.

"Sure thing," Tara said happily. "How are you enjoying the ball? Pretty cool, huh?"

"It's alright," AJ said, glancing around her. "Just aint somethin' I'm into."

Tara was shocked.

"Really?" Tara said. "How can you not be impressed by all of this? This place is incredible."

"It feels off, though," AJ said, shifting her shoulders. "I don't know what it is, but this whole thing just doesn't sit right with me."

"AJ, I think you might just be a little stressed out," Tara said.

"Hold on a second," AJ said in disbelief. "You're calling me stressed out?"

"I'm just saying," Tara said defensively. "You're not used to big events like this. You don't get to experience things like this much, so you're still in a military mindset. Just relax, and enjoy this. Your name is 'Balle', after all."

"I can't help it if I feel like something's wrong," AJ said sternly. "If I learned anythin' over the past thirteen years of my life, it's that I gotta trust my instincts on these kinda things. And right now, my instincts are tellin' me that somethin' just aint right."

"AJ," Tara said calmly, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Nothing is going on here."

"I think you should listen to your friend," said someone from behind Tara's back, who she pleasantly rotated to face.

"Why thank you, si- Whoa…" Tara stopped moving her lips, and leaned her head back to look at the person who greeted her. The man who now stood before her was well over seven feet tall; his lean body hovering over all around him. His skin was the color of coffee, and his eyes were the color of the ocean. Long dreadlocks hung over his face, and his beard, which rested solely beneath his chin, was strung into segments as well, which dangled several inches below his face. His face was round, and looked very pleasant. Underneath his right eye was a tattoo of a half-circle, which ran underneath his eyelid, and extending from it were three triangles, each pointed downwards at forty-five degree angles from one another. This man, like the others, wore a suit, although it was entirely black, and had a golden pin attached to the front of the jacket.

"You're, uh, really tall," Tara said in shock. She quickly covered her mouth, realizing that she wasn't supposed to be saying such things at all. However, the man laughed a hearty laugh, showing no ill feelings.

"Yes, I suppose I am," the man said with a smile. "My name is Quincius Daltenoss. And you girls are the lovely young ladies that were sent to my castle, yes?"

Tara immediately felt dumbstruck. She had heard the name of Quincius Daltenoss before, and now that she realized who she was talking to, she felt like a complete fool.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," Tara said, quickly taking a curtsy. "I didn't realize who I was talking to." Tara paused, and then whispered to AJ harshly. "AJ, bow, now."

However, AJ remained unimpressed.

"You're the owner of the castle?" AJ asked in a casual manner. Tara felt extremely agitated; this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to talk to royalty, and AJ was messing everything up. But yet again, Quincius did not seem to mind at all.

"Actually, that would be my father," Quincius said, looking around the room. "But, in a way, yes. I do own this place. Also, you can stop bowing, miss." Tara hopped back to an upright position, letting loose a nervous laugh.

"It's really an honor to meet you, your highness," Tara said.

"Just 'Quincius' is fine," the prince said with humility. "But actually, it is much more of an honor to meet you. I have heard many things that you have accomplished. It is really quite outstanding for someone at such a young age."

"Thank you so much, sir," Tara said with a genuine smile. "That's really incredible to hear."

"Yes," Quincius said, although his expression saddened. "Look, what were you told when you were instructed to come here?"

"Our mission is to ensure that relations stay strong between our two countries," AJ informed.

"That's what I was hoping for," Quincius said. He looked around nervously for a few moments, before getting down on one knee, so that he was eye level with the girls. He leaned in close to Tara, and spoke in a hushed voice. "I need your help with something. Something very important."

"What is it?" Tara asked, confused. Quincius sighed.

"Over the past several years," Quincius explained. "My father has been mandating the selling of natural resources in Virtumia. He's always been very secretive about his work; he never tells me anything. But recently, I managed to check through his files, and I made a very startling discovery."

"What'd ya find?" AJ, curiously.

"I think," Quincius said, clearly distraught. He kept his voice low. "I think my father is working with a terrorist."

The news was shocking. Tara especially was baffled by the news. It wasn't something that she understood. She was in Virtumia. Wasn't this supposed to be a safe haven, where all worries were taken care of, and the seeds of corruption were washed away? How could a man in charge of so much beauty negotiate with someone so horrible?

"Do you know who it is that he's been talking to?" AJ asked, staying calm.

"I wouldn't know," Quincius said, shaking his head. "I think I saw him once, but-"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" A man called out from the steps. "Introducing your generous benefactor, King Klius Daltenoss!"

"Meet in the hall outside of your rooms in five minutes," Quincius said, rising to his feet. "I'll explain the rest there."

Quincius walked away in a very formal manner, acting like he had not just revealed information that made Tara feel sick to her stomach. If Quincius was right, then that meant that her host could be supporting a massive destructive plan, which could result in the deaths of untold numbers of innocent lives. Worse, if King Klius was working with who she thought he was working for, then the little vacation she was on was about to become much more brutal.

Her thoughts were broken when AJ nudged her in the elbow, and motioned her to sneak through the crowd. As the two girls stealthily made their way through the crowd, Tara noticed that all of the attention in the room was directed towards a man standing on the steps.

Klius Daltenoss was not as tall as his son, but he was certainly more imposing, with a stern jaw, stern eyes, and a stern scowl, which seemed permanently attached to his face. His robes were much more elegant than anyone else's in the entire castle; his clothes were velvet, silk, and fur, each making up a different segment of his royal ensemble. Despite his serious expression, Tara had no doubt that he was rather full of himself, and enjoyed dressing up as much as possible. Atop his head was a golden crown that was covered with rubies, diamonds, and other such gems.

With a deep, booming voice equivalent to that of his son's, Klius Daltenoss addressed the crowd.

"Welcome, everyone!" Klius declared. "I take it that you have been enjoying the services. I am glad; not because I get to enjoy a wonderful ball, but because of the fantastic work we've done over the past several years, and all of the partnerships we made."

The audience clapped.

"I have built Vitrumia to be the world's finest in the exporting of raw materials," Klius continued. "And to all of the great nations that have supported me throughout this time, thank you. Thank you. Without your help, none of this would have been possible at all, and my dreams could never become reality."

Bullshit, AJ thought as she snuck down one of the many hallways. She couldn't help herself from thinking negatively about the king. After all, considering that he was most likely assisting a terrorist operation, she had very good reasons not to trust him. But she felt that even if he had not been involved in any sort of violent incident, she was certain that he would still be hated. To her, he seemed like a liar and a cheat, and those were the types of people she despised.

By the time that she and Tara had managed to locate an elevator, dodge the guards and sneak back to their rooms, Quincius had already arrived, and was waiting patiently.

"Good, you showed up," he said happily.

"We can't miss this," Tara said, still somewhat saddened. "So, what do you know?"

"Well, I few weeks ago," Quincius said. "I decided to check over some files of my father's work, seeing as how I'm supposed to take over control of the state. But when I was searching, I found documents regarding the exports of classified materials to a part of the eastern United States. I was very confused by this, as I knew that all exports needed to be documented publicly on what leaves the island. But when I went to confront my father about it, he told me that it was not important, and I needed to leave. There was this man he was talking to, who looked absolutely horrifying."

"What did he look like?" Tara asked. Quincius racked his brain to remember.

"He had on this black sports coat, and this black hat as well," Quincius said. "But his whole head was covered by this white cloth; I couldn't see his face at all.

"Oh shit," AJ muttered under her breath. The description was all too familiar to her. She could clearly see the same man, just as described, staring her down in an abandoned restaurant just a few months earlier.

"It's him, isn't it?" Tara said, grasping the gravity of the situation.

"Yeah, it's him," AJ said with a mixture of disappointment and fear. "Quincius, do you know why you father would partner with a terrorist?"

Quincius remained silent for a moment.

"Are either of you girls familiar with my religion?" Quincius asked. Both girls shook their heads.

"What does that got to do with any of this?" AJ asked.

"Well," Quincius said, taking a sigh. "Back when natives inhabited this island thousands of years ago, they invented a belief of gods and the afterlife that explained the concept of the universe. In their original language, the word, "Sombra" means god. One of the more famous stories goes about like this: DiSombra, god of wealth, was tired of the other gods treating him like a mere child. So, he devised a plan to put himself up above the others. He started to offer the other Sombras portions of his wealth in exchange for pieces of their souls. Once each Sombra gave away a piece of their soul, they thought that they would be happy. But since DiSombra owned a portion of their soul, a portion given out of lust for wealth, he could make them do whatever he wanted. For a brief time, he became king of the gods, but became bored with his power. Out of boredom, he placed all of the money-hungry souls into a box, and sent it out onto the world. The other Sombras had their free will back, but constantly hungered for their souls back, and searched all over the world for it. But they were never found. The legend says that the souls hunger for a host, and if they infect a body, that person becomes overcome with lust for money. This was how greed came about to the earth."

"But what does this have to do with Klius?' AJ asked, growing impatient.

"My father obsessed over that story for all of his life," Quincius explained. "He retold it to me every night before I went to bed. I can't be sure why he's doing what he's doing, but I think that he wants to be just like DiSombra; let others greed rot themselves out, so he can become king of the world; king of the gods. I don't really know, but that's the best explanation I can think of."

"And your father has just been partnering with this man, on and off, for years?" Tara asked.

Quincius shook his head.

"You could hardly say that it occurs in intervals," he said. "In fact, every time my father has a 'private meeting', the two of them sit together and talk for hours. This happens all the time. Actually, now that I think about it… they had a meeting together yesterday."

The two P.O.N.Y's mulled over the situation. Things looked bad. From what they heard, one of the richest, most powerful men in the world was supplying a major terrorist threat with something, and it could not possibly be any good. Worse, nothing could be done to the man without sparking an international incident, which meant that Klius Daltenoss was practically untouchable. But even worse than that was one incredibly glaring fact, which both excited and shook the girls to their very core; which was so unbelievable, that they weren't sure whether it was a dream come true, or a nightmare come to life.

The Unknown was in Vitrumia.

To Be Continued...

Chapter 9: The Golden Man (The Throne of the King)

Chapter 9: The Golden Man

Part 2 of 2: The Throne of the King

"Are you absolutely certain he is there?" Celestia asked over the phone. The girls had left the ball after such new was delivered, and were now huddled around a table in one of their suites. A phone was lying face down on the table, and Celestia's voice echoed through the speaker.

"That's what Quincius said," Tara claimed.

"These are serious accusations," Celestia stated. "Suggesting that the king of Virtumia is working with The Unknown is almost ridiculous."

"Look, that's what he told us," AJ said defensively. "Why would a man make up a lie about his own father?"

"I'm not saying that he made anything up," Celestia said, her voice clearly indicating that she was annoyed. "Hell, if anything, I have too much faith in Quincius. I've met the man, and he's brutally honest. Besides, there would be no real reason for him to lie about such things."

"Unless he wanted the throne," Dash suggested. "You know, power hungry, or some shit like that. That seems like a pretty good explanation for me."

"I doubt that," Celestia said. "Quincius hates politics. Plus, his respect for his father is off the charts. No, I'm almost confident that Klius is actually guilty of such things, which is exactly why I'm so pissed off."

The girls nervously glanced at each other. It wasn't often that their superiors showed signs of extreme anger or emotion. In fact, they acted on such a professional level that it seemed like they weren't even human. As such, hearing Celestia in such an enraged manner was very bizarre indeed, and actually made the girls themselves feel confused and afraid.

"Are you alright?" Fiona asked cautiously.

"Technically, no," Celestia said, irritated. "If Klius is in partnership with a terrorist, then any import we take from his country would be met with extreme prejudice. It would be almost like we're aligning ourselves with terrorists. The controversy surrounding that man would be on a ludicrous level."

"So what are we supposed to do?" AJ asked. "Arrest him?"

"We could never get away with that," Celestia stated. "It's physically impossible with all of his security; we could never get it done. And even if we were to do arrest him, it would still reflect badly on us. His people would be able to destroy the evidence once they noticed that he was being taken away, and without any proof of his involvement, it would just reflect badly on us. Not to mention all of the problems that would arrive from sending a team in to arrest him. Paparazzi, a conflict in the United Nations, paperwork… this whole thing is just a damn nightmare."

"You mean we're just supposed to sit here and wait for shit to go down?" Dash said in protest. "The guy is helping the motherfucker we've been chasing for months, and we can't do anything?"

"Not really, no," Celestia said somberly. "It's a pain in the ass, but it's what needs to be done."

"This is why I fucking hate the government," Dash moaned, not caring if Celestia heard. "Too much formal political shit. Why couldn't we have been recruited by, like, a cult, or something? That would make things so much easier."

"Stop complaining, Dash," Tara scolded. "It's not like we want to do nothing either."

"But we always do nothing," Dash said. "What we should really do is sneak into Klius' throne room, kick his ass, and teach him a few manners like the bad-asses we are."

"And get charged with international federal offenses like a bunch of idiots," Celestia spoke again. "Or, worse, get killed in a mad attempt for blind justice. You're thinking of the impossible."

"Wait," Tara said, her eyes wide. "Maybe Dash is onto something."

"You bet I am," Dash said, before pausing in shock. "Wait, I am?"

"Yes, you are," Tara said in realization. "That plan could actually work."

"Okay, seriously, what the fuck is happening to you?" Dash asked in confusion. "First, you start looking like an actual woman, and now, you're agreeing with my violent plan. Are you on drugs? Did Pinky sneak you something? What were in those foods that you ate?"

"Nothing's wrong with me," Tara stated. "Look, Pinky, do you think you can hack into the security network of the castle?"

"Can I ever," Pinky said, cracking her knuckles. "It's just a matter of getting access to a server, which I'm sure they have somewhere around here."

"Well, I think that if we alter the security footage, and take a stealthy, late-night approach," Tara said, formulating the plan in her head as she spoke. However, the speaker on the sudden seemed to erupt.

"Don't you even consider doing something like that!" Celesita screamed. "An operation such as that would put everything at risk! You have no idea how many lives would be ruined if you were to fail…or succeed."

"I know it sounds ridiculous," Tara said. "But we've pulled off crazier things before. We managed to take down both of Discord's headquarters, and we weren't nearly as experienced back then as we were now."

"That was an insane gangster!" Celestia claimed, clearly not any happier. "You're talking about launching an attack on the king of Vitrumia! We're not talking about some million dollar coke industry; we're talking about an event so massive that it could bring an entire continent into a civil war!"

"Nothing bad will happen to us," AJ said, just as confident as ever. "I aint never failed a mission before, and I sure as hell don't plan to fail one now."

"I don't know, guys," Fiona said quietly, almost afraid to speak up. "I mean, this does sound really dangerous. If we mess up, we could end up in a lot of trouble."

"We're not fucking this up," Dash said with a smirk. "We took down the two greatest mercenaries on the planet. A prissy little bitch of a king won't be much of a big deal. Besides, if anything goes wrong, then I'll just lightning punch them all in a fraction of a second." Dash rose to her feet, and in a blur, threw several punches in the air, demonstrating her point.

"I think we can get it done," Rachel said. "I mean, mathematically speaking, we're fucked. But realistically, I doubt that they'll be expecting something like this to come their way. If we take them by surprise, we could actually get this done."

Celestia let out a frustrated growl, and then spoke in a dark voice.

"If something goes wrong," Celestia stated. "I can't help you. No one can help you. The government would deny any attachment to you in a heartbeat. No rescue will ever come. If you fail this, you'll be abandoned to the cruelty of the world. I guess I can't stop you from going through with this, but I'm begging you to stay out of this."

"Celestia," Tara said. "We need to do this. If we don't stop this here, we may never get another chance. I'm sorry, but we have to take down King Daltenoss. To us, there's no other way except for surrender, and none of us are going to let that happen. We won't fail."

Celestia sighed, completely and utterly defeated. What kind of commander was she? None of her soldiers would follow her orders, even when it was for their own good. She wished she had some means of stopping them, but she was left helpless. All she could do was sit back and watch as six teenagers, with only a few months' worth of experience, tried to fight back against impossible odds.

"Let's hope you're right," Celestia breathed out, her words heavy. "For all of our sake."

__________

March 14th, 2016

Guard duty was a bore. It didn't matter what was being guarded, or how crucial it was to perform the duties admirably; it was a complete, utter, painful, frustratingly-long bore. This could mainly attributed to the fact that nothing went on in the estate. The security was tight; no one could get inside of the building without permission, and so most of the interior guard services were uneventful.

For example, there seemed to be no reason to guard the server room at four o'clock in the morning wearing formal suits. The server room itself was on the bottom floor in a remote corner of the castle, far away from where most would ever visit. What was on these servers? Aside the entire security network for the castle, no one really knew. There were rumors that the computers there contained vast secrets, some of which could destroy entire civilizations. However, for the two guards who were instructed to guard the server every single night, interest in such mind-bending things were lost long ago.

These guards had their identity stripped from them many years prior. As an order from the king, all individuality had to be removed for the best to be accomplished. As such, the guards didn't have names, but had codes instead. And while 0221 and 0364 may not have been entirely comfortable with this at first, they accepted their duties of guards of the Daltenoss family, and followed through with their orders.

"Did you catch a glimpse of the big event today?" 0221 asked his fellow guard.

"No, did you?" 0364 asked back, mildly interested.

"Yeah," 0221 said. "Had to drop by to give Devilman the day's briefing. Passed by the main hall on the way there. You should of seen some of the women there…"

"Gorgeous?" 0364 asked.

"Damn wonderful," 0221 answered. "Which once more begs the question to why we must remain unmarried."

"Take it up with King Daltenoss if you're still upset about it," 0364 sighed. "I'm tired of listening to your complaining."

Suddenly, there were footsteps coming from down the dark hall to their left. They wasted no time, and followed through with their practice perfectly. Whipping the handguns out of their back pockets, they pointed the weapons down the hallway, and turned on the flashlight that was attached to the barrel. However, instead of an intruder, they saw a young girl. Not young enough to still be considered a child, but not aged enough to be considered an adult. The girl herself took their breath away; from the long, flowing, violet hair to the perfect hourglass figure of a body, she appeared as if she was from a dream. Two other things seemed very noticeable: her pajamas were very small on her, and she was waving a white can around in a panic.

"H-hello?" the girl called out, scared. "Is someone there? I need help."

"Over here, ma'am," 0221 said to her, causing the tension to leave some of her shoulders. She quickly walked over to the two, keeping one hand on the wall to guide her.

"Oh thank god I found someone," she said quite happily. "I've been feeling so frightened."

"What happened to you?" 0364 asked cautiously.

"I woke up in the middle of the night," the girl said. "I needed to use the bathroom, but I had to get one of my friend's up to help me; I'm blind. But she played a nasty trick on me, and now, I've been wondering aimlessly, trying to find someone to help."

"You didn't find anyone else on the way down here?" 0364 asked.

"None that wanted to help me," the girl said somberly. However, she quickly perked up, and suddenly latched herself onto 0221. "Not like you two gentlemen. You've helped me ever so muc-"

"Rachel, there you are!" a high pitch voice screamed. The two guards now looked back towards the hallway, where another young woman was standing. The big-eyed blonde ran down the hallway, and now hugged her friend.

"Pinky, I'm in the middle of something," Rachel said with a song in her voice.

"I've been looking all over for you," Pinky said. However, something seemed off about her to the two guards; it almost seemed like were words were being produced in a very unnatural manner. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind. Ooh, who are your friends?"

Pinky sprang towards 0364, and hugged him tightly.

"Just some lovely men who greatly helped me out for the night," Rachel said in a seductive tone. "Don't you think we should repay them?"

"Ooh, that sounds like fun," Pinky replied, although her answer couldn't help but sound incredibly forced. 0221 and 0364 glanced at each other, both very confused. However, within a matter of seconds, 0221 gave a sly grin to his comrade.

"Why not?" he said happily. "Not much happens around here anyway."

With a giggle, Rachel took his hand, and started to lead him down the hallway. With a huge smile, Pinky quickly let go of a pleased 0364, and took his hand as well.

"And if those maniacs come for me tonight, pop their heads off like corkscrews."

Pinky suddenly took several steps back in shock, as multiple flashes ran through her mind; images of orders, images of past family, and, most importantly, the instructions of one set of orders given very recently. With horror, Pinky turned towards Rachel as fast as she could.

"THEY KNOW!" she yelled in panic.

The guards didn't waste any time. 0364 pulled out his gun, and with no hesitation, lined his sights with Pinky. However, with a swift kick to the jaw, the gun was knocked to the floor, and 0364 was sent stumbling into the wall. Aware of the deception, Rachel rolled her way out of the man's reach as quickly as possible, before taking a fighting stance. 0221 pulled a long hunter's knife out of his pocket, and lunged at the blind girl. Yet she was far from defenseless, as she contorted her form. While the man swung at thin air, Rachel extended her leg, wrapped it around his arm, and rolled to the ground. With a few twists of her legs, she held 0221 in a tight headlock, with her limbs holding his neck and arms in a very uncomfortable position. Pinky, meanwhile, was busy pummeling 0364 senseless, with none of the grace or style that her counterpart had in spades.

"Do you know what I can do from here?" Rachel asked in a harsh whisper. "From where I'm positioned, all it would take was a sixty-seven degree rotation to dislocate both your collarbone and your shoulder. Very painful. I certainly wouldn't want to experience that."

"Okay, got 'im!" Pinky announced cheerfully, standing over the body of a blood-covered 0364. Her knuckles were bruised form the excessive hitting, and covered in blood, but she didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

"Good, now crack open the door," Rachel said. Pinky gave a salute, and went to work on the combination for the door's keypad. She examined the keypad carefully, her eyes wide with amusement.

"Wow, look at this," Pinky said, pointing at the locking mechanism. "Triple-code, double-access, maximum reinforced, key-and-turn based locking protection. This is really impressive; could take a bit to open."

"Just open the bloody door, will you?" Rachel said, irritated. With a sigh, Pinky opened the outer panel of the keypad, and went to work. For several minutes, Pinky worked on hacking through the door, all while Rachel had to focus on keeping 0221 under control.

"You will never take down the king," 0221 said. "He is unmatched."

"Don't care," Rachel claimed. "Honestly, I had to dress up like a slut tonight, and what's worse is that I thought I had left all that shit behind me. So if you don't mind, I'm not in the best mood right now for any sort of menacing talk."

"Oh, come one, Rachel," Pinky said, not detracting from the task at hand. "We had fun together. I never acted like that before."

"I would say you never acted like anything before," Rachel muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pinky asked, unsure if she was just insulted.

"Stick to hacking computers and shooting things," Rachel said with a hint of displeasure. "Speaking of which, are you almost-"

"Done!" Pinky announced. A beeping sound was heard, and Pinky stood upright happily. Rachel sighed happily, despite more protesting from beneath her.

"You're not allowed in there" 0221 said in anger. However, Rachel had long stopped caring about the fate of this man, and with one quick bend of her arms, she tore his collarbone and shoulder right out of their sockets, just like she claimed she would.

"Shouldn't we just kill him?" Pinky asked, opening the door to the server room. Rachel marched past her into the dimly lit, small room.

"He could be useful," Rachel said, looking at the guard pathetically squeal in pain on the floor. "Anyway, get access of the cameras. I'll tell Tara to be on her guard."

Pulling an earpiece out of her back pocket, Rachel placed the communication device in her ear, as Pinky walked over to the main server, which had a series of monitors for easy access. It only took a few seconds before the P.O.N.Y's had total control of the castle. With a smirk, Pinky turned back to her friend.

"Okay, my part's good," she declared. "Tell the others that the coast is clear. We're ready for action."

__________

Tara unsheathed her sword. She wasn't expecting it to be easy, especially now that she knew she was being hunted. However, her fear had escalated. She felt like she was running the line between right and wrong, and she did not know why. Every part of her brain was informing her that if she went through with this, and she failed, the consequences would be incomprehensible. Some parts of her mind tried to reason with her, reminding her that for every mission, her failure meant death, and it was no different here. But she couldn't help herself; she almost wished she didn't fully have to go through with the assignment.

However, AJ placed her hand on her shoulder, transferring some of the southerner's everlasting confidence to her, and easing her nerves.

"Ya look kinda off," AJ commented. "Are ya sure that yer ready? We do need everyone to be completely focused, after all."

"I'm fine," Tara lied, taking a deep breath. "Really, don't worry about me." Fiona spoke up from behind.

"We don't really need to go through with this," she mentioned. "I mean, if you wa-"

"I'm fine," Tara said, harsher than before. "Besides, if the guards are looking for us, then there really is no turning back. Our rooms are probably under lockdown."

"Which is why we shouldn't still be waiting around," Dash complained. "Look at us; we're in the middle of a fucking hallway. It's like painting a target on our ass."

The girls had been standing in the corridor beneath their suites for twenty minutes, where they had been impatiently waiting around for Pinky to finish her job. Despite the fact that they had been standing in a blind spot in the security system, they could not feel more scared of discovery.

"Let's just wait for Pinky to map the place," Tara instructed. "It'll only take a few sec-… wait, here she is."

A buzzing rang off in Tara's ear, and she lightly pressed two fingers to the small, black device.

"Is it all mapped out?" Tara asked.

"It should be all good," Rachel said. "Handing you to Pinky now."

There was a rustling heard over the device, followed by some complaining, and then a small amount of feedback.

"Okay, you're gonna need to continue down to your right," Pinky instructed. "When you see a bright blue door, turn left, and then turn left again. This should bring you to the central staircase."

The girls followed through with the order. Keeping low to the ground, they sulked down the hall, peering around each corner before moving forward. It took three full minutes to traverse just under one hundred feet, which greatly annoyed Dash. This caused her to complain even more, which in turn caused the others to get annoyed, also.

"Dash, shut it," AJ scolded. "You're speaking too loud, and way too often."

"And we're moving at the speed in which Spark gets laid," Dash said. "I mean, someone could come sprinting from behind. Cautious is fine, but too slow of a pace is way too slow for this kind of job."

"Hold up, you two," Tara commanded, stopping at a corner. She kept her back pressed to the wall, and looked into the main hall. From where she was kneeling, she could see that she was on the second floor of the main hall. At the top of the steps and far corners of the room were three guards, each holding machine guns, and scanning around the room. There did not seem to be any clear way to get around the guards without being spotted.

"Okay," Pinky instructed. "Now, from the second floor of the main hall, there are four corridors. You're in the southeast one; you need to be in the northwest one."

"There are armed guards swarming the place," Tara said. "They look like they have radios with them too. Any other way around?"

"Not unless you want to try scaling the cliff," said Pinky. "You're going to need to take out the guards. The cameras are already down, so you should just be able to wait for the right moment, and then strike."

"Okay," Tara said. She turned back to the others. "Girl's, when I give the signal, we'll launch a simultan-"

Tara paused. Dash was no longer with them.

"What the fuck!" a guard shouted, startling the others. Dash had, in what she thought to be a clever move, sprinted out of cover, and while still moving at her rapid pace, kicked one of the guard's weapon out of hands, and then captured the same guard in a headlock. The other two guards had their sights pressed on their struggling, nameless partner. Dash kept moving the man around in her arms, preventing either of the men from ling up clear shots. One reached for his radio, and attempted to signal an alert throughout the base.

However, without any warning, the radio flew out of his hand. He turned in shock, but he lost sight of the radio; all he could see was a katana less than a second before it collided with his face. The blade split him nearly perfectly down the middle. The other guard failed to react as well, as a silenced bullet whizzed through the air, and cut through his throat, killing him instantly. Dash snapped the final guard's neck, only to be immediately reprimanded.

"Are you crazy?!" Tara shouted at her, momentarily forgetting to keep her voice down.

"Sorry for killing the opposing threat, Spark," Dash retorted sarcastically. "Next time, I'll just let the bad guys execute me. Oh, no, wait, I'll do better. I'll just shoot myself in the head."

"Stop being careless," Tara said. "Of all the times you could act like this, now is not-"

"Ladies, we need to move," AJ stated, reloading her suppressed pistol. "The other guards may have heard the scuffle."

"Alright," Pinky said, examining the monitor. "Now, once you move three doors down the hall, there should be a staircase to your right. Travel up that two floors, but don't enter the hall until I give the signal."

The girls did as they were told (although there were still bitter feelings to be had). They moved quickly down the next hallway, and then climbed the steps as fast as possible, stopping at the doorframe to the next hall. Tara instructed the others to duck down onto the steps, as she pressed tightly to the wall. Sure enough, a patrolling guard passed by, taking quick glances over his shoulder.

"Down the hall to your left is a crossroads," Pinky claimed. "You'll need to turn right, and then turn left. You should reach a bright red hallway."

"Got it," Tara whispered.

"But there are about four guards waiting for you if you don't move fast enough. You need to move right as the guard passes if you want to make it on time," Pinky said. Then, she took another look at her monitor, and then gulped. "Uh, actually, you probably should have made a run for it about twenty seconds ago."

Tara let out a frustrated groan. Taking one last look from behind cover, Tara sprinted out into the hallway, and turned left. She made a one hundred and eighty degree turn, and threw her sword at the guard, who had just turned around, and barely had time to raise his gun. The sword landed directly in his chest, impaling him through the heart. Before the man hit the even ground, the blade flew out of his chest, and flung towards Tara rapidly, spinning through the air. Despite Tara's best intentions, the katana did nearly decapitate Dash, who, like AJ and Fiona, were extremely confused and shocked by Tara's irrational behavior. However, she didn't have time to feel remorse. Instead, the leader turned back around, and followed the route that was initially planned. Moving with fast feet, the girls made a sharp turn right, and ran even faster. Dash had already arrived in the red hall far earlier, and would have ran even further had she known where to go. However, the other girls barely made the turn in time; they dove behind the safety of cover just as four more guards entered the hall from the other side of the crossroads.

"Pinky, they're going to find the body at any moment," Tara said. "A little more help, please?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," Pinky said, her fingers skittering across the keyboard. "Um, there really should be one more staircase in the center of this hallway. Take that up, and you should be at the entrance to the throne room." The four moved with haste towards the dead center of the hallway, where the staircase was said to be.

However, there was no staircase; only a royal portrait of King Klius Daltenoss.

"Pinky, are you sure that the steps are here?" Tara asked, growing concerned.

"Yes, I'm looking at the schematics right now," Pinky said. She was constantly alternating between looking through the surveillance cameras and a full diagram of the castle's structure, and wasn't paying much attention to the former beyond checking for other signs of life. However, upon hearing such news, she checked back to the live feed, and was shocked to see that she had been mistaken.

"Pinky, where's the staircase?" Tara asked once again, her fear escalating.

"Code Red! Code Red!"

Screams came from many yards away; the body of the deceased guard had been discovered. Almost instantly, a siren rang out throughout the halls, indicating a full alert status.

"We're running out of time, Pinky," Tara said. "Where's the damn staircase?"

"It's right there!" Pinky shouted at her. "I don't know what you want me to say! It should be right there!"

"Well, Spark, you really fucked us over this time," Dash said, frustrated. "For someone who says not to rush into things, you sure know how to get everyone caught!"

"Not helping, Rebecca!" Tara screamed at her. It was getting harder to concentrate over the wail of the alarm, and thus Tara felt her rational thought slipping away from her. Of course, she blamed Dash, and the two started to bicker with each other with little care for what was going on around them.

"Guys," Fiona tried to interrupt. "We probably-"

"I just think you're pretty fucking hypocritical," Dash stated. "Considering it was your thoughtlessness that's gonna get us all killed."

"No one's getting killed!" Tara claimed. "We just need to get out of here; find another exit."

"There aren't any other fucking exits," Dash said. "Face it; we're going to African prison. Say goodbye to all of your fucking rights now, you psychotic bitch."

"We really just-" Fiona tried to speak, but neither girl was listening. She looked to AJ for support, but the more experienced girl simply focused on getting her weapon loaded, and searching for an escape route.

"Insults?!" Tara screamed. "Now you want to focus on obscenities? Well how about this? You're just a-"

Beep Beep BOOP

The argument ended as abruptly as it began, as the picture unhooked itself from one side of the wall, and slid open to reveal the staircase that had eluded them. Showing a frustration that was previously unthinkable, Fiona grabbed onto Dash and Tara's shirts, and dragged them onto the steps. Following close behind, AJ grabbed onto the edge of the painting, and swung it back into the wall, sealing off the passageway.

The staircase inhabited its own small room. The lights were a dull yellow, which reflected off of the mahogany walls that tightly surrounded the four youths. Twenty five stairs ascended upwards towards a thick, black, marble door, which a solid gold handle attached to it. While the room was uncomfortably small (the girls could only barely stand facing forward without their shoulders touching the walls), it did provide a small sense of peace and tranquility. Also, from what Tara could tell, the entire section was soundproof, which meant it was the perfect place for her to let her emotions out.

"How did you know that was there?" Tara asked her pink-haired friend, feeling incredibly relieved. "And how did you know how to open it?"

"Well, actually, I-" Fiona tried to explain, but could barely get out more than a few words before Tara pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Whatever it was, thank you for that," Tara breathed a sigh of relief.

"Uh, attention to Miss Pro-Life," Dash said with a sneer. "I'm not sure if, in your mass hysteria, you realized that we were still under an alert phase, and probably will end up getting either of these doors opened in on us any second now, but… that. Seriously, we did just majorly fuck ourselves."

"Cool it, Dash," AJ instructed, staying at the base of the stairs. She had her ear pressed tightly to the secret door, trying to hear what was going on outside. After a few minutes of silence, she came to the conclusion, "I don't think these guys are coming after us."

"What do you mean," asked Tara, who had released a now heavily blushing Fiona from her grasp.

"They aint entering the throne room," AJ said, her ear tuned to the hallway. "For whatever reason it is, they don't think they need to come after us anymore."

"Let me take a guess," Dash said, rolling her eyes. "Whatever's behind that door is so powerful, that the other guards don't think they have anything to worry about by letting us go."

Tara pressed her hand to her earpiece. "Pinky, what's beyond that door again?"

"Two chambers, both pretty big," Pinky stated. "There's an extra security checkpoint, and then there's the throne room, which looks three times the size as the other room."

"But what is in that checkpoint, exactly?" Tara questioned.

"Uh… give me a sec'," Pinky said, searching through the files. After a few moments of searching, she found what she was looking for, or at least, she thought that she did. "It's something called the… 'T'haki Menfi'. It's just a list of ten names."

"Probably royal guards," Tara said. "Fancy names, and whatnot."

"But those royal guards could be something really cool," Pinky said, allowing her imagination to run wild. "What if they're robots? Hey, Rachel, wouldn't it be so cool if they had robots?!"

"They don't have robots, Pinky!" Rachel shouted from somewhere far away, though Tara didn't know her exact coordinates. "We don't have that technology yet! Trust me, I know!"

"What if they're lizard people," Pinky suggested. "Or pet leopards, or-"

"I think we're good for now, Pinky," Tara moaned. "We'll just move in quickly; try to execute as many as them as possible before they have a chance to strike back."

"And what if they try the genius strategy of, oh, I don't know, blindly firing as soon as the door opens?" Dash said with irritation.

"I'll try to knock them back," Tara stated, advancing up the steps. "If you want, you can run out harm's way the second you can squeeze through."

"Okay, not terrible," Dash said, opening up to the idea.

"AJ, get ready to open the door on my command," Tara said, standing two steps below the black marble gateway. AJ ran past her friend, tucking underneath her arm, and pressed her back to the doorway. Dash stood directly behind her friend, while Fiona stayed further back in the group, several steps downwards. AJ listened carefully for any sings of movement, but found none; either the security chamber was completely empty, or the enemy had already taken its place just outside the door.

"GO!" Tara commanded. AJ flung open the door, and then immediately dropped to the ground. Tara, with glowing, violet eyes, launched forward a magnetic wave into the room. Dash leapt out from behind the cover of her friend, and in a blur, launched a mid-air roundhouse kick to whatever target she could strike.

However, her foot only collided with air. As she hit the ground, Dash turned in a circle, ready to face off against the opposition, but found that there were no enemies to challenge. The room was empty.

Yet empty could not truly be used to describe such a room, for it would say far too little. The floor was made of velvet; the walls, marble. Every square inch of the twenty foot wall had at least some form of decoration, whether it be paintings of the royal family, or hangings of treasured belongings, or simply god-like mosaics. Across from the stairs was another gate, although this was ten feet tall and twelve feet wide. It was bright red, like the floor, and on the front was an insignia of a lion's head, made of solid gold. The other three girls stepped into the vast space, staring at all of the wonderful works of art.

"Damn," was all Dash could say.

"Even when they don't need it, they still make everything look great," Fiona commented.

"Try not to get too endowed," Tara said, keeping her sword at the ready. "Remember why we're here in the first place."

"Speakin' of which," AJ looking around. "Where the hell are the guards?"

On cue, ten shadows dropped from the ceiling. They barely made a noise, but it was obvious that they were present. The ten landed on the ground with grace, surrounding the P.O.N.Y's. The soldiers wore black bodysuits, which covered them from head-to-toe. Diagonally, across the chest, was a dark purple sash, with gold patterns running throughout. On the soldiers' left arms, below the shoulder, were white bands, each with a four digit number.

These soldiers were number from "0001" to "0010".

Five of the soldiers took out pistols. The other five reached behind their backs, and pulled out dual machetes. They said nothing. Instead, they pointed their weapons at their targets, and began to walk towards them. Tara quickly huddled towards the center of the room, and the rest followed suit, so that they were back to back.

"Oh, so ninjas," Dash said with a smirk. "Gonna be honest. This is kind of a letdown."

"Focus," Tara instructed.

"Did you girls think you could march into the king's throne room with no consequences?" asked one of the guards in a surprisingly feminine voice. In fact, now that Tara thought about it, all of the soldiers had a female body structure.

"Oh, so sexy, female ninjas," Dash corrected herself. "That's… an improvement."

"Seriously, Dash," Tara groaned. "I don't like the look of this."

"I know your desperate to get some action, Spark," Dash teased. "But, c'mon! They're ninjas."

"Silence!" another one of the guards screamed. They were only about five feet away by this point, and the machetes could nearly touch Tara's katana. "Do you think this is some form of entertainment? These are your final moments. You should be appreciating them while you can."

"We should not give them the grace of having final moments," another guard spoke. "We should strike them down now."

"The king may want them alive," said another guard. "Perhaps we shou-"

"Spark?"

"Got it."

The guards wielding pistols flew across the room, slamming directly into the marble walls, while their pistols flew out of their hands. Tara gave the order to attack, and the girls were thrust into battle.

Tara lunged at the lone solider before her, sword extended and aimed for the heart. Unfortunately, the solider, 0003, responded much faster than Tara had anticipated, and easily ducked underneath the blade. She thrust out her own two sword, causing Tara to fall on the retreat. She backpedaled constantly as 0003 kept swinging her own machetes at a very rapid pace. Tara was forced to keep her katana high in defense, trying to bide her time. However, this idea quickly backfired, as two more soldiers recovered, and joined in to help 0003. Tara was losing track of her enemies' attacks. Six blades striking almost all at once became disorienting, and she could no longer hear anything over the constant clash of steel against steel.

Tara, running out of options, resorted to using her magnetic manipulation, tossing her opponents away in order to relieve some of the pressure. She lost count of how many times people were pushed out of the way; it seemed like an endless cycle of throwing, recovering, and blocking. Worse, Tara started to feel an unusual amount of pressure in her head, which only made it harder to concentrate. And, as if it wasn't enough already, the opposing blows started coming in faster in faster.

However, when she thought she was going to faint from the tremendous headache she was experiencing, she found her opening. Using what seemed to be her last bit of strength, she used her powers to forcibly throw two of the guards to opposite sides of the room. With only one soldier standing directly before her, Tara went back on the offensive. She used her powers again, by locking onto her enemy's arms, and manipulating them to rise in the air. With her arm's forced out to her sides, 0003 was powerless as Tara thrust the katana into her chest, allowing the blade to cleanly slip between her ribcage.

Tara, however, was tired, and despite the imminent danger, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her head. She looked around in a daze, trying to make sense of her friends' battles. She barely noticed that the two guards which she previously disposed of had risen, and had not taken kindly to the prospect of their companion's death. She also barely noticed that they were charging at her. All she could really focus on was the splitting migraine that she was dealing with, and how much it hurt her to do anything.

Fortunately for the teenage leader, she happened to have a very loyal batch of friends. It was Dash, in particular, who came to her aid in the form of a brutal kick to the head.

"Go back to Japan, you sub-Saharan pieces of shit," Dash taunted, holding up her middle finger. It was a rather risky maneuver for her to take the time to throw out insults, considering that she now had four soldiers trying to kill her. However, she did not seem frightened at all; in fact, she was almost glad that she had an extra challenge. One of the royal guards tried to land a devastating blow from behind. But Dash used her evasive speed to instantly appear on the other side of the room, and was now leaning against the wall in a casual manner.

"Too slow, fuckface," Dash taunted. Within a second, Dash had reappeared inches in front of the soldier, and connected an uppercut directly to the jaw. Dash started to vanish and appear in a continuous sequence. She stopped in front of a solider, hit her, and then moved on to the next victim. One of the guards, 0005, tried to launch a preemptive strike, slashing half of a second before Dash had a chance to attack. Yet Dash was clever, and skipped around the cycle with very selective choices. Thirty seconds passed, and Dash had not slowed down, nor injured any of the guards enough so they could not continue. Once, with guards surrounding from four directions, Dash stopped in the middle of the group, and opened her arms wide, as if she were expecting to be hugged.

"Are any of you going to put up a fight?" she said with a laugh.

However, Tara saw something in Dash's body language; the way her shoulders sagged, the way her breathing was jagged, the way her skin glistened brightly. The rebel wouldn't be able to last much longer in a fight. Dash tried her best to hide it though, with her cheerful smiles and crude jokes. Still, her words could hardly do much help when one of the guards tried to decapitate her from behind. Dash was able to respond quickly enough to the initial attack, but was immediately regretting her decision. She fell to one knee, panting heavily, as the soldiers moved in for a final attack. A blur spread to the secret entrance, but Dash was able to go no further. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she leaned against the wall.

Well, fuck¸ Dash thought to herself. She felt weak. Very, very weak. Being weak wasn't in Dash's style. Rebecca "Dash" Dawson did not feel weak. It simply was not in her character. She never once thought herself as weak, and never planned to. And yet, despite this permanent stance on her mental and physical condition, she had to face a very unfortunate truth.

She was completely helpless. So helpless, in fact, that she could only watch with aching muscles as a blade was launched towards her head at high velocity.

"Move, Dash!"

The advancing soldier was tackled to the ground. Before she had time to recover, Tara rolled to her feet, and brutally impaled her stomach.

"Get your head back together," Tara commanded, bringing up her sword in defense. "And stop using your powers, already!"

"Got it," Dash said, finding enough strength to support herself. She placed her back to Tara's, raising her arms loosely. "You ready to show these punk bitches what we're made of."

"Stop talking," Tara stated, keeping her eyes on her targets, who were now circling like a pack of wolves, waiting to pounce at a moment's notice.

While this was occurring, Fiona found herself thrown to the ground by her attacker. The lone soldier, 0008, waited patiently for Fiona to get up before continuing. The two had been caught in a dance of grappling after 0008 had been disarmed. From what Fiona could tell, 0008 had a sense of honor, or at least enough of a sense of honor to allow her opponents a fighting chance. She personally did not know why (although a religious aspect of it briefly crossed her mind), but she took advantage of it. She rotated her left shoulder around, trying to eliminate a painful soreness that was ailing her.

"Your move," 0008 said. Fiona examined her target thoroughly. The guard pressed lighter on her left foot than her right. Not only that, but her right arm seemed to be barely shorter than her left. Every time she went in for a takedown, she quickly shuffled to her left, placing her left foot directly behind her right for a fraction of a second. It wasn't too much to go off of, but Fiona thought of something she could use.

Fiona took a kick at 0008's head. The guard backpedaled out of the way, and then, like expected, shuffled to her left. At the precise moment her feet were lined up, Fiona went in for the legs. 0008 tried to dodge, but she was off-balance, and was easily tackled to the ground. Fiona moved quickly to secure an armlock, which she was almost able to lock in. However, much to Fiona's surprise (and some disgust), 0008 unlocked her own shoulder from its socket, and rolled her body over her head, allowing her to gain a dominant position. She grabbed onto Fiona's leg with her free hand, and, using some more talented (and very creepy) twisting, she freed her arm, and trapped Fiona in a leglock. 0008 slowly applied pressure by pressing down her legs, which in turn applied more and more pressure to Fiona's ankle.

Okay, think Fiona, the trapped girl thought to herself, as she winced in pain. She's breaking your ankle. It is going to really hurt if you can't get free. Find a weakness in her defenses fast.

Fiona let out a yelp as the royal guard applied even more pressure. They both knew it would be only seconds more before her ankle snapped like a twig. Fiona tried to raise herself off of the ground, but couldn't get enough leverage to reach 0008. She rocked from side to side, trying in vain to relive some of the pressure from her ankle.

But then, Fiona finally realized what she had to do. It did not feel comfortable doing it, but she did not have any choice. Taking a deep breath, Fiona concentrated hard. Suddenly, two large wings emerged from her back, propelling her upwards. She flung over the tangled mess of legs, freeing herself from the pile, and landed on top of 0008's head. She wasted no time. Taking the guard's head under beneath her arm, Fiona gradually applied pressure to her throat, cutting off her airway. Despite her struggle, there was absolutely nothing the soldier could do to overcome Fiona's advantageous position. Even though she was desperately clawing in a poor attempt to free herself, 0008 lost consciousnesses, and her body became limp.

Fiona released the solider from her grasp. Rising to her feet, Fiona collapsed her wings (she hated having them out, no matter how much of a part of her they actually were). However, she was far from relieved; a quick glance over revealed that Dash and Tara were both outnumbered and outmatched. They fought tirelessly to defend themselves, but neither of them was in any good condition to fight. Running over to help her friends, Fiona couldn't help but glance over to AJ.

What a shock it was to discover that AJ was not only fighting against four soldiers all by herself, but appeared to be easily winning. AJ moved with such grace and beauty that she resembled a dancer more than a fighter. The way she docked and weaved out of the way of each attack, never once stopping, transitioning from one movement to the next in perfect fluidity. No matter how many blades came at her at once, she never seemed worried or frightened; she just kept moving through the air with dignity and confidence. Even though it was only for a moment that she saw her, Fiona couldn't help but feel humbled. Seeing how much Tara and Dash were struggling, and considering how much she had struggled with just one guard, it served as an important reminder of how much more experienced AJ was than the rest of them.

But Fiona could not focus on this for long; she had people to help. Tara was barely able to keep up with her attackers, and Dash was too slow to be of much use. With the evened odds, however, the fight became much more balanced. The reduced stress certainly gave Dash some motivation, and her fists flew through the air faster and faster. Tara stayed on the defensive, searching for a moment to parry. She had already attempted to use her powers again, but she was distraught to discover that nothing had happened, and her enemy had remained standing. Still, with Fiona's help, the situation did not seem as hopeless as before.

"Spark, I got an idea," Dash said, leaning her head back to avoid a blade, which otherwise would have slit her throat.

"You want to tell me what it is?" Tara asked in a frustrated manner.

"Too late!" Dash yelled, suddenly sprinting towards her friend, who had her back turned. Dash, without any sort of further warning, forced Tara to bend over, before rolling off of her back, landing in front of the confused girl. Dash immediately transitioned into a low sweep, which the solider Tara had been fighting leaped over with little trouble. However, Tara had recovered from the initial shock, and took the opportunity to slice the solider in two while she had been left defenseless.

"A little more warning, next time!" Tara screamed, turning around to defend herself against another furious solider.

"You could handle it," Dash stated with a sneer, joining Tara in the fight. The solider was clearly outmatched; there was only so much she could do against two very quick fighters without any help. The T'haki Menfi was designed to function as a unit; they were only superior if they could work as one. Unfortunately, individual prowess was sporadic, and this soldier in particular was not very good working by herself. Her thoughts were interrupted as a sharp blade hacked into her side, lodging itself in her hip bone. The sword was forcefully yanked away, and before the guard had any time to truly register the pain, she was cut into again, with the blade now cutting through her spine. In a matter of moments, she had bled to death.

Dash and Tara went to assist Fiona when they heard a sickening crack. Fiona was towering her opponent. Her knee rested on the guard's head, and the grounded warrior had her arm bent backwards at the elbow in a horrid direction. Fiona herself appeared sickened as well; her face was contorted in disgust, and she kept her head turned away from the arm in her grasp. The guard groaned in agony, and this only made Fiona feel worse about her gory deed.

Please just pass out, Fiona couldn't help but think. It seemed like it would never end; the moaning only grew volume. Fiona hated causing people pain. She did it constantly, and had certainly done many worse things in the past, but she still felt horrible about it. The guard had really done nothing wrong to her. Unlike The Beast or any of Discord's men, this woman had only been doing what she was instructed to do. It didn't feel right causing someone so much pain. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore. She delivered a swift kick to the guard's head, rendering her unconscious.

"Fiona, snap out of it," Tara commanded, noticing her friend's severe displeasure. "We have to help…" Tara paused. She observed the battle AJ was fighting, and realized instantly that there was nothing she could do to help.

The job was already done.

AJ started her finishing series of strikes with a simple dodge. She sidestepped a machete that was thrust at her head. She grabbed onto the soldier's wrist with her left hand, while sending out quick jabs to the elbow, shoulder, and throat with the other. The blade fell out of the guard's grasp, and directly into AJ's open palm. Two slashes to the throat was all it took for the stunned solider to collapse to the ground. AJ knocked the other machete into the air with her foot, and caught it with ease. The last three guards charged all at once.

AJ smirked.

The attacks came in from above. AJ spread her legs apart, and fell to the ground. She delivered three successful strikes to each of the guards' thighs. One bent down as part of a reflex; AJ launched her blade upwards, impaling the guard in the face. She then hopped back to her feet, blocking another attack. Her blade was locked, but she still had plenty of other options. A hard boot to the right knee was enough to bend the leg at an awkward angle. As AJ dug her machetes into either side of the guard's collarbone, another attack came from behind. But the southerner spun out of the way of the attack, and in a single motion, removed her blades from one guard, and place them into the other.

With all guards on the ground, AJ removed her hat, and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"What are y'all staring at?" AJ said, with a half-cocky grin. "We got a king to talk to."

Shaking off the sense of wonder, Tara walked over to the entrance to the throne room, and placed her hand upon the golden lion emblem. She took a deep breath. Her head was still killing her, and she felt very tired, but she knew that she had to focus. Whatever actions she took in this room would decide the fate of millions. It was certainly daunting, but it was too late to go back now. King Klius Daltenoss was working with a terrorist.

And she had to stop him.

With a heart full of determination, Tara kicked the door in. The throne room, as was to be expected, was the most gorgeous room in the entire castle. It wasn't the beautiful murals that covered the walls that made it so. Nor was it the doing of the throne itself, which was bright gold, and was placed atop a raised platform in the back center of the room. No, it was the view that made the room look gorgeous. The entire back wall was made of glass, exposing the vast rainforest on the other side. Directly down from the throne room was the massive cliff, which descended hundreds of feet into the endless green of the trees. With the sun starting to rise over the horizon, a beautiful blue glow was starting to take form in the sky, which nearly distracted Tara from her goal.

Except she was quickly brought back to reality, as she saw that Klius was pacing nervously behind his throne, a distressed look upon his face. He took notice of the P.O.N.Y's, and recoiled in fear.

"Stay back, you lunatics!" he ordered, backing himself into the glass wall. "You're not going to kill me."

"Your majesty," Tara said, pointing her sword at the prestigious man. "We've come here to talk."

"Don't think you can fool me," Klius said. "Is this how the United States thinks it can get me to hand over more of my country's resources? By threatening me?"

"Don't try to lie to us," AJ said, following the others into the room. "We know everything."

"Why are you doing this?" Tara demanded to know.

"What are you girls talking about?" Klius roared. "You burst into my home, kill my guards, and try to threaten me with death, and then you say I'm doing something wrong?!"

"Stop talking like an idiot," Dash said. "Honestly, you make deals with a terrorist, and then you try to pass us off as a bunch of thugs. That's fucking pathetic."

Klius seemed utterly puzzled.

"I… I've done what now?" he asked. "You think I've made a deal with a terrorist? Why?"

"We have files stating about secret exports from this country, and a source that knows you've been talking to a major target of ours," AJ said. "If you would just come with us peacefully, we can resolve this thing before it gets outta hand."

"Exports of secret materials?" Klius sounded shocked. "This is an outrage! I have never broken my word on trading openly with the world. I don't know any terrorist. Nothing I've been doing is wrong. Whoever gave you this information is mistaken. Why would I ev-"

BANG

Klius did not think much after the bullet exited out of the back of his skull. In fact, he did not think of anything at all. He slumped backwards into the glass wall, and slid down to the floor, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

"Well, this went smoothly," said someone with a deep voice. "I mean, it was real impressive what you girls did for me today."

Quincius Daltenoss walked slowly to the throne with a huge grin on his face, and a pistol firmly in his grip. The girls were too stunned to protest. His eyes never left the throne as he talked, pronouncing every word with intense punctuation.

"I mean, the concept was very difficult to begin with," Quincius stated. "How would I ever get my father off of the throne? I mean, he was the king! I wouldn't be able to complete my side of the bargain until I had full control of our exporting. It was so very complicated. He never knew what we had found deep in this country, and how useful it would be to us. My first thought was to kill him, but then I thought of the consequences. A kingdom wouldn't take kindly to a son murdering his own father. They wouldn't take that well, at all."

"But then, I found you," Quincius continued. "Once I considered it, the choice really seemed obvious. You were people who could get past the guard, you were the people who were easy to blame for such an incident, and…" Quincius smiled wide. "You were the easiest people to fool."

"You tricked us?" Tara said. "You've been lying to us this whole time?"

"It wasn't hard," Quincius stated. "First, we had to get you to the ball, so a simple story about good relations was made up for the ride. Then, we made up a clever little tale about my father 'talking to a faceless man'. From there, you practically took care of the rest yourselves. Taking care of the opposition, openly stating you want to take out the king of Vitrumia, and hell, even wiping the security system that would be able to see what really went on in here."

"This was a fucking set up," Dash muttered under breath. "Never trust any government."

"Oh, but this was just the start," Quincius said proudly. "You may have wiped the cameras clean, but not in time so that we couldn't get a quick shot of you girls leaving your rooms, armed to the teeth. Tell me… how do you think the world will react when they discover America has been using children to pull off assassinations?"

Suddenly, the gravity of the situation became apparent. Quincius had evidence of them trying to assault the king. It wasn't direct evidence, but under an oath from the new king of Vitrumia, it would hardly take much convincing. All Quincius had to do was get access to a main server, and he could unveil all of P.O.N.Y. in a matter of seconds. It didn't matter now that Pinky could erase the footage, or if that they could take out Quincius. The footage existed, and probably had a plethora of backups hidden digitally. Really, if they did anything to protest at all, it would only delay the inevitable.

They had failed. P.O.N.Y. would be finished.

"Oh now, don't look so sad," Quincius said, walking over to the body of his father. "It's all for the good of the world. Now that I'm king, I'll make sure I do everything in my power to raise my country to the top. I've been waiting years for this, and you girls have made it a reality."

Quincius picked up the corpse, and examined it thoroughly.

"Now, time to get rid of the old," Quincius said, turning to face the glass wall. "And usher in the new."

With a growl, Quincius leaned back, and then threw his father's body out of the castle. The glass must have been reinforced, but from Tara could see, Quincius didn't seem to struggle at all to break it. The body sailed through with little resistance, and then tumbled down the cliff, falling to a rocky oblivion.

"Okay, enough of this!" Tara shouted, pointing her sword at the new king. "I don't care what you're planning to do, but we are not going to let it happen. You're coming with us for associating with a terrorist threat. You might as well surrender now. You're far outmatched."

"No. He isn't."

Tara froze at the voice. She had never heard it before, but it sounded ominous, terrifying, and grave. She glanced around to take a look at the speaker, but all she was met with was a blank, white, expressionless mask.

Then, she was thrown to the ground, and was brutally punched in the skull, knocking her out cold. Dash tried to fight back, but her momentum was redirected, and she was tossed effortlessly to the floor. Fiona and AJ both tried to jab at his throat, but it served to no avail. AJ's hand was ducked, while Fiona had her arm grabbed onto. She was thrown towards the throne, where Quincius stood happily, watching the chaos unfold. AJ fought back as hard as she could. She threw everything she had at The Unknown, but it served no use other than to waste time. Against four royal guards, she was confident, collected, and capable. But now, she could barely keep up. It was almost as if the man was toying with her, keeping the fight sustained for as long as possible.

Eventually, he grew tired of fighting her. She launched a right fist towards his head, but he grabbed her wrist. He maneuvered over to her back, where he twisted her arm backwards, testing the joint to see if it would break. She groaned in pain, but fought on regardless, desperately trying to free herself. But it just wasn't meant to be. The Unknown could only bare the sound of her pained groans for a few moments before he grabbed onto her head, and rendered her unconscious. Furiously, Dash rose to her feet, and in a bout of rapid speed, tried to strike the masked man in the face.

The punch was dodged, and Dash was instead greeted with a knee to the stomach. The Unknown grabbed onto her shoulders, and threw her towards Fiona, who she landed next to with a thud.

"Hahaha!" Quincius cheered. "That was beautiful. Quite the excellent display, my friend."

"The guards have been summoned, as requested," The Unknown said dryly. "I'm sure you'll uphold your part of the deal, correct?"

"I'll keep them alive," Quincius said. "Barely. I think that will be fine."

Dash groaned. Everything hurt; both her mind and her body were in agony. She hated to give up so easily, to have come so far only to be swatted down like flies. She refused to be taken to some medieval torture chamber, where she would spend the rest of her days. She would rather die than face such humiliation, which is exactly why one particular idea popped into her mind.

"Fiona," Dash whispered. "Think you have enough energy to use those wings of yours?"

"I think so," Fiona said. "I don't think it I could do much with them, though."

"Well, get ready to use them," Dash said, starting to rise to her feet. With shaky legs, she stood upright, receiving the attention from the two terrorists. Dash quickly grabbed onto Fiona, and hoisted her to her feet. Fiona mainly was used as a support for Dash as she was guided to the glass wall.

"Wait," Fiona said, growing fearful. "You're not about to do that, are you?"

Dash responded with a weak smile. Fiona gulped.

"Where do you two think you're going?" Quincius said with a grin. Dash took one step back at a time, each foot leading her closer and closer to the broken glass.

"We're going out for the evening," Dash replied in a snarky tone. "Catch you later, boys."

"Wait, Dash, I don't think this is a good-"

Fiona could no longer protest, as Dash grabbed on to her tightly, and leapt out of the castle. The fall may have seemed large from a distance, but from up close, Fiona wished it was a bigger cliff. The ground was approaching faster and faster, and Fiona was absolutely positive that she was about to die.

"Fiona, wings, now!" Dash yelled over the sound of the wind.

Fiona did nothing.

"Fiona, open the goddamn wings!" Dash yelled again.

Fiona still did nothing. The ground was getting closer.

"Open the wings, you freak of nature!" Dash screamed ferociously

They were hallway down the face of the cliff, and Fiona continued to do nothing.

"We are going to die, you motherfucking idiot! Open the wings!" Dash was practically begging now. Finally, something seemed to get through to Fiona, and she shook herself out of her terror. Two wings quickly unfolded from her back, and she grabbed onto Dash as tightly as she could. Fiona tried to slow her momentum, but it seemed to be of no use. The ground got closer still. Realizing she would never be able to stop in time, Fiona tried to level herself out the best she could, in hopes of swinging herself back around.

The attempt did not go as planned; it was too late to stop them from crashing into the forest. Even though she was flying almost horizontally, the forwards velocity had been too much to handle. The two P.O.N.Y's crashed into the trees, and became lost in the endless forest. Only a rustling of leaves gave away their location, but this soon faded away, leaving no trace of the girls ever existing.

"Well, there goes two of our problems," Quincius said, looking out the window. A set of fifteen guards came in, and several of them took AJ and Tara by the arms, dragging them out of the throne room.

"There are two others hidden in the castle," The Unknown stated. "You should send out a search for them."

"Already got a man on it," Quincius said, walking in front of his throne. "It looks like things are finally going my way."

"Our way," The Unknown corrected. "Now that we have that footage, it will be a walk in the park to expose the US. And, now that those girls are locked up, they won't be able to interfere with our plan any further."

"Yes… about that…" Quincius said, a smile appearing on his face. The Unknown suddenly noticed the guards were not leaving to return to their posts.

"Quincius, what are you doing?" The Unknown asked.

"All my life, I've been taking orders from people," Quincius said, examining his throne. "Whether it be the USA, or my father, or you. Tell me, as a part of this plan of yours, what does it have to offer me? What would I gain from your psychotic scheme?"

"You're trying to betray me?" The Unknown said, growing furious. "After all that I've done for you. We're in this together, Quincius."

"Sombra!" Quincius screamed, enraged. "Quincius was weak. He never got what he wanted. All he did was let other people tell him what to think. You're telling me all these things about your cause, but do you know what I think?"

Quincius calmed down, and put on a smile.

"I think I like the modern world," he stated. "I like the power. I like the women. I like the money; the unfathomable wealth in my possession. And a thought occurred to me: if we do actually accomplish our goal, all this money is going to become pretty damn useless, now aint it?"

"You're letting greed guide you," The Unknown stated. "Don't forget why we're here."

"I'm here to live my lifestyle like I always wanted," Quincius claimed. "To live like a king; to be appreciated for once in my life like I deserve to be. My time has come to lead my people to wealth and prosperity, and aint no one gonna stop me from doing so. Not. Even. You."

"We'll see about that, you sellout!" The Unknown screamed. The guards tried to subdue him, but he moved far too quickly for them. He lunged towards Quincius, grabbing onto the king's head, and slamming him into the ground. All of a sudden, The Unknown's hand started to tremble, and Quincius's struggling ceased. A pulse started to emerge from the masked man's hand, transferring its way into the king's body. Quincius's face went blank.

"Now, listen here, Quincius," The Unknown said in a low voice. "You're not rebelling against me. You're going to give me what I need, and you're going to be pleased about it. Understand?"

Quincius said nothing. He just stared into space, his face emotionless. Until, that is, he cracked a smile.

"So," he said, amused. "You are a Macer, after all."

Quincius's eyes shot open, glowing gold. His veins popped out on his skin, and a thick, golden substance covered his hand. The Unknown let out a scream of pain, as a metal-like fist collided with his midsection, sending him flying off of his target.

"I thought you might have been influencing the minds of our council," Quincius said rising to his feet. Two guards apprehended the masked terrorist, holding him on his knees, with his arms held outwards. Quincius started to punch The Unknown repeatedly with golden fists, as he continued talking.

"I first suspected something when Chrysalis said she didn't know Celestia was working with the girls," Quincius said. "Why would she join something without any known incentive? It all fits together, doesn't it? That's why Discord never tried to attack our hideout once we abandoned him. He didn't know where it was, did he? You wiped it straight from his mind. But you forgot one little thing…"

Another fist collided with the masked man.

"I'm the most powerful Macer in the world," Quincius stated proudly. "I'm the king of the gods now, boy. And you aint ever gonna change that. Now, take him away to the cells."

"You can't do this to me, Quincius!" The Unknown shouted in rage. "You won't get away with this. I'll kill you, you traitor! I'll end you, and your whole goddamn kingdom! Do you hea-"

The door was slammed shut, leaving Quincius alone with one solitary guard.

"Anything else, King Quincius?" the guard asked.

"Bring me my cigars," Quincius instructed, walking back towards his throne. "And call me 'King Sombra'."

"Of course, King Sombra," the guard sad, leaving the room. Quincius walked to the center of the room, and lifted the sword that was lying helpless on the ground. The craftsmanship looked splendid to him, and he came to the conclusion, after much consideration, that he should put it in his collection.

However, that moment would have to wait, for there was something far more important to do. With much enthusiasm, King Quincius sat down in the golden throne. He would have to get the window fixed. It wasn't the most important thing at the time, but he wanted to make sure it got done. He was the king of all kings, the god of all gods. Everything about his throne room needed to be perfect. The guard returned carrying a small brown box, and a lighter. He walked up to the armrest of the throne, and knelt down before his king. The box was opened, and a single cigar was taken. It was placed inside of the King's mouth, and was lit posthumously. Quincius then handed the sword to the guard, and with a brush of his hand, instructed the guard to put it in the proper location on the wall.

Sombra was pleased. Everything was just as he wanted it to be.

"Ah," King Sombra sighed out, smoke blowing out of his mouth. "It's good to be the King."

End of Chapter 9

Chapter 10: The Reign of Terror (Desolation)

Chapter 10: The Reign of Terror

Part 1 of 2: Desolation

The Fuccio Crime Family owned Detroit. There was no question about. Anyone who dare thought otherwise was usually found dead the very next day. Sure, the police claimed to have the situation under control, or sometimes they said that rumors of the Fuccio's being a crime family were faulty, but these were all lies crafted by the cowardly and the weak. Every important person in Detroit had at least some connection. The Mayor, the police chief, and even the firemen were all held under an iron grip.

At the head of the Fuccio crime family was a man named Cameron Fuccio. This man of sixty-eight years was known for his wonderful ability to lie directly to people's faces, while giving off the impression that he was entirely sincere. Because of this, most of his own family did not believe him half of the time. Cameron was the father to three children: Mickey, Ruth, and Theodore. Mickey was a mathematical genius, his intellect unmatched by anyone in the city. Ruth was not much of a daughter. Most of her time was spent in foreign locales, enjoying the pleasurable company of sex-driven males (and the occasional female, for anyone was willing to do anything to get near the vast wealth of the Fuccio family). Still, she loved her father dearly, and whenever she was needed for a very important family gathering, she was the first to arrive. Theodore, the youngest, was not bright. In fact, dim would be to kind of a word to describe him. What he lacked in brains, however, he made up with strength and force, and he was cherished equally by his father.

These three were the heads of the main three branches of the Fuccio Crime Family, and they all took their orders from their father. Of course, there were many more branches in the family, such as Aunt Lisa's branch in Chicago, or Cousin Danny's branch in Los Angeles, but these would be far too numerous for the average person to keep track of.

Which is exactly why it was so amazing to see every single member of the family come together in one room. Cameron had scrounged up every one of his living relatives to join together in a crucial business decision. A man had contacted him personally, seeking for a large amount of criminal assistance. If this man was to be believed, then it was absolutely necessary to gather the family for a meeting on the second-to-top floor of the building which held Ron's Pizza Parlor.

However, to AJ, who was parched on the roof of the same building, the reason for the gathering did not matter. What did matter was the fact that this was the only chance she would ever get to prove herself.

"AJ, you're breathin' heavy," Mac stated over the earpiece. "Is somethin' wrong."

"Nothin'," AJ said. "Just a little nerves."

"Just remember what I taught ya," Mac said, his voice smooth. "Keep your aim steady, and always watch over your shoulder. As long as you take out the guards first, you should be all good."

"I know, I know," AJ said, frustrated. She checked over her weapons. Her two pistols were loaded, and a retractable blade was concealed in her wrist. An extra set of knives were stuck to her hips if she needed them.

"You'll be fine, AJ," Mac insisted. "If anyone can take down these bastards, it's you."

"And if I don't?" AJ asked. "If I fail?"

"Anna-Jean Balle, when have you ever failed anything?" Mac asked happily. "Failure just aint in yer style. Now… go kill those fuckers."

"On it," AJ said, her nerves washing away. Secretly, she was extremely glad to have someone as confident as Mac supporting her. She hoped that sometime in the future, she would be able to muster up half of the courage that her mentor possessed. However, she would dare not reveal these thoughts aloud, for her hubris was far too great.

AJ gave a tug on the cord that was clipped to her belt. She took a few steps towards the edge of the building, and cautiously peered over the edge. Cars ran by at an unrelenting pace ten stories beneath her. If she was to slip, or the cord was to break, she would fall to a gruesome and painful death. She took a deep breath, and then counted down aloud.

"Five, four, three, two…"

AJ never finished counting. With a burst of determination, she leapt off of the building, and started to plummet towards the earth. The cord suddenly caught tension, and snapped her back towards the building. She tucked her knees close to her chest, and held her elbows close to her body as she flung directly towards a closed window. From outside, she could see a lengthy oval table, where twenty people sat in a meaningful discussion. At the far end of the table was Cameron Fuccio, who was near the door, which was managed by two lone guards.

There was such a large amount of shock for the Fuccios when a thirteen year-old girl with a Stetson and high-grade pistols burst through the window, and landed perfectly upon the table. The surprise was so great that no one could even react properly to stop her from lodging a bullet in the forehead of Cameron Fuccio, and the chests of the two guards. By the time the criminals came to their senses, AJ had already opened fire upon the room, killing six. Most of the Fuccios hopped to the floor, but it did no good to save them. One man, Albert Fuccio, tried to attack AJ head-on. AJ flicked her wrist, sliding the concealed blade into her palm. She promptly stabbed Albert three times in the chest, a messy kill.

The massacre continued onwards. Any time someone ran to the door, they received AJ's brutal wrath. At a point, AJ forgot that she was actually killing people. While she thought about it, it never really bothered her that much. In fact, it was almost fun to end such miserable lives. It simply never seemed like she was committing murder, and appeared more like a game than anything else.

Everyone was gone. In a matter of seconds, the Fuccios had gone from the rulers of an empire to rotting corpses. AJ put down her weapons, and scanned the room. She wished she could continue. The bloodlust had grown considerably, and it felt sort of good to let it take control.

"Mac, it's done," AJ stated, hopping off of the table. "Is it supposed to feel this good?"

"It shouldn't really," Mac said, only mildly concerned. "You're just affected by the adrenaline. Ya should calm down once ya get back here."

"Is there anythin' else ya want me to do?" AJ asked, hopeful.

"Just get back here, kid," Mac groaned.

"What… what did they do to you?"

AJ whipped around, and pointed her gun at the voice. A man was hiding beneath the table. She didn't care what he looked like. To her, he was just another person to kill.

"You're just a kid," he said, horrified. "You shouldn't be doing this."

"Shut it!" AJ yelled at the man. "I'm gonna take pleasure in watching you bleed."

"Look, do you really want to kill me?" the man asked, desperately. "Realize what you're doing. You just killed twenty people. You're better than this."

"I told ya to shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!" AJ screamed. "Why am I even talking to you? I should just-"

"AJ, ya gotta get out of there!" Mac instructed. "Reports of gunfire have spread to the police. We can't let them find ya there."

AJ turned away from the man, and hushed herself.

"Alright," she said. "We meet back at the base. Hopefully, Celestia will be plenty proud. Just let me-"

AJ stopped. The man had slipped away when she wasn't paying attention; a rooky mistake. AJ sighed. She supposed that she still had plenty to learn. Why did she have to look away? Why couldn't she keep focus like Mac had told her to? Celestia would be disappointed in her, without a doubt.

Still, this was just the beginning. She had survived for tonight, and she had a lifetime to learn how to be the best soldier she could be.

And, better yet, she couldn't wait to get back in the action.

__________

March 14th, 2016

AJ only awoke to darkness. Her first instinct was to move, but she was rendered immobile, hanging against the wall. Her memories came back to her, which only made her struggle more. She looked around for her friends, but couldn't make anything out in the shadow. She patiently waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Before that came about, though, she heard a long groan.

"Hey, who's there?" AJ questioned. No response came. To her right, she could barely make out a figure strapped to the wall, rustling about. It took a few minutes more before she could identify the mysterious figure as Tara.

"Tara, are you alright?" said the southerner. Tara groaned again. "Tara, wake up. We got to get out of here, wherever here may be."

"Wha… who's do…" Tara murmured incoherently. The surroundings were becoming more visible. AJ could finally make out Tara among the darkness, but almost wished that she hadn't. Tara's hands had been stabbed through, causing them to profusely bleed. They were cuffed to the wall above her, as she hung like a portrait. Also, a small cuff had been attached to her right hand, which had a wire running down the wall.

"Tara, we're in a cell," AJ stated. "You need to get us out of here."

"Sam… he'll be coming home soon," Tara muttered. "He always comes home."

"Tara, focus!" AJ commanded. "It's me, AJ. You have to break us out."

"Why did… he leave?" Tara said in a dull voice. "I… I miss him."

All of a sudden, AJ realized what was attached to Tara's wrist. She was being drugged, kept in an isolated state of consciousness so she couldn't use her powers.

"Focus," AJ insisted. "Listen to my voice, and follow it. Understand your surroundings."

"I don't… want that, Sam," Tara said. "Let… me sleep, you… big jerk…"

She's gone, AJ thought, groaning in frustration. Clearly, her actions were having no effect. She doubted that she could break out of her bonds. Her arms and legs were tightly locked in place, and escape certainly seemed impossible. As AJ looked around further, she did have a small sense of hope. Tara was the only other member of her team nearby, which meant that at least someone had managed to get away. She could only hope that the others could get to her location fast, before Sombra took them down.

Sombra. He had tricked them, lied to them, deceived them. She could handle the fact that he was working with a terrorist, but lying? That was crossing the line. So, she made a secret promise to herself. AJ knew that she was going to break free. She knew that she would execute The Unknown.

And most importantly, she knew that she would have to make Sombra pay, and that she would enjoy every minute of it.

__________

Chirp Chirp Chirp

There was a brief gust of wind. The leaves fluttered.

Chirp Chirp

A lizard ran up the bark of a tree. It scurried up beyond the branches.

Chirp Chirp Chirp Chirp

A body lay on the floor. It's pink hair was caked with mud and dirt, as was its arms and torso.

Chirp

Fiona groggily opened her eyes. She was lying face down in the dirt. Slowly, she pushed herself off of the ground, and then immediately collapsed back to her stomach.

"Ow," she moaned. She took a deep breath, and then forced herself to rise. "Ow ow ow ow ow."

Fiona leaned herself against a tree, one hand wrapped around her stomach. Upon self-examination, she found out why she was in so much pain. Her clothes were mostly torn, including the entire right sleeve and collarbone area of her T-shirt, which caused her to embarrassingly reveal much more of her chest than she would have liked. Several lacerations covered her legs, and her arms were decorated with deep cuts.

However, for just a moment, Fiona was able to see past the pain, and realize one very shocking truth: she was in the jungle. The most pristine location for exotic forms of life surrounded her. She was actually left alone with the beauties of nature that only survived in such a wonderful, lush environment.

She couldn't be more terrified.

There was a rustling in the trees. Fiona's head shot up in fear. What was that? Something skittered by several yards away. What could that be? Was it a predator? It wasn't like those didn't inhabit the land. Anything could be watching her. She could only guess what was hidden underneath the African sun.

"Dash?" Fiona whispered. She was too terrified to call out any louder. "Dash, are you there?"

Fiona sighed. She would have to shout. She hated shouting normally, and now she had to do it while potentially attracting predators.

"Dash, are you there?!" Fiona screamed, getting no answer. "Where are you?! Please, answer me!"

Fiona looked up. Through the leaves above, she could make out the Daltenoss Royal Estate. She need to get there. The last thing she remembered before leaping out of the window was seeing Tara lying unconscious on the floor. According to the sun, it was past midday, which meant that Tara could have been tortured for hours.

"Okay, Fiona, you have to move fast," she told herself. At a rate comparable to a sloth, Fiona marched to the cliff. She kept one blood-soaked hand leaning against a tree to stabilize herself. Her legs felt weak, and her head felt worse. All the while she marched, she kept her eyes and ears tuned to the jungle. It was a complex balancing procedure, having to watch for predators while making sure she didn't overexert herself.

Perhaps this was the reason she didn't notice the leopard stalking her. It stayed under the heavy cover of shadow, trailing just a few yards behind its new prey. It could see that its target was wounded, and all it had to do was wait for the girl to collapse before it could feed.

Fiona panted heavily. She wished she could bandage her wounds, but had nothing to do it with. Combined with the ever-present hunger and pain, she started to wonder if she could even stay alive till sundown.

Snap

Fiona froze. She carefully turned around, only to see a large mass of spotted fur. The animal watched her with hungry eyes.

Okay, Fiona, you know what to do, Fiona encouraged herself. She had read enough about jungle cats to understand how to handle herself. Taking a deep breath, sucking up the pain, Fiona tried to make herself seem as large as possible. She kept her eyes locked on the leopard's feet instead of its eyes, as she started to walk backwards.

Don't be a threat, don't be weak. Don't be a threat, don't be weak, Fiona repeated her mantra in her mind. It was the only thing that kept her feeling safe. Otherwise, she was quite certain she would be panicking. It wasn't like she wasn't panicking inside anyhow, but it made her feel as if she wasn't panicking (which made perfect sense to her).

Everything was going well. But, like most things in Fiona's life, something came along to mess it all up.

"Hey, you big, stupid cat!" Dash screamed from a dozen yards away. The leopard focused on the new prey, and started to walk toward her.

"Dash, get out of there!" Fiona called. However, even though Dash looked just as damaged as Fiona did, she still kept her smug attitude.

"Come one, kitty," Dash teased. "Look at me, nice and juicy. Don't you just want to eat me up?"

"Dash, stay quiet," Fiona insisted.

"I bet your hungry, you little bitch," Dash said. The leopard picked up its pace, and quickly lunged out.

Whoosh

Dash ran around to the back, and jumped on top of the wild animal. She wrapped an arm around its neck as it struggled to free itself, waving its paws pathetically in the air. The sheer amount of muscle proved to be a challenge, as it wriggled about in Dash's grip. Still, no amount of protection could shield it when Dash picked up a large branch, and proceeded to stab the leopard repeatedly in the face.

"Dash, let it go!" Fiona begged, hobbling over to her friend's position. The beast had bled to death before she arrived.

"I save your life, and that's how you thank me?" Dash said, jokingly offended.

"That was just a poor creature trying to survive," Fiona scolded. "You didn't need to kill it."

"Too bad, I did," Dash said, observing her kill. "Also, put your bra away. No one wants to see that."

"You're missing the point, Dash," said Fiona, angrily (although she did cross her arms over her chest). "That leopard is part of an endangered species. You can't kill whate—What are you doing?"

Dash had struck the sharp branch into the leopard's side, and had begun to skin the dead animal.

"We're in the fucking jungle," Dash said. "We're going to need food, and probably some clothing. And, honestly, I've always wanted to try some exotic cuisine."

"I'm not going to eat a leopard!" Fiona claimed, horribly appalled. "Stop mutilating its corpse. That's sickening."

"Hey, I'm fucking hungry," Dash growled. "I don't care about whatever pesky morals you have about eating something that just tried to eat you."

"Then you can waste your time eating," Fiona said, facing towards the castle. "Our friends need our help, and I won't waste my time while they're suffering up there."

"Fiona, eat the fucking leopard," Dash groaned, tearing off the skin from the paws. "Look, we don't have the energy to make it to that castle, let alone get everyone out. I'm asking you as a friend to stay with me, and at least rest for the night."

Fiona hated the fact that Dash was correct. She would never make it to the castle in her current condition. She would have to find another source of food, but making a camp would certainly be helpful. She took one final look at the castle in a pathetic mixture of despair and hope.

Please, just hold out a little longer, Tara, she thought. I'll be there soon.

__________

"He's just sitting there," commented 0071.

"Don't you think I can see that?" retorted 0193.

"Should we hit him, or something?"

"He's just luring you into a false sense of security."

"He's kind of creepy…"

"Don't worry. He's in the cell, and you're out here… with a gun. He is not going to cause any harm."

The Unknown sat on crossed legs, not moving in the slightest. 0071 regretted not taking off the mask before locking him within the cell. The faceless man could have been staring directly at him, or maybe he was sleeping quietly. No one would ever know, but the uncertainty only made guarding the cell even creepier.

"Hold up, I'm getting a call," 0193 stated. He pulled out his radio. "Yeah?"

"How's the prisoner?" came a voice from the radio.

"He's not a concern," 0193 said. "King Sombra has created his new set of conduct?"

"Yes, he has," said the voice. "Soon, he'll have to get us bigger paychecks."

"Sombra won't succeed," The Unknown spoke up, remaining perfectly still. "Those girls will take him down, and once they do, I will get what I deserve."

"Those little girls are nothing," 0071 claimed. "We got them all locked up."

"I have faith in their abilities," The Unknown said dryly. "And I'll have to be the first to remind you ingrates that four of them have escaped your capture. Honestly, you don't stand much of a chance."

"They won't be free for long," 0193 said. He spoke to the radio. "He's on the case, right?"

"How could he not be?" said the voice. "Once Devilman gets a whiff of the action, he won't rest until he becomes satisfied."

"Who's Devilman?" The Unknown asked, mildly curious.

"The best we got around," 0071 proudly said. "Those little girls are going to be cut into pieces by the end of the day."

The Unknown couldn't help but chuckle.

"Oh, my sad friend," he said. "You have no idea what you're up against. I'd be wary. After all, what you don't know most certainly can hurt you."

__________

"It's official… we're screwed," Pinky sighed. "I mean, it would be bad enough that we're blocked off from the server, but I have no idea where I'm going. It's like we're running around blind… no offense."

"I think our current predicament is more of a concern than a Freudian slip, Pinky," Rachel groaned.

"Really? I was going to say that losing contact with everyone else was the biggest concern of all… but hey, apples and oranges, right?"

"Ugh…"

Rachel couldn't decide whether being trapped in the dark passageway with Pinky was calming or irritating. Thanks to some rather impressive interrogation of 0221 (which she only accomplished by shattering an extra three of his bones), Rachel had learned of a hidden passage used for maneuvering throughout the castle. While contact with Tara had been lost, she knew that she was intelligent enough to handle such a delicate operation.

Unfortunately, Pinky had nearly ruined the entire thing by executing the guard via gunshot, and then almost failed to make it into the secret gate before more soldiers had arrived. Perhaps it was the sheer difference in brain power that was creating such a sense of frustration, but Pinky, despite all of her uses, seemed more like extra baggage than anything else. And now, having been lead down a dead end for the fifth time, Rachel was starting to question most of her decisions she had made to reach this point.

"I wish I had a flashlight, or something," Pinky moaned. "This is super annoying… I can't see a thing."

"Pinky…"

"Seriously, I swear I'm not doing this on purpose!" Pinky raised her hands in defense. "You don't have a flashlight on you though, do you?"

"First of all, what the hell is a flashlight?" Rachel gave a quizzical look. "Second of all, I'm wearing tight sweatpants. Do I look like I can carry anything?"

"Not really," Pinky said with disinterest. She looked around, walking forward mindlessly in the dark caverns. "Man, this place looks like those caves the Russian guys had. Doesn't it? Oh…"

"Pinky… please stop talking."

"Sorry, I'll stop now," Pinky moaned. The two continued on their journey into shadows.

"But honestly, what's a flashlight?" Rachel asked.

"You know, that cylinder thing that shines out a big light," Pinky tried her best to explain the seemingly foreign concept. "There's a button, and it goes 'Click!', and then you can make shadow puppets from the light. Do you not have those in England?"

"Are you talking about a torch?" Rachel asked with slight confusion. "Is that what they call it here? That's a stupid name… if it doesn't flash, why is it called a flashlight?"

"I don't know," Pinky claimed. "What do I look like? A flashlight expert? And... I just did it again, didn't I?"

"It's like a never-ending train wreck," Rachel groaned. "Just keep an eye out for any hidden openings. That guard said there would be some form of indication of a door."

"We've been looking for hours," Pinky said. "This place can't be that big. I mean, if we haven't found it by now, we might have just been going in circles. What if we never find this thing? We could be stuck down here for days, or maybe months, or maybe—"

Smack

Pinky, in her babbling, had lost all sense of direction, and walked directly into a cold slab of granite. Rachel paused as the sound the almost crunchy sound hit her ears. She turned her head towards the noise, more curious than concerned.

"Are you alright?" Rachel asked to the darkness. Pinky rose to her feet, holding her nose.

"Ow ow ow ow," said the hurt teen. "I think I broke my nose."

"Your voice would be more garbled if you broke your nose," Rachel stated factually. "Still, you might have bruised it somewhat. Are you bleeding, by any chance?"

Pinky rubbed her fingers together, feeling a thin layer of moisture. "Uh, yeah," she said. "Man, this hurts."

Pinky leaned back against the granite wall, unaware that she was slowly falling backwards.

"I'm not going to get my nose cut off, right? Cuz that would suuu—Whoa!"

The wall behind her gave way, swinging ajar with little warning. Rachel heard the sound of crumbling rock, metal grinding against metal, a dull thud, and Pinky screaming in fear and confusion.

"Um… did you find something?" Rachel asked. Pinky groaned. She lay flat on her back, her feet extended up in the air as if caught by invisible tethers to be strung up from the ceiling. Rolling her head back, she observed the empty hall in which she collapsed to. Unlike the rest of the pristine estate, this particular corridor seemed bland. The walls were charcoal in color, and there were no extravagant items lining the walls. All that was present, aside from the bleakness, was a gray door, tightly jutted into the stone.

"Hey, I thing we found it!" Pinky proudly pronounced, hopping to her feet. "See, I told you that we would find our way out, but you just kept doubting me. Well, who's doubting now, huh?"

"Pinky, open the damn door already," Rachel said dryly, steeping out into the corridor. "And get that pistol ready. Who knows how long it'll take for the guards to find us."

"Good point," Pinky quickly agreed, checking the ammunition on her newly acquired weapon. She moaned distastefully after realizing that she had smeared blood on the grip, but otherwise felt prepared to free her friends.

But then, Rachel thought of something strange.

"Wait a second… shouldn't the guards already be here?" she asked, keeping her ears open. There were no signs of human life on either side of them, which was more distressing than not.

"Who cares?" Pinky shrugged. "Our friends are right here."

"But the guards should know that," Rachel said, resting her finger on her temple. "It seems like they should have prepared for us to come this way, but they left it unguarded. This seems almost like a—"

CRACK

With tremendous force, something wrapped tightly around Rachel's calf, and then dragged her across the room. Pinky jumped back in shock as Rachel rolled around desperately trying to free herself. Upon calming herself, Pinky took notice that someone was standing at the end of the hall twenty-five feet away, dragging Rachel on the floor with a thick whip.

Although mostly concealed by shadow, Pinky could make out the outline of a monstrous figure. His body was covered with thick, red and black armor, which bulked him up to an unnatural degree. He wore almost a dome over his head, with two spikes protruding from the sides.

"Come here, little piggy!" the man taunted as Rachel drew ever closer. He tugged on the whip harder, moving one hand over the other until Rachel was less than a yard away. He scooped her by the ankle, and dangled her upside down.

"Let go of me, you piece of shit! Rachel flailed her limbs about helplessly.

"Aren't you a pretty one?" the large man laughed.

Bang Bang Bang

Bullets bounced off of the plating with no effect. Pinky could only groan in frustration.

"Rachel, stop moving! I don't want to hit you!' Pinky ordered.

"Stop firing and help me already!" Rachel screamed. The large man started to walk towards Pinky, keeping his grip on Rachel firm.

"Come on, come on, come on," he said. "I want to see you fight. Don't be shy, now."

Devilman, as he had come to be known, had perhaps been both one of the best and worst decisions ever made by King Klius Daltenoss. A proud native of Essex, he was arrested on account of kidnapping and torturing over twelve people for satanic rituals, including maim and rape. Perhaps it was the dedication that sparked the king's interest, or maybe it was the sheer power he possessed, but either way, he was released from prison later that year, and transformed into guard number, "0666", out of a sense of commitment and humor.

Upon stepping forth into the light, Pinky could come to grips with the exact limits of this deranged obsession. Not only was the man tall and strong, but his armor, which left no section uncovered, was decorated with messy drawings of satanic imagery and poems, including a scribbly "666" across the chest. The helmet, which covered Devilman's face, was painted with a demon's face, and the two spikes which stuck out of odd angles were his horns.

"Please don't kill me, monster man," Pinky said in a child-like squeak.

"I ain't gonna kill ya yet," Devilman said, marching ever closer. "I got some plans for ya."

"Pinky, do something!" Rachel said, still struggling to free herself.

"I'm not good at fighting," Pinky muttered, slowly backing away from the threat at hand. "There's a reason I use guns, you British nutcase."

"Damn it, Pinky, my heart is racing here," Rachel said. "At least fight him for a tad bit, just to make things exciting."

"Why are you emphasizing words?" Pinky angrily whispered. "This is not the time to—Oh, yeah. Gotcha."

Pinky lunged towards Devilman, trying her best to seem frightening. Unfortunately, as she had said herself, Pinky's hand-to-hand combat abilities were not by any means, "good". Using his free hand, Devilman took ahold of Pinky's fist, and tossed her across the hall. With little effort, he flung Rachel in the same direction, causing the girls to crash into each other.

"Can you fight yet?" Pinky asked, pushing her friend off of her stomach.

"Not as well as I'd like," Rachel moaned, pushing herself off of the floor. The dancing colors of red and violet started to take shape into actual people, but she did not have any more time to waste. Rachel, staying low to the ground, charged at her attacker, watching a dazzling display of lights play out before her. She heard the crack of a whip, and a wave of red spread out through the air, passing straight into her right arm. She slid to the left, and then dived into Devilman's legs. She moved like a snake, weaving around his limbs in a series of flexible twists and turns. Before anyone really knew what was happening, Rachel had climbed her way onto his back, and was now delivering a series of nerve strikes to the chinks in his armor.

"Woohoo! Kick his butt, Rachel!" Pinky cheered. She watched intently as her friend held on tightly, delivering brilliantly placed attacks to her foe. Despite him staying on his feet and persistently letting out growls, Pinky could tell that Devilman was going to fall soon. It was simply a matter of time.

And then, something unexpected happened. Devilman, using the last bit of his strength, ran backwards into the granite wall, and repeatedly banged into the hard surface. There was a sickening crack, and then Rachel sent out a terrifying scream. Her arms became lifeless, and she dropped pathetically to the ground. Rachel rolled about in agony, her face contorted into a mess of gritted teeth and moist eyes.

Pinky couldn't help but notice a painful similarity. Seeing Rachel suffer brought back the dreadful memories of her legs shattering under the pressure of a Russian boot, splintering apart at the seams. There was nothing she could do to prevent the feelings of suffering, guilt, shame, and horror of that night, and her rational thoughts morphed into a cacophony of fear and anguish.

Overcome by her emotions, Pinky did the only sensible thing she could think of: she ran. She sprinted as fast as her mechanic legs could take her.

CRACK

She barely got five feet. The whip lashed across her back, leaving a deep, bloody streak imprinted on her torso. With a bloodcurdling yell, she fell to her knees. Pain took hold, and she could no longer support herself.

CRACK

The whip struck again, striking the other wound at a perpendicular angle. Pinky would have heard a man laughing if not for the ringing.

CRACK

A third strike, this time at the base of spine. Pinky had no more energy left. She didn't even scream, for she was too weak to do so. Voiceless, she finally fell over onto her chest, and closed her eyes.

"Ah, you girls will be perfect," she heard Devilman say. "King Sombra can live without knowing what happened to you two. There are far more important things to take care of."

__________

Fiona was absolutely amazed to discover that she had a pleasant dream. She knew it was crazy, considering the circumstances, yet at some time during her slumber, she realized that things were going over smoothly. When she had forced herself to sleep on the cold, hard earth, looking away from Dash gnawing on the remains of a poor forest creature, she thought that she would be in for a rough night.

Alas, when she opened her eyes at the break of dusk, she found that she was quite warm, and surrounded by something surprisingly soft. Her wings (which she couldn't remember taking out) were wrapped over her form, protecting her from the damp soil beneath. They must have instinctively covered her during the night, she realized. She groggily raised herself off of the roots of a tree, examining the remains of a campsite that surrounded her. The two bright blue objects, as if reading her mind, dissolved into her skin, merging back into her flesh. Perhaps, she briefly thought, the wretched things were not as bad as she previously thought.

"Rise and shine, cocksucker," Dash said from behind, giving Fiona an unceremonious smack to the forehead. "We got a lot of work to do."

"We do?" Fiona asked, distracted by the sting on her now-red face. She could not, for the life of her, figure out why there was a sense of urgency. Sure, there was a leopard corpse lying not too far away (which made Fiona want to throw up), but that was nothing that Dash would be concerned over.

At this moment, she plucked out a particular memory of her friends being held captive. With a sudden burst of energy, Fiona sprung up to her feet, and fearfully looked about the environment. Aside from the all-identical trees, the magnificent cliff stuck up from the tips of the branches, a pillar of rock from the vastness of green.

"Come on, let's go!" Fiona ordered, taking up the need for hurrying. She moved as fast as she could toward the cliff, adrenaline blocking out all sensation of pain. Her wounds were covered with grime and mud, and she had not eaten fully in a very long while. This could not stop her, as she plowed to her goal.

"Whoa there, cowgirl," Dash said, suddenly appearing to block Fiona's path. "You gotta take a breather. You're zooming around like a fucking roadrunner."

"Dash, our friends are in there!" Fiona spoke with haste. "They've been in there for almost the whole day! We need to—"

"We need to strategize," Dash said. She reflected. "Wow, that sounded weird to say."

"We don't have time," Fiona said, trying (and failing) to weave around Dash.

"Look, you pink-haired piece of shit," Dash reasoned. "Tara's captured, and as far as we know, so is everyone else. That means one of has to take charge, and considering how you're too busy fingering yourself to shitty, French films, I'm taking charge."

"Then do what you're used to doing: move fast," Fiona said. "Tara's trapped in there, and we—"

"Shut the fuck up, will ya?" Dash groaned. "Look, I know you and Spark are like, 'best buds', but this is my one chance to lead, and I'm doing it right. So…"

Dash looked up at the estate through the trees.

"How are we going to get up there?"

Fiona never thought about that. She never thought about it at all.

"And how do we get past the guards?"

Fiona stammered about to say something, but her words came out mumbled.

"And how do we even know where they would be, if they're still alive?"

Fiona opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it.

"And, assuming they're still alive, and can still fight, and we can escape the castle, where the hell are we supposed to go? Or how do we deal with the mad king? Or how do we explain we kick started an international incident to Celestia? Or…"

Dash mentally slapped herself.

"Jesus Christ, I sound like a fucking asshole."

"No, you're right," Fiona said, unable to believe that Dash was making a perfectly logical argument. "I'm just freaking out, that's all."

"Fiona, everyone will be fine," Dash reassured. "Now, sit your ass down, and let's do something productive."

With a sigh, Fiona lowered herself to the floor, while Dash crossed her arms and rested against a tree. In what she considered to be the strangest moment of her life, Dash tried to come up with a plan. She had seen Tara strategize plenty of times, so it did not seem like it would be too difficult to replicate. Unfortunately, thinking ahead was not her strong suit, and despite knowing the problems she would have to face, she couldn't come up with much more than, "kill guards, save friends."

"First, we're going to need to get in the castle," Fiona stated. "Helping the others won't do any good if we're stuck out here."

"Hey, you still have those wings, right?" asked Dash. Fiona nodded. "Can you fly up and search for an entrance through the cliff?"

"Why would there be an entrance through the cliff?" Fiona asked.

"Okay, this is just my theory, but…" Dash said. "Don't old castles have a bunch of secret exits for emergency escapes? Like, isn't that the thing that castles are known for?"

"Well, I guess…"

"And wouldn't there also need to be a route for people to get down to the forest from the castle?" Dash suggested. "You know, like for mining of some shit? The biggest mines here are about ten miles away from the castle, and I didn't see any alternate routes."

"Yeah. Wait, how did you remember that fact about the mines?" Fiona asked, surprised.

"Believe it or not, I actually pay attention when Spark tries to teach us some geographical bullshit," Dash said with an air of smugness. "Unlike some other people who claim to be her friends."

"Hey…" Fiona groaned.

"So be a good friend now, and search for an entrance," Dash ordered.

"But you do realize it's getting dark," Fiona said. "It's going to be hard to— Hey, let go!"

Dash unceremoniously grabbed onto Fiona's hair, and pulled her to her feet. She contorted the girl backwards, tugging her head repeatedly.

"Don't fucking question me!" Dash shouted. "Do you want to be helpful or not?!"

"Yes…"

"Then are you going to stop acting like a little bitch?!"

"Yes! Just please let go. You're hurting me."

"Deal with the fucking pain!"

"Please let go of me. Ow!"

Dash, with absolutely no hint of kindness, through Fiona away, and angrily groaned. Fiona stumbled to her knees, rubbing her bruised scalp. Any previous inclination that her rebellious friend would have made a decent leader vanished, in such an embarrassing manner that Fiona almost felt ashamed for even allowing said thought to cross her mind. Still, her desperation to find Tara made her reluctantly sigh, and unfold the large pair of wings from her back.

Except this time, the resulting action hurt much more than she recalled. If she wasn't already on her knees, she most certainly would have collapsed onto them. The wings trembled with the humble girl, as, for the first time, Dash noticed a trail of blood running down Fiona's sides, emulating from her back.

"Oh, shit, you got hurt," Dash said, curiously walking around the wounded woman.

"Of course, I'm hurt," Fiona said, almost angrily. She whimpered in pain, sounding less like a girl and more like a wounded puppy. "I (groan) crashed on the way down here."

"Yeah, looks like you got a pretty nasty cut across your back," Dash commented, carefully lifting the back of Fiona's tattered shirt. A long, diagonal cut struck directly across her back, crossing over the bases of the wings. "How did you not notice them before?"

"I think I actually did," Fiona muttered. One feeling of pain gave way to another, and soon, it seemed like every little scratch n her body was crying out in agony. She had been so focused on the mission that she had failed to care for herself at all. Just a few minutes ago, she felt like she would have died to save the lives of her friends, just like she did back in Haddonfield, and yet again in the morgue. One of these days, instead of making a mental note to see a psychiatrist, she felt as if she should actually see one.

But she did not want to disappoint Dash, who technically was the leader at that point, and so she flew up to the sky and narrowly passed between the thick brush. The estate itself was lit up like a firecracker; most likely the third and final night of the ball. The light gleamed across the rocky cliff, scattering the rays down into the never-ending sea. Cloaked by darkness, she scanned the base of the cliff, searching for any indication of human development. Amazingly, she discovered another light source at the base of the cliff, which emitted its own equally bright glow. More than that, the light seemed to be coming from a tunnel of sorts, carved into the rock face.

Fiona fluttered to the ground in a humbled manner. It almost hurt to admit that Dash was in fact right about her theory, but she forced the words to leave her lips.

"There's a tunnel," Fiona said, never making eye contact. "Dead center in the cliff. It might lead up to the castle."

"I hate to say that I told you so," Dash grinned, starting her proud stride towards the castle. "Get a move on, butterfly. We're doing this thing tonight."

"You know, I'm still hurt," Fiona said, folding away her wings.

"Yeah, I know. Stop being a bitch about it," Dash said, never looking back. With a sigh, Fiona followed the person who had formally been considered a friend (which added to the list of things she was questioning).

Do it for P.O.N.Y, Fiona thought, trudging over dirt and roots. The two walked tirelessly through the forest, blistering their feet and draining their energy. The cool night wind, which normally would have brought relief, only hit their exposed skin harder, passing through to the bone. In the distance, they could hear people chatting away, blissfully unaware of their presence. The light in the distance grew closer, and after a few minutes of quietly stumbling, Fiona could finally make out the hsadows dancing around the rock face. Dash slipped behind some foliage, and peered over into a makeshift campsite. Fiona slid next to her, and carefully observed.

The tunnel was in fact there, large enough to easily fit a tank through. Five guards sat bored on crates scattered near the entrance, having nothing to do except look over a military jeep, which was parked inside.

"This is so boring," one guard said, leaning back on a box. "Why can't we have ball duty tonight?"

"Because we need to block this entrance into the building," another guard said. "Haven't you heard? The king is dead. Sombra's taken over now, and he doesn't want his prisoners getting out."

"Klius is gone?" said the first guard. "How have I not heard this?"

"Because you sleep too often," claimed yet another guard, earning various chuckles from the group.

"Seriously, who does he have holed up in there?" asked the guard.

"I saw them," said a guard close to the door. "Bunch of girls. Cute ones. I saw it all myself. Two of them leapt out of the window in the king's throne room."

"Man, I've really been missing out on things, haven't I?" said the guard. "First the king, and now suicidal kids. If I don't get rest, I'll—Grrk!"

Dash removed the knife from the man's throne, splattering blood on the soil beneath her. She adjusted her grip, and then drove the blade into the throat of the next guard, as she was fired upon from all angles. Swiping her kill's gun, she ducked behind the crate, waiting for the gunfire to cease. She could feel the wood splintering in her back as the bullets cracked through the rot, narrowly missing her. Finally, she heard the guards stop to reload, and she spun around, taking out two guards before she was forced to take cove once more. Fortunately, Fiona had come to the rescue, tackling the lone guard and breaking his arms. Her body still ached, begging her not to fight, but she ignored her will.

"Aaah!" the guard screamed as his elbow twisted backwards.

Fiona hated herself. Why did she have to cause someone so much pain? Why did it seem like all she did was cause pain to others? It seemed like every moment she spent over the last few months was in failing others. Whether it be direct or not, she could never remove the idea that she was hurting people around her, more so than anyone else. It felt so peculiar to her; here, snapping the arm of an innocent man, who was only doing what he was told, made her feel diseased. She felt something entirely unfamiliar whenever she was in these situations, and she didn't even know what it was, yet she hated it. Or, maybe she loved it? Every single ounce of self-hate and pain and pressure seemed to be building in her mind, and it was certainly concerning.

However, like most of her reflections into her psyche, something had to end it in a rather abrupt fashion. On this occasion, it was Dash grabbing her by the hair, and dragging her to the truck (which Dash herself found to be a very effective method for moving people).

"Stop standing around like a fucking retard and get in," Dash ordered, pushing Fiona towards the passenger seat of the vehicle.

"Why are we getting in here?" Fiona asked. "This is wont do us good for getting into the castle, especially since the door is right there."

"Shut up and hop in," Dash said with a grin. "I think I've finally come up with a plan. A plan that I can be proud of."

Oh no, Fiona thought with despair. This can't be good.

__________

Pinky hated the color red. She loved pink. She was growing to like black. But she could not stand the color red. So strange, considering that red was one of the colors that made up pink, and she had a specialty for planting bullets into others skulls, but she could not change what she was. Maybe it was something in her childhood that caused such distaste for that one particular color of the rainbow, but she wouldn't know what it was.

Why then, did she have to be in a hellish, steaming hot, red room, chained helplessly to the wall? Even if she closed her eyes, the red would seep through and imprint on her mind. It only added to her already-pounding level of stress. It was bad enough her back was in agony and bleeding heavily, not to mention that Rachel was struggling to free herself in the corner, and there was a rather large, shirtless man making some concoction of foreign materials to her right. But why red? Of all the people to be tortured by, what did he need to have an obsession with red?

"Rachel," Pinky whispered hoarsely. "We need to get out of here. Hey. Are you even listening to me?"

"I think my collarbone is broken," Rachel spat. She moaned, wishing silently that her bonds weren't kept above her head. She started to whisper to herself the name of every bone in the human body. She needed to take her mind off of the fact that she was being bound and was about to be tortured. She had to keep saying the names, otherwise reality would hit her. Rachel couldn't allow that to happen. She refused to believe that she was being held captive again. She refused to believe that she was about to suffer unimaginable pain again. No, it simply would not do. So she said the names of bones with shut eyes and fierce determination, ignoring everything else that was going on around her.

"Oh, you two are just going to be lovely," Devilman said, mixing around a thick liquid in a wooden bowl. "I haven't sacrificed in a while, and I'm sure He is none too pleased."

"Did he just say, 'sacrifice'?" Pinky asked herself.

"Oh, the time is almost right," Devilman said in anticipation. "The moon is rising high; the perfect time for the slaughter. Hehehe."

"This guy is craaaaaaazy," Pinky muttered under her breath. "He's talking to himself and laughing creepily."

"Ah, the mixture is done," Devilman said happily, hovering over his bowl. With steady hands, he turned around, and placed the bowl in the center of the room. Pinky noticed that she couldn't be in a space much larger than a closet, which unfortunately meant that she could smell the fluid before she could make out what it was.

"Is that blood?" Pinky asked, almost expecting an answer. The smell and the claustrophobic atmosphere and the red were all getting to her, and she was slowly becoming more hysterical as she spoke. "I mean, it kind of smells like blood, and its red and murky and, well, bloody, and what are you doing with blood, and… is that a pentagram on the floor? Why do you have a pentagram on the floor? Are you mad? What are you—"

"Shut up," Devilman said, never taking his eyes off of the floor. "Having you talk is not part of the process."

"Being sacrificed shouldn't be part of the process!" Pinky protested. However, Devilman paid no mind, picking up the blood-filled saucer, and dipping a brush inside of it, swirling it around and around.

"This is the combined blood of the lamb, the rodent, and the ape," Devilman said, lifting the brush. "You should feel honored that this is allowed to touch your skin."

"Wait, you're doing what with that!?" Pinky screamed, trying to move as far away from the brush as possible. Unfortunately, any movement put strain on her scarred back, and it wasn't as if she had room to move regardless.

Much to her joined horror and disgust, Devilman took the brush, and delicately started to rub it against her face. She cringed as the moist bristles made contact with her cheeks, feeling the putrid bloody mixture slide across her skin. Devilman stroked the brush across her nose, allowing it to tingle across every pore, every molecule of skin it could fine. He slowly crept it up to her eye, and then swiped it across her forehead. Pinky felt as if she were being molested. The sensation of the brush felt like a million tiny fingers pressing into her mind, trying to caress her mind. The blood trickled down her neck, and started to flow underneath her shirt, exposing even more of her body to the hideous mixture.

It seemed, finally, that Devilman's procedure had come to a close. He removed the brush, placing it back into the bowl, and walked back to the center of the room. He briefly looked at Rachel, who hadn't even noticed Pinky's whimpers and struggles. Lost in her mantra of bones, Devilman decided to leave her alone for the time being.

"Rachel, help me!" Pinky begged, rattling against her bonds. "I'm getting really scared here!"

"Please stop shouting," Devilman said, eerily calm. "No one is going to hear you. Now…"

Devilman returned with two silver objects; a pick, and a hook. He grabbed onto the base of Pinky's shirt, and raised it up, exposing her stomach. He placed an open palm to her belly, and then rested his head against it, almost as if he was listening to the contents within. At last, he smiled.

"Ah, you have healthy organs," he said happily.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" Pinky wriggled around, desperately trying to get free. She was starting to lose her mind. What was going to happen to her? She had no idea what limit she as going to be pushed to. The blood smeared against her face was starting to stick, and she grew ever more afraid. Then, making things worse, Devilman started to laugh.

"First, I'll need to make a nice incision along the naval," he stated, dragging the silver pick up Pinky's stomach. "He will be very upset I haven't sent Him anything in a while, so most of your organs will have to be removed. Of course, it's very important that the stomach stays in place. Otherwise, how will you ever be able to digest?"

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Pinky thought, her eyes dashing around the room, searching for something, anything that could help her escape. She tried to free her hands, but it was no use; her handcuffs were attached to a spike, which was impaled deep in the wall. There was no way she could get free by herself.

But then again, she wasn't by herself.

"Rachel, stop panicking and help me!" Pinky begged. "I'm going to have to eat my own organs here! Snap out of it, and get me out!"

Rachel said nothing. It was if all of her smarts and confidence had never even existed. She retreated back inside of herself, cold, afraid, and unable to do anything except wait for the screaming to begin. It wasn't even like she could do anything if she wanted to. Her chains were just as tight as Pinky's were. No matter how much adrenaline was pumping through her veins, she couldn't do anything tied to a wall.

And at that moment, Pinky realized she was about to die. She didn't think it was possible. How, after all she had survived, could she end up being sacrificed to demons by one crazy guard in Africa? She had survived seeing her father's skull get blown apart. She had survived seeing over one hundred innocent students die around her, and being chased around by homicidal maniacs. She had survived fighting assassins and gangsters, and even psychotic swordsmen. Hell, she had even survived getting her legs nearly ripped in half by the Korbalovs. But this was how she was going to die? It was an insult. Why couldn't she die saving the world, or protecting her friends, or anything that wasn't as sad and pathetic as this?

Pinky sighed. There was nothing she could do. It was all over. She was going to be carved up like a Christmas turkey, and forced to commit self-cannibalism before being given the permission of ending her life. She couldn't hoe to be saved. She couldn't even hope that it would be painless.

She only hoped that she would die fast.

CRASH

The room rumbled. Outside, screams and gunfire could be heard. The bowl on the floor rattled until finally tipping over, spilling blood over the decorated floor. Devilman spun around, trying to find the source of the rumbling. However, he saw nothing except the deep red walls shaking, and his two prisoners acting equally surprised.

As if it was fate itself intervening, the excessive rumbling had loosened the spike from the wall, removing it by several inches. Pinky ceased the opportunity while Devilman was looking away. With some awkward bending of her fingers, she grabbed onto the spike, and yanked as hard as she could. It wobbled in place for a moment before sliding out of the wall, its sharp end exposed. With nothing to hold her, Pinky lunged down towards her captor, extending the spike downwards. Devilman only had time to glance up in confusion before the silver object was rammed into his eye, spurting more blood onto the floor. Pinky did not feel as revolted as she would have proffered, as Devilman squirmed around beneath her. Fortunately, his suffering was brief, and he died while lying flat across a bloody pentagram.

"I got him!" Pinky said, relieved. She stood upright, and wiped the blood on her pajama bottoms. She walked over to Rachel, and used the spike to break her friend's bonds. The Brit fell to the floor, shivering like mad, and stuttering an incomprehensible slew of words.

"Hey, you can open your eyes now," Pinky shook her friend to no avail. "He's dead. No one's going to hurt you."

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry…"

"Hey, Rachel! Snap out of it!" Pinky shouted, still getting no response.

"No more pain no more pain…"

"Ugh…" Pinky groaned, walking away in frustration. Stepping over the bloody corpse, Pinky opened the door.

BANGBANGBANGBANG

A guard dropped dead at her feet. Turning her head, she saw the extremely pleasant sight of Dash mowing down troops with an assault rifle, while Fiona waited behind cover, holding her hands over her ears. Most remaining guards were retreating down the hall, which eventually split off into a staircase.

"Yoohoo, over here!" the blonde called to her friends. With the threat diminished, Dash jogged to the hellish room, and looked inside. Fiona followed closely, keeping an eye out for any more guards.

"What have you two been up to?" Dash asked, noticing the body and devilish imagery.

"Oh, nothing really. Crazy guy, torture room, devil worship… the usual," Pinky said.

"Is Rachel alright?" Fiona asked. "She looks horrified."

"She's in shock," Pinky explained, moving out of Fiona's way. "Something about the room freaked her out."

"It's okay, Rachel," Fiona knelt by her fallen friend, and gave her a hug. "We're all here now. Let's get out of here, okay?"

Rachel said nothing.

"She just needs a few minutes," Fiona stated, rubbing her back, like a mother soothing her startled child. "I hate waiting around, but I think we might want to hold down for a few minutes. Can you two keep a lookout?"

"Can I have a gun?" Pinky asked, holding her hands out in wait. A pistol was dropped into her arms. "Yeah, I think we can handle this."

Footsteps raced down the corridor. In the distance, the faint sign of human life came into view. Dash and Pinky took aim.

"You ready?" Dash asked, almost challengingly. "I know you just got objectified in there, so if this is too much for you, you're allowed to take a break."

"Just get ready to fire, Dash," Pinky said snidely. "We have a lot more guards to face up ahead. You have plenty of time for sarcasm later."

"Whatever you say, you hyperactive dipshit. Whatever you say…"

__________

Chink chink chink

AJ sighed. It was hopeless. Tara mumbled beside her, only starting to regain some sense of where she was.

"Can't… can't fail… not yet…"

"Damn it, girl, focus," AJ said in an irritated drone. How long had it been since she was taken captive? It felt like an eternity. It was not like anything was going on that could have distracted her; just sheer darkness, and silence. How long would it be until she as free, if she ever would be free?

"Ashes… ashes… we all fall…"

"Tara, I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, but you're being drugged. Open your eyes, and focus."

"Down… all fall down… falling and falling and falling…"

AJ grunted. She tried as hard as she could to pull away from the wall. Even with her hands and feet bound tightly to the stone, she was able to raise her body half of a foot horizontally. But after a few minutes, she found that she didn't have the strength to keep fighting. Her arms were sore. Her legs were sore. She was sore. In the end, it all seemed hopeless. There really was no point in trying to break free. All she could do now was wake Tara up.

"It's so dark… why is it dark?"

"Tara, you're babbling again," she groaned. "Why am I even bothering? It's not like yer gonna understand me."

"AJ? What… is that you?"

Never before had Anna-Jean Balle smiled as brightly as she did in that moment.

"Tara, thank god yer finally awake," she said, her voice full of relief.

"So tired…" Tara moaned, slowly rotated her head in a circle. "I see them… my family…"

"Tara, don't pay attention to them!" AJ warned. "Look, yer being drugged. I need you to focus on my voice."

"It's so hard… can't think right… ugh."

Tara's eyes briefly fluttered open, but then quickly drew closed.

"Need to rest, AJ… a few minutes…"

"Tara, don't fall asleep! Yer mind is being fucked with. You need to fight off whatever urges are coming over you."

"Ugh… I… need to focus on something," Tara said, shaking her head as fast as she could manage. "I need some sort of… anchor, I think… keep my mind occupied."

"Anchor? Like what?"

"I don't know… I… ugh…"

Tara's head dropped, as everything around her was starting to become hazy once more. Nothing was clear; she knew what she needed to be doing, but couldn't fight all of the hallucinations forcing her to sleep.

"Talk to me," Tara suggested, her mind rapidly emptying. "Let me… focus on your… voice, I guess… oh, I miss my brother…"

"Stay with me, now," AJ said. "Don't stop listening to me. Okay, AJ, talk about something, anything, just think fast…"

Suddenly, AJ realized something she could talk about; something she knew in great detail, and could actually last for hours, if need be.

"Hey, Tara, want to hear the story of how I met Mac?" she asked. Tara verbally responded with a groan, but she barely managed to nod her head. "Okay, now let me think for a second."

Where to begin? There were so many things that she could have told? She had eight years of experience to work from, and sorting everything out would be a laborious mental process. So, she decided to start from the beginning. The very beginning.

"I first met Mac when I was five," AJ explained. "Well, 'met' really aint the right word, I suppose. I guess it should be something more dramatic, but it really aint important. Now, way back then, I lived in this little town in Illinois. At least, that's what they tell me. I really don't remember too much from back then. I know I had two parents who loved me and whatnot, 'cept my dad was always away for his work. He was nice when he was around though, and that's pretty good. I also remember being really excited about my new baby sister, Kaitlyn. She was cute, and, well, baby-ish, I suppose. I never had the chance to do any stuff with her. Maybe I did, but most of that time is just flashes to me, like old photographs, or something."

"Okay, okay," Tara said, listening intently. "Past, flashes, got it. Keep going."

"Well, there was this county fair," AJ said, thinking fondly. "And I liked going to it a lot. It's where I got this hat from. But one year, we spent a lot of time at the fair, and it was just great. Didn't leave till it was real late. So, we got home, and me and my dad went to play outside. I think I might have remembered something about my stove or something. Didn't think too much of it at the time, but that damn oven cost me so much. My father went in for one moment, just to check something strange. I was the only one out of that house at the time."

"I guess that's where fate took control of my life; the whole house just burst into flames. I saw my home burn to the ground, with my family somewhere inside. Of course, I was a stupid kid back then, and so I did what all stupid kids woulda done: I ran into the house. I don't recall much about that either, just that everythin' was hot and smoky, and I got really lost. I coulda been in that place for hours, searching aimlessly for people I would never find. But that didn't happen neither, cuz I got scooped up by this big, strong man, and he took me outa the house."

"Mac?" Tara asked, her words sounding gurgled.

"Yep, that was how I met him," AJ said. "Turns out fate was real kind to me that day. He was literally just driving by when he saw the smoke high in the air, if you can believe that bit of luck. Man risked everythin' tryin' to find survivors in that house, but all he found was me. It was really a risk for him, cuz he had this super-rare condition where his eyes were hyper-sensitive to light, an' the slightest amount of sunlight could cause a lot of damage to him. He wore these big shades all the time. You'd have to see it to understand."

AJ was starting to get lost in the story. Even though her goal was supposed to be helping Tara keep awake, she couldn't help but dwell longer in each individual memory than she should have. It actually took Tara to groan before AJ got back to her original task.

"So, anyway, he took me into his car, and drove me away from the place. I remember kicking and screaming at the time, but he was really just trying to help. Turns out that Mac was this big-time government agent, and he brought me down to this secret base in God-knows-where. That's where I happened to meet Celestia. She and Mac had a private conversation. I heard 'em talking about what they were gonna do with me. I didn't have a home anymore, and they couldn't kick me out on the street. Mac told me that he wanted me to stay with him, but Celestia had a lot of doubts. But I guess, in the end, he won, cuz next thing I knew, I was training nonstop under Mac's supervision. I learned everythin' I know from him. I called that base my home. I slept there, I ate there, and I don't think I really ever left there, either."

"That was basically my life back then. Celestia wanted me to start goin' on assignments, put my training to good use. But Mac was against the whole thing; he kept saying that I wasn't ready to face real-life threats just yet, even though I really wanted to. He left on missions of his own a lot, and Celestia tried to persuade me into following her orders. But I didn't want to disappoint Mac, cuz he was the only real family I got, and dying on my first mission wouldn't be very good now, would it?"

"Never went on missions…" Tara repeated in her dream-like state. "Don't disappoint. Understood."

"But when I did finally go on a mission," AJ said, recalling the event with grand fondness. "It was much less stressful than I thought. Mac protested at first, but I was thirteen by that point, an' he didn't hold a candle to me. I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions. So, I got put on this assignment on taking down a crime family. They were having some big meeting with this other guy, who everyone kept calling, 'expendable'. The action was everythin' I was hoping for: intense, adrenaline-pumping, high-skill takedowns. They didn't stand a chance against me, an' I don't think I've ever felt as proud as I have that night."

"Because you're talented," Tara spoke drearily.

"Thanks," AJ said proudly. "When I got back, everyone seemed so pleased. I'm pretty sure I was coated in blood and carrying my weapons around like an idiot, but no one cared. They were all just so happy that I was able to get the mission done without nothin' goin' wrong."

Suddenly, AJ bowed her head. Her smile vanished, and she talked more quietly.

"But Mac didn't look proud. He looked almost ashamed. I knew he would never be ashamed of me, but it looked that way. He stood in the corner of the room, and said nothin', not a single word. Now that I think about it, maybe he never wanted me to go into combat. Maybe he was regretting bringing me into this style of life, or maybe he just couldn't believe that this little girl, who he had raised like family, could become such a powerful killing machine. But I never thought of that back then; there was a party worth celebrating. I figured I would talk about it with him in the morning, after it had time to settle in. That next day ended up being one of the worst of my life…"

BANGBANGBANG

AJ stopped and listen. From somewhere around her, she could certainly hear the sounds of an intense struggle. Gunshots rang throughout the darkness, giving her a rough estimate of the size of her cell. All of a sudden, then everything became quiet, and then a bright light filled the room. AJ was temporarily blinded. It was the only light she had seen in hours, and sent a powerful shock through her system. The next thing she knew, someone was banging against her chains, and then she dropped to the ground.

"Get up, cowgirl," a familiar voice said.

"Took ya long enough to get here, Dash," AJ groaned, wobbly rising to her feet. She held onto what she figured to be Dash's shoulder, giving her much needed support. AJ blinked what must have been one hundred consecutive times before she could see what was around her. When her vision did return, she noticed that Fiona was desperately tearing at Tara's binds, unable to free her. Pinky walked over, Rachel leaning against her side, and with one expertly-placed bullet, broke the bonds from the wall.

"Tara, can you hear me?" Fiona asked, shaking her friend to no avail.

"They've been pumping her full of something since we got here," AJ explained.

"What do you mean? Is she alright?" Fiona asked, her eyes widening in fear.

"She's hallucinating or something. She was only barely able to hear me, and that was only ten minutes ago. Before that, she was just rambling nonsense."

"You mean like most of what Spark says?" Dash said with a grin. She received a harsh glare. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Is she going to be okay?" Fiona repeated, cradling a groaning Tara in her arms.

"Well, you could start helping by removing the needle from her arm," AJ said, stumbling over to her distressed friend. She knelt down, and slowly unhooked Tara's braces. Hidden inside, AJ could see a thin needle jabbed directly into Tara's veins, a clear fluid-filled tube connected to it. With a hard tug, AJ yanked the needle out of her leader, drawing plenty of blood from Tara's wrist.

"Is she going to be okay?" Fiona said, horribly frantic.

"Yes," AJ finally answered. "But we need to get her out of here. The drugs need to be flushed out of her system, and keeping her here aint gonna do any good."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa," Dash intervened. "Hate to break it to you, AJ, but we're not leaving the castle yet. There's a mad king on the throne, and we need to take him out."

"Dash, that's the stupidest thing I ever heard," AJ said. "We're taking care of the wounded, and that means getting them out of here."

"We don't need everyone active in order to take down Quincius," Dash argued.

"Well here's a question, for everyone," AJ said angrily. "How many of us can actually fight against an entire royal army? Last time I checked, we barely survived ten, and that was when we were all feeling well. Rachel, can you even walk straight."

"Walking's not a problem," Rachel claimed. "But I'm pretty sure my collarbone is cracked."

"I can still shoot," Pinky said weakly. "But my back is killing me, and if the guards are wearing armor, then I can't really do anything."

"Tara's far too weak to do anything," Fiona said. "I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone."

"You have me," Dash stated. "So what is that? Three or four, depending on who's doing what. That's plenty."

"Except that the king's hosting the ball tonight, surrounded by tons of witnesses and guards," said AJ. "Assuming that Quincius hasn't exposed us to the world yet, everyone's gonna freak out when they see teenagers assassinating the King of Vitrumia."

"Not my fault…" Tara muttered. "I didn't… not me…"

"Hush, Tara," Fiona whispered, brushing her friend's hair out of her face. "No one's blaming you for anything."

"She aint listening to you," AJ said once more.

"You know, I could probably snipe him," Pinky said nonchalantly. "The King is supposed to give a speech at the end of the ball. Everyone will be looking at him. All I have to do is line up the shot, and then BLAM!"

"But people will still have seen you do it," AJ said.

"Actually, they will probably all panic," Rachel stated. "They hear a gunshot go off, and they'll swarm out of here like a load of lunatics."

"But the guards will notice you," AJ said.

"We could cause a distraction somewhere else in the castle," Fiona said. "Like… making an escape into the forest in a stolen car."

"Where will ya get the—"

"Already taken care of," Dash said. "If you and Pinky go to assassinate Quincius, I can get everyone else out of here. Celestia had to of prepared some sort of emergency escape, right?"

"She could fly in a plane from South Africa," AJ thought aloud. "Listen, let's say that we somehow pulled this off, and we killed the King. We'd still get the blame for pullin' of the hit."

"Not my fault… not my fault," Tara moaned.

"Damn it, Tara," AJ muttered under her breath. "Stop talking to yourself and—"

Suddenly, AJ realized something, something that she should have realized long ago. The thought seemed so obvious, killing roughly five birds with one stone. If everything could somehow fall in place perfectly, then almost all of their problems could be solved.

"The Unknown," AJ stated. "We'll blame The Unknown for his death. We already have records of him and Quincius together. If we could destroy that footage of ourselves, and get access to evidence that the King was working with a terrorist, we could get away with the murders of both kings. And not only that, but if terrorist actions were reported here, not only could we halt whatever The Unknown was planning, but we could even get assistance in hunting him down."

"That could work," Rachel claimed. "But we'd need to destroy the servers here, and make sure Pinky doesn't get caught. Dash, can we bust the computer on the way out of here?"

"Sure, if we can move fast enough," Dash said with a shrug. "AJ, Pinky, don't fuck this up, will ya?"

"We'll handle everythin' fine," AJ said, flashing a confident grin. "That's our job."

"Okay, girls, let's get moving," Dash commanded, exiting the room. Fiona and Rachel hoisted Tara up, and supported her as they moved down the corridor. Pinky checked her guns, winced as she rolled her shoulders, and then ran down the opposite hall, with AJ following close behind.

AJ pleaded to God that the plan would work out okay. There were so many variables to account for. What if the others got captured? What if Sombra and The Unknown were waiting for them? What if P.O.N.Y. got discovered? What if the plan failed? What if she failed? She took a deep breath, and calmed her thoughts. She remembered what Mac said to her: Failure was not her style.

So she knew she wouldn't fail. Everything would work out fine. And suddenly, nothing worried her. The bloody lashes on Pinky's back didn't worry her. 0071 and 0193, two dead guards lying contorted and twisted on the floor, did not worry her. And neither did the empty cage to her right, which, where once stayed someone incredibly important, was now entirely empty, the captive long gone.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 10: The Reign of Terror (An Unlikely Alliance)

Chapter 10: The Reign of Terror

Part 2 of 2: An Unlikely Alliance

"And how is your wine, sir?" asked the servant.

"Exquisite," Sombra said proudly. "You should truly be proud of your work."

"Yes, your majesty," the servant said with a bow. Sombra examined himself in the mirror. He was quite the fan of the flowing, violet, silky cape protruding from his back; it gave him character, personality, and perfectly defined him as a man of wealth and resources. Of course, having an expensive tuxedo could not hurt either, but Sombra wanted to go big for the final night of the ball. The crown, which had since grown larger and more refined since the previous night, rested perfectly atop his head. He looked like a king, just like he always dreamt.

But then, just as he was getting comfortable gazing into his own reflection, a guard burst into the throne room, panting heavily.

"My liege," the guard said, hastily bowing. "No one from the jungle entrance is responding. We think there—"

"Calm yourself," Sombra said with a smile. "Tell me everything. Slowly."

"Well," said the guard nervously. "We've yet to fully restore access to our primary servers, so we've been unable to gain access to security feeds."

"But the previously stored footage is fine, correct?"

"Yes, sir, but that is not the point. We've lost contact with all members of the jungle patrol unit. There may be people trying to stage a rescue for those hostages you've taken."

Sombra chuckled. He adjusted his cuffs, and then slowly walked towards the trembling guard. He placed one massive hand on the guard's shoulder, and spoke gently.

"Do not worry," said King Sombra. "I'm sure you did everything you could. All is going to be fine. Why don't you take a rest, and enjoy the evening?"

"I… yes, King Sombra. Of course," said the humble guard. He was relieved, to say the least. He thought the king would be frustrated, but the new leader was handling everything with class. Perhaps the evening would turn out fine after all.

Then, with no hesitation, King Sombra placed his hands on the guard's head, and snapped his neck. The body plopped unceremoniously to the floor, as Sombra calmly turned to the servant, who seen the entire conversation with watchful eyes.

"Tell the other guards to cover all exits from the castle at once," Sombra stated, walking back to the mirror. "Make sure no one gets in or out of this place. Send any operative you can manage. If something is going on, I want to know what it is, or it will be your neck that will break next. Understood?"

"Yes, your majesty," said the servant, bowing once more. He left the room at once, rushing to send out the warning. Sombra clicked his tongue against his teeth as he stared at his crown in the mirror.

Those girls think they can screw me over, thought the King. No one gets to fuck with me and gets away with it. Come at me, you little bitches. I'll be waiting for you.

__________

"Holy shit, this place is massive," Dash sighed, peering around the corner.

"Anyone?" asked Fiona.

"Nah, coast is clear. I really hope you know where you're going, Rachel."

"I better," Rachel commented. "Pinky wouldn't shut up about the armory. Every time you girls were doing something, she was talking about that goddamn armory. Turn left."

Dash did as she was told, lowering her weapon. Tara stumbled along, resting her full weight on Fiona's shoulder.

"Go outside and play…" she moaned with a half-smile.

"Shush," Fiona whispered. "It's okay, Tara. Everything's okay."

"Dear God, if I have to hear Spark moaning about random shit one more time…" Dash muttered under her breath. The four girls marched on through the complex, keeping a lookout for any guards. They had assumed that most of the would be near the forest exit, which gave them hope that they would meet little opposition until they got better weaponry.

"How much farther?" Dash asked impatiently no less than five minutes later.

"Almost there," the Brit replied. "About fifty meters, give or take."

"In English?"

"Guard."

"What the fuck does—"

"Guard!"

Rachel suddenly grabbed onto Dash's shoulder, and swung her back around the corner from which she had just crossed. From across the way, a pair of guards walked into view, searching carefully for signs of life.

"Shit," said Rachel. "That hurt a whole lot."

"How many guards?" Dash asked, readying her shots.

"Just two, I think. The armory is right past 'em, or at least it bloody should be."

"Great, wish me luck!"

Dash didn't bother listening to Rachel complain before she stormed out of cover, charging at the guards head-on. Before the gunshots had begun to ricochet around her, she was already in the guards' faces, barrel pointed at one of their noses. Within moments, the two guards had been dispatched, and Dash wiped her forehead of sweat before beckoning the others.

"Jesus Christ, you're going to get us all killed," Rachel scolded. You do understand that none of us can fend for ourselves particularly well right now, and if you were to die in some bullshit rage of glory, we would be entirely helpless to… hey, are you even listening to me!?"

Dash was staring wide-eyed at something around the corner, her face lit up with a sense of astonishment.

"Rachel," Dash said calmly. "Shut the fuck up.

Rachel crossed her arms angrily, as Fiona went to witness what Dash was so amazed at.

"Oh… wow… those are a lot of guns."

The door to the armory was left open, giving the girls a perfect view of the stockpile of guns available. There had to be hundreds of different types of firearms, explosives, stun weapons, melee weapons, and more present in the room. Dash was pretty sure that if Pinky was with them, she would have died on the spot; her brain smoking like it was having a mechanical breakdown. While Dash's thoughts gave her a small chuckle, Fiona's were far more negative. Why, she couldn't help but wonder, were all of these weapons necessary? She thought she would have been used to seeing the crude combinations of powder, lead, and steel, but seeing so many tools of death in one location was almost sickening. It made her feel disgusted in humanity, thinking that society had commended the creation of such means of murder.

But that didn't stop her from catching the gun that Dash tossed her way.

"Dash, what is this?" she asked, horribly concerned. "You know I don't kill people. That's not what I want to do."

"It's like a stun-gun," Dash said, grabbing weapons from the shelves and attaching them to clips on her waist. "I'm gonna need help carrying this shit."

"You're not going to need all of those," Fiona stated. "Besides, you're the only one that can actually fire any one of those weapons."

"It's better to be safe than sorry, my friend," Dash sighed, clipping grenades to her belt. By the time she was finished, Dash was duel wielding machine guns, and had an additional five guns at standby, along with an assortment of varied grenades. "Man, I feel like a badass. All I need is a red headband and some war paint."

"Those flowers are beautiful…"

"Thanks, Spark," Dash said sarcastically. "Okay, P.O.N.Y's, let's get a move on."

Following Dash's lead (which, as Rachel pointed out, was based on her instructions), the girls made great pace through the castle, checking constantly for any guards. Occasionally, they would spot someone in their path, but thanks to Dash's quick reflexes, they were dealt with instantly. The closer they drew to their goal, the tighter the security became. Instead of one or two guards, they started to run into squadrons of five or more soldiers at a time. Several times, they were forced to halt their progress, bunker down, and wait for Dash to bomb the enemy before moving on. Fiona even had to help once in a while, taking non-fatal shots to the soldiers' chests.

"Hey, Rachel, with all of these guards, how are we going to get access to the server?" Fiona asked after a short battle with six guards. "I mean, wouldn't they have the thing hacked by now?"

"Do you remember that virus we downloaded into the Smiling Dragons' server all those months ago?" Rachel replied.

"Sort of…"

"Well, I don't know when she had the time, but Pinky reproduced the damn thing and plugged it in. They may take months to get everything sorted out in there without the proper shutdown code."

"Let's hope you're right," Dash interrupted. "I can see the server up ahead."

In front of her lay the server room, promptly surrounded by eight guards, with two more guards within the small room itself. As of fortune, none of them had seen her coming, and thus Dash slid behind a wall, and pressed a finger to her lips. The others followed suit, pressing tightly against the wall so as to make themselves unseen.

"Damn, everything is all jumbled up," said a guard from within the server room.

"Can you just let me take a look at it?" groaned his partner. "You need to stop fiddling around with it."

"I'm trying to," replied the first guard. "Quit getting in my way."

"You are incredibly impatient."

"You are incredibly frustrating."

And I'm incredibly resourceful, thought Dash with a grin, as she nonchalantly chucked a grenade into the midst of the crowd.

BOOOOOOOOOOM

After a spray of blood flew past, Dash left her cover, and went straight to work picking off the remaining guards. If they were not yet killed, they had been incapacitated long enough for Dash to place bullets in their skulls. The two guards within the server room peered out into the open, where Fiona shot and stunned them as fast as she could. It was only a minute before all before them were either dead or useless.

"Dash, help me with something," Rachel said, holding out her hand for guidance. Dash bowed gracefully, and took her friend's hand, leading her to the computer as if she were leading her to dance. Rachel found her way to the chair, and sat down. Dash placed the keyboard in front of her, and tod her which keys her hands rested upon.

On instinct alone, Rachel's fingers scattered about the keys, sending flashes of images across the screen. Pieces of code which Dash couldn't hope to understand flew past, and all she could do was watch as her friend proved that she still had plenty of talent left within her.

"The virus should be bypassed," Rachel instructed. "Dash, I hopefully opened a folder leading to past security footage. Be a dear, and acquire a download of The Unknown talking to Quincius, if you would so kindly."

"I'll try," Dash moaned, taking Rachel's seat. She barely had any idea of what she was supposed to do. Computers were not her thing; excessive violence was her thing. She searched through any file she could find, looking for something to help her cause. If she found any footage captured of herself or any of her friends, she made sure to delete it. But this couldn't help her find anything relating to The Unknown.

She searched for what felt like forever. Finally, she couldn't take any more, and slammed her head onto the desk.

I hope you're having an easier time than us, AJ, Dash thought. We need someone to succeed here.

__________

The second night of the ball was arguably better than the first. Although the men were quite disappointed that the stunning beauty from the night prior was not present, no one could state that they were having a bad time. The food was just as delicious and plentiful as ever, the social life was rich, and every person in the room was dancing merrily.

So, it was understandable that some questioned why a young girl, wearing a black stealth suit, Stetson, and covered in scratches and bruises, was walking about amongst the crowd. However, they were all far too drunk to care, and the young girl became lost in the endless wave of people.

AJ glanced up at the stairs. Two guards were standing by, bored and unaware of any plan to attack the king. She could not help smirk. Aside from them, she did not see a single other guard in the vicinity, which probably meant that Sombra had fallen for the ruse. Of all of the things that could go wrong, increased security was the largest fear AJ possessed. However, everything seemed like it would be alright.

"Mmm, this food is great," Pinky moaned over the earpiece. "For a crazy dude, the king really knows how to make pastries."

"Focus, Pinky," AJ instructed. "Last thing we need is for you to draw attention to yourself."

"Don't worry, no one is looking at me," Pinky reassured. "There's this fat, drunk guy yelling at his wife, or some lady. He's drawing all of the attention in the room, even from the one guard stationed here."

"If you say so. Just remember, don't pull the trigger until the king finishes his speech, and leaves. We don't want too much attention."

"I got it, I got it," Pinky sighed. "You're (moan) worrying too much. Man, this is delicious…"

AJ trudged over to the wall, and pressed herself tightly to one of the support columns. It simply became a matter of waiting. She had an estimated ten minutes until the king would give his speech; perfect time for making an escape strategy. If all went well, the guards would be so distracted with rushing Quincius away from the crowd that they couldn't block the main gate. If she moved fast enough, she and Pinky could hotwire a car, and rendezvous with the others at the extraction point.

For half of a second, AJ felt a subtle rumbling beneath her feet, and then everything was still again.

That better not be you girls dying, AJ thought grimly. Last thing I fucking need right now.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen!" shouted one of the servants. "May I proudly introduce, his royal majesty, Quincius Daltenoss!"

The crowd, which had significantly quieted, suddenly erupted into a round of cheers and applause. AJ watched as her target walked down the steps, and stood in the center of the staircase, although not before noted that the servant had neglected to call him a "king".

"Pinky, get ready," AJ whispered, moving towards the crowd.

"I am pleased to see many happy faces," Sombra said. "My father, unfortunately, has taken ill, and cannot be present for tonight. However, may that not stop anyone from enjoying themselves!"

The crowd burst into more applause. AJ surveyed the environment, pleased to see that no guards were standing by the door. She entered the crowd, and began to inch her way towards the exit.

"We are a proud people," Sombra stated. "We have accomplished so much over the past few years. However, recently, we have discovered that… well, it didn't seem like enough."

AJ tried to move as inconspicuously as possible, but couldn't help causing some distasteful groans as she nudged the drunken party guests.

"Deep in our mines, we have found much more than crystals. Much more than anyone would have thought, and greater than any of my people could have dreamed. We have discovered such minerals to make our noble country of Vitrumia more powerful than ever."

Out of the corner of her eye, AJ could see Pinky lining up her shot. No eyes were on her. AJ herself had long since drowned out Sombra's words; her only thoughts were directed towards making it to the door by the time the speech was over. The crowd was thinning, and it seemed like it would only take a few more seconds for her to make her escape.

"…and to the people who thought they could continue to trample over us, we will no longer give in to such preposterous demands. We intend to—"

AJ was almost at the door. Not a single pair of eyes were locked on her. There was only three people left at the back of the crowd, and AJ easily pushed past them. There was a guest making his way towards the crowd, but she paid little attention to him, never even bothering to look at his face. She refused to take her eyes off of the exit, no matter what happened.

Except then, that guest grabbed onto AJ's shoulder, and pressed her close to him. He pressed his cheek to hers, so that she was unable to turn her head. Before she had a chance to move away, he spoke.

"The doors are booby-trapped," he whispered. "Touch them, and you'll be blown to pieces."

"How did you—"

"Tell your friend to shoot Sombra now," the man instructed. "Before he has time to fully realize what's going on."

"Why—"

AJ was cut off as the man pushed away from her, making her nearly stumble to the floor. By the time she had recovered, he had already vanished into the crowd. She scanned the area, but all she saw were more clapping partiers, and wobbly legs.

"Pinky, we have a problem," AJ said worriedly. "We may need to work out another escape route."

"Are you sure?" Pinky asked.

"No, but that's what worries me," AJ sighed. "Also, you may—"

AJ froze. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that two guards were slowly approaching her, marching unchallenged through the crowd.

"Pinky, shoot."

"Wait, is this a test? You told me not to shoot until he finished his speech."

"Pinky, shoot the damn gun." AJ said, slowly backing up towards the main gate. It was not difficult to see that the guards were carrying batons, with machetes strapped to their backs.

"But won't that blow our cover?"

"It's too late for that. Take a look at what I'm dealing with."

"What's going—Oh, those guys look mean," Pinky commented, leaning over the railing.

"No shit," AJ hissed. The two guards were now in striking distance.

"Ma'am, you're going to have to come with us," said one of the guards. AJ's eyes zoomed around the room, looking for something to help her. She saw a servant carrying some form of cheesy dough on a silver tray to her left, and then she gulped, muttering:

"Pinky, the instant I do something stupid, you know what to do."

"Kablam-O?" Pinky asked, almost innocently.

"Yeah… kablam-O," AJ sighed. One of the guards took a step closer.

"Okay, miss, surre—"

AJ reached out, and grabbed onto the guard's wrist, contorting his arm around. With one quarter turn, she flung his body into the servant, sending the tray crashing to the ground. Before he hit the ground, however, AJ removed the machete from the guard's back, and promptly sliced the other's arm off with it. The crowd seemed to let out one simultaneous gasp, as they turned towards the sudden display of violence. It was even enough to throw the King off guard, drawing his attention away from the blonde on the second floor with a gun pointed towards his scalp.

BANG

The bullet launched out of the chamber, and zoomed at Sombra's head. He had not seen the shooter, but somehow, he knew something was coming for him. In the span of a moment, his appearance was altered. His eyes and veins bugged out, glowing with a bright golden sheen. A golden material, denser than steel, ran up his body, and entirely covered his face. With a scream, he leaned into the shot, allowing the bullet to directly connect with his forehead. For a second, the lead rested against his skull, before he threw his head backwards, sending the bullet crashing into the wall behind him.

The crowd erupted. Every single guest scrammed for an exit, stumbling over each other to get to safety. In madness, several people were nearly trampled to death. AJ, stuck in the midst of chaos, did the only thing she saw to be reasonable. She spun around the remaining guard, stealing his weapon, and delivered two quick stabs to his neck.

BANG BANG BANG

"Why isn't he dying!?" Pinky screamed in frustration. Sombra had retreated down the hall, avoiding all further shots.

"Did ya hit him at all?" AJ asked.

"I hit him square in the face!" Pinky cried. "He just deflected it. Don't tell me we have to fight another bulletproof guy. I don't—Ah!"

Pinky took cover behind a table as gunfire spread around her. AJ muttered a curse. She couldn't let Sombra get away now, not after all she had been through. With a sneer, she stole a pistol from the corpse before her, and took off through the mad crowd.

"Pinky, get outta here as soon as ya can!" AJ said. "I'm going after the King."

"I'll try not to get murdered!" Pinky screamed, not at all having the situation under control. AJ was far too focused to hear her friend's cry of panic, however. She pushed through the crowd as fast as she could, trying her best not to trample any collapsed innocents. Already, more guards were swarming in behind Sombra as he made his escape through one of the halls. She bounded up the steps, and took a sharp right. Before she left, she briefly impaled one of the guards hunting down Pinky, earning a very earnest, "THANK YOU!" from her friend.

AJ moved as fast as her feet could carry her, and once she reached that boundary, she moved even faster. She spotted a scared Sombra sprinting one hundred feet away, followed closely by three guards. One guard spun around, and opened fire upon the child soldier, scattering bullets around her feet. Her prey turned a corner, yet she did not follow. Instead, she slid to a halt just before the bend. Pressing herself to the wall, AJ listened carefully.

There ya are, AJ thought with a grin. She lightly tossed the machete out of cover, and allowed it to bounce casually against the exposed wall. With no hesitation, it was shot at, and was forced down to the floor. The poor guard failed to have the reflexes to see AJ coming in from the opposite angle, and thus was entirely powerless to stop her from cutting his head off. AJ scooped up her other sword, and took after Sombra yet again. She recalled the path from many hours before, and instant familiarity hit her like a brick; Sombra was retreating to his throne room.

Her memory now her primary guide, AJ continued on her journey. She found no other guards blocking her way, and instantly assumed the worst. Technically speaking, it would only make sense for all of the guards to block themselves up behind the secret painting, or at least that was what AJ thought. That didn't stop her from advancing though. Under less dire circumstances, she would have mentally scorned herself for rushing straight into danger again, probably for the hundredth time.

But when one was dealing with an international incident that could spark global catastrophe, they didn't have time to consider that.

At last, AJ arrived at the secret entrance. She placed her hand upon the image, as if she was trying to scope out what was behind it. She took a glance at the keypad, realizing she didn't know the code. With a shrug, she drew back her blade, and thrust it into the metal, hearing the wires snap with satisfaction. The door slid open automatically, and much to AJ's surprise, no guards were present.

She took a cautious step forward, looking around the dimly-lit stairwell. Taking very slow footsteps, AJ ascended, coming to the next door. She took another deep breath, holding the machetes in a reverse-grip. In one fluid motion, AJ burst through the door, rolled to the center of the room, and brought her arms close to her chest, crossing her arms so that the blades extended out.

Yet there was no mass of guards waiting for the kill. Instead, there was one servant nervously, shifting around on his feet. AJ, raising an eyebrow, rose to her feet, and pointed one of the swords at the rather skinny man.

"Where's the King?" she asked forcefully.

"His Majesty is in there," replied the servant honestly. "He's expecting you."

Suddenly, the blade was brought up to the servant's neck.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" AJ asked. Was the servant being serious? He seemed far too calm for someone with a blade held to their neck. Yet here this man was, treating an assassination like a standard business meeting.

"Nothing more than what I already said," the servant said. "Don't keep the King waiting."

AJ glared hard at the man. Despite the fact that he seemed confident at first glance, she could clearly see his legs shaking. What had this man been through over the years? Did he even want to do this job anymore? AJ thought about this for a moment, and then, half out of mercy and half out of pity, she lowered her blade, and walked towards the door to the main throne room. She closed her eyes, and concentrated. She could hear the servant scurrying away to safety behind her. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She could feel the gentle beating of her heart in her ears. In her mind, she went over her training, every move, every step, every instinct of fighting. She knew what she had to do, and she planned on getting it done.

AJ opened her eyes. She wasn't going to fail.

With a kick, the agent burst into the room, and was immediately greeted with six machine guns pointed at her temple.

"Well, here we are," Sombra said calmly, sitting on his throne. In his mouth was a lit cigar, and on his lap rested something AJ was quite familiar with: Tara's sword. "Gonna have to say that you're little 'diversion' was fun. To think that your friends could get out of here alive, and you could still take me down… well, that's quite the idea, isn't it?"

"You betrayed your father, you betrayed my country, you betrayed my friends, and, worst of all, you betrayed me," AJ spat. "I'd say that makes this operation justified enough."

Sombra laughed.

"Ah, I love American confidence. So sure that you can do anything, even though the odds are so packed against you; those are some truly wonderful traits."

Sombra stroked the sheathed blade in his lap, as if it were his pet.

"Shall we be done with her?" asked one of the guards. "There are still others we need to hunt down."

"Wait," Sombra said. "I'm king here, and I get to make my own decisions. Guards… put down your weapons."

"But, sir—"

"Put them down!" Sombra growled. AJ watched in confusion as the guards dropped their weapons, and looked back at their King. "Now, execute her… but with swords. I want some… entertainment."

"What the hell are ya getting' at?" AJ sneered.

"I just want to see something," Sombra said simply. "Now, guards, do as I said, and put her down."

The guards were still for a moment, before nervously unsheathing their emergency blades. AJ spread her feet apart, and adjusted her sweaty grip on the handles. The six guards started to inch closer and closer, none of them wanting to fully charge. Even without having seen much of her abilities, the aura of the teenager seemed far too confident for their liking. It was something in the way she darted her eyes back and forth, always examining, and something about the way she held the blades.

Still, they had to attack some point. The guard second form the left dashed forward, and tried his best to land a killing blow. AJ barely batted an eye as she stepped to the right, watching the soldier sail pass. Just as he flew by, she slashed the machete across the back of his neck, killing him. The other guards, enticed by the violence, all attacked at once.

Immediately, it became clear to AJ that these guards were not chosen because of their skill. In fact, she realized that most of the skilled guards had to of been taken out a while ago, or were dealing with the others. If she wasn't trained to kill, she might have felt remorse for the loss of such young life. If she wasn't trained to kill, she might have wondered how old these guards even were, or how long they were doing their jobs for, or if they ever wanted this.

But she was trained to kill, and so she did. She killed with ruthless efficiency. With a slash of her sword, blood spurted out of limbs. She with a twirl, she cut through tissue and bone. Sombra watched the carnage, enticed by the magnificent slaughter. He breathed out a puff of smoke, and grinned as the last of his soldiers fell to the floor. AJ removed her Stetson, and wiped the sweat from her brow, stepping over a detached leg.

"Brilliant, just brilliant," Sombra said happily. "You must have had one hell of a trainer to perform that."

"If you think this is a game, it ain't," AJ snarled. "You're gonna die now."

Sombra, with a laugh, clasped his hands together, and rose to his feet. He lightly placed Tara's sword on his throne, and then tossed his cigar aside.

"You know, I haven't had to do this in quite a while," Sombra said, untying his flowing cape. The velvet fluttered to the floor. Sombra tossed away his coat, and then began to unbutton his shirt. "You and your friends have provided ample entertainment over the past few months. Secretly, I was hoping I might have to do this."

Sombra opened his shirt fully, and removed it; AJ could make out the multitude of scars on his massive chest.

"You Americans think you own the goddamn world, don't you? You think you can just wander into any damn place you like, and as long as you can spread your Western propaganda, you can get whatever you want. I think it's about time we shift the balance of power…"

Sombra rolled his head back, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, glowing a radiant gold. He doubled, and began to cry out in pain. In horror, AJ watched as Sombra transformed. His muscles bulged unnaturally, and his veins began to glow the same color as his eyes. A metallic corruption ran up his exposed chest, and covered him from his neck down. AJ shot forward, swinging her blade as hard as she could against the mad King. But to her surprise, as the machete made contact with his chest, it caught on the metallic substance, almost as if it was striking a steel wall. She drew the sword back, grinding sparks against the gold, attempting to strike again.

But before she could, Sombra, with one monstrous, metallic hand, picked her up by the throat, and held her aloft in front of his face. He was breathing heavily, yet had on a terrible grin.

"Don't fuck with the King."

__________

"Man, I can barely see a thing," Dash sighed. "Uh, Rachel… didn't you hear me? I said—"

"I know, Dash. A blind joke. Very sincere of you to make fun of that extremely serious issue of mine."

"I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Dash clicked her tongue in her mouth, and wondered why all secret passages had to be dark. The flash drive dangled from a clip on her belt, swinging side to side in the endless shadow. She didn't know how long she had been jogging in the passage, but it felt like an eternity. It would have felt less tedious is she had more than the slightest indication of where she was supposed to be going, but all she had to navigate was Rachel's vague, adrenaline-based directions.

"Slow down, guys…." Tara mumbled. "My head…"

"You can rest soon," Fiona stated, trying her best to keep up.

"Very soon, in fact," Rachel added. "We're almost there, I think. Just up ahead."

Dash picked up her pace, the constant rustle of metal bouncing about from her body. She stayed a good twenty paces ahead of the others, and thus had no time to react when Rachel shouted at her.

"Here! It should be right here!"

"Huh?" Dash turned her head, and in the darkness, failed to spot the wall before she collided into it with a thud. She groaned, and cupped her nose, jiggling it around slightly. "Fuck my life…"

"Oh wow, you should have seen that coming," Rachel said snidely. "Now hurry and get that door open."

Confident that she had at least broken something, Dash made a childish face at her peer, and then proceeded to push open the hidden doorway. Light rushed into the room, making Tara moan in discomfort. In the distance the girls saw foliage, and placed themselves just near the base of the cliff. Dash took a cautious step outside, turned to her right, and then shot back into the darkness.

"There are a lot of enemies out there," said the rebel. "Like twenty or so. They're all standing watch at the exit."

"So, where's this 'amazing escape plan', Dash?" Rachel asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"It's literally just over on the other side of the entrance. All we need to do is sneak around without being seen, and drive out of here on that dirt path through the jungle."

"What if they spot us?" asked Fiona.

"Then we kill them all. Duh," Dash sighed, waving around her arms. "I'll go first. I do have the only means of defending myself."

"But couldn't we—"

Dash paid no mind to her green-eyed friend, and crouched as low as her legs could manage, keeping her weapons tucked in closely to her chest. Taking a step outside, she felt a refreshing wind blow across her face, and could feel the gentle crunch of the soil underneath her foot. She breathed in, and began to circle around the heavily guarded entrance. If she kept low enough, the thick brush barely managed to cover her head, and thankfully, it almost encircled the entire opening, save for a five foot wide gap for the dirt road to pass between. Dash peered over the plants every few feet, making sure she hadn't drawn any attention form the guards.

That's right, assholes, she thought happily. Just keep looking over there.

Coming up, Dash faced her biggest obstacle: the dirt road. She needed to time her movements carefully now; one wrong step could leave her wide open to all kinds of gunfire. Dash approached the very edge of the foliage, keeping her head less than six inches off of the ground. One guard occasionally looked over his shoulder, as if weary of something in the density of the island. Dash waited for the guard to turn again, and then again, and then again. Finally, when she was confident that the coast would be clear, she rolled into the center of the road, and then immediately dived out, avoiding detection.

When Dash reached the other side of the entrance, she looked over to the opposite side with glee.

"Okay, you fuckers," she said to herself. "Don't fuck it up."

"Uh, Dash?" said a soft voice from behind. Dash had to stop herself from screaming as she discovered that the others were waiting behind her, Fiona looking startled and Tara resting on Rachel's shoulder.

"What the—How the fuck did you guys get here?" she asked, confused.

"Fiona flew us over," Rachel commented. "First Tara, then me. Seriously, it took about ten seconds, and the guards never even looked up."

"Huh… I forgot about that," Dash muttered under breath. Regardless, she focused on the job at hand, and led the P.O.N.Y's several yards to the concealed car, which was camouflaged under many leaves and dirt. She brushed off as much of the filth as possible, and then hopped into the driver's seat. Carefully, Tara was lowered into the back of the vehicle, and Rachel joined her in silence.

"Wait, won't the guards notice that we're driving away?" asked Fiona. Dash groaned.

"Just get the fuck in the vehicle," she stated, patting the seat next to her. Raising an eyebrow, Fiona entered the car, and watched as Dash started the engine.

"Dash, aren't they going to notice us?" Fiona reiterated. "Dash? Dash?"

Dash's lips curved into a devious grin, and she slammed her foot down on the gas. The car came to life at once, roaring loudly as it pushed forward through the leaves and muck of the forest. Fiona clutched the seat in terror. The guards were alerted at once, opening fire upon the vehicle as it drove past. However, Dash nonchalantly tossed two grenades over her shoulder, detonating at the enemies' feet.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Fiona cried out as the car shook heavily, threatening to turn over. Dash laughed at the pure chaos around her.

"Now that's how you make an escape," she said cheerfully.

"Are you crazy!? You could have gotten us all killed!" Fiona stated furiously (although her voice sounded more terrified than angry).

"Hey, look at how many of us died: zero. Considering how I was the only one who actually did anything, I think that's a pretty good job."

"I agree with her," Rachel said, more annoyed than anything. "I thought you had this planned out?"

"I did. It just mostly involved explosions. Look, no harm, no foul. Now let's get—"

Dash stopped speaking as she heard something rumbling behind her. She turned, and frightfully discovered that two cars similar to her own were hunting her down, each packed with four more guards.

"Damn it, these guys don't give up," Dash groaned. She picked up one of her machine guns, and blind fired upon the soldiers, missing every target. To her the task seemed impossible. She could barely keep the car steady as it was, but having to shoot people at the same time, who weren't even in front of her, was daunting. At times like this, she really hated how Fiona refused to use guns. It wasn't like it would have mattered much; Fiona clung to her seat in fear, unable to even scream.

Looking in the mirror, Dash saw something even worse. As the two vehicles drove side-by-side, one of the guards stood up in his car, and pulled out an RPG. He wobbled to regain his balance, but quickly found his footing, and took aim at the P.O.N.Y's.

"Oh shit…" Dash muttered, trying to outdrive the other cars. Yet there were no more boundaries to push. The car was at its maximum speed, and nothing could make them go any faster. In desperation, Dash spun around, taking her eye entirely off of the road, and opened fire again. Before, her aim was immaculate, but now on the root-covered, sticky, rough terrain, she could do nothing except shoot at damp leaves and rotten wood.

The rocket-toting guard waited to get as close as possible, and then he fired.

Much to his surprise, he didn't fire at the car in front of him, filled with the girls who were trying to escape. Instead, doing something he found quite horrified, he spun to his right, and blew up his own allies. He had not a moment to gasp in shock the entire vehicle flipped over, sending everyone crashing into the ground at breakneck pace.

Dash glanced around, and saw Tara standing in the back of the vehicle, swaying to and fro, her hand extended outwards. In a haze, she managed to utter a single word:

"Drive."

At once, Tara collapsed back into the car, her body going limp. Fiona reached out and caught her before she hit her head against something, and she sighed in relief. Bitter at her own inabilities, Dash continued to drive deeper and deeper into the jungle.

__________

AJ was thrown violently against the wall. With a groan, she straightened herself up, and picked up her blades. Sombra stood where he was, arms crossed over his chest. Shaking the hair out of her eyes, AJ charged at him, and attempted to impale the mad King. He didn't move a muscle, letting the swords bounce harmlessly off of his plated skin.

"That isn't going to work," he sighed. AJ swung repeatedly, flicking her wrists back and forth to increase the pace of her swings. She became lost in the clanging of metal, and thought of nothing else other than seeing Sombra fall. Tedium built to become frustration, and that only made her swing harder. Yet there was not a scratch on him, no indication that he was injured. And that smug grin kept taunting her, reminding her that she was failing to do her duties.

Eventually, Sombra grew bored. He grabbed onto AJ's sides, and tossed her across the room. She slammed into the wall, recovered hastily, and landed on her feet. By the time she looked, Sombra was running at her like a wild animal. She barely was able to duck in time before a fist struck the wall behind her, nearly bursting through. Sombra swung at her now with his left fist, and again she ducked the vicious blow.

"Once you die—"

Sombra grabbed AJ's arm, and dangled her in the air.

"And your people fall…"

AJ flung her legs up, and wrapped around Sombra's massive arm. She rotated, and using all of her strength, threw Sombra to the ground. The King got back up with a smirk, and swept his long hair out of his face.

"Then we will expand."

Sombra ran at her yet again, this time tackling the American to the ground. Her machete's clattered out of her hands, and skid to opposite sides of the room. Sombra rose his fist over his head, and it darkened instantly.

"The world will be desperate for order."

He launched his attack, and AJ barely rolled her head to the left to avoid it. He tried again from the opposite side, but she still avoided.

"And, once they hear that Vitrumia is almost ready to launch nuclear missiles…"

Nuclear missiles? AJ thought in distress. Her mind was quickly directed elsewhere when Sombra attempted to pound her head into the floor. She sucked in her gut, loosened her form, and slid underneath the King before he had a chance to do any more harm. Unfortunately, he quickly turned around, grabbed her yet again, and threw her to the glass wall. She cracked the glass as she connected, and moaned as she hit the floor.

"I'll be king of the whole fucking world."

Sombra picked AJ up by her collar, and held against the glass, keeping her suspended in mid-air. She winced at the sudden movement. She tried to push Sombra away, but his grip was far too tight for her to do anything useful. He grinned again, his smile which had once seemed peaceful and relaxing now psychotic and cruel.

"You're not going to be around to see it, though," he said. "You would be dead, having plummeted a hundred feet to your demise. Now, let's see if you also have wings…"

Sombra leaned backwards, preparing to finish his target, when he felt a boot connect with his temple. The next thing AJ knew, she was on the ground, Sombra was ten feet away, clutching his head in pain, and someone was holding out a hand for her to grab onto.

"Thank God for ya, Pi—"

AJ looked up and froze. The gloved hand reaching out to her did not belong to Patricia Patrikson. It belonged to a man without a face, glaring down at her expectantly.

"Get up," The Unknown said dryly. AJ was stunned; she didn't know what to do. All of a sudden, her hand was taken ahold of, and she was hoisted to her feet. "Snap out of it, and focus. I don't need… dodge!"

AJ was still shaken when The Unknown tackled her to the floor. She heard the sound of glass breaking, and discovered that Sombra had punched directly through the large pane. Finally, AJ regained her senses, and jumped to her feet.

"Why did you—"

"Stop talking and listen," The Unknown said. "I know you have every right to distrust me, and that's fine. I don't need your trust right now. What I do need is for you to help me kill this man."

"What? I thought you two were working together?"

"Ah, yes, you missed that part, didn't you? Look, we both want this man dead, and neither of us can take care of this on our own, so I propose a truce. Just this once."

"And why should I help you?" AJ sneered, watching as Sombra freed himself from the glass.

"Because you have to," The Unknown shrugged. "And I just saved your life. If I wanted you dead, you already would be. So, truce?"

"Will you two shut up!?" Sombra shouted, enraged. "You two won't be able to do anything to me. You're just an annoyance, a distraction to my rule. I can't die, I can't be destroyed, and I won't be vanquished. No more games! It's over!"

With no hesitation, Sombra ran to the center of the room, and threw a right hook at his foes. Almost synchronized, AJ and The Unknown rolled underneath the attack, and kicked the King in his back. They sprang back as Sombra turned around, and with only a glance, they managed to coordinate attacks. The new alliance went to work at once, waiting for Sombra to attack before launching their simultaneous hit. Unfortunately for the pair, before they could connect with flesh, the armor came back, covering the targeted area in its entirety.

In the corner of AJ's eyes, she saw the glistening of her machete, lying several yards away. She weaved in the direction of the blade, and then ran after it. The Unknown wrapped his legs around Sombra's making the King fall to the ground, and allowing AJ to reach her weapon. Now properly armed, AJ ran back towards the King, and brought her machete down upon his spine. Yet Sombra twisted and tumbled away, shooting The Unknown to the ground, and causing AJ's sword to connect with marble.

How are we supposed to beat this guy? thought AJ worriedly. She brushed moist hair off of her sticky forehead, and clenched her fist tightly. She was fed up with everything. It was finally hitting her that nothing was working. There truly seemed to be no way at all to even hurt Sombra, let alone kill him. AJ wasn't one for giving up hope, but her shoulders and back were killing her, and she was running out of patience. What was his weakness? He did have a weakness, right? He had to have a weakness. Everyone had a weakness.

But there didn't seem to be any weakness. As she watched Sombra and The Unknown fight it out, she became more and more hopeless. Each and every time The Unknown threw a strike, the metal armor would crawl through Sombra's skin, and arrive with plenty of time to deflect the blow. Sombra might have been slow in attacking, but if no damage could be dealt in return, it would simply be a matter of waiting to die.

But then, something struck her. Something that had seen so insignificant before now seemed so important. The Unknown had saved her by kicking Sombra in the head, a sensation which the King most certainly did feel. And if Sombra didn't feel anything when hit in the armor, then it could only mean one thing to her.

She could still hit him.

AJ tightened her grip, and sprinted over to the battle. The Unknown rolled away from another slow attack when he noticed AJ running from behind. Perhaps it was in the way he paused for just a moment, or perhaps it was just from sheer luck, but Sombra knew something was coming from behind. He rotated around, and backhanded AJ across the face, sending her sliding back into his throne. AJ gripped her head in pain, and then she felt something fall into her lap: Tara's sword. Sombra was still distracted with his former partner to notice her; she could only have one chance.

AJ rose steadily to her feet, and unsheathed Tara's sword. The moonlight flowed through the glass, and reflected off of the sheen of the steel. Holding the sheathe in her left hand and the blade in the right, AJ slowly walked so that she was just behind Sombra.

"Why did you turn your back us?" The Unknown asked. "I offered you everything."

"Everything isn't enough," Sombra stated. "I needed my country to flourish, and you just weren't making that possible. And, nothing personal, but I really don't like you at all."

The Unknown snickered. At this moment, AJ knew that it was time to strike. She ran at Sombra, the katana held out at her side.

"Unfortunately, your opinion isn't really important anymore," The Unknown sneered. Sombra looked at the expressionless mask, and knew that something was coming for him again. He repeated his actions that were only seconds old; he turned around, and shot out a fist directly at AJ's face.

However, AJ was ready as well. She slid on her knees, and flung the blade into the air, right over the King's head. Taking the sheathe, she jammed it right into Sombra's midsection, making him cry out in pain. The Unknown, as if he had planned for the entire action to occur, leapt into the air, grabbed onto the sword, and, with one final thrust, drove it into Sombra's back. There was no plating to save him; the katana pierced through his ribs, and poked out of his chest. Sombra looked down at his chest absolutely stunned. The sword was removed, and a steady stream of blood began pouring out of his chest.

"But…" Sombra muttered. "I'm the King. You… you can't kill the King…"

Sombra fell to his knees, coughing up blood over the floor. His face didn't indicate pain, but rather intense shock. It seemed impossible. It was impossible. This couldn't be his end. No, it simply wasn't true. The great King Sombra would not die like this.

But yet, it was true. Sombra was dying.

"How… how did you…" he mumbled, looking up at AJ with almost a sense of wonder.

"It's all over, Quincius," AJ sighed. "You failed. Whatever little anti-American revolution you were planning is over."

Sombra gazed at AJ with big eyes, almost like a dog. Then, he started to chuckle. He could feel the blood welling up in his chest, and every single one of his muscles hurt, but he couldn't help himself.

"You… you think I hate your country?" Sombra asked, almost insultingly. "I love America. I love every little thing it represents. Everything I've ever done wasn't so I could destroy America; it was so I could become it."

"What the hell are ya talking about?" AJ asked, bending over to be eye-level with the fallen King. He looked up at her, and managed to form a small smile.

"Your so naïve," he said in a whisper. "You're so devoted to your country… that you can't see what they really are. You… look past the greed, past the corruption, past the… war crimes and the bigotry. You ignore the innocent lives… you've taken in the mad search for power. But that's all I see. And damn… that's like a dream come true for me. To have all that money and power, and do… anything you want with it without… even getting a second glance. Any other countries display a missile, and… it's an act of war, but you… you get to show off all of that technology, and more. It's… glorious."

"You're… you're deranged," AJ spat, standing upright. Sombra started to laugh again, blood dripping from his crimson lips.

"You can't… look past what you've been told… to see the truth," he said softly. "But you will. Someday… you'll see everything that I see, and you'll love it. After all… it is the greatest country… in the world."

Sombra arm shook as he slowly raised it to his head, and then, in a final show of glory, gave AJ a salute.

"God… bless… America…" Sombra breathed out, his voice fading into nothing. "And may… we all… prosper… like it…"

Sombra's eyes rolled back into his head. With a heavy thud, he fell face first into the marble floor. His golden crown rolled off of his head, traveled across the ground, and came to a rest at AJ's feet. AJ stared down at the fallen King, unsure of what to fear. She didn't believe any word from his mouth. He was deranged, she reminded herself. She had no reason to listen to anything he said at all. Nothing that shocking could be true. Couldn't it?

Click

AJ froze. She recognized that sound all too well. It was the sound of a pistol being cocked, and it was close; very, very close. In a haze, AJ turned her head to the right, and found herself staring down the barrel of a gun, being held less than an inch away from her skull. The Unknown looked at her through the faceless mask. His finger was on the trigger, and he said nothing. He simply stared at her, no expression at all. Was he going to kill her out of fear? Out of anger, perhaps? Or maybe, just maybe, he was going to kill her just because. She wouldn't have time to swat away the gun before the trigger was pulled. She didn't have any secret superpower to get her out of the situation. She had no friends to help her, and she was most certain that The Unknown was not going to listen to reason. After all, he had no reason not to kill her.

It just made sense that she was going to die.

"AJ!"

Suddenly, both The Unknown and AJ's heads flipped towards the doorway, where a blood-covered Pinky was standing in shock. Pinky immediately reached for her gun, and out of the corner of her eye, AJ saw The Unknown move, indicating her incoming death.

However, he didn't pull the trigger. In fact, he didn't fire at all. The Unknown grabbed onto AJ's arm, wrapped it around her back, and then flung her to the ground. As AJ fell, she picked up three things. One was the surprise of not being shot, the reason of which she could not fathom. The second was The Unknown firing at Pinky, shooting the gun directly out of her hands, but not at all hurting the blonde.

The third thing she picked up was The Unknown whispering something into her ear.

As soon as AJ hit the ground, The Unknown made a mad dash towards the window. Pinky dove after her gun, but by the time she reached it, The Unknown had reached the glass wall, and promptly dove through without any hesitation. Confused, Pinky ran over to the broken wall, and peered over the edge of the cliff. Many yards below, she could barely make out the shape of a man sliding down the mountainside using a sharp, claw-like object attached to his hand. For her, it was already too late; The Unknown was gone.

"AJ, are you alright?" Pinky asked, rushing over to her friend. AJ laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in utter shock. "Uh, AJ? Are you alright? You're not dead, are you?"

Pinky started to rock AJ back and forth, which managed to shake AJ out of her stupor.

"Wha… huh… oh, yeah, I'm fine," AJ sad, getting to her feet.

"Is that Daltenoss?" Pinky asked, mildly disgusted, pointing at the bloody corpse on the floor.

"Yeah, he's taken care of," AJ stated, picking Tara's sword and sheathe off of the floor.

"So we can get out of here now? The guards are pretty much clear…" Pinky said enthusiastically.

"Yeah. Let's go," AJ sighed, starting to move towards the large doors. She glanced over her shoulder at the broken wall, thinking of what she had just witnessed.

"What happened with The Unknown?" asked a confused Pinky.

"I wish I knew," AJ said honestly. "I really wish I knew."

__________

March 16th, 2016

"Yes, I fully understand that," Celestia groaned, resting her head on her hand. "No, that doesn't… but… you're not paying attention!"

Tara had never seen Celestia so fed up. Whenever the chairwoman was brought up, Tara usually envisioned someone of a peaceful and angelic quality. What Tara wouldn't have imaged was a screaming, irritated blonde practically stomping around the Briefing Room with a cell phone placed to her ear, angrily yelling at her superiors. The P.O.N.Y's watched silently from the back of the room, none of them daring to speak.

"Look, a terrorist took out the king and his son," Celestia repeated. "We have the files to prove they worked together. Nothing about this operation got out. I don't know why—"

Celestia paused. She rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"There is no proof!" Celestia screamed. "A couple of drunks doesn't mean—"

Celestia paused again. She sighed heavily.

"Yes, sir," she said grudgingly. "Of course."

Celestia hung up her phone, and resisted the urge to throw it against the wall. She muttered several curses to herself, before she remembered that she had six teenagers watching her movements.

"So… is it bad?" Dash asked, her voice teetering on being sarcastic.

"Well, we're faced with a string of international incidents," Celestia sighed. "Any one of which is warranted of executive interference. Layman's terms: America is facing a series of trade issues over Vitrumia-based materials due to the death of the kings, the material might be contaminated anyway because we would have bought it from a country that worked heavily with a terrorist, but that probably won't matter, because despite the overwhelming evidence, several guest testimonies quote seeing you girls attacking the guards, which would then open a whole other can of worms that could potentially lead to an investigation of the entire United States government. So, yes, Dash… it's pretty bad."

"That's a lot of bad news," Tara said softly. "Is there any way that we can get out of this, like, at all? It sounds like whatever we do, we lose."

"Do you mean any way that we cannot look like psychopaths and make the country improve in some way, shape or form? No, not a chance in hell," Celestia sighed. "Unfortunately, the blame for this is falling down to you girls."

"What did we do?" AJ asked, confused. "We stopped terrorists. That's our job."

"You acted against our orders," Celestia stated. "We could have attempted a diplomatic solution, but instead, you just had to run in and kill the kings."

"But we did our job right," AJ stated. "If we didn't act—"

"AJ, I think this is just as much bullshit as you do," Celestia sighed. "But it's out of my hands now. And, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but…" Celestia lowered her voice greatly. "They're considering shutting P.O.N.Y. down entirely."

"But that's—"

"Not fair, I know, Tara," Celestia said again. "Look, the decision isn't final yet. For now, they want to keep you very low on the radar, so we're not going to be having any more missions for a while."

"So if The Unknown strikes, we're just supposed to sit here and wait?" AJ asked, getting frustrated as well. Celestia fiddled with her hands for a moment, avoiding eye-contact with the group. Finally, she sighed.

"Yeah… I suppose so."

The girls were silent. No one knew what to say. They weren't sure whether to feel angry, disappointed, or shameful. Pinky watched her feet tap on the ground again and again. Rachel rested her head on her knees, her glass eyes gazing at some unspecific spec in the distance. Fiona hid her embarrassment underneath her hair. Dash muttered countless obscenities.

But Tara felt the worst. She didn't have the spirit to say that she was in the right. No matter how much she wanted to believe that she did the proper course of action in Vitrumia, deep down, she knew it wasn't so. She felt like a failure. Not just a failure, but the biggest failure in the world. Her carelessness could lead to millions suffering in some form, and it was all her fault. She could have passed on the blame to the rest of the group, but it didn't feel right either. She was the leader, and it was her job to lead. If her team made a horrible mistake, then it was only justified to pass the blame to her.

Suddenly, Tara's thoughts were interrupted when AJ stood up with an emotionless expression, and marched out of the room. Everyone was startled by the signs of life that seemed so absent from the meeting, but no one knew what to do. After a few seconds of silence, Tara stood up, and chased after her friend. AJ was still in view when Tara left the Briefing Room.

"AJ, where are you goin?" Tara called out. AJ stopped in her tracks. When she responded, she never turned around.

"I have some things to take care of," AJ stated, although her voice gave away her anxiety.

"What kind of things?"

"Personal matters. I'll be out for a bit. Don't worry about me."

"AJ, we just got told we can't leave for missions."

"This isn't a mission. It's just… well, it's just…"

AJ couldn't get the words out. It was something Tara couldn't understand, and more importantly, wasn't meant to understand.

"AJ, we're your teammates," Tara said, stepping closer to her friend with each word. "We handle things together."

AJ sighed. "Not this time, Tara. I'll be back soon."

AJ continued down the hall, only one thought set on her mind. However, just before she was able to leave, she heard the rapid footsteps behind her, and felt a hand on her shoulder.

"AJ, wait," Tara said softly. "Do you remember when we were in that cell, and you told me about what happened to you as a kid?"

AJ slowly nodded.

"Well, I've just been wondering, and I know it's not really my business," Tara said, almost embarrassed to ask. "But… what did happen when you talked to Mac that day after your first mission."

AJ was silent. Dreadfully silent. She didn't want to answer, for it still hurt inside to do so. But Tara had asked an honest question, and AJ needed to give an honest response. It was simply the way she did things. AJ closed her eyes.

"I never spoke to Mac that morning," AJ said quietly. "I woke up, and was told that after he went home from the party, he took a gun, and put a bullet in his head."

Tara instantly removed her hand from AJ's shoulder.

"They say they don't know why he did it," AJ continued. "But I think I know. I think, deep down, he never wanted me to follow in his footsteps. I don't think he could bear to see me waste my life like this, to become a soldier. Maybe he wanted me to do something better with my life. But this is who I am, and I can't change it."

"AJ, I'm…" Tara stumbled with her words. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," AJ said dryly. "I am too."

AJ said no more. She walked straight out of the base, through the Chinese restaurant, and stopped at the main entrance. The thought of Mac's death stung a primitive part of her brain, a part that had yet to grow numb to violence. But she shut that part out. Instead, she focused on the sentence that had plagued her for two full days.

"342 Graver's Road, Warehouse 22."

The words haunted her. Why would he bother speaking them to her? Why didn't he kill her when he had the chance? Why didn't he kill her friends? Why did he have to kill Sombra? And why, if her hunch turned out to be true, would he lead her directly to his base? To kill her? Why not just kill her earlier?

The questions tugged at the strings in her mind, each trying to take primary control. However, through all of the thoughts, the confusion, the heartache, the pain, the pressure, the anxiety, all of it, she was certain of one thing.

The Unknown spared her life, and she was going to find out why.

End of Chapter 10

Chapter 11: The Truth (The Unknown)

Chapter 11: The Truth

Part 1 of 2: The Unknown

March 17th, 2016

Waiting was one of the most painful tasks that Tara had ever endured. It meant for her a lack of certainty, a lack of control. She couldn't stand it. Patience was a virtue, an incredibly important skill that involved retaining enough power over her skill so that she could stay calm for any future event. However, this was not waiting, because patience usually indicated preparing for something good.

But this was by no means good. It was hellish, in fact. Her friend had been gone for over a day. AJ hadn't even given any indication to where she was going, or really how long she would be away. All Tara knew was that, eventually, whether it be five minutes or five months, her friend would return. Tara couldn't shake the feeling that, even worse, AJ happened to be doing something incredibly dangerous. It nagged the back of her mind, seeping into her thoughts whenever she wasn't already thinking about it. There was no relenting from this grief that consumed her. He knew AJ was qualified, even more so than the rest of the P.O.N.Y's put together, yet she couldn't let go of the feeling that she would never be seeing her friend again.

Perhaps she wouldn't be so concerned if there also wasn't a shutdown looming over the operation as well. Tara wasn't feeling optimistic about that either. What would she even do after this was over? Where could she go? For all she knew, her family thought she had died months ago, or they were dead themselves. Even if that wasn't the case, she couldn't face them again. She didn't want to see their sob-contorted faces. That would surely break her.

"I am so fucking bored," Dash groaned from elsewhere in the sleeping quarters.

Maybe I'll get broken anyway, Tara couldn't help but think with a sigh. None of the girls saw any point in training further. They were probably going to be disbanded, regardless of how well they could do in combat. As such, the five girls lay pathetically in their bunks, allowing the time to endlessly pass by. Tara checked the time; nearly eleven at night. She hoped that, maybe, the other girls would fall asleep, and leave her alone with her thoughts.

Yet no one could sleep, and in truth, none of them expected any less.

"You know, Dash," Rachel said. "You don't have to be lying here. You're perfectly allowed to run around the track, or something."

"Not in the mood," stated the rebel. "I need to stretch my limbs; get out in the field. Maybe kill something."

"She's totally right, by the way," Pinky chimed in from above. "Lying down isn't my thing."

"No one is forcing you to lie down either, Pinky," Rachel stated once more.

"Yes, you are," Pinky retaliated. "I'm sticking with you guys, and you all want to sit in here like a bunch of sacks of flower. So here is where I'll stay."

"That's sweet… I guess," Tara said. "But maybe we should get up. Exercise is good for cleansing the mind."

"True," Rachel chimed in. "It provides a healthy amount of endorphins that stimulate the blood flo—"

"Okay, I'm out!" Dash said loudly, hopping to her feet. She raced out the door, with Pinky energetically trailing behind. Rachel sighed, and jumped down from her bead. She picked up her white cane off of the floor, and carefully followed the others. Tara smirked. She needed something new to happen, or else she feared that she might have gone insane form the waiting.

But then, Tara noticed Fiona lying in the bunk across from her, back turned and breathing slowly. The girl appeared to be sleeping, and from the gentle heaving of her back, Tara assumed she was having sweet dreams as well. Unfortunately, Tara did not know whether to let the girl sleep or not. This was the second time in the past week that Fiona had caught some decent slumber, and Tara didn't want to waken her again. Yet she specifically remembered Fiona stating that if she had any problems at all, they were always open to discussion. And, as it so happened, Tara currently had a lot of problems. Still, it stood to reason that five more minutes of sleep wouldn't kill anyone, and so Tara, trying to stay quiet, opened the door.

"What do you think will happen to us?"

Tara nearly jumped out of her skin, and yelped, her hand rattling on the doorknob.

"Oh, sorry," Fiona said, quieter. "I thought you knew I was awake."

"If I did, you wouldn't still be there," Tara responded. She lightly patted Fiona on the back. "Come on. Let's go spar a little. We can talk."

"I don't feel like getting up," Fiona sighed. "I don't really feel like doing much."

"You mean, you just want to be left alone in here?" Tara asked, skeptical. "In this tiny, quiet, lonely, dark room, you want to be completely alone?"

"I don't get that easily scared," Fiona said, knowing that if anyone else had said the same thing, she would have been insulted. "Besides, what's the point?"

"Keeping our hopes up, that's the point," Tara said cheerfully. "And what did you mean about what's going to happen to us?"

"Tara, you know what I mean," Fiona sighed. "P.O.N.Y… it's not going to stay around. They say their still deciding, but really, they already know. We'll be split up, sent far away from each other, back to live our old lives again." Fiona sighed. "But I hated my old life. I didn't have any friends. No one talked to me, or said hello, or cared about what I did. These past few months have been the only real times I felt like a person, you know? And… I don't want to lose that."

"Fiona, everything is going to be fine," Tara said, trying to hide the uncertainty in her voice. "Even if P.O.N.Y. does get broken up, we're not going to abandon each other. We're friends. We can always stay in touch."

"That's easy for you to say," Fiona said softly. "You have a family to go back to…"

Tara wasn't sure how to feel. She knew full well that she could never let Fiona know her true feelings; feelings of loneliness, self-doubt, confusion, hate, sadness. Fiona already had so little, and Tara had a sincere feeling that she was one of the last things Fiona had left to anchor onto. So, Tara did the one thing a leader should do. She brushed aside her feelings, taking care of each individual demon so that it could no longer haunt her. She took a deep breath, and stated as confidently as she could,

"P.O.N.Y. isn't going to break apart."

Fiona flipped herself over, looking at Tara with a mixture of confusion and hope. Hair covered most of her face, leaving only her bright green eyes exposed through a tangle of pink. Tara placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"We are a team," Tara said proudly. "It honestly doesn't matter what anyone else says. We've been through absolute hell together, and there is absolutely no way that we're going to let something like this end us. And if it does shut down? That doesn't matter, because we won't be. No one is going to get abandoned. That's the point of being friends. And…"

Tara sighed, and put on a grin.

"…if it really comes down to it, you can stay at my place. No rent needed."

Fiona scrunched her nose. With one swipe, she pushed the hair out of her face, revealing the faint traces of a smile plastered over a very doubting, quizzical expression. An expression that practically read, "You're ridiculous, Tara, but you're wonderful." Tara, now with a large smile herself, pointed at the door, and spoke in her best, most leader-like voice.

"Now, get out there and spar with me, you adorable, lesbian insomniac!" Tara ordered. Fiona couldn't help but burst into a fit of silent giggles, and pressed her face tightly into her bunk. Tara yanked on her friend's arm, and reluctantly, Fiona slid out. Without wasting a moment, she wrapped her arms around Tara's shoulders, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"You rock, Tara," Fiona sighed. "You absolutely rock."

"Anything for a friend," Tara sighed as well. "You still totally have a crush on me, by the way."

"I still don't," Fiona said defensively, smiling still. "But I do appreciate being called adorable."

"Get moving," Tara groaned, hiding a laugh. Fiona broke off the hug, and held the door open for her best friend. Tara eagerly walked through, and Fiona hurried to the training room. Yet Tara paused mid-step, and turned the other way. She gazed up at the ceiling, towards the exit of Camelot. She let her thoughts go out to the world, knowing full well that they would not be heard. In her heart, though, she felt as if she would be.

Do you hear that, AJ? Tara thought with a grin. We're friends, and we look out for each other. So you better come back alive, you hear?

"Tara, come on!" Fiona shouted from twenty yards away. With one last sigh, Tara turned, and chased Fiona down the hall. Soon, everything would be back to normal. Soon, AJ would arrive, and soon, P.O.N.Y. would be left alone.

And Tara waited eagerly.

__________

342 Graver's Road. The haunting final destination. How long had AJ spent looking for it? Hours upon end, nonstop scanning of the streets of Philadelphia. She knew she was looking for a warehouse, and this took her to the most deserted, worn-down parts of the city. On any other occasion, she might have said she found success. She accidently stumbled across an illegal sex trafficking ring, much to her surprise. She made sure to take time out of her search to kill the seven guards and free the fifteen trapped women, which, on any other occasion, would have brought her a sense of accomplishment. She found a base for the recuperating Grizzlies, which were now under the management of one Mr. Henry Gonzales. AJ found the time to blow up the entire building with C4, and on any other occasion, she would have felt like something productive was done.

But she felt nothing like it. In her mind, it was just successive failure after failure. It didn't matter how many lives she saved, or how many criminals she killed. He was still out there, hiding, undoubtedly waiting for her arrival. And yet, she remained as lost as ever. AJ really wished that it would be as simple as typing in some numbers on a GPS, but alas, it appeared that the location had been entirely wiped from history. There were no phone records of it, no satellite images, and no other residences to even indicate that it had once been around at all.

AJ considered that might have been the case. Why would The Unknown bother giving her his exact location? For all he knew, she would show up with a squadron of the SWAT team, and destroy the whole of the property. So he gave her a fake address, to send her wandering around aimlessly, roaming the streets until she lost her will to continue on, or maybe went insane. Either or. She had no reason to trust in this information at all, and yet, here she was, wandering Philadelphia to find a terrorist, who, for some reason, she believed would give her all of the answers he was looking for. When it was put like that, AJ realized how incredibly stupid it sounded.

But her gut was telling her to keep searching, and so she looked. A day passed by without any further progress. AJ slept in an alley way with her hat folded over her eyes. She wanted to go back to Camelot, but her stubbornness kept her away; she refused to be labeled as a failure. No one bothered her, thankfully, nor did anyone try to steal Dash's motorcycle, which AJ had been using to ride around on, careless of what scorn she might receive later. Spring was arriving late, as there was a chill in the air when AJ searched up and down the streets again. She heard somewhere that it was supposed to rain heavily, but her resolve would not fade.

Finally, starved of food for two days and weary, AJ pulled to the side of the road, and punched her hand into the nearest wall. She rubbed her face forcefully with both palms, and then slid down the wall in anguish. AJ had finally come to the conclusion that she had been tricked. That simply had to be it. Why she ever decided to think that The Unknown would ever give her help? He was her enemy, a threat to everyone and everything she ever knew. There was no faith to be had. As AJ groaned into her hands, she felt ashamed of herself.

You're supposed to be better than that, AJ, she couldn't help but think. Mac taught ya to be better than to waste time chasing down bad leads. An' he taught ya to know bad leads, too. Why would ya ever even think that The Unknown would let ya find him by staying in the same city that—

And then, AJ had an epiphany. How could she have not seen it before, when it was right in front of her? It was so obvious, and yet stupidly, she had discarded the memory from long ago, thinking it had no meaning. As the rain started to pour on to her Stetson, AJ rose to her feet, and drove as fast as she could out of the city.

And now, midnight was fast approaching. While her friend unknowingly sent out a call for hope to the streets of Philadelphia, AJ was speeding down the highway, a trail of water kicking up behind her. Her bag hung around her torso, flapping in the heavy winds. Rain splashed constantly against her helmet in the pitch black of night. Her jacket was thoroughly soaked through, and her grip on the handlebars was slippery at best. But AJ was no dissuaded as she sped ever closer to the end.

With a crack of lightning signaling her arrival, AJ got off of the freeway, and followed the signs to the town of Delaport, Pennsylvania. There, using the dim lights of her bike to guide her, she navigated the narrow streets to Ymerton College.

AJ smirked underneath her helmet. She knew the town like the back of her hand, having spent an entire month living in it undercover. The Unknown had launched an entire raid of her school in this town, which meant he never intended to leave. He was never in Philadelphia at all. Why would he even allow himself and Discord and McCarther and Moon to all take residence in the same place? No, he was here. And AJ knew exactly where.

As the clock struck 11: 45, AJ passed by Ymerton College. It was equivalent to facing a ghost. In the darkness, no signs of life were present. AJ wondered how many kids had been scarred for life in this place. She thought of all of the youths who were hopeful for the future, to take off and soar, only to be shot down. How much innocence was forever taken that day, she asked herself. Because of her. Because of him.

No more, she thought, hate welling up inside her. She drove on, noticing how empty the streets were. No one dared to walk outside anymore. Fear had taken permanent residence in their hearts. At last, AJ found exactly what she was looking for. On the edge of town lay a series of warehouses, used to store materials mostly unseen by human eyes. No one really knew what was there, and no one really cared. As AJ entered Graver's Road, she once more took presence of the sheer lack of humanity; it was just her and the rain. On Graver's Road, there were many driveways which led to temporary housing, all of which had shut windows and locked doors. However, one address, 342, simply had a long dirt road, leading down a shady hill. AJ parked at the top of this road, and stared down into the abyss. She thought she could make out the eyes of a deer, gleaming in the moonlight. Perhaps it was taking shelter from the rain. AJ turned, and slowly descended down the path. Almost instantly, she came to a clearing. Miles of warehouses lined the path, each with a large, printed number on the roof.

However, AJ didn't need to see the numbers, for over one hundred yards away, she could make out the faintest of light shining through the rain. AJ sighed, and got off her bike. She slung her bag off of her shoulders, and plopped it on the ground. Unzipping it, she immediately pulled out her hat, and replaced the helmet with it, shaking around her damp hair. Then, she removed the rest of the bag's contents: two pistols, a light machine gun, four grenades, and two machetes, souvenirs from Vitrumia.

Okay, AJ, ya got this, AJ thought to herself. With her weapons strapped to her, and her hat tipped low, AJ began her assault on the warehouse. She kept low to the ground as she sprinted towards the illumination in the darkness. Occasionally, a flicker of light would burst from the heavens, exposing a girl madly running across the dampened earth. AJ was getting closer to her destination; only one hundred feet away now. Another flash of lightning, and AJ quickly slipped behind the cover of two barrels, which had been left out overnight. AJ peered her head over the barrels, but saw nothing. Could they see her? She couldn't afford to take a chance. She waited patiently for more lightning. Soon, she got her wish; a bolt struck down less than a mile away. AJ jumped up as fast she could, and with the thunder, fired five quick shots at the door.

But the bullets struck only steel; AJ was still alone. AJ looked around, confused. This was clearly the correct building, wasn't it? She gazed up. The number, "22", was painted in bold over the large steel entrance. AJ walked to the front of the warehouse. Surely, she had to be missing something. And, fortunately, she found out that she was correct. While the large, twenty-foot wide door was impressive, she had been looking at the wrong place. Painted on the gate, in pure white color, was an arrow, heading to the right. AJ stepped around to the side (but not before peering around the corner with dual pistols at the ready), and discovered that there was a rusty red door, leading straight inside. AJ walked to the door, and read the words hastily written on it in the same white coloring as before:

Knock

AJ looked at the sign quizzically. She tilted her head, and tapped her fingers against her hip. She briefly looked around, but no one else was present. Attached to her left side was her machete, which she gripped with one hand, ready to strike if the need arose. With her free hand, she slowly reached for the door, and struck it thrice. After a few seconds of waiting, AJ hit the door again, this time much harder.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, only about two inches. The room inside was dimply lit, and AJ could only make out the silhouette of the man who peered through the door.

"What do you know?" he muttered. His voice was gravely, and sounded genuinely surprised. "A cowgirl, armed to the teeth, has showed up. Guess the boss wasn't losing his mind…"

The door opened fully, and a man, not much taller than she, stood in the opening. He waved her inside. It was so inviting; a chance to get out of the rain, out of the cold. But she collected her thoughts quickly. She was going into the headquarters of the enemy, and she needed to expect the worst. Never taking her hand off of the blade, AJ entered the warehouse.

Everything was brown and murky. The rain pounded hard against the metal ceiling. On the side of the wall was a tiny television, where several of the men watched a game of basketball unfold. There were only ten men in all, including the one holding the door open. At the back wall was a staircase, which led up into the ceiling. Directly in front of the steps were two lounge chairs, and two men, both of which clearly on drugs, were chatting to each other.

"I tell you, nigga," Jerome sighed. "We finally moving up, ya know what I mean?"

"Life has been going good," Anwar said. "By the way, young babe just walked in. Damn, she is something."

"I have fuckin' eyes, nigga," Jerome groaned. "You don't got to be narratin' everything."

"An' you still too uptight. I thought after we kicked that little white bitch out and ran over him with your car, you could at least smile, or some shit."

"I do smile," Jerome retaliated, taking in another smoke. "That's why I'm acting fucking positive. See, when a fellow man says he's movin' up in the world, then that mothafucka's bein' positive. Asshole."

AJ looked distastefully away from the two men. She could only assume that The Unknown lay past them, up the stairs. She immediately thought of something positive as well: If these were all of the men The Unknown had left after he lost his allies, then she could probably kill all of them right here and now. Sure, she wasn't entirely sure if she could beat The Unknown by herself, but she could easily weaken his plan. However, she remembered Mac's advice: never rush into things. Plan out each possible scenario before acting on your judgment.

Unfortunately, she hardly had time to think about such things when she heard hard breathing from behind her. The man guarding the door had walked behind her, almost pressing himself to her in a most unpleasant manner. AJ did nothing except mildly turn her head in the direction of the breaths.

"Aren't you the cutest little thing I've ever seen," the man whispered into her ear. He suddenly placed his hands on her hips, holding them closer together. "I see that you have plenty of guns, but that don't mean a thing. You talk the talk, but you can't really fight back, can you?"

The man decided to move even closer. His hands trailed downwards, grabbing onto AJs rear, and squeezing. Still, AJ did not move a muscle. Her hat hung in front of her eyes, and her arms dangled loosely at her sides.

"The boss doesn't know you've arrived," the man added, his head right next to AJ's ear. "None of these guys will help. Who needs to know that you showed up fifteen minutes early?" The man wrapped his arms around AJ's chest, and pulled her into him, nearly crushing her.

AJ grinned. In a flash, she drew out her machete, and, without even looking back, impaled the man in the groin. He screamed and stumbled backwards, falling to his knees. The seven men gathered around the television were shocked into an alert, and hurried to pick up their weapons. AJ moved fast; she leapt off of one of the boxes, and fell down with her knife extending through a man's head. Someone else had managed to pick up a gun, and took several shots in her direction. With haste, she scooped the body into her arms, and used it as a shield as she dashed towards the shooter.

But then, she felt someone take ahold of her arm. And then her other arm. And then another arm wrapped around her neck. The next thing AJ knew, she was being held down by three men, her machete fallen to the floor. She flailed her legs wildly, but couldn't get free. The man she had previously stabbed marched towards her. AJ struggled harder.

"You cut my fucking balls off!" he screamed at her. He angrily picked her knife up off of the floor. Blood ran down from his pants, creating a puddle underneath his feet. AJ's eyes widened in fear. She couldn't shake herself free. The machete was mere inches from her face, and she could barely do anything to stop it.

"Hold her still," the man declared. "I'm gonna make this one slow."

At that moment, a ferocity awoke inside of AJ that she barely knew existed. She had come too far to die. Answers were right in front of her face, and she refused to let them escape now. She was better than these men. She knew it. She would not go quietly into the night, and she was about to prove it. AJ closed her eyes, anticipating each movement her enemy could make. She felt a sudden rush of energy, hearing the rapid attack of her foe.

When the man jutted out his arm, AJ shot her eyes open. She launched herself in the air, and wrapped her free legs around the man's arm. She twisted around, hearing the crunching of breaking bone. The man was thrown of balance, and was dove towards the guard holding AJ's right arm. The blade struck the unarmored flesh, cutting a deep wound into his chest. Before he even had time to react, AJ had freed her hand, unsheathed her other blade, and stabbed it through her attacker's neck, the steel breaking through the top of his skull.

AJ slipped out of the grasp of her other two captors, and sliced at their legs; only one of them was knocked off balance. The other charged at her, and she cartwheeled away from his kicks. In her peripheral vision, she saw another two men coming at her. Out of the ten men in the room, two lay drugged in the corner, one lay dead, and two were wounded.

This was where AJ got to shine.

AJ's hand slipped down to her belt, and she unhooked a grenade. She charged at the two soldiers, causing them to briefly panic. In that short amount of time, AJ pulled the pin out of her grenade, and placed it into one of the man's grip. She reached for his arm, and slammed him into his comrade, causing them to slide to the door. Someone tried to throw her with them, but she used them as a springboard, launching her to the other side of the room.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Limbs flew across the room in a shower of blood. AJ shook her head as she rose from the floor. She had cut it too close; she felt the flames on her back. All she could make out was white noise. She hoped that luck was on her side, and the soldiers in the room were just as dazed, if not more. Next to her, Jerome and Anwar covered their ears.

"Man, its loud in this bitch," Anwar muttered to himself, unaware of the danger present. AJ paid no mind to him, however, and focused on the others in the room. The blast had been effective, but she was in no mood to replicate such an attack. AJ pulled her pistol out, and took deep breaths to steady her hand. It was difficult to aim when the entire world was rotating beneath her. AJ knew that firing randomly into the darkness would be the most effective way of taking down threats. Unfortunately, she also knew that the less gunshots she had to hear with sensitive ears, the better off she would be.

Why does this place have to be so damn dark? AJ thought angrily. She couldn't make out any movements among the shadows. All she could think of was the potential of someone about to kill her. For all she knew, there could be a man two feet in front of her face, about to cave her face in. She sighed, and realized being careful with her aim was no longer an option. AJ threw the pistol to the ground, and whipped out her machine gun. Using her left hand to cup her ear, AJ held out the gun with one hand, and sprayed it around the room. Her teeth clenched tightly together as the weapon shook violently, bullets bouncing off of the walls like rubber. Someone cried out; maybe a flesh wound, or perhaps a kill. AJ couldn't tell.

Twenty seconds passed, and AJ removed her finger from the trigger. Everything was deadly silent. Finally, AJ could stop stuttering, and open her eyes. It was still dim, but at least she could make out the forms of her foes. Aside from the one killed by her blade, and the chunks of the grenade victims, there were two dead littering the ground, one of them having suffered a previous wound to the chest. The other three men were keeping low to the ground, trying to regain a sense of their surroundings.

These guys just don't quit, do they? AJ cursed in her mind.

Her blades had scattered across the room from the explosion, both of them falling behind the enemy. Furthest to her left, one of the goons noticed the weapon, and turned to run for it. He immediately became the target. AJ sprinted after him, covering the many yards in an instant. By the time the soldier had crawled his way to the machete, AJ was right behind him. She pressed onto his back with her palms, and front-flipped over him, landing with her foot planted firmly into his outstretched hand. She turned around quickly, booting the soldier in the head. A bloody tooth popped out of his mouth and sailed through the air. Without losing momentum from the kick, AJ spun again, scooping her foot down, and kicked the blade into the air, which she easily caught. She dove onto her target, planting the steel into his chest. More blood poured from his mouth as he gagged and gurgled in his final moments.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement; a man rising to his feet. AJ casually looked at her weapon. She was no longer playing around; almost all interest in fighting eluded her. It was almost comical how quickly her mind had changed. In a flash, she had decided to change from fighting to for revenge, to fighting to see the blood pour from her foes' wounds. In a way, she was almost more pleased with her actions than before, if only on a deeper level. Maybe this was a very bad thing for her psyche. Or maybe she was always fighting for the sake of it, and prior to this moment, she was just seeking an excuse. Either way, she had two more men to kill. One of them was lying on the floor, and the other was just standing there, ripe for the picking.

AJ glanced back and forth between the man and her blade. Then, she yanked the machete out of the bloody flesh, and threw it towards her newest victim. It spun wildly through the air, eventually connecting the man on his right shoulder, where the steel embedded itself. The man yelled out in agony before he was brutally punched in the face. AJ forced him back, landing blow after blow to his already weakened body. She brought up her knee, striking him in the jaw. He fell to the floor with a thud, and groaned.

Still, AJ would not let up. She grabbed him by the arm, pulling sharply upwards while bending at an opposite angle. She planted her boot into the crook of his neck. She heard him scream in agony, and then the calming sound of tearing muscle. With one final tug, she broke his elbow, and dropped his limp arm to the ground. But it still wasn't enough for her. Her body craved more. She justified her actions by claiming that this man worked for a terrorist, and it calmed her mind enough for her to stop thinking she was a psychopath.

"Please, no more," begged the man, lying pathetically on the ground. AJ knelt down, took him into his arms, and began to choke him. He clawed desperately at her forearm with his last good hand. He made a terrible wheezing noise in protest, but AJ only squeezed tighter. Finally, his pained breaths slowed, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he stopped fighting back.

"Oh God, you killed him!"

AJ turned towards the last man alive. His knee was cut up; having no means to stand, he crawled backwards away from the lone P.O.N.Y, trying his best not to show his fear. He was failing miserably at it.

"Just… just let me go. I beg you," he whimpered. AJ removed her machete from the corpse, and advanced.

"Why should I let you live?" AJ spat at him. "After the shit you've done, I should make you suffer."

"I-I have a f-f-family," he cried. "I just want to s-s-s-s-see my l-l-little girl ag-again."

AJ sighed. For a but a moment, an image of a crying young girl appeared in her mind. She was crying over the fact that she was an orphan, the fact that she was all alone in the world. But to AJ, the poor, tearful blonde in her head was just a shadow, nothing to pay mind to. And so, she took another step forward.

"You held me down and tried to let one of your friends have their way with me," AJ stated. "To me, there aint no excuse to help ya."

"C'mon, please!" shouted the man. "You're just a kid! You don't have to kill me."

"I need to do my job," AJ said, raising her machete for one final strike. "And executing targets is a part of that."

"I promise I won't do anything bad again!" the man shouted louder than ever, raising his hand in a futile attempt to shield himself. "I'll change! I can change! Just have mer—"

SHLK

The steel penetrated the man's neck, causing blood to spurt from the wound. His tongue fell out of his mouth, hanging there as if he were a dog. His eyes were wide, big blue orbs gazing at an unimportant spot in the sky. AJ sheathed the blade, causing the man to collapse to his back. He stared at the ceiling, struggling to get air into his lungs. AJ walked past him. There was no point in trying to save him; nothing she could do could stop the bleeding. Besides, she had no incentive to save him. He was a crook, a thief, and probably a murderer. Probably, was what AJ was telling herself.

"Shit, it just got real quiet man," Jerome sighed. AJ recollected her weapons, which were scattered everywhere and soaked on assorted blood. Her machetes were attached to her hip, and her pistols were back in her hands, resting comfortably in the groves of her palms.

"Man, I think everyone is dead," Anwar said, looking around. "I don't see any fucking people here."

"You think this bitch knows what happened?" Jerome asked, nodding in AJ's direction.

"Ask her, nigga," Anwar sighed. He shifted around to make himself more comfortable.

"Okay, okay. Chill, dog," Jerome said. He waved at AJ. "Yo, you know why everyone is laying around n' shit?"

AJ just stared quizzically at the drugged man. She was not in the mood to be wasting her time with them. They couldn't possibly pose a threat; they could barely stand up. With a groan, AJ walked towards Jerome, and put the gun to his forehead.

"Shut the fuck up!" she yelled harshly. Jerome backed away in panic.

"Oh fuck me," he muttered. "Look, we wasn't doin' nothin', alright? Chill the fuck out."

"You work for the person who stays here?" AJ asked accusingly.

"That creepy mothafucka?" Jerome asked. "Yeah, me and my boy here just started two weeks ago. Sonuvabitch said he could supply us with some ample shit, so we signed on. Been sitting here for two weeks doing nothing, I'd say."

"'Cept smoking," Anwar chimed in.

"Yeah, woman, cut us a fucking break," Jerome said. AJ with little thought or effort, flipped around her pistol so that she held it by the barrel, and smacked Jerome with the handle. He fell back into his chair, rubbing his head and cursing away. Some part of AJ's mind told her to waste him, but she suddenly remembered why she was on a mission in the first place. The Unknown was waiting for her.

With a sigh, AJ walked towards the stairs, and ascended into the ceiling. Once she was at the top, she came to a single hallway, with a single door at the end. The hall had just been refurbished; everything was made of calming wood instead of rusty steel. There was even carpeting lining the floor. Something about the carpeting seemed so familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Same with the walls; something was innately charming about them, and it brought a sense of happiness to her heart. But as for why, AJ had no idea. All she knew was that everything seemed far too familiar for her own good.

AJ took a step forward, keeping her pistol trained on the door. He would burst out and attack her any minute, she just knew it. Yet the door was still. Was he waiting for her to open it? Should she even take the risk? No, she had to go in there if she was to succeed. She was just psyching herself out, that was all. Nothing was overtly familiar about the hallway; she was just nervous about what lied ahead. The door got even closer, inch by inch. Her hand was trembling. She remembered Vitrumia; she couldn't beat him in hand-to-hand combat. She could die right now, if she wasn't careful. No, she had to say confident. She was only making things worse by thinking like that. Everyone was counting on her. Celestia, Tara, P.O.N.Y, Mac; she needed to make them all proud. It was her mission. It was her duty. It was her life.

The door was now directly in front of her. On the other side, she would have to face The Unknown. AJ took a deep breath, and steadied her weapon.

No fear, no worries, no regrets, AJ told herself. No fear, no worries, no regrets.

AJ reached out towards the door. Her palms were sweating.

No fear.

AJ touched the handle; the metal was cool against her skin.

No worries.

AJ took another deep breath. Time seemed to slow down. Every aspect of her thought focused in on her, this door, and what was on the other side. AJ closed her eyes.

No regrets.

AJ's eyes shot back open. With all of her strength, she kicked down the door. In one fluid motion, she rolled into the dark room, sprung back to her feet on the collapsed entrance, and pointed her weapon into the darkness.

All that was present in the dark room was a round table. It wasn't a fancy table, made of any rare materials. Just simple lumber, from an unknown tree, from an unknown place. But it was a very important table. For at this table, far back in the room, was a man. This man had his back faced to the doorway, and he stared at the opposite wall. AJ noticed that there was, in fact, more to the room than she noticed. On the back wall, opposite from the door, was a wall covered with six television monitors. Every single one of them displayed a different news station, which the man watched with great interest.

But the man sitting at the table attracted more interest from AJ. He wore a black suit, shirt tucked neatly into his pants. He tapped the ground with his shoe in a steady rhythm, hitting the ground every ten seconds. Black, leather gloves fitted perfectly over his hands. A black hat rested comfortably atop his head. His hair was an unknown color, as were his eyes, as was his skin, as his face was blanketed by a mask of pure white.

He was The Unknown, and he was certainly not afraid. In fact, AJ wondered if he even noticed her presence. He didn't make any sudden movements towards her. All he did was stare endlessly at the television screens. They news displayed reports of the Vitrumia incidence, WMH Eterprises, overall output of oil by the United States, all of which must have held some vital importance to the terrorist. But AJ knew it wouldn't matter. It was over. All she had to do to end it all, and bring peace to her life, was pull the trigger. He couldn't fight back. He wouldn't fight back. She could do it so easily. She could make everyone proud by firing a single bullet.

AJ would have smirked if she were not so determined. She locked in on The Unknown's masked head. He still didn't move; however, his foot had stopped tapping. AJ placed her finger on the trigger, and began to pull, began to end her grand crusade.

But, all of a sudden, she stopped dead in her tracks, finger stil on the trigger, when The Unknown finally said something:

"You're going to die."

AJ paid no attention to what he had to say. Like a machine, she automatically began to shout at him.

"Don't move!" she screamed. "Don't you dare fucking move."

"You're going to die," The Unknown repeated, this time with slightly more force.

"By the decree of the government of the United States," AJ said angrily. "You're under arrest on accounts of mass murder, conspiracy against the law, and crimes against—"

"Stop rambling for one moment, and listen to me," The Unknown said, clearly more annoyed. "You are going to die."

AJ had no idea what the man was talking about. She was pointing a gun at his head, and somehow, she was going to die? She tightened her grip on her weapon, and took a step forward.

"Shut up!" AJ shouted. "Stop talking right now! You don't have the right to talk after everything you've done!"

"Will you listen to me for once?" The Unknown sighed. He stood up, and slowly turned around. AJ kept her pistol trained on his head.

"Listen to you!? Why the hell should I even keep you alive!? Do you even remember all of the danger you've put countless innocents through? All of the people you harmed? 'Because I do!"

"Put the gun down," The Unknown said calmly. "Calm yourself, Miss Balle. I don't want either of us to make a rash decision."

"Make a rash decision?" AJ said harshly. Every second she spent in this room boiled her blood further, increased her drive to an insurmountable level. She took the high in full force, and was expelling it as strong as she possibly could. "The only decision I can make is to end you now, or let you rot in a cell. There ain't no thought to that. Now get on the goddamn ground, put your hands on your head, and—"

"I'm trying to help you," The Unknown said suddenly. AJ stammered in place, momentarily speechless. He wasn't supposed to say that. He wasn't supposed to "help" her. He was the enemy, and the enemy could provide no help. She shook off her confusion, and gripped the gun even tighter, her knuckles turning white.

"Help me?" AJ asked skeptically. "Help me? Why would you ever want to help me? Better yet, why should I even trust you for a second? You sent over a hundred innocent students to their deaths. You've sent assassins after my friends, mercenaries after my family, and God knows how many times you almost ended my life. Because of you, everyone I know is suffering. Because of you, friends have been forced to leave their families behind, and put their lives on the line everyday just to keep this world safe. As far as I'm concerned, you're the one responsible for everything in my life getting fucked up. All you do is try to hurt people, and now, as you're threatening me, you say that you want to help!? I may not know much, but I sure as hell know who's on my side. Now, get down!"

The Unknown stood perfectly still, staring AJ head on through his white mask. He seemed to stare at her accusingly, as if she were the one who had caused so much pain and misery.

"You didn't listen to me," he finally stated. "I never said I was going to kill you; I just told you that you were going to die."

AJ blinked. She cocked her head to the side, curiously gazing at the man before her.

"What…" she asked softly. "What the hell are you talking about? You can't lie to me; I know your game. If you aint gonna kill me… who is?"

The Unknown bowed his head, and sighed heavily. From what AJ could tell, he was disappointed in her, as if she was supposed to hold the key to some great riddle all knew the answer to except her.

"Anna," The Unknown said. "I'm sorry that you don't know."

AJ took another step forward. Her finger itched; her body was yelling at her to just take the shot, and be done with it all. But something guided her, like a gentle whisper in her mind. Something within was telling her to sit and listen to the man who had been trying to kill her for six months. And for whatever crazy reason, she did.

"What don't I know?" AJ asked. "What are you hiding from me?"

"February 13th," The Unknown stated, clear and confident. "Mount Elbrus. You were hunting down two Russian mercenaries to locate your former general. The mission ended in failure, with Anthony Wilson turning up dead."

AJ was stunned. "How… how do you know that?"

"On your way to infiltrate the Korbalovs' hideout," The Unknown continued without missing a beat. "You accidently came into contact with a Molecular Adjustment for Continued Evolutionary Reform Device Module. The Device was triggered, giving you full contact exposure to the radiation it produced, severely altering your DNA."

"That's a lie," AJ stated with the utmost certainty. "That MACER Device may have given everyone else powers, but to me, it did nothing. It failed."

"The MACER Device has never failed," The Unknown said sternly. "It's impossible that it failed, especially since it affected everyone else in the vicinity. No… your DNA was altered. You just didn't know."

"I would know—"

"You wouldn't," The Unknown cut her off almost instantly. "All DNA is unique. Everyone is affected differently. When you're allies were altered, their powers could be controlled, or were triggered by a specific contextual action. But there are plenty of others who have been altered passively, on a genetic level alone. People who would never even know they've been altered at all, until that new mutation takes effect… like it has started to in you."

"Take effect?" AJ asked. She couldn't help but glance down at itself, already knowing that she would see nothing. Quickly, her eyes shot back up, just in case The Unknown had tried to do anything sneaky. But he hadn't; he just stood there, "helping" her.

"That's how you're dying, Anna-Jean," The Unknown sighed. "Genetically, you've been altered. It cannot be undone. In time, you will truly see the effect of your mutation. Would you like to know what it is?"

No, AJ thought to herself. She would have preferred to ignore his words all together. He had to be spewing nonsense by this point. There was not a chance in the world that she was dying. She was in the perfect physical and mental condition; a soldier trained to be strong, resourceful, durable. Besides, she wasn't even a MACER. The Device failed, and she was not affected. The Device failed, and she was not affected.

The Device had to of failed. She was not dying. It was as simple as that. And yet, The Unknown, seemingly unaware of this truth, continued to talk to her.

"I've seen your blood," he said dryly. He sounded almost saddened to talk about such a thing, which was yet another thing AJ found surprising. He should have been telling her this news with great excitement, and yet, he remained somber throughout, as if sharing her pain. AJ took another step closer, trying to reclaim a strong presence that was briefly lost.

"My blood? How did you even—"

"When Chrysalis infiltrated your base," he stated. "I discovered that you were to take blood tests. A safety protocol, not that it should be unexpected by the likes of your leaders. Chrysalis, despite her worthlessness, was able to send me some rather clear samples through the computer. It only took but a few hours for me to understand what had happened to you… your cells are dying prematurely."

"That's… that's impossible," AJ reassured. "How the hell is that even—"

"Please stop interrupting," The Unknown groaned. "Listen… do you know why humans grow old? It's due to our cells running out of vitality, and newer cells cease to replace them. Stem cells get shorter, skin cells stop dividing, and in the end, you age and die. When you were hit by the MACER Device, the process that occurs in every human being increased its rate of production."

"Do you want to know how you'll end up dying?" he continued coldly. "It won't be a sword through your guts, or a bullet through your skull… in the end, your body will kill itself. Its subtle now, and for some time, it will stay that way. You'll barely notice anything until your mid-twenties. By then, the process would have begun to rapidly increase. You'll get older and older as each year passes, your youth blowing away into dust. Eventually, you'll be physically twice your age, old and useless due to the cruel weaknesses of your own body. You'll die a withering husk, scraggly, unable and pathetic, while everyone you know continues to stay young and strong."

AJ stared at The Unknown, trying as hard as she could to hide her sense of horror behind a cold stare. The Unknown sighed, saddened.

"Your life is on a timer, Anna-Jean," he stated. "Honestly, I doubt you'll ever make it to forty."

"You're lying," AJ snapped. "I'm not dying. I would know if I'm dying."

"You can refuse your fate all you wish, but it won't change anything," The Unknown stated. "You were exposed to the MACER Device, and now, you pay the price for it. As does everyone, I suppose."

"Just shut up, will ya!?" AJ screamed. She felt her control on the situation loosening. No, she felt control on her life loosening. Despite her constant hope that she was being tricked, she could see that she was being told the truth. She could easily tell when she was being lied to; and unfortunately, The Unknown seemed to be entirely honest with her. She was starting to feel it as well. Deep down inside, she could feel her body wasting away. All at once, she seemed to grow old and frail. Her skin turned pale, and her muscles atrophied so badly that she could barely stay balanced. Wrinkles covered her body, and her hair turned white, growing longer and longer. Her imagination ran wild, out of her control. Against her will, she pictured herself aged and alone, wheezing terribly in a chair, trying to catch her breath to stave off her inevitable demise, which only grew closer and closer. In a single moment, she felt all of the worst feelings she had ever experienced: terror, shame, inadequateness, self-disgust; all things AJ had never even known she feared until this moment.

"I'm just trying to help you understand," The Unknown sighed. "Just in case any of those psychopaths you work for try to convince you that being hit by the MACER Device was something good. After all, they did fail to inform you about your condition."

"Don't talk about them like that," AJ growled. "You don't understand them. You don't understand anything. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Hell, maybe they don't even know. Maybe there is nothing to know. You go on and tell me about bein' a Macer, an' yet you don't understand any of it yerself!"

"Of course I understand what I'm talking about," replied The Unknown. "Why shouldn't I know how the MACER Device works… I'm the one who built it."

AJ froze. It couldn't possibly be true. He was bluffing, playing with her mind, just like he had been when he told her about her DNA. But as she struggled to comprehend his statement, something suddenly clicked in her mind. She recalled words from her superior, many months ago, about who built the MACER Device. She very specifically remembered how that man had apparently gone crazy, selling his tool for good to criminal forces out of personal vengeance. And, perhaps more importantly, how he had died of cancer many years ago.

AJ failed to hide her surprise well. With her mouth askew, she barely managed to breathe out her next few words.

"Dr. Murphy," she whispered. At the sound of that name, The Unknown tilted his head, saying nothing. "You're… you're Murphy… the man who created the MACER Device fifteen years ago."

The Unknown stared her down. Suddenly, with his identity revealed, he seemed to grow less frightening by the second. Slowly, AJ got back her resolve, and began to wield her weapon more confidently. How tame the threat seemed to her now. In fact, she felt stronger than ever; she had finally figured out who was underneath the mask. This, to her, was a major victory all in itself. When The Unknown finally did speak, it was in dismay.

"Anna-Jean," said The Unknown. "I don't—"

"Don't you dare try to play dumb with me!" AJ shouted, stepping even closer to the terrorist. She was less than ten feet away now, and began to spew forth everything she knew about the man before her. "I've been told all about you, and your machine. I know about your terminal cancer; how you tried to alter yer DNA to save yer own life. I know it failed, and you went so goddamn crazy that you sold all yer tech to every psychopath you could find. You almost cost a lot of good people their lives with yer stupid selfishness, and even when you had a chance to redeem yourself, you refused, like the scum of the earth that you are. I don't know how you survived, or how you escaped from such tight security, but I won't let you cause any more trouble like that again. Now…" AJ smirked. "Tell me how fuckin' wrong I am."

Silence filled the room. AJ could feel her heart beating in her ears. It felt like she was beating down a giant, crunching the once monstrous entity into nothing. Her hand trembled against the grip of her pistol, blood racing through her veins in what could have been one of the greatest adrenaline highs of her life. She could feel his shock at her knowledge; she could see how nervous he appeared just standing before her. It was truly a tremendous feeling, one that she certainly needed to ride out.

But suddenly, AJ's grin vanished, as The Unknown began to laugh. It started as a low chuckle, before he burst into a mad fit of laughter. He crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head in disapproval. AJ kept her gun trained on the man's head, pondering if he had just lost his mind.

What the hell are you laughin' about? AJ coulnd't help but wonder. As if reading her thoughts, The Unknown straightened himself out enough to speak.

"Dr. Murphy?" he asked aloud, almost insultingly. "Cancer? Black mark— What the hell are you babbling about? I mean, I understand that you've been lied to your whole life, but to be told an entire fable about the past… those men will do anything to make themselves look good."

"Are you trying to psych me out?" AJ asked. "Cuz it aint working. I know what I've been told."

"Oh, AJ," The Unknown sighed. "Would you like to know what really happened, instead of being told this censored, self-righteous nonsense of fiction? Do you want to know what actually happened during the development of the MACER Device?"

AJ remained silent. Like before, she felt as if hearing what he had to say would only damage her further. She already had enough lies to deal with. However, also like before, some part deep in her mind instructed her to listen to every last detail, as if, somehow, it was something she needed to know. And so, AJ did nothing except keep the gun trained at her enemy's head.

"It was really just about fifteen years ago," The Unknown began. "I had spent my entire life studying the genetic code of human beings. It was quite a fascination to me. The vastness of possibility that lied in the genome amused me so much. However, more than that, I was amused by the amount of empty space; the great gaps left for evolution to fill. I dreamed of what could possibly be our next stop. What new talents would human beings developed as they evolved further? It killed me inside knowing that I would never be able to see it. So, one day, I decided that I would rush along the process. If I could trigger something in the human body to speed along the course of history, then I would finally be able to see the greatness of what humanity could be."

"Unfortunately, I was not in a position to make my dreams a reality. Not only did I have a wife and child to attend to, but I couldn't fund the machine itself, let alone build one. I lacked the resources, and the talent. I proposed my idea to every major research firm in the country, but was always rejected. They said it was a scientific impossibility. Some argued that it went against all ethical codes. I was running out of options, so I turned to the last people I thought could help me: the government. It took me months to finally propose my theory. I was sent to meet some people, and I went into great detail about the metaphysics of such a device, and how, if it were to work, it could provide fascinating advancements in medical research. I've only seen a face as happy as those one other time in my life."

"Within the year, research started. It was a simple deal: I would tell the engineers what to build, and they would build it. Once they closely heard what I had to say, they worked as fast as possible. My overseer was a woman named Celestia, who seemed gentle enough for a political operative. She told me how much hope she had for the project, and in some ways, it gave me the confidence that I could actually succeed. She told me that I would be in charge of where to take the team, and that they should listen to everything I say. It seemed almost too good to be true."

"Before I knew it, we began human testing. We started with those who were terminally ill, just to see if anything would happen to their bodies. Quickly, we received hope that the MACER Device would work: one of the patients of miraculously cured of her HIV. Out of a dozen tests, five of them showed remarkable progress in ways we couldn't even fathom. Unlimited stamina, quickened reflexes, a remarkable resistance to high voltages; people were evolving right before our very eyes. Unfortunately, that was also the time we realized our mistake. Since everyone was different, no one could keep track of what mutation would occur. One of our test patients was instantly turned into a gelatinous mess after exposure. To me, the MACER Device was already a failure. If I couldn't guarantee its safety, then I saw no point in continuing research on the project. If I had my way, then it would have ended long ago."

"But my peers had other ideas. They marked off the disastrous failures as 'glitches', demonstrating their carelessness. To them, if they could just find a way to stabilize the Device, there wouldn't be a problem. I knew it was impossible, but to them, the MACER Device was far too… marketable, to be a failure. Celestia told me to keep developing the project. Though I didn't want to, I needed the money, and as I saw it, since no one truly was hurt who already wasn't on death's door, it wasn't entirely unethical. So we continued, except this time, we began to experiment on anyone we could find. They said they needed to determine whether normal individuals could handle exposure to the device. However, sometimes I noticed that they were attempting to sabotage the tests, wanting to see the full consequences of failure. I soon realized why they wanted to continue testing; to weapon-ize the MACER Device. Imagine an entire military force comprised of Macers, or imagine what could happen if a Device went off at an enemy base, set to malfunction so to corrupt the DNA of all inside. I realized this far too late, however. Nothing could stop the testing. Even Celestia's sister was exposed to the Device accidently, and yet this did not dissuade her. In fact, she went on as confident as ever before. But I was growing sick of it all, and was considering leaving, finding work elsewhere."

"The final straw for me came one day a few months later. Without my knowledge or permission, the United States had secretly sent out files pertaining to the MACER Device to England, Russia, and China. For profit. Celestia personally told me that it had been a leak, and the government had not intended to sell such information. But I knew better than that, and she was a terrible liar. I decided to leave, and she even confessed to me that the money gained by selling such information could be enough to sustain my family for the rest of their lives. I promptly resigned, defeated and ashamed of what became of my greatest work. I went to work elsewhere, but I managed to keep track of what had become of the Device. England was using it to secretly develop new medical benefits for their military forces. Russia used it greatly as a means of punishment for federal prisoners, hoping that it would cause them insufferable pain. In China, they took apart the entire Device, and reassembled it into something known as the LN-772, a slow, painful procedure that was intended to give its subjects intense mental and physical powers. And if it wasn't inhumane enough, all ten of its test subjects were young boys, no older than five. That was what became of my precious MACER Device in the end. The community in which I placed all my trust had sold my gift away for top-secret pacts, and money, and fame. They enjoyed a life of luxury as the subjects had their live altered forever."

The Unknown tipped his head, and sighed.

"One month later, they finally realized the error of their ways. A series of unfortunate accidents took way which they could have never expected. In America, a soldier who had been exposed to the MACER Device went mad, found an old sword, and butchered thirty-two men using his powers before disappearing into the night. In Russia, two prisoners were exposed to the Device, and given unbelievable strength and durability. They destroyed the entire prison, killing everyone inside, and then went marching on a mad rampage throughout the countryside. In China, the LN-772 process proved to be too much for the young children, and they used their incredible talents to tear apart the facility. Several had to be shot down, while the others escaped. And this wasn't all. All around the world, these incidents broke out, costing hundreds their lives. News about the MACER Device threatened to seep out into the world, inciting mass panic."

"The blame shifted immediately to the United States. They were accused of being careless with the Device, giving the secrets over to other countries before it had even been tested properly. Some claimed that this was intentional, as if the States had wanted other countries to be blamed for such madness, while the government could look like heroes for cleaning up the mess. Blame was passed back and forth for weeks, as each nation tried to figure out what to do. It was unanimously agreed that all MACER Devices should be disposed of, and that America should be the one who has to keep them in storage. All testing had to cease immediately, and all Macers needed to be rounded up as fast as possible. Our government was still receiving the blame. No matter what they did, no country could trust their decisions. It was decided upon that something needed to be done, the blame needed to be passed to someone, anyone else in the world. We told the other countries that they were not to blame for such horrible mistakes, and that someone else had been manipulating their decisions with incomprehensible greed. Even though the others accepted this excuse, how were they supposed to trust us anyway? What if we were working with the true evil of this problem? There was only one way that the government could save their own hide, and tie up all loose ends."

The Unknown spoke very softly now, his head aimed at the floor. AJ stared him down across the length of the barrel intensely, hanging on every last word.

"I remember the day so clearly. The sun was shining brightly that day, and I could finally send some free time with my family. We went out that day, my wife and my children happy as could be. Everything was so peaceful, calming. I had not a care in the world. When I got home, I played with my children, as a good father always should. And then, before I knew it, everything ended in a flash… with my daughter having to watch her family die right before her eyes."

The Unknown looked up at AJ.

"Tell me, Anna-Jean..." he said. "Have you ever wondered what a coincidence it was that MacDonnell Clive just happened to be driving by your home that day as it burned to the ground?"

The question hit AJ like a ton of bricks. Her eyes went wide and her mouth ran dry. She wasn't sure whether to feel confused or terrified.

"How…" she stammered out. "… how do you know that?"

"Have you ever considered that maybe he was there not by fate, but because he was ordered to be there?" The Unknown asked further. AJ aimed down her sight at the man before her.

"How do you know that!?" AJ shouted, starting to shake.

"And maybe, just maybe, your house didn't get destroyed because of a gas leak, but by C4 planted throughout the structure?" he said further. "What if, by some chance, you weren't meant to survive that explosion, and it was just a fluke that you happened to be outdoors?"

"What… what the fuck are you talking about!?" AJ yelled. Why did her know so much about her family, she wondered. What sort of cruel joke was he playing on her?

"Maybe," The Unknown said sternly. "Maybe you were just another loose end to tie up, another witness to eliminate, even if you didn't understand anything going on around you. Maybe, an agent was sent to your home to slaughter everyone you knew, and leave you for dead. Maybe, perhaps, the man felt guilt at the very last moment, and couldn't handle leaving a little girl to die. So he went back, and tried to save the innocent, knowing how much his bosses would despise him for it. And so, he took the very last thing that was ever held precious by me… you."

"You're… you're lying…" AJ said angrily. She could feel her voice starting to break apart, as she slowly became more hysterical with each passing moment. "My family died in an accident. Mac would never—"

"He tried to do all he could to remain ethical," The Unknown sighed. "He had no problem with murdering those unworthy, but to him, a little girl was going too far. But his superiors were furious at him. You weren't meant to survive that day. Most likely, Celestia would have just shot you in the head and be done with it. But Mac persuaded her that you had other uses, and you could still be of value to them. So the government did the second best thing to you, which was the exact same thing they did to everything else… they weapon-ized you."

"That can't be… you don't know anything…" AJ said in a harsh whisper. Her words were getting lodged in her throat. He was lying to her, like always. He had to be.

"Do you want to know what the true torture was?" The Unknown asked. "It wasn't finding the body of my wife in the rubble. It wasn't having to live with the knowledge of my failures. It wasn't having to crawl my way back up through the criminal world just to discover what had been done to the last person I cared about. No… it was having to watch you turn into a killing machine against my will, knowing nothing could be done to save you. Your childhood was stripped away from you, AJ. Can't you understand what they did to you? A five-year old kid, taught how to take people's lives away from them. You were indoctrinated by them, giving you an unbreakable addiction to violence and bloodshed. You can never get away from it. I've seen you in combat; it consumes you, takes over every thought and action you have, twisting you into a psychopath."

"Shut up…" AJ said sacredly. "You don't know anything about me… you couldn't…"

"I spent the next eight years of my life trying to figure out a way to save you. I went to every criminal organization in the country, selling my services in exchange for government secrets. Slowly, I learned what had happened to you, in the most basic details. I discovered where you were, and who had taken you away. Through the grief of my life, I put together a plan to save you. It all relied on one crucial piece of information, which I was on my way to retrieving. All I needed to do was negotiate with a crime family, and be on my way to saving you. I was at the meeting with the Fuccio crime family, negotiating the price of what I thought to be the last bit of necessary information. And then, the unthinkable happened: you burst through the window, and began to kill everyone in the room. You worked like a machine, executing every last human being with ruthless efficiency. I hid under the table, horrified to watch what had become of you; I had no idea that this was what you were mutated into by those monsters. When you had finally finished, you pulled the gun on me. It had been so long since I had last seen you, but I never expected you to be so different. You walked around like a soldier, showing no care for the dead, and you spoke in that damn accent… it made me sick. And you… you didn't even recognize me…"

"Stop acting like you're my father!" AJ shouted as loud as she could. Her eyes were getting hot, and her hands were trembling so terribly that the gun was pointed towards the floor. "You can't be him! He's dead! You're lying to me!"

"I can only thank God that you let me live that day. I was so glad that you still had some humanity left inside of you, because I could finally put that piece of information to use. The plan had changed. I knew I couldn't undo all of the damage that had been done to you, make you unsee all of the horrors you've had to witness. I realized you weren't the priority anymore. It wasn't just about saving you… it was about making them pay for everything they had ever done to us. We needed to make sure nothing like that could ever happen to anyone ever again. And to me, the best place to start was with the man who stole you away from me. Thankfully, I had just discovered his address…"

AJ was furious. AJ was heartbroken. AJ was terrified. AJ was a bundle of every emotion of the spectrum clustered into a large, convoluted mess. She didn't know what to feel about anything anymore. The pressure was just growing and growing, and she felt like she was about to burst. She closed her eyes, and looked away, somehow hoping that she could block out the steady stream of information.

"I only wish it gave me pleasure to kill MacDonnel Clive," sighed The Unknown. "It was an easy enough task. He was resting comfortably in the dark, and all it took was a single flashbang to take him out of order. At the time, all I could feel was rage as I slowly beat the life out of him. He had taken so much away, and it only seemed fair. Now I wonder if he really deserved to suffer that long. He did save your life, after all. But that could never make me forgive him. In the end, he ended up taking a bullet through his head, and all evidence of murder was covered up. That was the start of all of this. Over the next five years, I constructed my final plan to bring closure to it all. It wasn't an easy process. I went around the world, recruiting all of the men and women I could find, whether it be psychopaths looking for a chaotic world, or an assassin looking for money, or a wealthy prince trying to help his nation. We put everything into motion months ago, but they are long gone. They were the ones who began my cause… but you can be the one who helps me end it."

"Help you!?" AJ shouted in rage. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, and she felt something hot and moist run down her cheeks. "Why would I ever help you!? Why should I believe anything you say! All you've done is try to kill me! How could you help me by trying to end my life!?"

"I saved your life!" The Unknown responded. "At every turn, I've done my best to make sure you survived. Back at Ymerton, when everyone around you was dying… you were to stay alive. They were ordered to bring you back, unharmed. When you were hunted by Discord's top soldiers, one of them nearly sniped you from behind. I saved you then by tackling him to the ground. When you were pinned down in the morgue, I was the one who reflected light off of Moon's gun to give away her position. When Chrysalis invaded your base, I instructed her to leave you, and all of your friends, unharmed. Sombra was ordered to keep you and your friends captured but uninjured. And… during each and every time we've encountered one another, including now… I could have killed you without a moment's hesitation. But I could never do that… we need each other now."

"Stop… lying…" AJ spat, her chest rising and falling with each heavy. The Unknown sighed, and took off his hat, placing it on the table.

"Anna-Jean, put the gun down," he said softly. "You don't need to do this. You're just as much of a victim as I am. You know that I'm telling the truth. Those people… those monsters don't care about you. Once you've outlived your usefulness, they'll cast you aside. They're heartless, Anna-Jean. They stole your family, your free-will, your life away from you. I've waited so long to see you again. Too long. And now, we have a chance to end it all. We can take back everything that was stolen from us. I'm begging you… help me fix this."

The Unknown gently reached towards his head, and began removing his mask. AJ's instincts told her to fire when she had the chance, but she couldn't. Tears were streaming steadily down her cheeks, and her throat knotted up. No matter what she did, she couldn't stop trembling, and she couldn't figure out why. AJ looked on with a sense of dread as The Unknown took off his mask, and laid it on the table. She could see his face from the dim light of the hallway. His blond hair was thin and unkempt, extending out in every direction. His face showed an unmistakable age, heavily layered with many years of sadness and brutality. He looked on at her nearly heartbroken, a man who had been through too much and retained too little. He looked at her gently, like she was the last innocent thing in the world.

He had her eyes.

"Please…" he spoke once more, barely above a whisper. "You're all that I have left."

AJ was overflowing with emotion. It was too much for her to keep inside. She felt so angry and sad, but she didn't know at whom. She was furious with Mac for stealing her, enraged at Celestia for lying to her about her past, irate at her family for abandoning her, sorrowful at the life she never got to have, jealous of her friends who had something to go back to, and so, so hateful of the man before her. Why was he telling her these things? Why would he have to take everything she knew and tear it all down? Why did everyone in her life have to keep lying to her? Now she just a useless, bundled-up pile of rage and discontent, and she didn't even know who was to truly blame. AJ couldn't take it anymore. Her body was a wreck, her mind was a wreck, her spirit was a wreck, and she felt like everything was out of her control.

And it was all because of her man in front of her. AJ clenched her teeth, lowered her weapon, and with trembling lips and tear-shedding eyes, lunged forward with all of her might.

"You liar!" was all AJ could shout as she swung the weapon at his head. Immediately, he came to life. He grabbed onto the gun, tore of the barrel, and shoved AJ back. AJ shot out another wild fist towards his head. Her hand was tossed away, and the next thing she knew, she was flying towards her enemy. She panicked, unable to save herself in time.

But suddenly, AJ felt herself get pulled into a soft embrace. She felt two strong arms wrap around her shoulders, holding her up gently. AJ was too stunned to move; her hands dangled loosely at her sides, still clutching a useless gun, while AJ rested her head on the man's shoulder. For a few moments, everything was still in the dark room.

And then, AJ began to sob. She broke down entirely, reduced to a mere child in his arms. The tears flowed freely now, burning AJ's cheeks as they went. She brought up her arms, and wrapped them around his back. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, allowing her body to be racked with tearful cries of anguish. The two stayed like this, motionless, with only the cries of the broken girl to fill the room.

It was now midnight. The date was March 18th, 2016. A father and daughter were reunited once more.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 11: The Truth (The Daughter of the Enemy)

Chapter 11: The Truth

Part 2 of 2: The Daughter of the Enemy

March 18th, 2016

Tara was thrown to the ground with a thud. She groaned as she rolled herself over, and stood on wobbly knees. Fiona kept her friend balanced.

"Are you alright?" Fiona asked, distressed. "I think I might have done that a little… hard."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Tara said. "That was a pretty good job you did. I'm just a little off today."

"Off? Why? Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm just sorta tired, I guess. And sore, really sore."

"Does this have something to do with whatever you were injected with in Vitrumia?" Fiona asked in fear.

"Are you still on that?" Tara groaned. "That was days ago. Besides, you heard the doctor. Whatever I was given was flushed out of my system. I'm fine."

"Hey, Spark!" Dash called out from the other side of the training room. "Is Fiona bothering you again?"

"Mind your own business!" Tara replied.

"I've been minding my own business for the past day and a half!" Dash shouted back. "Seriously, I think we should go out tonight! It's only eight! It'll be our last, big meal together as a group."

"Shouldn't that mean we should wait for AJ to get back?" Rachel interrupted.

"If AJ ever comes back…" Pinky sighed from the stands.

"Can you all be quiet for a minute?" Tara asked rather rudely. "We're not going out for a meal at a time like this. We have plenty of other things to do. Besides, P.O.N.Y. isn't getting shut down, so there isn't a reason to go out anyway. And, if we were leaving, we would certainly wait for AJ to come back, because she's our friend, and friends don't abandon each other."

"Can we at least eat something?" Pinky practically begged. "We've been working all day, and I'm staaaaaarving. We should at least break for the day."

Tara groaned. "Fine, go eat something. Everyone, go eat something. It's not like we've been constantly been facing off against threats that we have an inability to stop. It's not like we haven't been beaten senseless enough over the past few weeks. It's not like we don't have any information on who else The Unknown is working with, or who's helping him, or anything related to our cause. It's fine. Go eat something."

Four pairs of eyes looked at Tara with utter shock. No one dared to speak anything, out of fear that their leader would snap at them yet again. It was Fiona who was able to muster enough courage to speak.

"Tara," she said gently. "I think you should lie down. You seem—"

"I told you already," Tara growled. "I'm fine. Just go and have fun, or whatever."

"You're not fine," Fiona stated. "Ever since Vitrumia, you've been really frustrated, and it's not good for you."

"Yeah, Spark, it's like someone turned on your 'Bitch-Meter'," Dash agreed.

"I'm not acting bitchy!" Tara snapped. Fiona and Dash quickly backed away, as if terrified by the girl's wrath. Instantly, Tara's features softened, as she realized the intensity of her words. "I'm… I'm just stressed out, okay? I just… have a lot to deal with right now, and if I don't do my best, we all could be in a lot of trouble. And, for whatever reason, I seem to be the only one taking that seriously."

"Tara, you're just human," Rachel stated. "You can't expect to push yourself past these boundaries all you want without any repercussions. Even you need to rest sometimes."

"There isn't time for rest," Tara said yet again. "With everything being considered, each second we waste resting is time lost we could be training. We can't let up no matter what. Or else, what are we, if not a bunch of stupid quitters and… and failures? We need to work harder than ever before. I don't know why any of you don't can't seem to care about this, but I—"

"Tara!"

At once, silence filled the air. Perhaps with even more shock than before, four sets of eyes now rested upon Fiona, who, had built up so much courage just to shout, that she didn't feel any shame in the fact she was being stared at by her colleagues. Fiona took a deep breath, and stepped towards her friend.

"Look, Tara," she said calmly, trying to restrain her emotions. "I know how much this means to you, right now. This is your life, and I get that you really, really care about it."

Tara groaned. "That's not—"

"Don't lie to me!" Fiona shouted, forcing Tara to instantly silence herself. Quickly, Fiona realized that restraining her feelings was not possible, and so she ceased trying. "If I'm good at doing anything in this world, it's understanding people! You know, Dash was right about you, in a way. You get too attached to things, and you get so blinded by your will to succeed that you lose touch with everyone around you! You're obsessed with the concept of failure, and you get so mad about it sometimes that it makes you act crazy; it's like you're not even you anymore! And as your friends, it's so painful to watch you tear yourself up over something so trivial like that, that it tears us up inside knowing that we can't help you! This whole shutdown has been a toll on all of us, but you don't see any of us losing our minds over it! That's because we know that it's not the end of the world, but sometimes with you, it's like you think anything out of order at all sounds doom for your life! I know it might be how you were raised, but you're one of the most intelligent people I know, and I know that you can be stronger than this. No, you need to be stronger than this. Yesterday, you told me, and all of us, that everything was going to be okay, no matter what happened to P.O.N.Y! If you're going to be our leader, follow your own damn advice for once, and have some faith in yourself, like we have in you! Because you're the best of us, Tara! You know it, I know it, and every single freaking person in this room knows it, so start acting like it!"

Fiona panted heavily. She witnessed Tara grow from shocked, to still, to concerned, to depressed. Dash was staring at Fiona most surprised of all, never having heard a single outburst from the shy one. Rachel stared poignantly at the floor, while Pinky simply looked around in a state of confusion. After a few thought-provoking moments, Fiona was able to calm herself, and Tara sighed.

"Yeah… I know," Tara said softly. "It's just… I mean… ugh, there really is no excuse, is there?" Fiona walked to her best friend, and placed her hands on her shoulders.

"It's been a long day," she said, much more quietly. "Go lie down."

"No shit," Dash sighed, walking to the door. "I'm going to bed. Maybe I'll get some food tomorrow. Hell, it's not like anything else is gonna happen here."

At that particular moment, Celestia entered the room, a look of annoyance spread across her face. In her left hand was a cell phone, bright green in color. However, no one took notice of this, for the girls were too busy staring in shock at what was in the chairwoman's other hand: a bottle of beer.

"Girls. Meeting. Now." With those three words, Celestia turned and stomped back to the Briefing Room.

"Man, fuck me and my mouth," Dash muttered. Louder, she added, "Also, was I hallucinating, or was she drunk?"

"Celestia was drunk?" Rachel asked, very much in doubt.

"This probably can't be good," Tara sighed, motioning the others to join her. The five cautiously walked through the halls, trying to figure out exactly what was going on with their superior. As long as Tara had known her, Celestia didn't even seem to remotely like drinking. All Tara could assume was that the stress of the shutdown was finally getting to her, just like it was to everyone else. Still, Tara could see no reason why Celestia would choose to start getting drunk now; especially considering how badly it would reflect upon them. Unless, of course, a decision had been come to, and it was already too late for P.O.N.Y. But Tara preferred to think positively for once (which may or may not have been influenced with the fact that Fiona was staring at the back of her head).

Upon opening the door to the Briefing Room, the girls saw Celestia pacing furiously behind the desk, and taking a swig of her drink. Celestia groaned in frustration, and slammed her phone down onto the desk.

"Uh… is everything alright, ma'am?" Tara asked carefully.

"Not really," Celestia muttered. "I can't believe those bastards don't trust me enough to… urgh…

"You said you wanted us here," Rachel stated.

"Girls, I have some unfortunate news," Celestia moaned, not even trying to show how upset she was.

"Is it… you know…" Tara asked worriedly, not wanting to say the words aloud.

"Sort of, kind of," Celestia answered, once more pressing the bottle to her lips. "I suppose those assholes down in Washington can't make up such an important decision from just using my testimonies. I guess I'm not good enough for those bastards to use, despite all of the things I've done for them. No… they need to send inspectors, checking all over my work."

"We're getting inspected? Like toys?" Dash asked.

"Apparently, my word that you girls are doing well isn't good enough," the chairwoman sighed. "Tomorrow, around noon, three people are going to stop by, and spend several days watching over you, judging to see if you are worth the time and money. And, unfortunately, the people who are coming to visit you girls are the Rat Team."

"Are they… rat-people?" Pinky asked in astonishment. She quickly received many harsh glares, and rushed to defend herself. "What? After all of the crazy things we've gone up against, rat-people aren't too much of a stretch."

"They might as well be rats," Celestia stated, gulping down more beer. She sighed heavily. "We call them the Rat Team because they're the lowest scum of the earth that we know of. Not only are they extremely peculiar in their methods, but they are vicious critics… and assholes. Honestly, if they're coming here to inspect you, then we might as well just give up now."

Celestia plopped herself down in one of the chairs, and stared up at the ceiling. She said nothing for a moment, allowing the silence to fill her otherwise empty shell. Then she began to speak again, but quietly, less angry, as if she were saying something only meant for her own ears.

"They're the worst," she said. "All of them. Never once have they trusted me. That's why they wouldn't let me run an operation before, always placing me beneath someone else, doing someone's dirty work. I make one decision, one that anyone would have made in my place, and I'm thrown out like trash. And now, I finally get to lead my own little operation, and it gets shut down after a month. Pathetic."

"Um… Ms. Celestia?" Fiona spoke up nervously. "Maybe it's… not so bad. I mean, once AJ comes back, and we pass the inspection, everything will be fine. Besides, you're doing everything you can, and I'm sure that everyone knows it."

Celestia laughed. "I thank you for the blind optimism, but we're not going to pass the inspection. I don't care how accurate Pinky can shoot a gun, or how fast Rachel can recite calculus. It's the Rat Team, and they're… well… here, let me show you."

Celestia swung around in her chair, and flipped on the closest monitor. Her fingers skid smoothly across the keys, only occasionally faltering before correcting themselves yet again. In a flash, three images appeared on the screen, one atop of another. Celestia pointed at the top image. Tara saw a man, elderly yet still gruff, gray hair neatly trimmed. His face had once had great structure, but had sagged away over the years. His eyes were squinted, always judging whatever they saw.

"That man right there is Scotchingson Hue," Celestia stated. "Brutally efficient, mathematically brilliant, and stern. Back in the day, there were rumors that he actually had a heart. He's sold out pretty much all who were close to him, and managed to rise through the ranks thanks to him playing the entire United States banking system."

Underneath the image of Hue was another man. He was bloated in the face, cheeks puffed out and red like beets. His bald head glistened in the bright light, and his eyes stared wide at the camera. From just a single glance, Tara could sense the man's ever-growing anxiety.

"This man is V.A. Price Jr. He's Hue's most valuable assistant. He's brash, rude, a stickler for details, and a clean freak. Also, from what I've heard, he's quite racist, so take that as you will. He's a cowardly, womanizing rodent who likes to show his authority over people, and takes pleasures in their discomfort."

At the bottom of the screen was an image of a woman, who perhaps was the most frightening of all. Despite her rather normal brunette hair and smooth cheeks, her eyes were a bizarre shade of red

"And this is their secretary," Celestia sighed. "Veronica Starleston. Genius woman. She's probably the smartest out of all three of them. Supposedly, she was the one who guided them through the ranks of government, taking them from office workers to inside men to kings of the government. She's a pain in the ass to deal with."

"These are the people you take orders from?" Rachel asked in shock. "You actually have to obey these people?"

"Pretty much," Celestia sighed. "But they're usually right about things, unfortunately, so we keep following them."

"I hate to say it, but…" Rachel cleared her throat nervously. "Your government needs to work out some issues. I mean, I'm not an expert on the subject matter, but this might in fact be the worst way to control any major operation in all of history. No offense."

"I've been saying that for over a decade," Dash agreed. "I try telling everyone that freaky shit goes on the White House, and I'm instantly branded as a conspiracy theorist. I hate our country. Fucking bullshit."

"Dash, calm yourself," Tara ordered. She turned to her superior. "Look, it doesn't matter what those guys are like. If we need to prove ourselves to them, then we'll just have to do it."

"Right," Fiona hastily agreed. "I'm sure that deep down, they are reasonable people."

"I can't do anything but wish you girls luck," Celestia stated somberly. "The best advice I can give is to train your asses off, be on your best behavior, and pray to God that AJ gets back here by tomorrow. The probability of this actually working is ridiculously slim, but if you try hard enough, maybe you can at least—"

Celestia paused, and stared at the screen in front of her. A red light flashed on the monitor, containing text too small for Tara to read.

"That's weird," Celestia said.

"What's going on?" asked Tara, confused.

"It appears there's been an explosion at WMH Headquarters," said the chairwoman. "Police are rushing onto the scene now. Practically every cop and firefighter in the city is there."

"Aaaaaaaaaand… what's the problem?" Dash asked. Celestia typed something in the keyboard, and another window popped up in the computer.

"Well, here's the thing," she said worriedly. "After your little 'mishap' with McCarther, we made a secret deal with Brian Hammonick. We thought it would be both in our best interests to keep the data on his fuel safe and secure, so we balanced it out between two separate servers. One of the servers is at WMH, and the other is located in the Willington Tower downtown. That way, if one of the servers came under threat in any way, the other would receive all of its data, and keep it stored. We've done this plenty of times before. In fact, there has to be at least ten servers in Willington Tower containing top-secret information."

"Is that legal?"

"Maybe. Anyway, that explosion at WMH Headquarters should have been enough to trigger a data transfer. But, according to our monitoring system, nothing like that is taking place. Our server isn't recovering that necessary information. Now why the hell is it doing that..."

"Maybe it's just experiencing a glitch?" Rachel suggested hopefully.

"Or maybe…" Tara said suddenly, her eyes wide. "The server can't receive the data because something, or someone, broke into it already."

Celestia paused for a moment, considering this. Even though her judgment was starting to get clouded, she still tried her best to put two and two together. "But that would mean that both systems were shut down nearly simultaneously, as if someone meant to do it. But the only reason they would do that is to release the information out into the open, and no one would ever try to do that unless they knew what the servers—"

Celestia froze in panic. She clenched her fist tightly, and stared down at the floor.

"Get to Willington Tower. Now!" she screamed. "We're being robbed right under our noses!"

"Wait, go now!?" Tara responded. "We can't go out there! Get the police to help!"

"The police are out of the question!" Celestia stated angrily. "Besides, they won't be able to make it in time. Every second we waste, more valuable data is lost. You need to stop that thief as fast as you can!"

Every girl but Tara jolted to life, and took off towards the main entrance. However, their leader remained, still unsure what to do.

"We can't go on a mission now," she stated. "We're too tired out, and too unfocused. And on top of that, AJ's still missing, and we have an inspection looming over our heads that we need to prepare for! We're not supposed to go on any missions if we're shut down!"

"You're not fucking shut down yet!" Celestia said forcefully, pointing towards the door. "I'll think of some excuse for you. All you need to focus on right now is stopping that thief! I'm counting on you, Sullivan, so don't you dare fail me now!"

Tara remained still. She had come too far to back down, hadn't she? It wasn't in her nature to give up without putting up a fight. Right now, someone needed her help, and it was her duty to make sure that she did her job right. She couldn't fail now, not when the situation was most grim. It didn't matter that her best agent was missing, or that her friends were drastically unequipped, or that she would probably get severely punished for disobeying a direct federal order. Tara would not be a failure to her team.

Not anymore.

Tara, with a look of determination on her face, nodded in approval, and then dashed off down the corridors. She didn't even bother to stop by the training room to acquire weapons. She had such an adrenaline rush that such a thought had never even occurred to her. In less than a minute, she burst through the doors of the Chinese restaurant, and found her friends standing by their mode of transport: a shiny, fire-red, brand new, five-seat convertible. Fiona greeted her friend by thrusting her sword directly into Tara's arms.

"I picked this up for you on the way out," she stated. Tara thanked Fiona with a nod, and then turned to the rest of the group.

"Come on, girls. Get in the car," Tara ordered loudly. At once, her teammates began to pile into the vehicle.

"Whoo! It's time to kick some ass!" Dash declared, opening the back door of the car. However, Tara placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Dash," Tara said confidently. "Not today. You're driving."

"Seriously?" Dash asked in wonder. "You want me, a person who you know to be extremely reckless behind the wheel of a car, to drive everybody."

"Yes, I do," Tara said. "I have faith in you. Don't let me down."

Immediately, Dash jumped for joy, thrusting her fist into the air. A second later, she appeared inside of the car, clutching the wheel tightly. Tara joined her in the passenger seat, as the other three waited anxiously in the back, fearful for their lives.

"Oh, Dash, one more thing…" Tara said, smiling. "Drive fast."

"Oh, baby," Dash replied with a smirk. "Now you're speaking my language."

__________

Willington Tower was a location that not a single citizen of Philadelphia cared about. As far as the average person knew, Willington Tower was as office building built in the eighties that differed in no way from any other office building. Not a single person was ever known to have worked there, but given the daily lives of the average citizen, no one noticed this strange little fact. It may have towered above all else around it, but Willington Tower was simply someplace that was forever lost in the conscious of the people.

So, when a white van pulled up to the building late one March day, no one noticed. When several people started carrying canisters into the complex, no one noticed. When people began to break into the ventilation system, no one noticed. After all, in the mind of the average Philadelphia citizen, this must have been what people did at Willington Tower. And so the citizens of Philadelphia carried on with their daily lives, entirely unaware that one of the greatest heists in history was happening at Willington Tower.

__________

Tara was rather thankful for the fact that the car had a navigation system, for she was so disoriented that she couldn't keep a track of her whereabouts. Perhaps putting Dash in charge as the driver was a poor decision, as no matter how much more she was liked the rainbow-haired youth, none of it would matter if she were to crash into a building on the way to Willington Tower. As it was now, Tara was pushed as far back into her seat as possible as she was lead down the tight city streets at nearly sixty miles per hour. In the back, Rachel was bracing herself for a sudden impact, Fiona was silently praying to a god in whom she had doubted to exist for many years, and Pinky smiled normally as if she were waiting for a batch of cookies to come bursting out of the oven.

"Almost there, guys!" Dash shouted, taking a tight turn to her left. Tara's knuckles were turning white from gripping her sword too tightly, not wanting it to accidently maim one of her friends.

"For the last time, please slow down!" Tara begged.

"You wanted fast, Spark," Dash laughed. "Live a little!"

"Are we all going to die?" Rachel asked, genuinely concerned. "It feels like we're tumbling down a mountain."

"Keep calm and carry on, my foreign compatriot!" Dash replied. "Willington is right up ahead."

With a jolt, the car came to a sudden stop. The momentum carried the girls forward, slamming several heads into the backs of seats. They had arrived at the parking lot of Willington Tower, which showed surprising activity for an abandoned location. Tara clutched her chest, breathing heavily and feeling very thankful that she was still alive.

"That wasn't cool," she scolded. However, Dash paid no mind to her, exiting the car and walking to the trunk. Tara regained her composure, and then followed her outside. "Hey, are you listening to me? Just because I said fast doesn't mean you can drive that recklessly. You could have… are those the guns you managed to grab from Camelot?"

Dash smirked as she pulled out a light machine gun from the trunk. "Hey, you never know when some asshole is gonna fire back at you. It's good to be prepared."

"I'm not debating that," Tara said, startled. "I just… didn't think you would bring so many. You and Pinky are still the only ones who care going to use them."

"It's good to be fucking prepared," Dash restated. She tossed two pistols to Pinky just as she was getting out of the car, which the blonde caught with some difficulty. After everyone had gotten themselves situated, Tara began running over the plan.

"Dash, Pinky, you two will be our frontal assault unit. Clear out each room you come across, and don't take any chances. Keep moving upwards. Use the stairs; last thing we need is for something to take out the power and get you two stuck. Fiona, you and Rachel are going to scrounge around back, look for any other way into the building. In case you run into trouble, retreat back into the main hall, and find the others. I'll be checking around the parking lot here, maybe try to find the getaway vehicle. Everyone keep their cellphones on conference, and be careful. Whoever came in here was using explosives. Good luck."

Tara walked to the parking lot with one hand on her sword. She scanned her surroundings closely. Five cars were present, but seemed to strike out from the rest. Not only was it noticeably larger and less cleanly, it was also clearly missing a front license plate. Tara walked towards the vehicle with caution.

"Fuck, the door's locked," Dash sighed over the phone. "Spark, should I shoot it open?"

"No way," Tara answered. "Last thing we need is to get detected."

"Don't worry. I got it," Pinky said. Tara could hear a clicking noise in the background, and continued on her way. She came to the van, and examined it thoroughly. The paint was old and chipped, revealing the rusted metal beneath. The tires were covered with a light coating of mud, and the back door had been left ajar, possibly because of a broken lock. Naturally, Tara walked to the open door, and took out her sword, prepping for the worst.

"Girls, I'm about to check something out here," she said. "If I don't say anything, or you hear me struggling, come to my location."

"Can do," Fiona responded.

"Hey, guys, there are corpses in here," Pinky muttered. "Three of them. They look… fresh."

Tara pulled open the door, and instinctively shoved the blade into the back of the van. However, as she had hoped, the van itself was empty.

"Clear," she said with a sigh of relief.

"Weird… these bodies don't have any wounds," Pinky said.

"They're dead," said Dash. "They have to be damaged somehow."

"Be careful," Tara warned, climbing into the van. She looked around hoping to find any sort of clue, but located nothing.

"Man, I'm getting a headache," Dash moaned. "Search faster, curls."

"I swear, these dudes are completely untouched! Look at 'em yourself!"

"Tara, we're around the other side," Fiona whispered, not wanting to raise her voice. "No back entrances. There is an open window on the fifth floor, though."

"Anything else?"

"Uh… no. Not that I can see."

"Hey, Tara, quick question," Rachel spoke. "Why did you send the blind girl to search for alternate entrances to the building? You do know I have other talents that would be much more useful in this situation."

"Ugh… stop complaining, bitch," Dash moaned. "Jesus Christ, my head is on fire."

"What did you call me?"

"A… a… shit, my head. What the fuck is going on?"

"Dash, are you okay?" Tara asked. She received no response. "Pinky, does she look okay to you?"

"Uh, I can't tell," Pinky answered. "Everything's kinda blurry."

"Hey, Tara," Fiona interrupted. "I found something back here: A big vent and a bunch of silver canisters."

Tara hopped out of the vehicle, and began walking towards the building.

"Do the canisters say anything?"

"No," Fiona said. "But they're all tied together. Like they're all pumping into one hose. And the hose looks like it goes through—"

"Shit!" Rachel shouted, suddenly realizing something terrible. "Tara, get them out of that building now!"

The loud increase in volume shocked Tara to life. She sprinted towards the main entrance, and peered through the glass doors. In horror, she discovered Dash lying on the floor, and Pinky leaning against the wall, slowly succumbing to slumber. Tara, thinking quickly on her feet, flung open the door, and stuck out her palms. Her veins resonated a deep violet color, and in an instant, Dash and Pinky sailed towards her. They dropped to the ground right in front of her feet, and Tara forcibly dragged them outside into the parking lot. Fiona and Rachel came running back to the entrance in a fright. Pinky coughed violently, while Tara bent over to check Dash's pulse.

"What the hell is going on?" Tara asked, clearly panicked.

"They must have flushed out the whole bottom floor with carbon monoxide," Rachel stated. "That hall must be festering with it after so long. Given the large amount of canisters, I'd say nearly ten thousand parts per million of CO in that room. Five minutes in there, and you die instantly."

"Is she okay?" Fiona asked.

"Shit, she's not breathing," Tara cursed, bending down to hear Dash's heartbeat. "Rachel, what do we do? She's dying."

"Getting her outside was good," Rachel stated. "Right now, she needs a lot of oxygen. It could take a few minutes to get her enough, not unless we—"

However, Rachel couldn't finish her words, as Tara shoved her aside, positioned herself over Dash's form, and began to breathe into her. Tara was by no means an expert at rescue breathing, but she had read quite a bit about the technique, and was certain that she could at least help. It never struck her mind that this was the second time she had "kissed" another woman, or that her method was technically outdated, or that Dash would probably be fine regardless. At that moment, all that mattered to her was saving her friend's life.

Much to Tara's relief, Dash came back to life beneath her within the next minute, allowing her to back away from the incident. Dash gasped heavily for breath, before rolling over to her side, and coughing wildly. She moaned painfully, and flipped herself onto her back once more.

"Oh man, I feel terrible," Dash muttered, staring at the ceiling.

"Thank God, you're alive," Tara said happily. "You were unconscious for a while there."

"What happened?"

"Acute carbon monoxide poisoning," Rachel stated calmly, acting very professionally. "You were out in under two minutes. Pinky nearly was, as well."

"I'm fine, by the way," Pinky groaned in frustration. Dash sighed, and then licked her lips. Something was slightly off about their taste. It took her a moment to come up with a proper response.

"Did one of you kiss me?" she asked, curiously. Tara blushed at once.

"Look, you weren't breathing," Tara said in defense. "It was rescue breathing. They teach you it in middle school. It helped save your life. Besides, I would have done it for any of you." Tara paused a moment, blushing further. "That might have come out wrong."

Dash laid on the ground, considering this information carefully. Then, as if entirely alright, she hopped to her feet, and stretched out her arms.

"Well, we're not getting in the front," she said. "Unless you can turn off the gas."

"It doesn't matter now," Rachel sighed. "With that much CO in there, it would take an hour just to clear it all out."

"Can't we just wait down here for the thief to come down?"

"They might not be planning to leave this way," Tara suggested. "Who knows; if they're really going after valuable government information, they might have a helicopter waiting for them, especially since they have all this carnage down here to deal with."

"So, how do we get up there?" Pinky asked. "Ooh, I can run through the halls really, really fast, and get away from all of the bad poison and stuff."

"Actually, I have an idea," Tara stated. "Fiona, show me that open window at the back."

"Sure," Fiona shrugged, leading the group towards the opposite side of the building. However, Tara stopped short as someone lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Spark, one last thing…"

Smack

A bare palm unceremoniously collided with the side of Tara's skull, causing the brunette to clutch her head in pain.

"Don't you ever fucking kiss me again," Dash said harshly. "If I'm going to have a bi-curious experience, I'm at least going to have it with someone attractive." Dash walked by, not caring about any pain she caused. Behind her, Tara angrily muttered under her breath:

"You're welcome."

Aside from the canisters of poisonous gas, nothing else was interesting about the back of the tower. Tara gazed up at the open window, a fourth of the way up the building. It wasn't open by much, just a sliver of empty space where one might barely squeeze through. She had no idea what lay on the other side of it, but hoped that it led to a place without any more deadly gas.

"Fiona, do you think you can check out that window?" Tara asked.

"I can try," Fiona stated, removing her green jacket and tossing it to the ground. Her wings burst forth from her back as if on springs. Fiona winced in pain, remembering that her back was still cut badly. She took a deep breath, and then took off towards the sky, coming to a stop just beneath the window. Carefully, she fluttered up to the opening, and peered inside. She returned to the ground as quietly as she could.

"No one's inside," she claimed. "It's just a straight path leading to an elevator and a few doors."

"Perfect," Tara said. "Do you still think you could carry us up there?"

"I think so," Fiona said, holding out her hand. Tara took it gladly, and before she knew it, she was flying through the air. Fiona's grip seemed sturdy enough, as she was now holding on with both hands. However, Tara, at some point during the flight, came to the realization that she had a fear of heights. It was a deep-seeded, completely irrational fear that stemmed from an unfortunate ladder incident when she was six, which she preferred not to think about. She never talked about it for she was ashamed of having such a pathetic handicap. But as Fiona continued to rise higher in the sky, something in Tara's mind gave way, causing her to clutch Fiona with all of her strength.

"Ow. You're nails are digging into my skin," Fiona said. Tara snapped out of her fear-induced trance at the sound of her friend's voice, and loosened her grip.

"Sorry," she said hastily.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm good, just… hurry up, will you?"

"We're here." Tara stopped looking down at the ground, and finally rotated her head upwards to see that she was even with the open window. Inside, she saw a hallway which looked like it belonged in an office building rather than a secret government hideout. Tara looked at Fiona nervously.

"Okay," she said. "I'm going to reach out, and pull that thing off. Don't you dare drop me."

"I'll be extra careful," Fiona reassured. Tara took a deep breath, and, trying not to look down, reached out towards the window several feet away. Using her powers, she carefully wiggled the glass structure free from its containment, and then gently lowered it to the ground. Then, as silent as a mouse, Tara motioned Fiona forward, and used the opportunity to grab onto the ledge, pulling herself inside.

"The coast is clear. Bring them up," Tara instructed. Fiona nodded, and then, one-by-one, brought the other P.O.N.Y's into the building. Rachel was last, with Fiona directly carrying her inside.

"Well, this place doesn't smell poisonous," Dash commented.

"We should be fine," said Rachel. "Even if the gas was being pumped into the entire building, we're getting plenty of oxygen from that open window. Besides, I doubt that they had enough cans of carbon monoxide to fill this whole building up anyway."

"What's the plan now?" asked Dash.

"Same as it was before," Tara stated. "We just have a different starting point. We keep moving as always. Although, we'll probably need to find a directory in order to locate the servers—"

"Got one!" Pinky shouted, before thrusting a thick sheet of paper in front of Tara's face. Tara eyed the map with much confusion.

"How did you—"

"It was lying on the security desk, so I just shoved it into my pocket," Pinky admitted. "That's not stealing, is it? 'Cuz no one else was gonna use it."

"Not important," Tara stated, studying the map closely. "Hmm… it seems like we're in the right wing on the fifth floor. There's a marking here that says the servers are located on the top three floors. The only way to get to them is using an executive elevator on floor fifteen."

"Oh great. Stairs," Rachel groaned. "I'm guessing we still can't use the lift, right?"

Tara remained silent.

"Fine," the Brit groaned. "Climbing it is. My favorite."

__________

"Can't believe that mothafucka took away our weed for this," Anwar complained.

"Shut your mouth, nigga," Jerome said angrily. "Seriously, we're on super top-secret shit right now. This ain't the time to get high."

The fifteenth floor lobby was too nice for a building that was so underused. Not only was it incredibly large, with enough space to fit well over two hundred people, but the floor was made of marble, and the walls remained glossy and polished no matter how much grime was spread. The lobby broke off into two wide paths on opposite sides. In the center of the room was a black executive elevator, which ascended high into the ceiling. Near the back of this room was a set of couches used for a waiting area, and this was where Jerome and Anwar had seated themselves.

"Shit, I miss Jordan," Anwar said.

"Jordan? What the fuck you mean 'Jordan'? Jordan was a punk-ass little bitch. That racist motherfucker was bad business, man."

"But he packed the best stuff. You remember that shit he used to cook up? 'Hercules Strength'? That was the best thing I've had in decades, man."

"You know what? I made up my mind. After we finish doin' this shit, I'm givin' up weed. Shit's bad for your health."

"You're goin' straight? Wow, I never thought I'd see the day that this nigga went clean."

"An' you know what else? I'm cleaning up my act, too. I'm going back to college, get a math degree, or some shit. I used to be pretty damn good at trigonometry."

"I fucking bet you were."

"I was. An' that ain't all. Pretty soon, I—" Jerome paused. He held up his hand, asking for complete silence. Something seemed off to him. He didn't know why, but something was different about the lobby. Suddenly, he heard footsteps rapidly approaching from the right wing. A shadow danced across the wall. He already knew that his boss was upstairs, so that could only mean one thing.

"Cops!" Jerome yelled in panic, firing his pistol towards the right wing in a frenzy. He grabbed Anwar and pulled him down behind the couch as fast as he could.

"Son of a bitch!" Anwar cried.

"Shoot back, you idiot!" Jerome cried, blind-firing over the couch. Whatever was coming from the right wing stopped to take cover, and didn't appear to be firing back.

"We got to hold them off," Anwar said, peering over the couch. He saw nothing, which worried him ever so.

"Stay down, fool," Jerome whispered loudly. The firing ceased; neither side dared to move. "Look sometime soon, one of these mothafuckas are gonna come out firing. When they do, I'll burst out'a cover and cap 'em. But, you have to provide some covering fire, or my ass is dead."

"Nigga, do you even realize who you're talking to?" Anwar asked with a smirk. "I always got your back, man. I never fuck up."

"Thanks, my nigga," Jerome smiled. He waited patiently. He thought he could hear whispering from far away. It wouldn't be long now. Any moment, someone would try to move to the elevator, taking shots along the way. But he knew how to handle such a situation, and had done so many times in the past. Suddenly, he heard the rapid movement of footsteps racing to the elevator. Now was the moment to shine. Jerome jumped out of cover, and aimed his pistol down the lobby.

In an instant, Jerome froze, as he locked eyes with a very familiar rainbow-haired teenager.

"Oh, fuck this shit!" Jerome screamed in terror, dropping his gun to the floor. He immediately tried to turn and run, but did not get very far. Dash suddenly appeared next to him, and brutally slammed his head into the ground. Anwar had little time to react before Dash kneed him in the face, knocking him unconscious. Jerome rolled around in agony, holding his broken nose, as Dash stood over him triumphantly.

"Well, this is a surprise," Dash said, honestly amused. "I never thought I'd see you guys again. What happened to that other guy you were with?"

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" Jerome screamed.

"Dash, do you know these people?" Tara asked, coming out of cover.

"Sort of," Dash replied. "We've had a few run-ins before. It seems like you lose more and more friends each time we run into each other."

"You have whole army of psychos now!?" Jerome shouted in fear. "Look, lady, I'll do whatever you want. I just don't want to ever see you again!"

"Tempting offer," Das stated, picking up Jerome by the head, before brutally slamming it back down onto the cold floor.

"Leave him alone," Fiona interjected. "He's not a threat anymore."

"Don't act all uptight on me, Fiona," Dash sneered. "I'm actually starting to like you now, so don't fuck it all up."

"Release him. Now," Tara ordered. Dash sighed, and dropped Jerome to the floor. He spat out his own blood on the marble, whimpering in pain.

"So… who are you working for?" Dash asked calmly.

"This guy, alright?" Jerome said without any hesitation. "Weird fucking guy; promised a lot of money."

"Let me guess… he didn't have a face?" Dash asked in annoyance.

"How… how did you know?"

"Shit," she swore under her breath. The group was equally frustrated. No matter how hard they tried, they seemed to keep getting involved with the last person they wanted to be involved in.

"Well, now what?" Rachel asked. "The Unknown is here. We know we can't beat him, and we can't call in for backup."

"We go after him regardless," Tara stated, earning some confused glances. "Look, if we're going to be shut down by tomorrow night, I don't want to spend my last day as a failure. I say, we go after him. He's never faced all of us at once before; if we can figure out a way to beat him, we might even save the operation. I'm sure we can do it. I…" Tara quickly glanced at Fiona. "…have faith in our abilities."

"Well, we can't really go back anyhow," Dash groaned. "Thanks for the help, you lower-class stoner. You always seem to arrive just when we fucking need you."

"You gonna leave me alone, now?" Jerome asked, hoping to garner pity. Dash looked up to Tara, searching for an answer. Tara herself was not in the mood for deciding upon such a petty thing. She had far more important matters to attend to, after all.

"Let 'em go," Tara said with a shrug. "I don't think they'll be much of a threat."

"Damn straight," Jerome said. "I don't want anything to do with you people."

Dash sighed, and with a final kick to the ribs, left Jerome alone. The girls walked towards the executive elevator, gaping at its enormity.

"They're going to sense us coming from a mile away," Fiona said fearfully. They have to know that this is the only way up."

"Spark, you got something?" Dash asked.

"Uh… possibly," Tara replied. "I think I might have an idea on how to get up there. But… it might kill me."

"Kill you? Please, don't do something really dangerous," Fiona begged.

"Well, I could be totally fine. I've never tried something like this before. Hold on for a second."

Tara took a deep breath, and then shot out her arms towards the ceiling. She closed her eyes, concentrating on a single image of the elevator descending to the ground. A loud grinding noise became apparent, slowly filling up the room. Tara tried her best not to let that elevate her spirit. She refused to focus on anything else except for moving the several-ton elevator. Her ears began to ring, and a throbbing began to take place in her mind.

"Spark, could you speed it up at all? It's moving, like, two fucking inches."

"Shut up, Dash," Tara scolded. "You can try manipulating the magnetic field around a four thousand pound elevator."

The grinding grew ever louder, but she couldn't tell how much progress she was making. She thought she felt someone's hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it away. It wasn't until she heard a loud slam that she allowed herself to open her eyes, and collapse to her knees. At once, Fiona was by her side.

"Are you—"

"Yes, I'm fine," Tara said quickly. "Is it down?"

"Yeah. But you shouldn't do things like that. You'll hurt yourself."

"Also," said Dash. "How are we supposed to get back up?"

"Well, I was planning to get on the elevator and lift it back up to the top," Tara admitted. "But I really don't feel well now."

"Don't worry," Fiona said. "I got it covered." Fiona led Tara into the elevator, which Dash and Pinky peeled open. Much to Tara's displeasure, she was soon floating in mid-air again, flying faster and faster towards the ceiling. She gulped, hoping to swallow her fears. This time, the flight was much quicker, as Tara guessed that Fiona was aware of her intense phobia. Tara looked out at the closed elevator doors of floor eighteen. They did not appear to be as heavy as the elevator itself, and, despite her horrid migraine, she believed it wouldn't be too difficult to open the doors.

"A bit closer," Tara stated with a sense of urgency.

"Don't hurt yourself," Fiona responded, carefully moving into place. It only took a minute for the doors to be pried open, and Tara would have pushed Fiona inside if she could, if only to get back on solid ground faster. Upon stabilizing her legs, Tara looked around at the interior of the room. Everything was surprisingly circular. The center of the room was completely open, with a simple star painted in the center. The servers were all lined up against the walls in perfect order, forming dark shadows against the maple-wood floor. The only relief from the darkness was the moonlight shining through a pain glass window on the back wall.

"Watch the chest," Tara heard Dash say snidely from behind. Before Dash could say anything else, however, Fiona was gliding back down the elevator shaft to pick up another teammate. "Man, that probably won't ever get comfortable."

"You said it."

"Jeez, you look shaky. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Tara said, taking deep breaths. "I'm cool now."

"Whoopee!" Pinky shouted in joy as she rose to the server room. Upon landing on her feet, her mood quickly diminished. "Huh? What kind of server room is this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, look at this place! I've never seen something so strangely organized in my life! It's… it's ridiculous!"

"You might be overreacting to this a little," Dash suggested.

"Overreacting?" Pinky said, quite offended. "I know my computers! No one would ever organize something like this unless they wanted someone to rob them. I mean, would you ever—"

"Both of you. Quiet," Tara ordered. The two friends instantly shut their mouths. "Look around for clues or something. Pinky, find out if these machines have been broken into. Dash, do the same on the other side of the room."

Pinky grumbled something unintelligible, and walked away. Dash simply expressed her feelings with a shrug. Fiona and Rachel rose up the elevator shaft shortly.

"This place looks pretty clean," said Fiona, walking over to Pinky.

"It doesn't look like anything's been tampered with," Pinky stated.

"I want to be sure," said Tara. "If that data is on this floor, then they would have needed to come down here."

"Spark, I'm pretty sure that we would notice if stuff had been completely blown up," Dash sighed. I mean, that was what Celestia said, right? The Unknown was blowing shit up?"

"Wait, if The Unknown was trying to destroy all of the servers," said Rachel, her hand placed on her chin. "Then why wouldn't this floor be damaged? Wouldn't any logical person start with the bottom, and move towards the top?"

"I don't know," Tara admitted. "Honestly, we don't know anything about this guy's methods other than the fact he likes insane people to do his work for him. The circumstances surrounding this attack aren't are concern. We just need to keep our guard up, and—"

Suddenly, Tara became silent. Something seemed different about the room. While the other four girls were looking at the large machines, something had changed. It felt as if a ghost had just floated by, casting a sense of dread over her head. What more, it felt like she was being watched from behind, a shadow glaring at her over her shoulder. At once, Tara realized that there was something standing there.

In a flash, Tara whipped out her sword from the sheathe on her back, and spun around, swing the katana towards the shadow. However, she was barely able to stop herself, as she instantly met a very familiar-looking hat.

"AJ!" Tara shouted, incredibly startled. "Dear god, you scared the life out of me." The other P.O.N.Y's turned at the sudden loud noise, and quickly noticed the extra presence in the room. AJ stood only a yard away from her field leader, standing absolutely still. Her eyes were hidden underneath her Stetson, and she wore an expressionless face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dash asked, confused. AJ did not respond.

"Thank goodness, you showed up when you did," Tara said, completely ignoring Dash. "Look, The Unknown's somewhere in the building. Now that you're here, we can—"

"Hold on a second," Dash interrupted. "How the hell did you get here? You go missing for two days, and now you just show up exactly where you are? That's… strange."

Tara looked at Dash accusingly. Why did her tone have to be so hateful? Was she unaware who she was talking to?

"Dash, you're being ridiculous," she stated. However, much to her surprise, AJ spoke up in a dull voice.

"Don't be upset," said the agent. "She's right. It's amazing how fast people can turn on you, even after you've trusted them your entire life."

Tara stared at AJ in wide-eyed confusion. Something seemed off about her dear friend. It wasn't just her posture, which was not at all confident and almost saddened in a way, but her clothes were peculiar as well. She was dressed entirely in black, specifically, and Tara was unsure if her friend had ever worn the color at all.

"Are you okay?" Tara asked, becoming slightly nervous.

"I'm fine now," AJ said simply. She momentarily looked around the room at the other girls staring her down. "Tara, I think you girls should leave this place. It's pretty dangerous."

"What? Why would we do that?" asked the leader. "The Unknown is here. Now that you're here, we can end this."

"It would be in your best interest to get out of here," AJ said once more. Rachel, in the back of the room, was starting to feel the adrenaline coarse through her veins. Fiona was becoming increasingly concerned with AJ's bizarre manner of speaking. Pinky began to walk around to the other side of the room, staring her friend down with watchful eyes.

"We're not leaving," Tara insisted. "This is the most important operation of our life. P.O.N.Y. will be shut down if we don't get this done."

"That doesn't matter," said AJ. "Just leave. Now. Before something bad happens."

Tara opened her mouth to say something, but was immediately shoved out of the way by Dash.

"What are you doing here?" Dash asked again. "Why did you show up here, after two days of being completely missing?"

"I'm here to help."

"Who are you helping?" Dash asked accusingly. "Us, or him?"

"Dash, what are you—"

"Shut it, Spark!"

"I'm here to help everyone," AJ said honestly.

"Bullshit," Dash practically screamed. "You're trying to keep us away from here for a reason."

"Dash, stop this," Tara begged. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Think about it, all of you," Dash said loudly. "She goes off the grid for two days. Two fucking days. And, when she comes back, she just happens to come back exactly where The Unknown is. Who knows what could have happened to her during that time? For all we know, she could be brainwashed or something."

"Brainwashed?" AJ asked dully. "I'm not brainwashed. Not anymore."

"And then," Dash said, pointing at AJ. "She starts saying weird shit like that! Listen to me. I think she's—"

Suddenly, without any warning, AJ grabbed onto Dash's hand, wrapped around her arm, and threw the rebellious youth across the room. Instinctively, Tara drew up her sword in defense. The girls took fighting stances, with the exceptions of Dash, who was clutching her damaged arm, and AJ, who continued to stand perfectly still, noticing that she was surrounded by her friends. Everything was still.

"AJ?" Tara asked softly, unable to believe her eyes. "Wha… why are you…"

"I'm sorry, Tara," AJ spoke, almost upset. "But this is something that needs to be done. After all the years of bein' lied to, bein' forced to waste my life for these people… this needs to end. Now, I'll ask you one more time… leave, before I have to do something I'm going to regret."

Tara could barely understand what was happening. Surely, she had to be missing some important detail. AJ was one of her closest friends, after all, so there could be no way that she would want to fight. And there was certainly no way that Tara wanted to fight someone that she cared about. From the looks of it, neither did her friends, who all seemed incredibly confused. Aside from Dash, who was simply glaring at AJ, no one else seemed intent on fighting (although Pinky did keep her hand nervously hovering over her gun).

"AJ, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you need to stop messing around," Tara begged. "If this is our idea of… of a joke or something, then just stop, because it's starting to really freak me out."

"I ain't jokin," AJ said, her voice sour. "It's not somethin' you'd understand. We were both fed lies by these monsters. I'm just the one who decided to do something about it."

"AJ, please stop acting like this," Tara said, becoming more and more distraught with each word.

"Spark, step back," Dash ordered, bringing up her arms in preparation. "There's no telling what she's going to do."

"Put your arms down," AJ said. "You don't want to fight me."

"Maybe I do."

"Everyone, calm down!" Fiona shouted. However, no one paid her any mind, as words were thrown about faster than ever.

"Look, I'm trying to save your lives."

"So you can fucking blow us all up in the future working for that son of a bitch?"

"You don't understand anything."

"He's been trying to kill us for months, and you betray us? I understand plenty."

"Both of you, stop fighting!"

"Shut it, Spark! Don't show this traitorous bitch any mercy."

"She's our friend!"

"Is she? Is she really? She's threatening us!"

"I just want you to get out of here before you get hurt."

"We're not leaving, AJ. We can't afford to just turn around. Especially not without you."

"Spark—"

"No, Dash! Be quiet for just one goddamn moment!"

Once more, everything was silent. Dash had not seen when Tara had begun to shed tears, and took only a basic assumption to assume why. AJ seemed like she would have been saddened under different circumstances, but as she was, she only stared at Tara with untrusting eyes.

"AJ, I… I really don't know why this is happening," Tara said softly. "But… I mean… you're still our friend, right? After everything we've been through together— you've saved all of our lives a bunch of times, and… well, we can't just leave now. Everything is riding on this mission. If we don't stop him, who knows how many people would be in danger? I know you care about people, and… and I know that you want to do the right thing, so… I mean… please, AJ. Start acting like yourself again, and help us."

AJ stood completely still, thinking over each word that Tara had said. Her friend's eyes were red and puffy, which, deep down, hurt quite a bit. She didn't bother looking around at the others' reactions; it wasn't something she wished to bear. After a few more moments of careful consideration, AJ bowed her head down, and let out a heavy sigh.

"I really did not want it to come to this," she said softly, beginning to unzip her black jacket. "I guess I can't make ya leave then. I tried my best, Tara. I hope you appreciate that."

AJ removed her jacket, and tossed it away, revealing her green top underneath. However, much more important than that, was that she also revealed the presence of two machetes strapped to the back of her waist.

"I just hope this doesn't hurt too much."

Tara felt heartbroken. This couldn't be happening to her. She wasn't about to fight her best friend to the death. She had to be experiencing some sort of terrible nightmare, for in no reality would something as twisted and cruel come to be. Yet, as AJ reached behind her back, and carefully gripped the handles of the twin swords, Tara finally came to terms with what she was about to do. Tara mournfully gripped her katana tighter in her hand, and prepared to attack.

Of course, this would have happened, if Pinky had not instantly grabbed onto her gun, and shot out her arm towards her former friend, her finger placed on the trigger.

However, AJ was ready. Faster than any of the girls thought possible, AJ yanked out one of the swords, spun around on a dime, and threw the blade at Pinky's hand. In one sharp motion, the blade pierced through the blonde's hand, forcing her to drop her weapon, and pinned her to the wall. Pinky let out a scream of pain, as AJ yanked out the other blade from its latch. The girls' expressions shifted at once from sorrow to extreme shock, as they saw the blood ooze out of Pinky's right hand.

Dash barely wasted a moment, however. With a great boost of speed, she launched herself forward, propelling her fist square into AJ's jaw. The attack caught her off-guard, and AJ was knocked off her feet instantly. Yet she did not lie on her back for a single second, as she used her momentum to spring herself back to her feet. Dash attacked yet again, the only one of her friends to show no true hesitation. The sole thought if betrayal willed her every punch, forced her every kick, motivated her not to stop until the traitor had been brought down. Her movements seemed too fast to keep up with, but AJ was quite capable. A series of flashes were all that could be detected by the others. Dash threw a punch, AJ blocked with an elbow. AJ thrust the hilt of her blade, Dash stepped away. A back and forth struggle that lasted for an eternity distracted all other thoughts in the room.

Soon, it became clear that the fight would end. Dash needed her tremendous speed to stand a chance against the vastly more-skilled AJ, but her stamina was draining quickly. The power behind each strike diminished, and she became less and less capable of fighting back. At one point, Dash caught a nasty punch to the chin, causing her to recoil briefly. She spat blood out of her mouth, but forced herself to continue fighting. However, AJ had closed the distance between them, and wrapped her hands around Dash's head. She forcefully brought up a knee into her former friend's gut, and pushed her away.

However, a moment like this was what Rachel had been waiting for. As she watched the colors dancing about before her, she studied their movements closely, anticipating one of them to weaken. At once, she recognized that Fiona and Tara were still too fearful to jump into the fray, and Pinky was desperately trying to remove the blade from her hand, which had broken through the bone with ease. She would have to be the one to end it, she realized. With AJ grappling Dash, Rachel ducked to the ground, and sprinted as fast as she could to the other side of the room. The plan was simple: with her back turned, a swift, well-placed kick to the back of the knee would be crippling. At the very least, it would be able to disable her long enough for them to bring her back to Camelot, and figure out what was wrong with her.

Unfortunately, as Rachel slid into AJ's legs, the soldier had the foresight to jump. The attempt at a surprise attack was so obvious that AJ was amazed it had not happened sooner. Rachel saw a burst of violet flash before her eyes, and was just able to retract her leg before a boot crashed into the floor. She rolled to her feet, watching as a string of blue flew across her shoulder. She leaned back to dodge the incoming blade, feeling the air shift above her head.

AJ began attacking more violently. She swapped back and forth between her two opponents after every hit, keeping them both in guard. Rachel could never gain the offensive, as Dash would constantly retreat to catch her breath, and then jump back after an opportunity had passed by. AJ, growing frustrated, grabbed onto Dash's arm, and sharply bent it around, using kicks to fend off the Brit from attacking. In one motion, she swung Dash at her former friend. Rachel, sensing the attack, caught Dash as she passed by, and used her momentum to cast her away. Unfortunately, this distracted her just long enough for AJ to deliver a swift kick to the jaw. This allowed the more experienced warrior to easily grab Rachel's head with one hand, her leg with another, and promptly crush her already-damaged back to the ground.

AJ pressed Rachel's head into the ground for several seconds. However, she felt a presence behind her. Spinning around, she held up her lone blade, connecting with Tara's sword. The two became locked, pushing against one another with equal force.

"How could you do this!?" Tara shouted, still crushed by disbelief. "We're a team!"

"We still are!"

"Are we? Are we! Then why did you betray us! What about Mac, huh? What would he think about this!?"

"Don't talk about those people like they deserve respect!" AJ spat, groaning as she fought back.

"Wha—"

"Do you really know anything about those people? Honestly, can you say one thing they never lied to us about?"

"They haven't lied to us!"

"Why don't you ask them!? Ask them about the MACER Device! Ask them about how it was really made! Ask them about what really happened to my family!"

"You're family!?" Tara shouted, entirely confused. "What are you—"

AJ had enough. With a scream, she kneed Tara in the stomach, knocking the air out of her lungs. AJ struck Tara's spine with her elbow. Tara fell to her knees, her arms shaking. AJ drew back her leg, preparing to kick her downed foe, but was quite violently tackled to the ground. Her machete clanged as it slid against the ground. As she recovered, she noticed that two knees had pinned her arms to the ground, and someone was hovering over her.

AJ could honestly say that she had never seen a more terrifying sight. Fiona's face was expressionless, absolutely calm, but her eyes told another story. Behind Fiona's green eyes was an unspeakable rage that struck something fearful in AJ's mind. She might have suspected that behind that Fiona had some ferocity looming deep within, given what she knew. However, what she did not expect was that ferocity's ability to hit as hard as she did.

"Don't."

Fiona landed another hit on AJ's jaw.

"Ever."

AJ attempted to roll herself over, but found that she couldn't free her arms.

"Touch."

AJ's head started to spin. She tasted blood in her mouth.

"Her."

AJ reached for her weapon, but it was several yards away. She was entirely defenseless.

"Again!"

Fiona began to mercilessly beat on her opponent. Her eyes had become cold, uncaring. Any restrictions she had were long gone. All she saw before her eyes was someone who hurt the person she cared about. That person was betrayed everyone she knew about. That person did not deserve mercy, or compassion. That person was the enemy. That person deserved to suffer. That person deserved something so unspeakable that she felt personally ashamed that she would not be able to perform it. For some reason, she felt like she shouldn't be enjoying feeling that person's flesh soften underneath her fist. There was an estranged thought that suggested maybe, just maybe, she was supposed to be displaying kindness, and she did not normally act like this. But that thought seemed insane, because feeling her fists moist with someone else's blood felt so good.

"Fiona, let go of her!"

Before Fiona knew what was happening, she felt someone drag her away from the chaos. Fiona attempted to fight back, before she realized that Tara was the one holding on to her.

"What is wrong with you?" Tara asked, practically horrified.

"I… she…" Fiona found it suddenly near impossible to explain her actions. How was she supposed to transcribe how she felt mere moments before? How would Tara react to something like that? Better yet, why had she even felt like that in the first place? Seeing AJ lying stunned on the ground, her face covered with blood, suddenly made her realize what she had just done.

Did I just do that? Fiona couldn't help but think.

"It's over, Fiona," Tara begged. "Just… calm down, alright?"

"R-right," Fiona stuttered out, barely able to contain her fear. Suddenly, Pinky screamed, as she finally tore the blade out of her hand. She held it closely to her chest, sniffling back her tears.

"Jeez, AJ," she muttered underneath her breath. Slowly, she picked up her gun, and somberly, pointed it at AJ. Rachel held her hip as she shakily rose off of the floor. Dash spit out blood.

"That… that sucked," she moaned. "AJ, you may have turned into a psychotic bitch, but you can throw a fucking punch."

"I feel like my spine is shattered," said Rachel. "And that knock to my head screwed up this extra sense. Everything just looks white."

"We'll figure that out later," Tara stated. She couldn't take her eyes off of AJ's bloody form. AJ stared right back, her face a mixture of hate and pity. "Right now, The Unknown is still up there, and we need to take him down."

"So what do we do with her?" Pinky asked. "Should I keep watch on her?"

"Uh… sure, fine," Tara said, brushing her bangs out of her face. "I just need a minute."

"Okay," Pinky muttered. "I'll keep a close eye. Just try to let me know if you—"

SLAM

Pinky never expected to be grabbed from behind, and have the back of her head slammed into the server viciously. Her gun clattered to the floor once again, as The Unknown zoomed past, and ran straight in Tara's direction. She had no time to react before she was punched thrice in the stomach, and aggressively thrown to the elevator.

Tara clutched her head. The room was spinning around her. In a blur, she could make out her friends being attacked. They tried as hard as they could to fight back, but one-by-one, they were sent to the floor. She saw Dash charge head on, only to be met with a boot to the face. She saw Rachel struggle to find out just where the enemy was, only to be easily brushed aside. She saw Fiona try to keep her distance, only to become distracted by the growing body count, and be forced to the ground.

Every single part of her mind willed Tara to get up, but her body simply refused. She knew that she needed to help, but it just wasn't possible anymore. She thought about using her powers, but the splitting headache persuaded her otherwise. Still, she tried to push herself to her feet, collapsing back to the floor each and every time. She clumsily reached around for something, anything to help her ascend.

Suddenly, she found something: a gun. The Unknown was standing only a few yards away, walking over to AJ. None of her friends were nearby. This was her chance. All it would take is a single shot to end everything. She felt like she could aim steady enough to get the job done. One shot to end a lifetime of misery. Carefully, Tar raised the gun, and aimed it at The Unknown's back. She heard a click as she cocked the weapon, focusing all of her efforts on keeping her aim true. Very slowly, Tara reached for the trigger.

And then, Tara froze. Images began to race through her mind. Bodies lying on the floor in pools of blood. Teenagers begging for their lives. Armed men standing all around her, killing everyone in sight. She envisioned them everywhere, staring her down from every angle, judging, waiting, hating. Her breaths became more rapid. Her temples throbbed. Her heart pounded against her ears. She couldn't believe it. After all she had experienced, it still frightened her. It had been festering in her mind all these months, buried deep in her subconscious. The truth hit her hard, and made her feel weak in her stomach.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't pull the trigger.

Horrified at her own inaction, Tara lowered the gun, and watched as AJ was helped to her feet.

"Are you alright?" asked The Unknown.

"Yeah… I'm fine," AJ said, almost ashamed. She wiped the blood from her chin, and stared at the floor.

"You did well," he responded, as if reading her mind.

"What are we gonna do with 'em? We can't kill 'em."

"Why not? Have you forgotten? The nuclear missiles from Vitrumia, the oil facilities… most everyone in the world will end up dead. Why not them?"

"Please, don't kill them," AJ begged. "They're my friends… or at least they used to be." The Unknown considered this for a moment.

"Hmm. I think I can fix that. Dealing with disobedience is my specialty. On your left."

AJ immediately ducked, dodging Dash's elbow, causing the rebellious youth to groan in frustration.

"Just die already, you piece of shit!" she yelled, clasping her fists together over her head. In a flash, The Unknown grabbed onto her hands, and punched her three times in the shoulder, chest, and abdomen. Dash halted in her tracks, and was easily tossed aside. She landed near Tara with a thud, and remained on her stomach.

"What are you talking about?" AJ asked without missing a beat. The Unknown let out a small chuckle, and removed one of his black gloves.

"Let me show you," he said, beginning to walk towards Pinky. "You see, after I was expelled from the MACER Program, I decided to test the effects of the Device on myself. I wanted to see if I could continue my medical research without the government's help. What I found was I gained the power of mental suggestion."

"What does that mean?"

"Here, let me show you…"

The Unknown bent down to the near-unconscious Pinky, who looked at him in a daze. Showing no caution, he placed his hand directly on top of her forehead. She began to scream; images of beatings, torture, and pain all raced through her mind, burning their way into her thoughts. She tried to struggle, but could barely move. An orange glow began to emanate from beneath his palm.

"I learned that, given direct physical contact," he continued. "I can… influence the actions of others. I'd call it mind control, but I realized the individual has far too much freedom for that term. I simply direct their opinions. I cannot create them. As well, I did discover and unfortunate side effect…"

Slowly, Pinky stopped struggling, and began to moan. After ten more seconds, she was rendered entirely unconscious.

"I realized that the more someone struggled to resist the process, the more damaged they ended up becoming. If someone was too… resilient, they received terrible brain damage. Perhaps I shouldn't have used it on all of those who worked for me. Maybe, we never would have had a Smiling Dragons in the first place."

"So she's… gonna be okay?" AJ asked hopefully.

"Once she recovers, yes."

AJ let out a sigh of relief. Tara tensed up. Mind control? They were going to mess with her mind? Make her see nothing but lies, have her turn against everything that she had worked for for her whole life? It was a terrifying notion, but there was nothing she could do. Even if she could fight back, she wouldn't stand a chance. Apparently, it would only make her even more psychologically damaged.

"If you assholes think…" Rachel suddenly shouted from the opposite side of the room. "…that you can fuck up my mind, then you're bloody lunatics. I don't care who you are, but my mind is everything to me. You bastards aren't getting it."

"She's not immune to it, is she?" AJ asked offhandedly.

"I've only met one person who hasn't been affected by it," he replied. "And we impaled him several days ago."

AJ smirked. "Then I'll take care of this."

AJ burst into a mad sprint towards her target. Rachel couldn't see anything. All she could do was rely on the sound of footsteps to judge what was about to happen. The first attack she did well to duck. The second caused her to stumble backwards. The third strike took her to the floor. Once she was on the ground, AJ pinned her arms and legs, as The Unknown casually walked over. Rachel couldn't move, no matter how much she wanted to.

As she fearfully awaited for something to press against her skull, on the other side of the room, Fiona began to speak.

"Girls… can either of you move?" she called out in a loud whisper. Dash moaned.

"Sorta, but not well enough to fight. Spark?"

"I'm… I'm not sure." Fiona looked at the ground worriedly.

"Do you think you can drive?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dash asked, honestly confused. Fiona briefly looked at Tara, and then back at the floor. For the brief moment they made eye contact, Tara saw desperation in her friend's eyes.

"I'm saying… if you can get out of the building, can you drive to Camelot?"

Dash considered this for a moment. She nodded.

"I guess. But they'd never let us out."

"Yeah, I know," Fiona said somberly. Rachel let out a series of swears from the other side of the room, as she was forcibly grabbed and held down. Fiona couldn't bear to look. Instead, she took a deep breath.

"Fiona, don't you dare say what I think you're about to say," Tara stated angrily.

"Dash," Fiona said calmly. "I… I need you to take Tara, and get out of here."

"Wait, what? What about you? How will you get out?"

Fiona looked at the floor remorsefully. "I… I'll hold them off for you."

"No. no you're not," Tara said, trying to sound like a leader. "We're not leaving you behind."

"You two need to get back to Celestia, and tell her what happened. If I hold them off for just a minute, you can make it to safety."

"Look, you pink-haired psychopath," Dash said. "If anyone's staying behind, it should be me. I'm the strongest out of all of you."

"And that's exactly why you need to get out of here," Fiona said more forcefully. "You're the only person I would trust in keeping Tara safe. You two can't afford to be separated. Now, hurry up, and get going."

Dash opened her mouth to say something, but knew there was nothing left to say. Fiona was perhaps even more stubborn than she was (which she recognized as quite the accomplishment). It might have been because she appreciated being called strong, or it might have been because she knew it would be best for Tara, but Dash forced herself to rise, and then picked up Tara to lean on her shoulder. Fiona gazed longingly at her best friend for several seconds, before taking another deep breath, and standing up. Rachel became still, her struggles proving futile in saving her thoughts. The Unknown and AJ turned to the others.

"Please, Fiona," Tara begged. "You don't need to do this. Get in the elevator, and come with us. Being a hero isn't going to accomplish anything."

"I'm not doing this to be a hero," Fiona said sternly. Tara was amazed to see that the intensity had returned to her eyes, cast on the two enemies before her. "I'm doing this because I—" Fiona gazed at the ground. "It's not important. Just go. Be safe."

"Oh, no you don't!" AJ shouted, instantly realizing what was about to happen. She started a mad dash towards the elevator, which just began to close its doors. However, as soon as she got close, Fiona ran up to her, grabbed onto her shoulders, and threw her far away. She managed to receive one final glance from Tara in the elevator, giving her one final boost of confidence, before the elevator began its descent.

AJ groaned in frustration. Without any hesitation, she charged at Fiona, intent on taking her down as quickly as possible. However, Fiona knew that she could not allow that to happen, or at the very least, not yet. AJ threw a swarm of punches towards Fiona's head, each of them hitting only air. Fiona backed away carefully, keeping a close eye on The Unknown as well as studying her opponent. She quickly noticed how AJ had a tendency to swing just off to the left of her target, most likely due to her recent head injury. And so, Fiona dodged to the right every time. Even though it caused every one of her muscles to cry out in agony as she moved, Fiona was able to stay away rather efficiently. In fact, she was even able to land in a satisfactory punch of her own, successfully sending AJ stumbling away several feet.

Unfortunately, that was all of the luck Fiona received. The sight of his daughter injured sent The Unknown into a rage, and he dashed over to Fiona's position. She waited for him to make the first move, noticing how he kept weaving back and forth. However, because of this, she failed to notice that AJ had recovered, allowing the agent to deliver a swift chop to the back of Fiona's head. Fiona let out a yelp of agony, clutching her head, until she was suddenly silenced a strong kick to the side of the head. She collapsed to the ground entirely helpless, as two figures loomed over her.

"Should I go after them?" AJ asked.

"I'd rather you didn't," The Unknown admitted. "I have faith in your abilities, but I'd prefer that you didn't fight against fifty heavily armed guards, especially in your current condition."

AJ sighed. "Fine. Let's just get this over with…"

Suddenly, Fiona's eyes shot open. Two wings sprouted from her back, and flew into the air, soaring to the other side of the room. She was now fighting purely on instinct, her other senses long gone. She barely knew why she continued to do what she did. All she knew was that the life of one very special girl was counting on her, and she couldn't possibly let her down. She saw two forms running after her, but she wouldn't let them stop her. She burst through the air, delivering any attack she could manage as she flew past. She landed again; all she could hear was her beating heart. She took off towards the ceiling, hoping to keep up her act as long as possible.

But then, it all ended. AJ reached up and snagged Fiona's left leg, slamming her back to the ground. By the time she was back to her feet, AJ had already wrapped her hand around her neck, holding her down. Fiona clawed desperately at her captor's face, her limbs flailing about wildly. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand press against her head, which only drove her further off of the edge. She screamed as loudly as she could, furiously punching and kicking at absolutely nothing. So many disturbing images entered her mind; death, blood, rage, despair, and hate consumed her thoughts. But she refused to surrender, lashing out like a wild animal whenever she could.

Finally, after three and a half agonizing minutes, she finally began to feel faint. Her attacks lost their purpose, her calls quieted, and she began to moan quietly. Her eyes were shut tightly, trying in vain to keep the images out of her mind. She refused to give up. Tara was counting on her. She simply could not fail.

And then, everything turned black.

__________

Celestia tapped on her desk with her finger. The effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off, and the stress was starting to return. Of course, she still had hopes that the P.O.N.Y's would somehow be able to get the job done, but the ever looming threat of investigation consumed her thoughts. She considered getting another drink, when suddenly, she heard rapid footsteps down the hall. She rose from her chair, but Dash had already burst into the room, Tara leaning against her shoulder.

"Girls, what the hell is going on?" she asked in a panic. Dash laid Tara down on the empty desk.

"I could ask you the same fucking question," she muttered.

"Where are the others? What are they doing?"

"AJ…" Dash paused. The words were sour on her lips. "AJ fucking turned. She jumped us at the tower. The others got captured."

Celestia could hardly believe what she was hearing. If she hadn't known better, she would certainly say that Dash was intoxicated, or else such a story could never enter her mind. However, judging by her and Tara's grim expressions, something had clearly gone wrong.

"AJ… turned?" she asked in disbelief. "That's… that's insanity. She's been with us for thirteen years."

"Well, I guess she fucking got sick of it, cuz now she's busy torturing our friends with a fucking terrorist. Also, she says that you're a lying bitch, just so you know."

"A liar? I've never lied to her about anything. How would she even get to that assumption?"

"Well, The unknown must have told her something to make her hate you. So, you have any idea what that was?"

"I…" Celestia stuttered. Tara, even in her injured state, saw that the chairwoman was visibly uncomfortable. In fact, she looked exactly like she did when she first revealed the existence of the MACER Device, after Wilson had finished lying about the past. Quickly, Celestia changed topics. "Look, you two need to get to the med bay. You both look like shit. Why don't you just take a rest, and we can sort out everyth—"

"Just stop with the bullshit already!" Tara suddenly snapped. Everyone in the room went silent. "AJ said something about the real truth behind the MACER Device, as if we haven't been told everything. Not only that, but she talked about her family, as if you know something about them. So, either AJ's gone completely nuts over the past forty eight hours, or you're not letting us in on everything we need to know. And honestly, I'm really, really tired of being fed lies day after day. So spit it out already."

Celestia stared at Tara in shock. However, the shock and anger quickly morphed into shame, and Celestia let out a sigh.

"Look, it's been a rough day," she stated. "You girls deserve to know the truth. That much is true. Just… not now. I promise, the first thing tomorrow morning, I'll tell you anything you want to know. I just… I just need some time to think. And, by the looks of it, you need some rest."

Tara looked away. She could not put into words how fed up she was at everything. It was slowly turning out to be the worst day of her life. But, she figured, at least she would be able to understand everything by tomorrow. She supposed she would have to live with that. Dash muttered something under her breath, which actually gave Tara some comfort for once, knowing she was not alone. The two girls leaned on each other, and slowly, frustratingly, walked out of the room.

Celestia sighed, and sat back down behind her desk. She slammed her head into the table. She knew she would have to tell them everything, and it scared her deep inside. If AJ knew about her parents, and if she knew about the MACER Device, then she knew about everything. This was, if she was lucky, the end of her career. If she wasn't, she would probably spend the rest of her life in federal prison.

"Looks like nothing is going your way."

Celestia froze. She hated that voice. She thought he wasn't supposed to show up yet. She thought she had more time. But, as she soon discovered, she was graced by the early arrival of Scotchingson Hue. He stood in the doorframe, his face plastered with disappointment.

"You know, it seems like your incredibly talented at disappointing people," he stated dryly. "I thought you might have learned by now."

"Where are the others?" Celestia asked accusingly. "I know you never travel alone."

"Price is observing your training room," said Hue. "Starleston is doing… things. I never quite know with her, but she tends to be wise."

"If you really want to shut us down, do it already. We've already blown your funding."

"You shouldn't take assumptions, Bridgette Celestia. We haven't come to an agreement yet. Price is quite fond of the idea of teen secret agents. It reminds him of when he was younger, and not so putrid. Veronica's undecided, per usual. I could be persuaded either way, although…" Hue eyed Celestia closely. "You seem a bit drunk. Drinking on the job will subtract heavily from your score."

"You think this is a fucking game, don't you?"

"Of course, I do," he replied honestly, turning back to the hallway. "And if you wish to win, I suggest you use better language with your superior. The inspection starts now, Bridgette Celestia. Good luck."

__________

Rachel awoke groggily on a table. She had no idea where she was, or what was going on. Somehow, everything seemed different to her, but she could not quite put her finger on it.

"Um, hello?" she called out into the darkness. "Is anyone there?" She received no response. Instinctively, she hopped off of the table, and began to wander around the room. She quickly found her way to a door (after banging her foot into the side of another table), and hugged the wall as she explored. After being in relative silence for a few minutes, she picked up faint voices from many meters away. She quickened her pace, and before, long, found herself in another large room, where she heard a rather familiar voice.

"Rachel, ya finally got up."

"Oh, AJ, thank God I found you," Rachel sighed with a smile. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"How are ya feeling?" AJ asked.

"Well, aside from a stiff pain in my back, pretty normal," she replied honestly.

"What do you remember?"

"Well, I can't quite really recall. I do remember a lot of bullshit and irregular behavior."

"Well, duh, of course you remember that," chimed Pinky, who Rachel realized must have also been in the room the entire time. "That's cause we spent all that time doing totally nasty and mean stuff, when we really should have—"

"Thank you, Miss Patrikson," said another voice in the room. "I think she remembers."

"Thank you, Dr. Balle," Rachel replied honestly. "How is everything coming along?"

"Beautifully," he answered. "We should be ready to launch by Saturday night, if not sooner. I just need to finish a few more—"

"No!"

All heads turned towards the corner of the room. Rachel had been so confused on her whereabouts that she completely forgot about the other person who had come in with her.

"Fiona, are you alright?" Rachel asked. Unbeknownst to her, Fiona was sitting in the corner of the room, her head pressed against the wall.

"Don't you dare activate that until I get what I deserve!" Fiona shouted, completely ignoring everything else around her.

"Um… is she okay?" Rachel asked.

"She's been like that since she woke up," AJ whispered.

"We can't postpone this indefinitely waiting for those people to show up!" Balle claimed.

"They will show up!" Fiona screamed. "They have to!"

"And what if they don't show up?"

"They will!" Fiona stated angrily. She began muttering to herself. "You will show up. I need to stop this. You can stop this. Just show up. I know you will. You have to. I'll just wait, and wait, and wait for you. That's all I can do. I'll wait as long as I need to, you stupid, little—"

"Fiona, what in God's name are you talking about?" Rachel asked, walking towards her friend.

"I'm waiting for her," Fiona said harshly. "She'll come. I know she will. She always does. And once she comes, I'll show her. I'll show her everything. We just need to wait."

Rachel stared at Fiona inquisitively. Even though she couldn't see, she felt like something was incredibly off about one of her closest friends. Whatever sense of kindness and compassion that used be present now seemed to be entirely buried beneath a new, hardened shell. Rachel was only curious on why, although she hesitated to ask such a question.

"Fiona, I'm just wondering…" she said softly. "Who exactly are you waiting for? And what do you plan to do once they arrive?"

Suddenly, Fiona began to snicker. The laugh seemed full of disgust and hatred, and most certainly did not sound like it belonged in the mouth of Fiona Samswell. Fiona turned towards Rachel, and although she could not see it, Fiona wore a small, comforting grin.

"Isn't it obvious?" Fiona asked coyly. She had never experienced more hate in her life, and she let it consume every single word she spoke. "I'm going to kill Tara Sullivan."

End of Chapter 11

Chapter 12: An End to All Things (Dreaming of Oblivion)

Chapter 12: An End to All Things

Part 1 of 3: Dreaming of Oblivion

The military is an orderly unit. While one might commonly expect this, the exact level of orderliness may vary depending on what is being discussed. As well, how well one might detect the orderliness varies greatly from operation to operation. Some, like P.O.N.Y, do not seem to be very orderly at all. Granted, one might attribute this to the youthful nature of the primary operatives, as well as the numerous infiltrations and large-scale attacks launched on a monthly basis, but it should be noted nonetheless. In counterpoint, one might argue that P.O.N.Y. is, in fact, being run at a sufficient manner, but the constant distractions clutter the message.

Matthew Balle was ever so thankful that he did not have to deal with those types of frustrations, and, more importantly, was at a location that seemed to be run in a much more orderly manner. While the large circular room may have seemed confusing, in truth, it was the most organized he had ever seen from a government institute. The numerous monitors attached to the walls meant nothing to him. His attention was solely on the primary computer, which was currently running calculations on trajectory. Matthew felt himself compelled to take a rest, as the process would certainly take hours longer without a proper connection to the Pentagon, but something kept him awake, despite the late hours of the day. His heart was beating irregularly, and his fingers were tapping the board rapidly.

He could only assume that these feelings were anger, but after all of the hatred that had consumed his life, it became impossible to tell. Knowing that the end was so close kept his palms sweaty, and his mind racing.

"Are you still here?" a southern voice asked from behind. At once, Matthew Balle's shoulder's loosened.

"Can't sleep," he stated. "Too much to be done."

"You should probably rest," AJ said sternly, moving to his side.

"So should you, Anna."

"Fair point," she added, running her hands over the dashboard of the computer. "So, this is what's gonna launch the missiles?"

"Once its finished calculating," Matthew said. "I want to get it all done in three days."

"Three days? I thought you said it could launch sooner?"

"It probably could launch tomorrow. I don't want it to."

"Why not?" asked AJ, confused. "We've been waiting long enough as it is."

"Congress meets in three days," Matthew explained. "I want them in session when it happens. I want everyone to know at once what's going to happen to them. It's… poetic."

"I hate poetry," AJ said dryly. "Too complex, too extravagant."

"When you've been through as many things as I have," Matthew explained with a grin. "You'll find solace in the extravagant. It helps to forget the horrors of reality when you're locked in fiction."

AJ shrugged. She supposed she had no right to question her father's actions, given that he had in fact delivered her the truth. Even though she may have disagreed with it, it was the least she could do.

"How are the others?" Matthew asked.

"Pinky's toying around with that sniper rifle you gave her, and Rachel's sleeping," responded AJ simply. However, she quickly looked down at the floor. "But I am a little worried about her."

"She chose to resist, and that brings consequences," said Matthew, entirely uncaring.

"Yeah, but…" AJ did not know how to properly describe her friend's actions in any way that would not leave a frightful impression, so she immediately stopped trying. "I just hope everything will go as planned."

"Don't worry about it," Matthew whispered. "Just go back to bed." With a sigh, AJ nodded her head, and left the room, leaving her father alone with his thoughts. Her mind was still a cluttered mass of emotions. Betrayal haunted her. However, despite facing the end of the world as she knew it, and the complete revenge on those who stole away her life, her thoughts kept redirecting back towards two young women many miles away.

__________

March 19th, 2016

Tara hated waiting. She felt as if she had recently grown to like waiting, as if she had reached an epiphany, but she could not fathom why she thought like this. She couldn't rest. She couldn't eat. Her thoughts were like scattered ash, slowly clouding her mind in a black haze. She had yet to decide if she was furious or heartbroken. All she could hope was that Celestia's words would decide for her.

Until then, she was forced to lie in a hospital bed, with an IV jammed into her arm. Bandages were wrapped snuggly around her skull and chest, constantly reminding her of the beating she received mere ours ago. Supposedly, she had taken a severe blow to the back of the skull, or at least, that was what the doctors told her. She failed to recall when she would have gotten it, although given the number of times she was thrown into the ground, the possibilities were endless. However, she didn't feel any pain. She was far too enraged for that.

"Uh, Spark? You still in there?"

Tara briefly snapped out of her trance. She realized that she was staring at the wall with an angry glare for the past hour or so, and Dash, who stayed in bed next to her, must have gotten bored. The more athletic of the two girls had her share of bruises, but appeared to at least be in functioning condition. Dash sat upright, her legs dangling lifelessly off of the bed. Her downtrodden face gave hint to a deeper pain, although like most of the time, she was rather good at hiding true emotions.

"I mean, you're not even looking at the TV," she explained. "If you're trying to ignore me, I know you can do better."

"I'm not trying to ignore you. I'm just… distracted."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot to be distracted about."

Tara glanced at the TV. Dash had put on some children's television show. From what she could gather, Tank the Turtle was helping his bear friend learn the magic of sharing and friendship. Something like that, in Tara's mind, could not possibly seem more stupid.

"What time is it?" Tara asked.

"Four-thirty," Dash groaned. "I'm not even tired, though. That's the worst part. My arm hurts so bad that sleeping wouldn't be an option anyway."

Tara said nothing.

"So, uh… you wanna hear a story? You know, to pass the time? I could tell you anything ya want…"

Tara remained silent, choosing to vent her frustration by staring at the wall.

"C'mon, Spark," Dash begged. "Neither of us is getting any sleep. We both need someone to talk to. Besides, I can't even remember a time when we were both able to talk without wanting to rip each other's throats out."

"I've never wanted to rip your throat out," Tara groaned. "We're friends, hard as it may be for you to understand."

"Hey, you made a snide remark! That's progress. Go ahead. Say something else about me."

At once, Tara stopped talking. Dash scowled.

"Fine. I get it. You don't want to talk. I'll stop bothering you. Just… you do feel alright, right?"

"Rebecca…"

"Okay, okay," Dash said quickly, lying flat on the bed. "I just wanted to be sure."

The pair spent the next hour in relative silence. Dash no longer paid mind to the television, opting to gaze at Tara with mild curiosity. Occasionally, she attempted to garner attention by banging her hand against the wall, or talking to herself bitterly. Soon, it became painfully clear that no progress was being made, and so Dash decided to stop trying entirely.

Fortunately, the silence did not last long, as Celestia, at roughly six in the morning, quietly entered the room.

"About fucking time you showed up," Dash muttered. "Seriously, what's your problem keeping us waiting like that? You do know that—"

Dash suddenly noticed something different about the chairwoman. Her eyes were surrounded with rough markings, and she held herself up against the wall for support. Based on the constant pained expressions she was making, she had a terrible headache, which only got worse as time went on. Dash could hardly believe her eyes.

In a great moment of satisfaction, Dash came to the conclusion that Celestia was hung over.

"You, uh, had a little too much to drink last night, chief?" Dash asked mockingly.

"Turn the TV off," Celestia whispered. Dash chuckled to herself as she grabbed the remote, and the television went black.

"It's morning," Tara said dryly. "It's time you tell us what's going on."

"I'm getting to that," Celestia said, tiredly. She rubbed her temples. "If you excuse me, last night was—"

"I don't care what happened last night," Tara snapped, a little too loudly for Celestia's liking. "While you were busy drinking away your problems, I've been dealing with a concussion and five bruised bones. Unless you've forgotten, one of my closest friends, and your best agent, has decided to turn on us, and, not only that, but ambushed us last night, stole information that I guess has some importance, nearly beat us to death, started rambling on about her family, and then kidnapped our friends. Honestly, we're dealing with a threat who's kicked our asses every single time we've met, and I still feel like I know nothing. Worse, I feel like you have all of the goddamn answers we're looking for, and are holding them away from me. I'm not having this anymore. Spit it out, or I swear to God, I will get out of this base, and tell the news networks every freaking detail of what went on in this place."

Celestia sighed. "What… what exactly did AJ say last night?"

"She said, very specifically, that you were hiding the real truth about her family, and the MACER Device. Now, am I fair to say that you've been directly lying to us for the past several months about these things?"

"You… you might be able to say that," Celestia admitted, keeping her head hung low, almost ashamed. But Tara wasn't falling for it. She had officially decided to be angry, and that also led to a large degree of doubt to everything her superior said.

"So what the fuck really happened?" Dash asked. Celestia looked around the room nervously.

"Okay, everything I'm about to tell you is top-secret information. If anyone ever found out I said this to you, theoretically, we could be thrown in jail."

"If you're not lying to us," Tara sneered. Celestia felt a pang of guilt in her throat.

"I'm assuming that, since AJ knew about her family and the MACER Device, she probably knows about Matthew Balle, her father, and what he did for us. He was the one who constructed the MACER Device fifteen years ago. And, of course, the reason why AJ ended up with us was… well, we killed him."

"Wait," said Tara, completely confused. "You killed her father? She said he died—"

"In a fire at her house, I know," Celestia groaned. "We were the ones who started that fire. We had to."

"I'm sorry, but clearly, I have no idea what the fuck is going on here," Dash said. "So… AJ's dad created the Device, and then you decided to kill him in a fire… I guess. And I suppose that AJ bought some big cover-up that made her think it was an accident so that she would join you."

"She was five. She wasn't that difficult to fool," Celestia stated. "Listen, this is all sounding very bad when put like this—"

"When put like this!?" Tara shouted in rage. "What else would it sound like!? I'm not sure if you're registering this, but you killed an entire family in cold blood! How is it supposed to sound?"

"Tara, don't make assumptions on something you clearly don't understand. The current situation is bad enough as it is without you slandering everything we've done."

"Are you kidding me?" Dash asked. "Seriously, are you fucking kidding me? You finally get called out on doing bullshit moves in the past, and you say it's justified? How is that understandable in any way?"

Celestia sighed. She explained slowly and softly. "Matthew Balle… was a genius. When we were presented the idea of using the MACER Device, we jumped at it. Honestly, who wouldn't? We thought it would be able to advance humanity so far ahead that we put millions into funding research for it. One thing led to another, and our opinions were divided. Balle was still single-minded. He only wanted to use the Device for healing the sick. I was told to direct him towards using it to help our military. He saw it as unnecessary, and left the project. Still, we saw no harm in selling the secrets of the Device to our allies overseas."

"For money," Dash stated.

"For trust," the chairwoman corrected. "Apparently, someone had leaked news of our tests to the Chinese, and they went along and told everyone else. We couldn't allow them to think that we were raising an army of super freaks… no offense. Unfortunately, things went wrong very quickly. A couple of poor tests, and suddenly, we were accused of purposely allowing them to create 'destruction forces of nature'. A few days of controversy and one major cover-up operation later, we agreed that someone needed to take the blame for the entire ordeal, or risk the news of the MACER Device getting leaked to the public. I think you know what we chose. It was the right thing to do."

Tara stared at Celestia, entirely baffled. "The right thing to do? The right thing to do!? I'm sorry, but nothing you said makes this sound justified at all!"

"Do you know what would have happened if something like that got out to the public?" Celestia asked accusingly. "People are cruel. They lack all forms of compassion and understanding. Imagine, just for a moment, what would happen if Macers became commonplace in society. It would be like the fifties all over again."

"No way that would happen," said Tara. "People aren't like that anymore. We've changed as a society. I seriously doubt that entire nations would be that opposed to a group of human beings."

"Can you honestly say that? Don't tell me you don't see what would happen. Would you let your child go to school with a boy who can shoot fire out of his hands? Would you feel one hundred percent comfortable walking alongside a person who can infect anything he touches with disease? Would you even feel alright letting those people live in the same neighborhood, or the same city, or the same country as you, knowing that if any one of them has a bad day, they could kill dozens of people in an afternoon? Hatred exists inside all of humanity, even if we don't want it to. Unless I'm mistaken, one in every seven Americans hates the Jews, and they're not even a hazard to all of mankind. I don't care how far along this world has grown. Nothing is going to change the truth. Besides, don't tell me that you've never acted out of hatred in your life before."

Tara opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, recalling her own bitter words from a cheap motel in Haddonfield, West Virginia.

"I think you're missing the point," Dash interjected. "Honestly, who gives a fuck if some Macers are discriminated against? If they are so powerful, then I'm sure they can handle the criticism."

Celestia growled, although she was certain that the girls took no notice of it. "We'd prefer not to take the chance. So, we did what needed to be done. End of story."

"No, it isn't," Tara said sternly. She clenched her fist tightly. She couldn't stand listening to this any further. Everything about Celestia's lack of remorse infuriated her. She could not possibly understand why someone could be so hasty to sentence someone else to their death, even when she knew it was undeserved.

"You… you're insane," Tara said bitterly. "It doesn't matter what excuses you make. You killed an innocent family for your own selfish needs. Not only that, but you went ahead and brainwashed a little girl into becoming your personal toy soldier, lied to her about how you killed the people she loved, and then fucked up everything else along the way! You should be ashamed of yourself."

"You're making this sound very one-sided—"

"How is it not one-sided? How can you even claim this is arguable that you did the right thing!?"

"It was the right thing!"

"How? By damning your own allies just for trying to do good?"

"We potentially saved the lives of millions! It was what we had to do."

"Not by sacrificing the innocent."

"We didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice! If I were there, I would have come up with something, seen it from a different angle. Persuade them otherwise, or at least try something!"

"Don't you think we fucking tried everything!? Do you really think that we're that heartless that we wouldn't try to everything in our power to save them!? Don't you think I would have done something if I actually could!?"

Tara became silent. Celestia screamed everything in desperation, as if scared to let everything go. Tara, a mere second later, became shocked to realize that a tear was flowing down Celestia's cheek.

"Don't… don't you think… that maybe I didn't want to do it?" Celestia said softly. "It's… it's not like it was easy for me. That wasn't anything I signed up for. I never wanted anyone to get hurt. We searched for an alternate path for days, but every single time, we fund no new solution. We were on a timer that only seemed to get faster as the days progressed. In the end, it came down to two options: kill the Balle family, or risk the safety of our country. It wasn't like we chose easily, but deep down, we knew that, no matter how awful it was, someone was going to die."

Celestia took a deep, shaky breath, and then looked right into Tara's wide eyes. "Sometimes, someone has to die in order for a million to live. Sometimes, we have to make difficult choices that don't have a right answer. I know you think I'm a monster, and that I failed to save everyone I could, but… this isn't a movie. We don't have the luxury of happy endings. Sometimes… we make choices that we know we're going to regret. That's just how life works."

Tara looked hard at Celestia for a few seconds. She felt like she should have felt sorry for the chairwoman, yet she continued to feel nothing at all. She narrowed her eyes.

"Funny," she said, insultingly. "It almost sounded like you cared for a minute there."

Celestia had no response. Even with tears streaming down her face, the guilt had long passed by. She bent her head down, staring at the floor in a deep depression. Tara's features only softened when she began to feel pity for the woman next to her. It failed to make her feel better about the current situation at all. In fact, she felt a pang of guilt in the back of her mind, as if somehow she was someone responsible for the sins of the past. Her life simply seemed to get worse by the moment. It was Dash who finally broke the silence.

"If you two are finished self-loathing, can we please figure out how to save everyone who was kidnapped?"

"For starters, I would like to know what actually happened last night," Celestia said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"The Unknown laid an ambush for us. AJ proceeded to kindly beat the living shit out of us in the process. And then, he talked about controlling our minds, and started doing some weird glow-y stuff with his hands on Pinky's face. We got out just after that."

"Hmm. Well, I guess that wipes aside all doubt then on who The Unknown is. Wish that information would have provided a few months ago."

"Hey, we did the best we cou—"

"Dash. Shut up," Tara instructed forcefully. The words were said with such power beneath them that Dash, for once in her life, complied with utmost haste. "So Balle is a Macer too?"

"I… I actually don't know anything about that," Celestia admitted. "I'll look into it as much as I can. Mind control wouldn't be too surprising, after all."

"Fine," Tara stated. "Also, Balle mentioned something about having nuclear weapons in Vitrumia. Anything else you want to tell us?"

Celestia considered this. It was without question that Vitrumia had grand access to a wide assortment of minerals. She also knew full well that the United States had thrice been refused to inspect certain mining facilities that were accused of human rights violations, although some well-placed money kept the incidents out of the media's hands.

"That assessment seems probable," she said. "If so, then—"

"Balle would have a reason to align himself with Daltenoss," Tara continued. "Plus, he made an arrangement to gather rocket fuel from McCarther a few months ago. I… I think we both know what he's planning to do."

Dash watched as Tara and Celestia both went silent. The pair remained in utter silence, only of thinking of the horror that reality had brought upon them. Dash herself may not have been the brightest person in the world, but she caught on quick enough to the truth.

"Holy shit…" she muttered underneath her breath. "I mean… holy shit! You guys can't be fucking serious right?"

"It all makes sense now," said Celestia. For a brief moment, Tara thought she saw a smirk flash across the woman's face. "No wonder he kept his allies foreign. But given the fuel he's gathered—"

"He's planning on launching the missiles from Vitrumia," Tara stated. "If he's smart, he'll launch it towards Washington. Wipe out the whole capital in one strike, and get revenge."

"Guys," Dash interjected. "How the fuck do we know he's not launching a nuke at us right now? Every moment we waste is another second that we could get attacked."

"Dash, hold on for a second," Tara said sternly. She had no idea why, but something was still off to her. Sure, the plan made sense from a practical standpoint, but she couldn't help but feel that she was missing something important. It was if something was staring her right in the face, yet she couldn't make it out. The irrational part of her brain was panicking, telling her that she was about to lose everything she cared about. However, the small bit of rationality she held onto begged her not to act rashly.

"Spark, if you're about to spit out a random moral at me—"

"Just wait a second, will you?" Tara snapped. Dash growled in response. "Something's off. Ma'am, is there anything else about Balle that you're not telling us?"

"I told you everything," Celestia said honestly. "If there was anything else, I would surely have said it by now."

Tara groaned, and then shot out of her bed, leaning in close to a shocked Celestia. "We are about to get nuked by a vengeful psychopath! If you have anything to tell us—"

"Just trust me for once, will you!?" Celestia screamed back. "You're getting out of hand."

"And why shouldn't I be?" Tara shouted. She momentarily recognized that her anger was getting out of hand, but she pushed the thought aside. "We're in serious trouble! We need information!"

"No," Dash stated harshly. "What we need is to fly the fuck back to Vitrumia, and stop that nuke from firing! We don't have time for details."

"Not a chance in hell you two are going to Vitrumia," said Celestia. "Neither of you are in proper physical condition to fight Balle, and possibly even your own friends. I refuse to risk your lives over something so pointless!"

Tara paused for a moment, and stared at Celestia in great confusion. Celestia quickly realized her mistake, and looked towards the television.

"What… what do you mean by, 'pointless'?" Tara asked. Celestia swore under her breath. She sighed, and tilted her head down.

"It's pointless because… well, there is no danger of us being attacked," Celestia said, her voice full of guilt.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tara asked bitterly. Celestia opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly, the door opened up, and a man stepped inside. His eyes danced about the room, and his face was dull.

"Project Heaven's Fall has been operational since October, 1992," Scotchingson Hue stated. He walked into the room, now staring straight ahead at the wall. "The perfect anti-nuclear defense system. After Regan's failed 'Star Wars' project, several years were built developing an advanced, radar navigated failsafe on the off occasion that a country bearing nuclear arms ever decided to launch a frontal assault on United States soil. Using laser-guidance systems and high-frequency electromagnetic waves, the Heaven's Fall satellite hovers over the continental United States detecting unwanted presences over the mainland. If any ballistic missile comes within one hundred miles of the mainland, it is immediately disabled and destroyed. No one in the world is supposed to know that we possess this form of technology."

Hue took a brief glimpse at Celestia, who failed to hide her shame. "Thank you ever so much, Bridgette, for feeling that these irresponsible, 'nonpareil' youths have the appropriate clearance to be deemed worthy of protecting such information from prying eyes. I feel ever so glad that we hired you. Also, I highly recommend that you ladies stop shouting. I could hear you from the opposite side of the base."

Tara blinked, and then blinked again. She stared at Hue with such distaste that she did everything in her power from lunging at him. Perhaps it was a bit radical to try and kill someone she had just met, but the energy hadn't exactly left her system just yet, and her fingers still twitched occasionally.

"Excuse me, buddy," Dash said, insultingly. "But I don't think you have any right to deem us irresponsible considering the fact we saved the fucking world at least a dozen times."

"For the record, Miss Dawson, I'm not sure if anyone who's spent that much time in Juvi has the right to make such a claim," Hue said with a slight smirk. Dash growled at him.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that," Tara said defensively. "Dash has done some bad things, but she's been one of the best soldiers I've ever seen. Why don't you judge what she's done now?"

"You're right, Miss Sullivan," Hue said dryly, not missing a beat. He never gave her the decency of looking at her. "Let's focus on the now. What has your little operation done since October? Let's see now… you've allowed the deaths of a dozen civilians by starting a city-wide manhunt, allowed the assassination of a major public figure, let your friend get captured and tortured, wasted three months getting revenge on mercenaries when you could have been hunting your target, allowed the deaths of your close family members, took a vacation, killed the political family of an African nation starting an international incident that could lead to the investigation of highly important government intel, and most importantly, allowed a psychotic terrorist with a deep hatred of America gain access to nuclear weapons technology and enough to fuel to launch one of those missiles into American soil, potentially killing thousands. So, I guess you are right after all, Miss Sullivan. I should be judging you based on what's you've been doing now."

Tara couldn't take it anymore. Every single failure climbed to the forefront of her mind, driving her over the edge. Before she even knew what she was doing, she let out a yell, and dove towards the man before her who barely reacted to the sudden attack. Just before she reached, however, Dash wrapped her arms around her, and held her back. Hue shook his head.

"Abysmal behavior, Bridgette," he stated. "Really, if this is how you train them, than no wonder why they fail to get anything done."

"You son of a bitch!" Tara screamed, struggling to free herself. Dash kept her grip as tight as possible, although she noticed that Tara seemed to be much stronger than she previously thought.

"Calm it, Spark," Dash instructed. "Stop wriggling around."

"I'll kill you, you stupid little prick! No one says that about me! I'll rip your eyes out!"

Hue sighed. "Yes. Quite. I should let you know that Price has found your practice room rather adequate, although he did feel like the swimming pool was a tad excessive. Starleston has been wondering around your mess hall for the past twenty minutes, looking at different soups. She's asked me to postpone the final judgment for an extra day, in order to perform, quote, 'further research'. I think she might have actually grown accustomed to this place."

"There's no point to this anymore," Celestia stated. "Look, if there is no threat, don't hold the girls accountable."

"Oh, but they let a valuable asset to the United States escape to a foreign nation," he replied. "That's not very good at all. Because of that, I think it would be without question that these girls be put on lockdown until a decision has been reached."

Tara stopped struggling. At first, she had not understood what Hue was referring to. She was already banned from going on missions after all. However, she quickly learned the crucial difference between a suspension and a lockdown. Hue meant to imprison her in the facility. Trapped inside an endless mass of grey, while everyone she cared about were being held against their will. She was being reduced to an animal. She, Tara Sullivan, considered by her peers to be one of the greatest youthful minds in the country, was now nothing less than a rodent scurrying along at her master's feet. And worse, Hue seemed to have no trouble playing that master.

"Are you fucking serious!?" Dash shouted in rage. Hue ignored her, turning towards the door.

"And please, don't try to exit the building," he stated with his back turned. "Or else I'll be more than glad to shoot you personally. Have a nice day."

With that final statement, Hue walked out of the room, and left the women to their own devices. Tara shook Dash off, sitting on the bed with her legs dangling off the sides. It was an incredible feat that her rage had raised to such levels. Her nails had dug so deep into her palms that they began to feel moist. Her body trembled violently, and she was quite certain that she was going to punch something within any moment. Celestia wisely chose to say nothing to her, opting to lean back in her seat and cover her face with her hands. Dash only lay on the bed in a discouraged mood, allowing an ever-growing vocabulary of swears leave her lips. To her, it was a surprise when Tara walked towards the door, and slammed it shut behind her. Dash briefly glanced at Celestia as if looking for acceptance, but was never met with a form of response.

Son of a bitch, she thought, getting up from her comfortable bed, and racing after her friend. She was shocked to discover that Tara was long gone, despite having only left a few moments before. Dash knew where she was headed nonetheless, but she had hoped that she would have the luxury of little movement. She picked up a gentle jog down the corridors, keeping a close eye on her stamina.

CRASH

Suddenly, Dash picked up her pace. No matter how much her muscles screamed at her to stop running, she was determined to move forward. She even managed to use her powers for a brief moment, gaining her an extra ten feet within a second. Dash turned the corner, and stared in shock. There, lying on the floor in front of her, was the door to the sleeping quarters, crumpled and torn off of its hinges.

"Goddammit!" Tara yelled loudly from within the room. Dash, feeling a deep sense of worry, peered inside. Tara stood in the center of the room, her veins resonating a dark purple. Her violet eyes produced a steady river of tears, as she threw a punch into the back wall, creating a large dent.

"Fuck them! Fuck them all!" she shouted, hitting anything she could. "How dare they do that to me!? Don't they understand anything!? Don't they know what this means to me!?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dash interrupted. "Spark, what's the problem?"

"It's not fair!" Tara continued to shout. "It's just not fair! After everything I've done for them… and now they just take it all away!" Tara slammed her fist into the wall, and the entire room began to rumble. All of the objects on the bunk rose out of the air, and remained fixed in place. The floor shook violently beneath Dash's feet, causing her to stumble to the ground.

Nothing mattered to Tara anymore. To her, the world was crumbling apart, and she simply didn't care anymore. The bloodlust was uncontrollable, and she honestly did not mind if she ended up destroying the whole base with her powers. It's not like it mattered anymore. It's not like she mattered anymore. So why not destroy everything? At the very least, it would give her less time to wallow in the agony of her life.

But then, Tara's thoughts were stopped short when Dash walked up to her, and slapped her in the face.

Tara at once fell to her knees. The room stopped shaking, and the blankets and pillows fell back to the earth. Dash stood above her, breathing heavily.

"Okay, you psychotic bitch," she began. "I don't know what the fuck that was about, but can't have you freaking the fuck out on me right now. This is a time of crisis, and we all need to work together. So, come on already. Tell me what's wrong so we can hug it out, or something."

Dash waited for an answer patiently for several moments. However, all Tara could manage to do was turn around, look at her through watery eyes, and barely whisper:

"You were right."

Dash blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Tara sniffled, sitting against the wall. She brushed her bangs out of her red face.

"You… you were right (sob) about me," she said somberly. "All of those (sob) things were true. I… I really am a (sob) failure. I've done nothing right (sob) since I've come here. Hell (sob), I'm not even sure if I've done (sob) something right for most of my life anymore. (sob) I can't do anything. I can't lead this (sob) team. I can't stay kind to (sob) my friends without snapping at them (sob) for something that I've screwed up (sob). I… I can't even avenge the death of my own brother (sob). I can't even fire a fucking (sob) gun to save the people I care about. And now (sob), because of me… people are going to die. I… I… I'm just a failure."

Tara broke down into a lasting fit of cries. She held her knees close to her chest, allowing them to soak up her tears. She didn't care anymore what Dash would say to her. It was probably correct regardless. However, Dash said nothing at all. She simply sighed, and went to lie down on the nearest bunk.

"I think I should tell you that story now," Dash said, staring up at the ceiling. Tara's sobs decreased.

"Dash," she said weakly. "I don't—"

"Yes. You do," Dash replied sternly. Tara instantly became silent, and stared at the floor. "See, I used to know this girl named… Beth. Beth was this little shit who thought she knew how the world worked, and planned to play it like a fucking fiddle. But Beth got in a lot of trouble in her past. She had a really rough home life, with shitty parents, no money, the works. She may have done some things that she regretted. But that didn't matter to Beth, 'cuz she knew she was queen of the world."

"So Beth tries real hard to be something good, but keeps fallin' back to hard times. Deep down… she probably knew that she would never make much of herself. But she was a stubborn little bitch. She flunked out of high school, got hooked on drugs, and was kicked out of her house, but she kept on trying to make it somewhere. She didn't give a shit about the cops, or her friends, or anyone at all. Beth lived a shit little life, and she was determined to make it ahead, no matter what. So, one day… Beth met up with this guy named Carlos, a computer hacker. She… she gave him every last fucking dollar she had, praying that this final chance could finally redeem her broken life. And… in return, he… he hacked into a college computer network, and enrolled Beth into the school for an all-expense free scholarship."

Tara instantly looked up, and stared at Dash with wide eyes. Although she couldn't make out her face, she had no doubt that Dash was showing deep resentment.

"You…" Tara stuttered out. "You broke into Ymerton?"

"I… I didn't really have a choice," Dash said softly. "There was no place left for me to go. I was practically dying on the streets. No one sensible would accept a juvenile delinquent into their mists when they know how horrible of a person she was. It's… it's not like it fucking mattered, right? Even when I was finally given another chance, I blew it immediately. I kept skipping classes, getting into trouble, hooking up with asshole friends. Honestly, if I didn't get swooped up into this mess… if I never met you guys… well, I don't even know what would happen to me."

Slowly, Dash rolled onto her side, and looked Tara directly in the eyes. "Spark, I want you to listen to me. You're a great person. You're probably the smartest person that I know in this world. You manage to stay compassionate to people when I would have already killed them. I know you feel like a failure, but trust me, you're the furthest thing from a failure that I know of. You still have a life out there. After this, you can go back to your family, start up at school, get a job, and make something of your life. I'm… I'm probably just going to wind up dead in an alley way somewhere. No one will remember who I was, or what I did, or even care in the slightest that some punk kid died fighting to survive. You're practically destined for great things. You'll probably end up us president or something, living a fantastic life with your family and friends, who would, without a doubt, support you in everything you did. Face it, Spark… if you really wanted to know what failure looks like… you're looking at it."

Tara didn't know what to say. She waited for Dash to burst into laughter, or make fun of her gullibility, or at least make some sort of snide remark. But there was none of that to be found. Dash simply rolled back on her side, and looked at the wall, leaving Tara alone to understand the full meaning of her words. Never before has she ever heard Dash sound anything close to sincere. It was like she was talking to a completely different person. Dash was confident, assertive, outspoken, and brash. She certainly was not this self-remorseful, caring young woman who believed in Tara Sullivan. If Dash were here, she probably would have said Tara was being too kind to herself. But to this, Tara had no proper response. She was stuck in a mental glitch.

"Do you…" Tara managed to say after a minute of silence. "Do you really think that?"

"I told you, I tell people what I think of 'em," Dash retorted. Then, with a sneer, she added, "If you have a problem with that, you can kindly go fuck yourself."

"Oh. Okay then," Tara answered, her voice small. After another minute of silence, Dash spoke up again.

"For the record, I still wouldn't vote for you if you were going to be president," she stated, with a bit too much defensiveness. Tara couldn't help but smirk.

"Of course you wouldn't," said Tara. "You wouldn't want something progressive like a woman in the White House."

"And I also wouldn't want something stupid like a nationwide ban of abortions, you stupid right-winged cow."

"Faithless underachiever."

"Fucking hypocrite."

"Ignorant liberal."

Tara and Dash paused for a moment, looked squarely at each other, and then burst into laughter. In a time of unbearable circumstance and dreadful hardships, it was amazing how good it felt for both of them to simply laugh for once at each other. If one had not known any better, it almost was if they had been close friends for many years. Every time the laughter died down, something intangible brought it back in full force.

Eventually, after their ribs hurt deeply and their cheeks were strained, Dash let out a deep sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't fucking raise the gas prices when you're in charge, will ya? It's already shitty enough in this economy."

"Don't worry," Tara said shakily. "America has one of the largest natural resource stock piles in the world. In the future, things will be—"

Suddenly, Tara paused. Her eyes went wide. Something in the back of her mind clicked together perfectly. Something devastatingly important, that called out to her from the deepest depths of her mind.

"That's it," she muttered under her breath.

"What's it? What are you talking about?" Dash asked, still purging the last few chuckles from her system. However, instead of answering, Tara jumped to her feet, and burst down the hall. Dash immediately took off after her, wishing that her leg felt well enough to use her powers. When she finally caught up to her friend, she found her in the Briefing Room, hurriedly tapping away on the keyboard.

"Come on, come on. Where are you?" Tara asked to no one. Tara herself was not an expert with computers. She barely knew how to run her own laptop, let alone gain access to government files. She sorely wished Pinky was with her, but pushed on regardless. Finally, she discovered exactly what she was looking for. She couldn't be more terrified.

"Dammit!" she screamed, slamming her fist against the desk. Dash cautiously walked over, staring at the screen nervously. However, all she found were sets of numbers.

"What's going on?" she asked. Tara began to speak rapidly.

"Dash, tell me. What do you know about Matthew Balle?"

"Uh… he's tried to kill us. And he's AJ's dad. And he sent other people to kill us."

"He likes theatrics," Tara explained. "The man dresses up in a mask and has his own catchphrase. So, honestly, do you think a man like that would ever try to do something as simple as launch a nuclear missile at the capital?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Balle worked for top secret government projects for years, and then spent even more learning its secrets. Wouldn't someone like that consider that the US has a nuclear defense program?"

Dash paused for a moment. "Spark, what the hell are you getting at?" Tara pointed towards the screen.

"These computers are linked up with WMH Enterprises," she stated. "A company specializing in the international distribution of fuel sources. Hypothetically, if someone talented enough was able to gain access to this, they would have access to the locations of the world's biggest fuel reserves, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Of course."

"Don't you get it?" Tara asked in frustration. "When Balle attacked those servers last night, he wasn't trying to steal anything; he already had the information he was looking for. He was trying to tell us what he was really planning. That's why he had so little interest in the servers last night. It was all just for show. Last month, I caught Chrysalis sneaking around in here, at this terminal. She was sending him coordinates."

"For what?"

"Dash, let me ask you something?" Tara said, ignoring the question. "If you were the United States government, and someone attempted to nuke you, what would you do?"

Dash barely needed to think about her answer. "Probably nuke the fuck out of them."

"Exactly. But how would you possibly be able to do that with Heaven's Fall in place, a system that destroys all nuclear missiles near the US?"

Suddenly, Dash caught onto what Tara was trying so desperately to tell her. "I wouldn't be. But the government would never allow that to happen. So that would probably mean Heaven's Fall has a security loophole. Like a one-way street. We attack, they don't."

"And the places we would attack, are these…" Tara said, pointing specifically at the numbers. "Locations via latitude and longitude. All of them are oil reserves. Imagine what would happen if the United States launched an attack on all of these places. Saudi Arabia, Iran, Nigeria, all of them… twenty percent of the world's natural fuel gone, completely irradiated and useless."

"The world would turn into a fucking meltdown," Dash said, bitterly. "Jesus fucking Christ. Gas prices would skyrocket."

"You're thinking too small," Tara said, fearfully. "I mean, what would really happen? We… we would be facing the biggest international catastrophe in history. The economy would collapse faster than the Great Depression, and might last for decades. There would be rampant power shortages, a rise in crime rates. With oil getting scarcer and scarcer, people would end up fighting each other in the streets. The Middle East, which already a freaking warzone, would break down completely."

"Wait, people can't freak out that much about it, right?" Dash asked, trying to stay hopeful. "I mean, it's not that much gone. Right?"

"Remember when oil got spilled into the Gulf of Mexico? This would be one thousand time larger, probably more. Think about it: one-fifth of all of our natural fuel wiped out completely. People are cruel, remember? They'll freak out."

"Son of a bitch."

"That's not even considering what could happen to the United States. To any outsider, it would look like America tried to wipe out the world's oil supply in an attempt to raise their own stock. We would never be able to prove our innocence. We'll be blacklisted by every first-world country, cut off from trade and military aid. There would be daily protests at the government buildings, mass exoduses, complete and utter chaos in the streets. Martial law, increased violent, separation from the country… hell, and all out civil war might break out for all we know! This… this is bad. Really, really bad."

Dash groaned, and leaned back against the wall. "So that's what Balle is planning. He isn't planning to destroy the world. He's fucking planning to let the world destroy itself."

"Of course he is," Tara nodded grimly. "He's a fan of theatrics. To him, it's the perfect symbolic end to the world. The fucked him over, and now, he just gets to sit back, and watch happily as the world burns itself to the ground. Just like his home."

The two girls stayed in dark silence for a while. None of them really knew what to say. They just let the darkness seep into their minds. Only one thing was absolutely certain to them: they needed to stop this. They only wished they knew how.

"We… we have to tell Hue about this," Tara said. "As much as I hate asking that bastard for help, we need to tell him what's really going on."

"Bullshit," said Dash. "I say we just fucking leave now, and take our chances. The longer we wait, the more time Balle has to launch those nuclear missiles. Who know how long we have?"

"Three days."

Celestia leaned against the doorframe, looking down at the floor though her blonde hair. Tara and Dash stared at her in surprise. They had not heard her footsteps, and did not know how long she had been listening. But they listened intently, hoping to find at least some guidance in the dark.

"There's a Congress meeting in three days' time," she stated with authority. "There's no doubt that Balle wants them in session when he decides to strike. That way, the public won't have to wait to take out their anger on the government."

"Are you sure?" Tara asked. Celestia nodded.

"You said it yourself. Balle is a man of theatrics. He'll wait, no matter how much it kills him."

"Okay, so let's go," Dash said very frustrated. "We're wasting enough time as it is."

"Don't be hasty, Rebecca," said Celestia. "First of all, you don't even know where the hell Balle is hiding out. Second of all, you two are still under lockdown, and I doubt Hue is going to let you run off."

"He would if we told him about what Balle is trying to do," Tara stated. At this, Celestia let out a small laugh.

"Clearly, you don't understand the mind of Scotchingson Hue. It doesn't matter how much evidence you compile. He won't believe a damn word you say. He has too much hubris to allow an eighteen year old to tell him off. Besides, it's not like your theory is overtly grounded in reality. Not many people would believe a plan to irradiate the world's oil supply."

"So, what do we do? We can't just stay here."

"I'm working on a plan," Celestia said. "But look, there's something else I needed to tell you. It's about your friends."

"What is it?"

"Well, I've been thinking about Balle's supposed power of mental manipulation. If he really can perform such acts, it probably explains AJ's sudden change in behavior. However… it also means that your friends might be siding with Balle as well. And, of course… you would have to fight them."

Tara looked at the ground. Fight her friends? How could she possibly be expected to do that? Those girls were practically her life. She supposed she should have given this more thought, but the anger had been clouding her judgment. But now that it was clear, she felt terrified. What pain would she have to inflict in order to stop them? Would they try to kill her? Would she have to kill them?

"So, I've been thinking of ways we might reverse the process, if one exists," said Celestia, resting her hand on her chin.

"Don't we just have to defeat Balle to stop the mind control?" Dash asked, partially sincere. "I mean, that works in video games."

"But this isn't a game," Celestia reminded Dash. "Killing Balle may not do anything to them at all. But that's what got me thinking. According to AJ's report, Quincius Daltenoss had turned against Balle back in Vitrumia. Unless I'm mistaken, Balle doesn't seem like the type of person to trust his allies that much. So clearly—"

"Quincius was immune," Tara stated, hopeful. "But why?"

"Well, this is just a hunch," Celestia said. "But I think it has something to do with his Macer capabilities. The United States did take his remains in for study. If I can get access to that, I think I might be able to reverse engineer a cure for Balle's powers."

"Do you really think you can do it?"

"I… I don't know. I hope," Celestia said honestly. "But I'm going to need at least thirty six hours. Maybe more. After its done, I'll smuggle you girls out of the base. After that… it all falls to you."

Tara nodded. She had three days left; three days before the world as she knew it came to an end. She looked at Dash. The rainbow haired girl had regained the look of confidence that she was so well known for. While usually it would have only brought Tara down, now it gave her more hope than ever.

She could do this. She had to.

"I need to be off now," Celestia said, heading for the door. "You two stay low until I come back. Remember, the fate of this organization rests in your hands. I have faith in you girls. Just… come back alive, will you?"

"Of course," Tara answered confidently. Celestia smiled faintly, and then left the room. Dash threw her arms up in the air, and yawned.

"Man, it's like five in the morning, and I haven't slept in ages," she said, walking away. "I'm gonna hit the sack. Hopefully my bunk isn't too fucked up."

"Dash, wait!" Tara called out. With a groan, Dash turned around. "I need you to do one last thing."

"What do you need?"

"I need you to get me a phone," Tara said with a smirk. Dash became puzzled.

"What the hell do you need that for?"

"I need you to look something up for me," said Tara confidently. "I figure, if this really is the end for us, why do we need to face it alone? What would be the trouble of getting a little… backup?"

"Spark… what are you talking about?"

"Just get me access to a phone and the internet," Tara spoke with a devious expression on her face. "There are some people I want to call."

To Be Continued…

Chapter 12: An End to All Things (To My Dearest Friends...)

Chapter 12: An End to All Things

Part 2 of 3: To My Dearest Friends...

March 21st, 2016

Pinky yawned for what had to be the twelfth time that day. It was already getting rather late, with the sun just starting to descend into the horizon. She would have admired the beautiful colors that the sky brought her, if she wasn't already looking down the scope of a sniper rifle.

At first, when Matthew had asked her to stay on guard, she jumped at the chance. She figured that the job would encompass everything she ever wanted. Not only was she allowed to stay in a twenty foot tall tower away from the hanger, but she was allowed to hold onto the precious little sniper rifle in her care. Honestly, the weapon was just too cute for her to abandon. Who would have known how long it would stay in storage, without ever feeling any sense of love? Besides, it gave her a chance to prove to her commander that she was ready to do whatever it took to get the job done.

Unfortunately, that was four hours ago, and her cramped watch room was starting to become a major problem for her legs. It wasn't as if there was anything interesting to look at either. All there was for miles and miles on every side was forest. Boring, plain, detestable forest, which she hated. Or, perhaps not "hate", but something so similar she was unable to tell the difference.

As with many times when she was bored, Pinky's imagination began to run wild. At first, she pretended that there was a large group of black bears charging at the base, and she shot them down one after the other. At one point, she was so lost in her fantasy that she once shot a tree's branch clean off, which ended in Rachel calling her up and viciously scolding her for poor behavior. About an hour after that, she began to think of an alien invasion, where UFO's flew down from the heavens and began to abduct all of her friends. She very nearly fired her rifle again, although was able to stop herself less than a second before she pulled the trigger.

And then, quite by accident, her thoughts flew to Tara and Dash. She didn't know why, but she instantly felt feelings of resentment. To even think that she had been capable of working with such horrid people gave her the creeps. It plugged a sense of doubt into her mind that she preferred not to consider. What would have happened if she never discovered the truth? What would have happened to Rachel and Fiona and AJ? Or worse, what if they were only playing the parts of double agents, and had been scheming to stop Matthew's plans all along.

She shook away the thoughts. Naturally, her friends weren't out to get her. Pinky wasn't even sure if her friends had the hearts for something so despicable. In fact, once she thought about it, she wondered if even Tara or Dash were aware of the evil they were assisting. Maybe they were just as unaware as she was, completely blind to the truth. Perhaps, hopefully, they could still be redeemed.

Yet Pinky stopped her obsession with hope. If Rachel knew what she was thinking about, she would probably strangle her to death. And so, Pinky went back to imagining things. She imagined that the floor had turned to lava, and was going set the forest aflame. She imagined that fairies surrounded her, dancing and twirling about in the sunset. She imagined that a star was falling to the earth, ever approaching. She imagined that a vast ocean surrounded her and the entire base. She imagined that the falling star was moving much faster, and seemed to stick out from the environment more and more. She imagined that two gophers were wrestling with each other in the field.

Pinky paused for a moment. She looked up in the sky, and stared directly at the object moving towards her. She was quite certain that she had been imagining it, but it seemed to have a deep desire to morph into reality. The star remained very, very real, ever approaching her position. However, the star didn't look like a star to her. In fact, looking through the scope of her sniper rifle, the star almost looked like a large man, plummeting to the earth. Pinky blinked a couple of times, and then her eyes went wide with fear. Immediately, she spun around, opened up the hatch in the watch tower, and slid down the ladder. She yanked out her phone, looking behind her with dread.

"Rachel!" Pinky screamed in terror. "We have a problem. A really big problem!"

"What's wrong?" asked the British voice from the other end. "Pinky, talk to me. Pinky? Pinky!?"

Unfortunately, Pinky had lost all energy to speak. She was too busy running for her life. There were no other guards at the base. She had to make it back in time. She needed to warn them in time, before it was too late. She forced herself not to look back. She had to keep moving. The base was getting ever closer. Somehow, she felt as if she would be untouchable inside. She was so close. One hundred yards. Ninety yards. Eighty yards.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her shook violently, and a powerful gust of energy sent her sailing forward. She landed ten yards ahead, face planted into the ground. A large stone skipped past her, missing her head by mere inches. Her entire body ached, but she pushed herself up, and kept on moving forward. No matter how much she was in pain, she knew it would be far worse if they caught up with her.

You have to be kidding me, she thought. Her body was shaking with fear, and she amazed herself by not collapsing immediately. Why them? Everyone in the world, and it had to be them.

As Pinky ran far away from the ruined watchtower, Kristov Korbalov rose to his feet. With a sigh, he brushed off his jacket, wiping it clean of the filth which was kicked up in the air. He held a finger to his earpiece.

"Watchtower down," he said dryly. "No one else in sight. Move up."

"Coming," replied his brother. An engine roared from the forest, and within moments a massive combat truck plowed through the trees. The vehicle rolled to a stop just in front of Kristov's eyes, although the large man did not flinch. He merely took one of his red fists, and banged it against the hood. A side door opened with a hiss, and Yuri poked his head out.

"Nice work," he said with a smirk. "Although, you missed a spot over there. Try to be thorough."

"Will you shut up for a second?" Dash asked, irritated from being confined in such a tight space. She kicked Yuri in the back, trying to force her way outside of the vehicle. He only let her leave out of sheer pity, as watching such a small woman flailing about in a cramped space was practically heartbreaking to watch (and of course, he did not want to risk any form of deduction in his pay). Dash crawled out of the vehicle, shortly followed by Tara, and the pair surveyed the vast landscape.

Matthew Balle's hideout was an abandoned military base in the middle of the unused territory between Philadelphia and Harrisburg, along the Susquehanna River. The base itself existed in a clearing past several hills and woodland areas, taking up several hundred square meters of space. It consisted largely of three parts. First was the hanger, a large, rectangular building used to hold military grade vehicles. It was the closest to the main path to the base, and as such was surrounded by two watchtowers several hundred feet away. To the left was the silo, a dome-shaped structure which undoubtedly held the weapons Balle was so desperate to use. In the far back of the base was the smallest building, which Tara assumed to be a command center of some sort. That was where Balle had to be hiding (or at least, she hoped).

"Did you see any signs of the others?" Tara asked. Kristov shook his head.

"Does it even matter?" Yuri asked. "Those girls aren't a threat to us."

"Those girls are our friends," Tara said sternly. "And last time I checked, we beat your asses and left you to die in the snow. We need to get them out of here. Besides, we don't need Balle having any more security."

"Great. So how do we deal with them?"

"Well, first we have to run across one of them. AJ will probably be with her father. The others might be standing guard. And once we find them. We use one of these…" Tara reached into the armored vehicle, and pulled out a small briefcase, no bigger than her head. The group huddled around it, as Tara carefully opened it up. Inside, four metal syringes lay in wait, an orange liquid sloshing beneath the surface.

Yuri immediately started to snicker. "You want us to drug them? Kristov, why did we agree to take this job again?"

"Because they said they would pay us," Kristov replied in a dull voice.

"I'm sorry, but the Brothers of Chaos are specialized in killing their targets, not fucking them up," Yuri stated. "This is a lot of extra hassle to go through for some stupid—"

At once, Tara grabbed onto the collar of Yuri's shirt, and pushed him against the car. "Listen here, you Russian piece of crap!" she yelled furiously. "I don't really care about what the hell your business practices are! This is your goddamn job! If I see so much as a broken arm on one of those girls, I will tear your goddamn head off, and burn your remains to ashes!"

Yuri turned to Dash, hoping for someone to say something reasonable, although all he got was a snicker.

"Spark's got a point," she said, her grin wide. "You really don't want to see her get pissed off. She's got a wicked sucker punch."

Yuri considered this for a moment. He was quite positive that neither of the girls could deliver him much harm. After all, he was practically invulnerable. That one occasion in Russia was just a fluke, nothing more. Really, all they were making were empty threats. But when he looked at his brother, he saw him nodding in agreement. That was all it took for him to start smirking again, and throw his hands up in the air.

"Okay! Got me! I surrender," he said with a laugh. He swiped one of the syringes from the case, and put it in his back pocket. The rest of the group followed suite. "So, we take any prisoners back here, after we stab them with whatever the hell this thing is."

"Right," Tara stated. "According to Celestia, once this cure enters their bloodstreams, they'll be knocked out in seconds. That should be a lot simpler than having to drag them back here. Once someone is down, make sure to tag them and let the rest of us know. The needle needs to puncture in a major vein, so take care. We barely have enough of this cure made as it is; we can't afford to waste it."

"Spark, we got it," Dash groaned. "Let's save the fucking world already."

"Okay, okay," Tara grumbled. "Let's head to that building in the back. Hopefully they'll be back there." Yuri nodded, and jumped into the vehicle enthusiastically. Tara, however, climbed on top of the armored truck, and opted to ride in the turret mounted nearby. The cramped space was starting to induce minor claustrophobia, and the last thing she needed right now was to be stressed.

As the truck began to move, and her mission had officially begun, Tara couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread. The fear began to churn in her mind. On one hand, she was being guarded by the two most dangerous men on the planet, who would do anything for her as long as she could guarantee to pay them 3.5 million dollars' worth of government spending. On the other hand, everyone she cared about wanted her dead, and if she were to fail, the world as she knew it could be dead as well. It was not a comforting feeling. Tara started taking very deep breaths as she officially entered the ground of the military base.

You'll be fine, Tara, she tried thinking. We'll stop them. We always do. Everything will end up fine.

However, she knew that was a lie. She didn't always stop the bad guy. Most of the time, she wasn't able to do much at all. If she failed now, if she wasn't able to do anything, then it would all be over. For a brief moment, Chrysalis' face flashed in her head, a bitter reminded of her failures.

But that wouldn't be the end for her. She refused to let anyone else down ever again. After all of the hell that she had been through, she deserved to get the job done. In the past few months, she had been shot, stabbed, clubbed, beaten, drugged, tortured, mutated, and only God knew what else.

No, Tara Sullivan was certainly not going to fail today.

However, as this thought crossed her mind, so did a shadow across the sky. A surprisingly dark shadow for a sunset like this, which seemed quite peculiar. Suddenly, Tara felt someone slam into her back, and the next thing she knew, she was twenty feet in the air, soaring rapidly towards the hanger. She heard Dash scream out in panic, but it seemed like a distant echo. Before Tara had time to react, she was carried into the largely empty hanger, and thrown harshly against the metal wall. She let out a scream of pain as she collided, leaning hopelessly against the structure. She saw a shadow above her, and tried to push it away. However, she felt a hand wrap tightly around her throat, as she was lifted into the air, choking against the wall.

"We're finally together now." Tara instantly recognized the feminine voice. Through her blurry vision, she saw Fiona hovering mere inches away from her face, her hand keeping hold of her throat. Tara tried to remove her friend's hand, but was shocked at the display of strength Fiona displayed. She attempted to say something, yet only let out a wheeze.

"I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for this," Fiona said in a whisper. "I haven't slept in days. I knew you'd come. You had to save your 'precious little friends', didn't you?"

"F-f….. Fio— ergh," Tara managed to choke out. She clawed desperately at Fiona's arms.

"They mean so much to you," Fiona said, her voice full of disgust. "I'm just sure you would do anything for them, right? After all, they're your friends. It's not like you would ever want to hurt any of your friends, right?"

"Wh…what are—"

"What is it like to be you?" Fiona asked. "Walking around every day, putting everyone else down around you? Acting like the queen of the world? You don't even care about the people you hurt, do you!? They're just ants to you! So why not break them down, huh!?"

Tara was stating lose focus on reality. She was struggling less and less, and she could feel her body becoming limp. She looked directly into Fiona's eyes, half-terrified, half-sorrowful. Within Fiona's eyes was a tremendous flurry of emotions: hate, rage, desire, lust, heartbreak; all of these being unleashed as Tara slowly choked to death. Fiona leaned in close, and whispered in Tara's ear.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you yet," she said softly, her voice almost soothing. "That would be too easy. No, this needs to be slow. You need to understand everything I've felt. It's not fair until you experience all of the pain and humiliation you put me through. Then, once you're crying and begging for death, and I'll be something you never were: merciful."

Tara's vision was starting to fade. She let out a gurgle as Fiona pressed their foreheads together.

"This will be everything I've dreamed of," said Fiona happily. "Just the two of us… together at—"

Suddenly, with the last of her strength, Tara shot her arm forward. Fiona flew backwards into a light dangling from the ceiling. Tara fell ten feet to the ground, landing with a thud. She rolled around on the floor, gasping for air, and coughing erratically. Once she calmed herself, she looked up towards the light. It swung back and forth on steel cables, inertia controlling it.

Suddenly, a high pitched scream filled the air, and from atop the light, Fiona swooped down on blue wings, diving directly towards her target. She waited until the last moment before braking in mid-air, rotating around, and swinging her heel towards Tara's head. Tara barely rolled out of the way in time, with Fiona digging her heels into the steel floor. She turned towards Tara, and snarled.

"Fiona, listen to me," Tara begged, quickly moving backwards. "You don't need to do this."

"Yes, I do!" Fiona screamed, shooting towards Tara. "You need to pay!" Tara ducked underneath Fiona's fists, although this hardly stopped the angelic girl from attacking. Hovering just above the ground, Fiona continued to launch a series of punches at a rapid rate. Tara felt so stupid for leaving her sword in the truck. She knew it wouldn't be much help to her anyway, but it gave her a much needed sense of security. Feeling like she was losing ground, Tara wasted more of her energy to push Fiona away and get her some space. However, Fiona planted her heels against the floor, gliding backwards until she came to a complete stop.

"Fiona, please!" Tara shouted in vain. "You're not thinking straight!"

"I'm thinking more clearly than I have my entire life," replied Fiona. "It's all so clear now. You never cared at all! That's the game you play: you pretend to show compassion towards others just so you can tear them down! But it won't work on me anymore, you damn monster!"

"You're being brainwashed! Balle did something to your mind to make you act like this. You can stop this! I'm begging you. Please!"

"Why should I believe you!? Why should I believe anything that you say!?"

"Because it's me! Tara! Your friend! I just want to help you!"

"You liar!" Fiona screamed, launching herself towards Tara once more. Tara tried to force Fiona back, but nothing happened. She was left completely helpless against whatever her vengeful friend might do. Fiona attacked with no sense of order or strategy like she usually did. There was no tactical thinking involved whatsoever. Instead, she was driven by blind fury, letting a storm of limbs flail in every which direction.

"Please, I don't want to fight you, Fiona!" Tara screamed, desperately trying to break through. Her voice was shaky. She didn't have much energy left.

"Stop it! Stop lying to me!" Fiona yelled, continuing her onslaught. "All you ever do is lie to me, just like everyone else!"

"We can end this—"

"There is no end to this!" Fiona cried out. "Not until you suffer!"

"We're friends!" Tara begged, practically on the verge of tears. Fiona's eyes shot wide open. She growled furiously.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Friend!" shouted Fiona, punctuating each word with a punch to the head. On the fifth try, her fist finally landed with Tara's temple, sending the already-wounded girl crashing into the floor. In an instant, Fiona dove on top of her, straddling Tara's waist. She reached into her back pocket, and pulled out a thick knife. Tara was too dazed to realize what was going on.

"Just die already, you inhuman bitch!" Fiona shouted. She let out a terrible cry, as she thrust the blade towards Tara's chest.

__________

Dash started to panic. Even from within the truck, she heard Tara's screams as she was flown away. Kristov seemed to show slight sings of concern, yet Yuri's face gave no impression of worry.

"Stop the car!" Dash ordered.

"We're not stopping the car," Yuri stated.

"We're not leaving Spark behind to die."

"We have a job to do, and we're going to get it done. That's the Korbalov way."

"Bullshit. You guys do whatever the fuck you want to! Don't try to attach some flimsy moral code to this. You're fucking mercenaries."

"We keep driving. That's final."

"Yuri, go to the hanger," Kristov instructed. "Protect the client at all costs." Yuri groaned in frustration. He had no particular pleasure being at the base. There wasn't any real reason for him to show up except for the money, and he wanted to retrieve it as fast as possible. So why did there have to be so many extra rules for him to obey?

"Fine," he said with a grunt. "Let's—"

BOOOOOOOOOM

The truck shook violently, as it spun onto its side. The three souls inside were thrown about in chaotic fashion until the vehicle stopped sliding across the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" Dash exclaimed. Her body was bent forward at an uncomfortable angle, and she lost all sense of direction. She saw the door in front of her. She began kicking it sporadically, until it eventually opened with a pop. As it turned out, Dash was staring straight up into the sky, and was greeted with the calming sight of deep orange. On shaky legs, she climbed out of the turned-over truck. Quickly, she identified the source of her problem: Pinky stood outside of the silo, aiming at the truck with an RPG. Upon discovering signs of life, the blonde dashed inside of the silo, dumping her rocket launcher to the ground.

"Guys, I'm going after Pinky," Dash said to the truck. "Get this car back in order."

"Working on it," Yuri called from inside. As Dash chased after her friend, the two Korbalovs piled out of the truck. They stared at it for a few seconds, before grabbing onto it, and flipping it back over once more.

"Damn it," said Yuri. "The paint was chipped. And look at that! A dent. I hate cleaning this thing up."

"It's not too bad," Kristov said. "It'll take you a few hours. It's better than drinking the day away." The two stood in silence for a minute.

"So… should we be helping them out at all?" Yuri asked.

"We were told to fix the truck, so we fix the truck," Kristov shrugged. He reached inside the vehicle, and pulled out an ancient katana. It seemed so small in his massive hands. "Besides, there are more of those girls about. We should probably start looking for them."

"Good idea," Yuri said, turning towards the hanger. "Faster we do this, the faster we—"

Smack

A boot connected with Yuri's head, sending him to his knees. Kristov opened his mouth to speak, but was swept off his feet immediately.

"Take this you freaks of nature!" screamed Rachel, who stood over Kristov. She raised her foot high in the air, and then brought it down onto his stomach, causing him to grunt. Yuri recovered, and lunged at his foe. Yet, Rachel was quick. She performed a simple back handspring, and dodged the attack all together. Then, she grabbed ahold of Yuri's fist with one hand, and used her other arm to wrap around his neck. Spinning around, she used his weight to force his head into the side of the truck, before kneeing him in the face when he recovered.

"I knew we should have killed you when we had the chance," Rachel said to herself. "Why did they have to be so damn sympathetic? Well, I'm not making the same mistake again."

Yuri growled, and charged at Rachel. She simply smirked. She could see every move before Yuri ever made them. It was child's play to duck the right jab, and them weave around the incoming left hook, before jumping away from the knee. It was also simplistic to see that Kristov had jumped to his feet, and planned to hit her lower back in two second's time. She fell to her knees, allowing the red hand to sail over her head, and hit Yuri in the chest. She rolled backwards, falling behind Kristov, and jumped off of his back, and onto the top of the truck. She landed nearly flat on the surface, before whipping around, and delivering a sweep kick directly to Kristov's chin.

"Do you two honestly think you can hit me?" Rachel taunted. "I've been training for this for months. See these boots? They're laced with a triple-reinforced titanium/steel alloy. It's something I came up with a while back that the good doctor whipped up for me. It's practically indestructible, and given how your nervous systems haven't fully recovered, I'd say it hurts."

Rachel flipped off the truck on the opposite side, just as Yuri punched the truck in anger. It flipped up in the air, flying over Rachel's form, and landed some ten feet away. Rachel charged at her opponents, keeping as close to the ground as possible, weaving back and forth like a serpent. Yuri readied himself for another attack, but was suddenly pushed aside by Kristov. His arms began to glow, and with a yell, he slammed them into the earth. The ground cracked beneath him as a shockwave launched towards the charging woman. However, she leapt into the air, staying untouched as she delivered another kick to Kristov's face. Yuri attempted to grab her, but she sucked beneath his grasp, and a shoot her boot into his jaw. He stumbled backwards, holding onto his wounded face.

"Come on, you psychotic bastards," said Rachel. "We're only getting started."

__________

The only word Dash could use to describe the missile silo was dark. That was her first thought the moment she entered the building. In less than a second, everything had turned back, and she was left wading around in complete darkness. She knew for certain that Pinky had wandered inside, but in the darkness, it seemed like it would be near impossible to find her. Dash reached for her belt, and detached a pistol, which for once, was not actually stolen from Camelot.

"Pinky? Where are you?" Dash called out, cautiously taking one step after another. She had no idea why, but she hoped Pinky was still gullible enough to give away her position. Unfortunately, the only thing Dash ended up finding was something large and metal, which she proceeded to walk straight into. Dash yelped, and the pain in her foot only frustrated her.

"Come on, Pinky! Show yourself! We don't need anyone to get hurt here."

There was no response. There was a quick patter of footsteps to her left, but by the time Dash turned around, they had died away. Dash kept her weapon at the ready, peering into the unknown. For all she knew, Pinky was standing right behind her, ready to stab her straight in the throat.

Nah, Pinky would never do something that insanely violent, Dash tried thinking to herself. However, a very distinct memory popped into her mind. She recalled being chased by members of the Smiling Dragons, and Pinky shooting several criminals in their jugulars, watching them slowly bleed to death. Dash rescinded her hypothesis.

"Look, Pinky," Dash said, trying to sound reasonable. "Let's be reasonable hear. I don't want to hurt you. I just want to talk things out. So don't fucking stab me to death. Cool?"

The footsteps came back. However, the conditions of the room made it so that the sound echoed off of the walls, and died just as quickly as they began. With a groan, Dash pointed her gun in the air.

"Okay, listen up!" Dash stated. "If you don't come out here in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna start firing at random. I have to hit you at some point, right?"

"Wait! Don't fire!" Pinky suddenly shouted. Dash spun around, scanning the blackness for any sign of her friend. "Whatever you do, don't fire the gun!"

Dash raised an eyebrow. "Why the fuck not? Don't want to get shot in the head?"

"Think about it," Pinky said, clearly annoyed. "We're surrounded by nuclear weapons. Do I even need to explain what would happen if you fired a gun in a room like this? I think it's pretty freaking self-explanatory!"

Dash lowered her weapon. It wasn't as if she were planning on using it anyway. Her intent was to capture, never to kill. Still, she had to pause and consider what would happen to the base if twenty or so nuclear bombs all went off at the same time. However, she realized something that perhaps Pinky herself had not realized.

"So… you can't fire anything as well, right?" Dash said with a smirk. Pinky said nothing, although there were more footsteps skittering across the floor. "You don't have any weapons at all, do you?"

"Wha… what are you talking about?" Pinky asked, her voice shaking. "Of course I have weapons. What kind of idiot would I be if I didn't bring a close-range weapon into a nuclear missile silo? Heh heh heh…"

"Wow," Dash said, unable to stop herself from being amused. "This… this is the most pathetic cat-and-mouse game in the history of ever."

"Hey, don't mock me!" Pinky yelled. "At least I'm not working with the bad guys!"

"Yes, you are! That's why your stock-piling nukes! How is that a good thing?"

"It's for a good cause."

"Like what?"

"Well… Mr. Balle hasn't actually told me, but I'm sure it's good!"

"Okay, I've had enough of this," Dash said with a sigh. She put away her gun, and pulled out the metal syringe. "Can you just come out already? It's not like there's any way you can beat me in a fight."

"No way! I'm not giving up to you!"

"Well…" Dash said with a grin. "Can you at least turn on the fucking lights? Seriously, the last thing I want right now is to stub my toe and kick start World War III."

"Oh… okay, I guess," Pinky said after a minute. "The light switch is actually right next to me. Hold on a second."

Suddenly, the footsteps returned, heading to the edge of the silo. Dash couldn't believe her ears. There was no way it was happening. It was impossible. Was she actually about to do what she thought she was about to do? Dash stood still with wide eyes, waiting in anticipation.

Suddenly, the lights in the room turned on. Dash covered her eyes with her hand, allowing them to adjust. All around her, she saw nothing but storage crates full of warheads. There seemed to be a new crate every few yards. However, that was not the interesting part. What was so fascinating to Dash was that, merely ten feet away, standing behind a storage crate, was Pinky, standing happily by a light switch. Pinky smiled cheerfully, seemingly proud of her accomplishment. She opened her big, blue eyes, and gave Dash a thumbs-up.

And then, Pinky froze in fear. She looked at the light switch, and then back to Dash. Then back at the light switch. Then back to Dash. Then back at the light switch. Then at her own feet. Then back to Dash.

Dash simply sighed. "Pinky, I love you to death," she said with a soft smile. "But you have to be the biggest fucking idiot on the face of the Earth."

Immediately, Pinky hauled towards the entrance. However, Dash was much quicker. She ran at Pinky head on, sliding over the storage crate with ease. Pinky barely ran a yard before she was tackle to the ground, with Dash holding her hands behind her back. Pinky wriggled around like a worm, trying in vain to free herself.

"Get off of me!" Pinky screamed. "You won't take me alive! Do you hear me!? You can hold me down, but you'll never—"

"Shut up already," Dash groaned, using one hand to hold Pinky's head to the floor. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk way too fucking much?" Successfully holding Pinky in place, Dash carefully pressed the needle into her neck, slowly pumping in the cure. Pinky moaned in pain.

"Hey! What are you doing!? Stop that! Get off of me. I'll get you. I'll get you so hard. You'll… you'll be so…sorry that you…ever…ugh…"

Pinky fell limp on the cold, hard floor. Dash checked her pulse, hoping Celestia hadn't made a crucial error. Luckily, Pinky appeared to be very much alive. She was breathing very softly, but was otherwise just fine. Dash took a deep breath. The encounter had gone much easier than she had expected, yet she couldn't help but feel on edge. Most likely, she figured because Tara was still in danger. So, with a sigh, Dash lifted Pinky up over her shoulders, and ventured out of the silo to find her troubled friend.

__________

The Korbalovs were known to be an unstoppable force of nature. They were not only infamous for the sheer brutality of their actions, but their capabilities to accomplish any task asked of them. They could never be killed, nor beaten. Any such accusation would surely result in the painful demise of the doubter. At least, this is what Yuri believed in his heart. So, his frustration was understandable when he was booted in the jaw of a twelfth time.

"Still too slow!" Rachel shouted as she jumped away from Yuri's fist. Yuri growled.

"Why won't you just stay still?" he bellowed, trying unsuccessfully to land a hit. Rachel smirked as she sidestepped Yuri's punch, rolled along the length of his arm, and jabbed him in the throat before ducking away. She took calm, collected breaths as she surveyed the environment.

Keep it up, Rachel thought to herself. A few more strikes should do it.

Rachel had never fully appreciated her Macer abilities before. Of course, when she was coping with her blindness, it was certainly splendid to have the ability to see. But after that extensive period, she had never gotten a true chance to use her powers for much other than dancing. However, now faced against the Brothers of Chaos, the very same people whose torture had made her life such a living hell in the first place, she felt almost like a super hero. It seemed very much so as she bounced off of foes, dodged every incoming blow with relative ease, and faced clearly sadistic opponents.

The thought caused Rachel to smirk. She was a superhero. Wasn't that something to be proud of? It was a true achievement if she ever saw one.

Just as this thought occurred, she saw Kristov charging up his arms in the corner of her vision. Even though her glass eyes stared aimlessly at the floor, she could clearly see that she was about to be attacked from two separate angles. At once, she dashed in Kristov's direction, zig-zagging to make herself a harder target. As she approached, time seemed to slow down. She clearly saw Kristov's intention of swinging towards her head, so she dove towards him feet first, sliding beneath his legs. During which, Rachel rolled onto her stomach, and took a deep breath. The moment she passed through his legs, Rachel rolled her legs backwards over her head, and using her palms for leverage, rose to her feet. She quickly delivered a swift kick to the back of Kristov's knee, and when he fell down in pain, she spun and delivered another kick to the side of his head. Sensing Yuri charging from behind, Rachel grabbed onto Kristov's shoulders, and used him as a springboard to get away from the battle.

"Dammit, she's slippery," Yuri muttered. He helped his brother to his feet.

"This obviously isn't working out for us," Kristov stated. "We need another approach."

"We only have the one approach. Unless you want me to shoot her down. I'd like to see her dodge bullets…"

"I have an idea, but it's risky," Kristov said. "It could blow up the base if uncontrolled."

"You're not thinking of—"

"Yes. I am. Just give me enough time to charge up. Sixty seconds, probably."

Yuri smirked. "I can do that. Sixty seconds is nothing."

"Are you sluts going to talk to each other, or are you going to fight?" Rachel sneered. "Clearly, that's all you nonintellectual brutes know how to do anyway."

Suddenly, Yuri stopped being frustrated. Something about being taunted by such a young creature seemed so ridiculous to him that he immediately lost all sense of tension. Once again, everything seemed like a game.

And Yuri liked games.

"Tell me, girl," Yuri said, taking slow steps towards his foe. "Do you really want to have your eyes ripped out again?"

Rachel growled. "It won't be my eyes, you son of a bitch."

Reminded of her intense hatred, Rachel sprinted towards Yuri at a relentless pace. Yuri crouched down, waiting in anticipation for Rachel to strike. Based on her low stance, he suspected a low attack; in all likelihood, she was going to sweep his legs. However, at the last possible moment, Rachel stopped short, and jumped high into the air, drawing back her leg. Yuri was barely able to lean back in time to avoid being hit with the Brit's reinforced boot. Her foot sailed inches away from his face, and she was forced to bend at an odd angle in order to land properly.

However, Rachel recovered with great speed, and instantly turned her failed roundhouse into a devastating sweep. Yet this time, Rachel wrapped her right leg around Yuri's left, and rotated onto her stomach. The sudden shift in momentum forced the already off-balanced Yuri to the floor. Rachel rolled out from underneath him just before he landed, and she jumped back to her feet. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Kristov kneeling over, with his hands placed on the ground. She saw a bright red pulsating from his arms. She became instantly frightened. She knew full well what those arms were capable of, and she refused to let anything of the sort happen to her.

"Oh, no you don't!" Rachel shouted, beginning to run after Kristov. Yet in her fear, she failed to notice that Yuri had gotten off of the floor. Without any warning, she was picked up, and held in place by two power arms.

"There we go," Yuri said happily. "We finally got you to hold still."

Suddenly, Rachel went into overdrive. Feeling his hands holding onto her body, having him actually make contact with her was sickening. The pain began to flow back to her. She remembered every fist that landed with her face. She perfectly recalled every single knife wound, all of which continued to haunt her form. But most importantly, she remembered what it felt like when Yuri had reached into skull, and tore her eyes away. Even after she said everything she knew, he still went on tormenting her, ripping out her other eye for good measure.

She would never face such pain again.

Like a wild animal, Rachel screamed. Using all of her strength, Rachel swung all of her mass to the ground. Once Yuri leaned forward to compensate, she viciously snapped her head backwards, feeling the cracking of bone behind her. She fell to the ground, feeling more relieved than she had her entire life. By this point, she didn't care about taunting the Korbalovs anymore. All she wanted was to make them truly suffer. She screamed again as she lunged backwards, and punched Yuri directly in the face. His flesh felt like steel, but she battered away at him in a blind rage. She could feel him buckling beneath her strikes, growing weaker with every hit. Once she finally felt like he was wounded enough, she tackled him to the ground. With her newly gained vantage point, she started to pummel the younger Korbalov into submission.

"Do you like how this feels!?" Rachel shouted furiously, punching without end. "Do you like making people suffer!? Well now you're going to suffer! You'll pay for what you've done. I'll cut your eyes out! I'll cut your tongue out! I won't stop until you're just a bleeding mass of flesh! This is for ruining my life! This is for taking everything away from me! This is—"

CRASH

Before Rachel knew what was happening, Kristov slammed his fists into the ground, sending tremors out through the earth. Yuri and Rachel were immediately launched into the air, sailing several dozen feet before colliding into the hard concrete. While Yuri's hardened muscles prevented him from receiving no more than a few scratches, Rachel had no such luxury. As she tumbled across the floor, her foot snapped violently to the side, and jagged slabs of concrete cut deep into her flesh. When she finally came to a halt, she barely had the energy to move. All that she could identify was intense pain. In desperation, she tried to crawl back to the command center. She needed to warn AJ and Matthew. She needed their help. She was going to die. She was going to face hell again. She knew she wouldn't be able to handle it.

However, her journey stopped short when she felt a large boot step on her hand. She looked up in fear, and saw the Kristov's shadow looming over her. Suddenly, she knew that she was facing the last moments of her life. This was truly the end for her.

And then, she felt something prick into her neck. She thought it was a very strange thing to happen indeed, before everything turned black.

__________

Tara's arms were firmly crossed above her head. With every passing moment, she felt herself growing weaker. The only thing that motivated her to keep fighting was the blade dangling inches above of her face.

Fiona gritted her teeth together. She was so close that she could taste it. All it needed to be was a few more inches. Tara was already waning, and it would be so simplistic to end her life right now if she truly wanted. And yet, something kept holding her back. For whatever reason, she felt like she was unable to finish the job. It was almost as if some part of her brain was telling her that she wasn't supposed to kill Tara.

Unfortunately, this only infuriated Fiona more. Why was she having doubts now? Why was the concept of mercy suddenly appearing in her mind? Did Tara do this to her? Was it just more of her twisted thoughts seeping their way into Fiona's head. Fiona decided that yes, it had to be that. It was all Tara's fault. It was her fault for everything that was wrong. But Fiona would not let anyone else be manipulated by Tara's cruel and evil ways. With newly found determination, Fiona pushed down on Tara's arms even harder than before, using her leverage to her advantage.

Tara felt her arms snap back down into place. The steel of the blade rested just above her eye. If she made even the slightest movement, she would surely be stabbed. She looked all around, desperately searching for something to help her. Alas, all she could see in the hanger were trucks and tanks, most of which many yards away. But then, as her hope was fading, she spotted something in the far end of the hanger: a weapons locker. All she needed to do was get to it, and maybe, she could stay alive for just a little longer.

"Fiona," Tara said, struggling under the weight. "I just want you to know… I'm sorry for anything that I've done to hurt you."

"You're lying!" Fiona growled, raising her arms high in the air. The knife glistened in the dying sunlight that shone through the hanger. With one final strike, Fiona brought down the blade as hard as she could towards Tara's head.

However, Tara was waiting for this. Mere seconds before the knife made contact, Tara rolled her upper body to her left. The blade bounced off the ground behind Tara's head with a clang. Taking advantage of the missed attack, Tara wrapped her right arm around Fiona's, and pulled her legs close to her chest. With a great push, Tara flung Fiona as far away as possible, and stumbled to her feet. She heard Fiona muttering to herself in anger, and realizing she did not have much time to waste, she sprinted towards the locker.

Tara felt nauseous, surely a side effect from overuse of her powers. She had no idea how she even found the strength to keep moving forward. The injuries from the previous nights were ungratefully reminding her of their presence. Still, she had to push onwards. She heard Fiona screaming; the cry sounded like that of a banshee. Tara saw the creature swoop past her on the right, flying at incredible speed. Then, a dozen feet away, Fiona spun around, and dove at Tara, brandishing her blade. With both hands on the hilt, Fiona brought her hands out to her side, and forcefully swung at a sharp angle. Luckily for Tara, she was just able to duck underneath the blade, and continued running at full speed. Fiona came to a sudden halt as her feet connected with the ground, and then she launched herself backwards. Tara glanced backwards to see that Fiona was gaining ground.

"Get over here, you stupid bitch!" Fiona screamed as she approached. However, before she could get within striking distance, Tara had spun around, and grabbed onto her arm. Using what she knew about circular momentum, Tara grabbed onto Fiona's arm, and launched her forward. Fiona crashed back first into a tank several yards away. At last, Tara had a golden opportunity. She legs were shaky, and she felt like she was going to be sick, but she was almost to the locker. She heard Fiona groaning in agony from far away. She still had time.

The instant Tara reached the weapons locker, she slammed into it at full force, knocking it open. Her eyes scanned around for anything that she could use. Much to her satisfaction, she found a 9 millimeter handgun resting at the bottom of the locker. She grabbed the pistol, and whipped around to aim it at her target.

However, Fiona wasn't there anymore. Before Tara realized what was going on, she felt two arms wrap around her neck, and drag her to the floor. Fiona knelt behind her with a gleeful look on her face.

"Got you now," said the deranged youth. "This will be nice and slow; a few drawn-out minutes of complete agony. I think you deserve that."

Tara groaned, and then reached upwards, placing the gun to Fiona's chin.

"I don't think so," Tara stated, her voice dry. "You're going to let me go now, or I'll splatter your brains all over the wall. It's your choice."

Fiona paused for a moment, looking downwards at the gun. Tara's finger was already resting on the trigger, and based on the expression she wore, she did not seem to be messing around. After all, Tara was an evil person, so it would only make sense of her to murder someone in cold blood. That did seem most logical. Based on all of the evidence, Fiona came to one conclusion.

Fiona started to laugh. It was an honest, sincere chuckle that seemed so out of place at the moment that Tara was left perplexed.

"Really? Is that supposed to frighten me?" Fiona asked through her chuckles. "Please, Tara. We both know you won't shoot me. You won't shoot anyone. You're too much of a coward to do anything like that. Next time you make empty threats, make sure your opponent doesn't know everything about you."

Tara began to panic. Her bluff had failed horrendously. She could feel the life being drained out of her body, slowly being leached away. If that wasn't bad enough, Fiona suddenly began to fly, lifting Tara high into the ceiling. Gravity shifted her weight downwards, only increasing the pressure of Fiona's choke.

"Isn't this much better?" Fiona taunted. She talked in a laugh, but something in her voice gave way to pure hatred. "You are afraid of heights, after all. There isn't a better place for you to die in the world. Tell me… how long were you going to wait? How many more months was it going to be before you made your final move, leave us all in the dust? How much longer were you planning on draining the life from us before you got bored?"

Tara gagged, unable to respond.

"You're awful, you know. Really, you're probably the worst person I've ever met. I'm being merciful here, allowing you to choke to death. I could have made you suffer for months like you made me. You should be bowing at my feet, thanking me."

Tara stared at Fiona's arms. She knew she had once final chance to free herself. Unfortunately, it would be a very long fall to the ground.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look?" Fiona asked, feigning sincerity. "It's truly a shame such looks are wasted on such a terrible personality."

Shlkk

Fiona screamed in horror as Tara suddenly bit into her arm. Tara tasted the blood flowing over her lips, but continued to bite down regardless. Fiona flew around erratically, trying to shake Tara off. In one fell swoop, Fiona slammed into a light fixture, sending her spiraling out of control. Tara was dropped from the sky only a yard above the ground, while Fiona ended up colliding into a truck, causing her wings to retract back into her body. The pair lied twenty feet apart from each other. Neither of them moved. Time passed by slowly.

Finally, Tara started to recover from the fall. From yards away, she heard Fiona groaning. Both girls rose to their feet on trembling legs, falling over on occasion. Tara looked at Fiona pitifully. The poor girl appeared to have broken her arm from the fall, as she held it very close to her chest. With her other hand, she dragged herself up, using the truck as support. Even though they were practically fighting to the death, Tara entered a state of worrying.

"Fiona?" she called out, fearful for her friend. She began to walk towards Fiona, taking careful steps to make sure that she didn't pass out. "Are you alright? Fiona, can you talk to me? I need to make sure your—"

Click

Tara instantly froze. Fiona had extended her "broken" arm, revealing Tara's gun. She was wearing a devious smirk.

"Don't move," she said, failing to hide the pain in her voice. "Don't you dare take another step closer."

Tara slowly raised her arms in front of her, a sign of surrender.

"Put the gun down, Fiona," Tara said calmly. "Don't do anything rash."

"Rash?" Fiona asked, insultingly. "This is all for justice. This will make things right with the world. All it would take is a second, and balance will be restored."

"Look, Fiona—"

"Don't say my name!" Fiona snapped. "You don't deserve to say my name! You don't deserve anything except pain and death."

Tara sighed. "I… I know you hate me right now. I understand. I hate myself too. But trust me… if you pull that trigger, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"Liar! That's another one of your tricks, making me think things that are only hurtful. I should kill you right now!"

Tara thought about this for a moment. She spoke softly. "Then why haven't you done it yet?"

Fiona froze. She was completely shocked. What was Tara talking about? Was it just more tricks? It had to be, right?

But Tara knew what she had said hit something in Fiona's mind. Her real mind. Slowly, she began to walk forward. Fiona snapped out of her state of shock, and refocused her aim.

"Don't take another step!" she ordered. Yet Tara marched forward, closing the gap one step at a time.

"Go ahead… kill me," Tara said dryly. "If you really want to do it so bad, go ahead. You have a gun, so do it. Shoot me right now, before I get any closer."

"I… I will," Fiona stammered, the gun trembling in her hands.

"Then why are you hesitating?" Tara asked. "You could have killed a dozen times before. You could have snapped my neck, or dropped me from the sky, or at least tried something to end my life faster. But you didn't. Why is that?"

"I… I needed to make you suffer," Fiona answered, sounding unsure. "I wanted to make it last."

"Maybe you didn't want to do it at all," Tara stated. "Maybe there's still some part of you left inside, fighting to keep me alive. Maybe you never wanted to kill anyone at all. Maybe… you still care about me."

Fiona didn't know what to say. Her head was starting to hurt. Tara was only ten feet away, and getting closer still. She was bluffing, she had to be. It was the only way. But what if she wasn't? What if she really did care? Her mind felt like a battlefield, and she didn't know which side was good or which was evil. She just wanted it all to stop.

"No," Fiona said softly. Then, more confidently, she yelled, "No! Shut up! I hate you. I hate everything about you! You're mean and ignorant and cruel, and I hate you! All you ever try to do is break me, just like everyone else in the world!"

"I know," Tara said, soothingly. "I know I'm an awful person. I know I'm stupid and selfish and… well, everything. And I certainly know you deserve a better friend than me."

"Shut up… shut up…"

"But I know that we are friends. And I know that you would never want to hurt any of your friends. That just isn't you, Fiona."

"You're lying…"

"Please, Fiona," Tara said. She was less than a yard away now. Carefully, she placed both hands onto the barrel of the gun. "Fiona… we both know you don't want to kill me. It's all over now."

Fiona was in a full state of panic. Nothing was making sense to her. Half of her mind was screaming to finish the job, pull the trigger, end it all before she was hurt again. But the other half of her mind as begging for her to put down the gun before she did something horrible that she would never forgive herself for. Who was she supposed to listen to? Everything came and went in waves. She was losing all sense of self. She lost control of her body. Her mind was a wasteland. Why were tears rolling down her cheeks. What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to do? She never wanted to hurt Tara. Tara was her friend. But then why did she want to kill her? She wanted it all to stop. She was praying for it to end. She just wanted to be left alone, or be surrounded by friends, or both, or neither. Everything seemed to just be one big blur.

And then, reality came back to her. Tara was holding onto the barrel of a gun, looking at her sorrowfully. From there, the choice was obvious. Fiona slowly pointed the gun towards the ground, and then lunged into Tara's arms. She let her pain flow out in the form of sobs, as Tara soothingly rubbed her arm.

"Oh God… oh God, I'm sorry," Fiona said weakly into Tara's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shh," Tara whispered. "It's okay. No one's hurt. It's all over."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything, I swear. I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay, Fiona. It's all okay now," Tara spoke softly. She allowed Fiona to cry herself out for a few more seconds, feeling the girl's heavy sobs against her shoulder. Then, Tara used her free hand to reach into her back pocket, pull out the syringe, and stick it into Fiona's neck. The angelic girl barely noticed anything through her cries. Soon, she murmured something unintelligible into Tara's neck, and passed out. Tara carefully lowered her to the ground, comfortable laying her head against the truck.

"Spark! You in here!?" cried Dash from the entrance.

"Over here!" Tara called. Dash jogged over to her friend, taking note of the damaged hanger.

"Jesus Christ, what went on in here?" asked Dash. Suddenly, she took note of Fiona lying against the truck. "Ms. Angel did this?"

"Yeah," Tara said with a nod. Dash sighed.

"Man, that girl is going to turn into a psychopath one day," Dash stated. "Pinky and Rachel are dealt with. The guys are loading them into their truck. That worked out better than expected."

"But we still have a lot of stuff to do," Tara said sadly. "Balle is still out there, and so is AJ."

"We'll handle it just fine. Oh, that reminds me…" Dash reached around her back and removed the black sheathe which she was wearing. She handed it to Tara, who smiled as she removed her sword.

"Thanks, Dash. I really need to stop leaving this behind all the time."

"Get on it," Dash said with a chuckle. "Come on, let's get back to the others. We'll come up with a plan or something."

"And by 'we', you mean I, correct?"

"Now you're getting it."

Tara sighed. She glanced back at Fiona, sleeping soundly against the truck. Even though her head still ached and her body was still weak, she was somehow assured by this that everything would turn out alright. She had absolutely no idea why she thought this, but it comforted her, and so she did not question it. With a smile of confidence, she jogged to the door of the hanger with Dash.

"We're going to need to take a break," Tara said as she reached the exit. "I don't know about you, but I can barely—"

Smack

Tara flew backwards, landing against the hard ground with a thud. Dash opened her mouth to scream, but felt an arm wrap around her, and throw her to the ground as well. Dash looked up in panic. A girl her age stood over her, holding two machete blades. Her skin was tan, her blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and she wore a Stetson atop her head.

"So," AJ said calmly. "Where do you two think you're going?"

To Be Continued…

Chapter 12: An End to All Things (What Truly Matters)

Chapter 12: An End to All Things

Part 3 of 3: What Truly Matters

"Do y'all have any idea what you've done by coming here?"

Dash wiped the blood from her lips. It was almost funny; she hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps AJ had thrown her to the ground a bit harder than she thought, or perhaps it had always been like that. It wasn't important. What was important, however, was that she could still smirk. And so, she immediately let the words flow from her lips.

"I'm assuming proved to the world yet again that we're insurmountable bad-asses," said Dash. "I mean, really AJ? You managed to get a whole squad of lunatics to help you, and we still kicked your ass. That's real pathetic."

"You talk too much," AJ groaned. Dash wiped the blood from her nose, and groggily stood up.

"Yeah, that's just one of my many quirks, ain't it?" she taunted. "Big fucking mouth I have."

AJ scowled. "I don't have time for this bullshit. You two shouldn't be here."

"Of course not," Dash said, her smile fading. "Not with a psychopath about to jumpstart World War Three. You wouldn't want anyone to stop that, would you?"

"Just stop talking for a moment, will ya?" said AJ, a hint of desperation in her voice. "Look… you two are in way over yer heads. I get your being assigned to do this. I really do. But you can't be here right now. I'm going to give you one last chance: take your friends, and walk out of here alive, before somethin' bad happens."

"Something bad?" Dash growled, quickly turning hostile. "How about killing millions of fucking people who did nothing wrong to you!? Is that bad? How the fuck could you do this to us, AJ? Do have any idea of how many people you're willing to hurt!? Think about it!"

"Dash, it's okay," Tara interrupted. Using her sword as leverage, she hoisted herself from the floor. Dash nearly gasped at the sight. Tara had cut herself across the eye, causing a stream of blood to run down her pale cheek. Her hair fell in a tangled mess along her shoulders, and she wobbled as she stood. It was instantly clear that only some intangible force was keeping her aloft.

But for Tara, it was quite clear what was keeping her standing. It was her drive, the everlasting push that forced her to keep fighting. It no longer mattered that her body was broken. She had a friend to save. And, luckily, she knew just how to do it.

"AJ, you're being mind-controlled," Tara stated calmly. "I can't blame you for following your father. I can't blame you for hating the world. But, I know that this isn't what you want. I think you know it too. You have the power to stop this right now. I've seen it. You don't have to something you'll regret. Please, AJ… come with us. We can take down The Unknown, and end all of this."

"No!" AJ suddenly snapped. "No one is going to hurt him! None of you understand us! He's an innocent man whose been wronged far too many times to die like a rat!"

"Open your eyes!" Tara pleaded. "He's tried to kill you. He's tried to kill all of us. That man is the reason we're here right now. He's the reason my brother and sister are dead. You're speaking his words that have been forced into your skull. You've been blinded to the truth."

"I'm not blind," AJ stated furiously. "I've never seen anything more clearly. You are not going to harm him, Tara."

"Then what!?" screamed Dash. "You're just gonna kill us now when we can barely fight back?"

"No! Nobody has to die!" AJ shouted defensively. "I don't want to harm anyone. You're my friends, too. Just leave, and everything will be okay."

"And watch the world burn?" Dash growled. "I'd rather die."

"Face it, AJ," Tara said sternly. With a burning intensity, she raised her sword, and pointed it towards her former friend. "We're not leaving. I'm done playing games. You have a choice, whether you know it or not. Help us kill your father, or be put down."

AJ held out her blades in front of her face. She begged, "I don't want to do this to you."

"Then help us."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can!"

"Just please leave."

"We're not going to surrender the world for the sake of our own lives!"

"Please, Tara! Just get out of here before something happens to you!"

Tara stared at AJ in shock. For a brief moment, she thought she saw tears running down AJ's face. Maybe they were real, maybe they weren't. It didn't matter. What did matter was AJ's voice. For all the months Tara had known her, AJ was a confident person, never failing to speak her mind. She carried around such an unmistakable confidence that she seemed to inspire everyone around her to act the same. But this wasn't the same AJ standing before her. AJ seemed afraid. She had her teeth gritted together, she looked down at her own hands in fear, and she kept trembling uncontrollably. For once in her life, AJ didn't seem to know what to do. For all Tara knew, AJ was about to be attack at any moment, or break down into sobs. Either thought made Tara hesitate, as she wondered just what The Unknown had done to his own daughter's mind.

But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except finishing Matthew Balle, and AJ was standing in the way of that.

"We're not going," Tara sighed. "We will never give up. That's part of being a soldier. I'm sure someone like you will understand."

AJ looked at Tara with pity. Regretfully, hatefully, she lowered her weapon. She sighed deeply, unwilling to look Tara in the face.

"Then I'm sorry."

AJ launched forward at blistering speed. Tara had no time to react. Within seconds, AJ was in the air, falling towards Tara with her blades extended outwards. Tara tried to jump out of the way, but realized AJ was moving too fast.

Whoosh

AJ was sent flying to the side, rolling onto her stomach. Dash smirked at Tara as she rotated her shoulder around its joint.

"Are you just gonna stand there like a fucking idiot, Spark?" taunted Dash. "Move your scrawny ass, and let's take down this bitch."

"Sorry," Tara said hastily. She and Dash raised their arms in defense, watching AJ intently as she clawed on the ground. "You are aware that we just need to shove that needle in her neck for a minute right?"

"Of course," Dash said with a grin. "I'm not an idiot. Want me to grab the big guys?"

"No time," Tara said sadly. "We can't risk this going alone. In case you don't know, none of us have actually beaten AJ in a fight. Last time I tried—"

"You ended up with a bruise the size of your forehead. I remember it fondly."

"Feel free to make jokes at my expense after we've saved our friend from mind control."

"Deal."

AJ sprung to her feet. She growled. Why did her friends always have to make things so complicated? Didn't they know what was good for them? She knew that she couldn't let them get near her father, that much was certain. Her options had dwindled. It appeared that she did not have much of a choice. She wouldn't kill them, she decided. However, she would certainly have to make them hurt.

Dash swooped in from the side. At once, she unleashed a series of volleys towards AJ's face. Each punch was thrown quicker than the last, and AJ found it increasingly hard to dodge. For Dash, this was a very good thing indeed. She had to be the faster warrior for Tara's sake. She couldn't let up for a single moment. However, while AJ couldn't find a moment to strike back, dodging was not as difficult. To say the least, Dash was very predictable, and despite the fact that she moved in a blur, AJ was generally good at predicting where the blows would end up. As such, AJ weaved back and forced, occasionally resorting to stepping over her own feet and twirling about, forming almost a dance between her and her opponent.

But soon, Dash's stamina started to dwindle. However, for once, she expected this. The moment she began to feel tired, she jumped backwards, allowing Tara to rush in and take a quick strike with her sword. AJ parried the blade effectively, following up with a swipe at Tara's waist. But Dash quickly reached forward, grabbed AJ's arms, and carried her momentum to fling her away. AJ refused to let that happen. She jammed her feet into the pavement, took ahold of Dash's arm, and twisted it sharply before slamming her to the floor.

Tara lunged forward, the spark reignited inside of her. She may have been outmatched, but she was certainly more motivated to fight. She swung aggressively, never letting AJ get a spare moment. The hanger became filled with the sound of clanging metal, as sparks burst like firecrackers.

"Fight it off!" Tara shouted, as her katana became interlocked with AJ' machetes. "It worked with Fiona. It can work for you."

"There's nothing for me to fight," AJ replied sternly. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Your father has the power to brainwash people! He's tried to make our friends kill us! Don't you think that maybe he did the same to you?"

"I…" AJ stammered. Instead of answering, she yelled. She interlocked her leg with Tara's, and with one careful shift, forced her to the ground. Yet before she could truly capitalize, Dash returned with more vigor than ever before. She attempted to swipe away at least one of AJ's swords, but found that the long-time agent was very protective of her weaponry. She was forced to keep dodging as AJ focused all of her attention on getting both girls grounded, Of course, by doing this, Tara was allowed to rise once more, and AJ soon found herself balancing opponents on both sides.

Tara and Dash worked together rhythmically. They periodically took turns lunging in for quick strikes and defensively retreating. By the time AJ ad finished blocking a katana with one blade, she had to hold Dash back with the other. It was only made worse by the fact that she had no intention of killing either of the girls. She was certain that if she really wanted to, she could slit Dash's throat in a matter of seconds. It would not be difficult; Dash kept leaning in on her right hooks, making it very simple to outpace her and shove a blade through Dash's neck. Yet she knew that was not an option. They were still her friends, after all. It felt bitter having to fight them like this. It was such a shame that she didn't have a choice.

Tara had not known why AJ had ceased to move, but she took advantage of it quickly. Tara flipped around her sword, and jammed the hilt into AJ's midsection. AJ groaned, and quickly stepped away from the fight, holding onto her abs. In a flash, Dash delivered a swift blow to her jaw, catching her off-guard. Sensing a chance to finish the battle, Tara charged forward, raising her sword high in the air. She had to be precise; the slightest mistake could lead to very bloody consequences. Holding her breath to steady herself, Tara thrust the blade towards AJ's right hand. With perfect accuracy, the katana slipped beneath AJ's grip, and with one sharp twist of her wrist, the blade went sailing across the room. AJ was rapidly losing control of the situation. She attempted to return to the offensive, but Dash moved much faster. It only took but a moment to wrap her arms around AJ's chest, locking her arms at her sides and rendering her unable to fight.

"Spark, move it!" Dash ordered, holding on for dear life. AJ struggled intensely, and despite Dash's immense strength, the rebellious youth was not sure how long she could hold on. Luckily, Tara knew exactly what to do. She pulled out the metal syringe from her back pocket, and carefully slid it into AJ's neck. AJ screamed in pain as the serum slowly filled her vein, sending shockwaves down her spine. Despite the discomfort of watching her friend in such agony, Tara couldn't help but smile. At last, she could stop worrying about her friends' safety. Once AJ was unconscious, she could focus solely on stopping The Unknown. She could practically feel the relief washing over her as the last of the cure entered AJ's bloodstream. Soon, AJ would stop struggling, and it would be over.

But AJ didn't stop struggling. Instead, she howled like a wounded animal, and kicked Tara square in the jaw. She broke free of Dash's grasp right afterwards, and head-butted her friend for good measure. Rolling to her feet, she kicked Dash far away, as she held up her other sword in preparation for attack.

"Uh, Spark?" Dash said in panic. "What the hell's going on?"

"I… I don't know," Tara responded, equally fearful. "It… it shouldn't be taking this long…"

"What the hell did you girls just do to me?" AJ asked through closed teeth. With her free hand, she gently rubbed her neck. She let out a gasp of pain.

"This doesn't make any sense," Tara stated. "She should have passed out by now. The cure should have caused a shift in her brainwave frequency to render her unconscious—"

"You drugged me!?" AJ screamed furiously. She charged at Tara, fighting through the pain. Tara barely rolled underneath the blade aimed at her neck.

"So is she invincible to that shit?" Dash asked.

"Can't be, at least I don't think," Tara replied honestly, running over to Dash's position. "Once the drug entered her, the alteration in her mind would knock her out. That's what would happen if her thoughts were—"

Suddenly, Tara froze in fear. It couldn't be possible. It simply couldn't, yet it was the only explanation.

"AJ… how?" Tara asked, feeling ill. "How would you betray us!? How could you want to damn so many innocent people!?"

"I'm doin' what I have to do!" AJ replied angrily.

"You… you traitor…" Tara muttered under her breath.

"Spark, details," Dash said worriedly. Tara turned to her, fear and hatred radiating off of her.

"The cure didn't work properly because there was nothing to cure," Tara explained. "AJ was never brainwashed by her father… she's doing this all willingly."

"Of course I am!" said AJ. "What was I supposed to do? Kill 'em? After everythin' that's been done to hurt us? Did you think I would need to be under mind control to know the difference between right and wrong!?"

"Goddamnit," Dash swore. "What the hell are we supposed to do now? We can't really fight her, can we?"

"You sure as hell better try!" AJ screamed, as she charged towards her comrades. Her head was killing her. Whatever they had meant to do, it certainly felt awful. It seemed like her head would explode at any given moment. She was driven by a fury which she was not sure belonged to her. Was it the drug's fault? Was it driving her mad? She no longer knew why she was fighting, or who she was fighting, or just what the entailed. Yet in her deranged state, she saw everything around her as an enemy.

And AJ killed her enemies.

AJ swung wildly with her remaining blade, taking several seconds to wind up each blow. She kept screaming like mad as she swung her sword. Tara and Dash rolled away from each other, trying to keep AJ surrounded. However, the southern girl refused to let this get to her again. She focused solely on Dash, pushing her back into the wall of the hanger.

"Okay, you psychotic cowgirl fuck," Dash said with a fearful laugh. "Now that I know you really want to kill me, I guess I can finally stop holding back. By the way, you're hat looks so fucking stupid that I can't even believe it."

"Stop with the fucking jokes already!" AJ responded, shooting out her leg. Dash ducked as the boot broke through the wall of the hanger, resulting in a loud crash. Dash rolled to AJ's back, but the southerner whipped around and kicked Dash in the jaw, sending her stumbling back into Tara's grasp.

"AJ's freaking out," Tara stated. "I… I think that cure is screwing with her mind. She's stuck in a perpetual state of rage. I don't think talking her out of this is an option anymore."

"So we kill her, right?" Dash asked. "I mean, she's trying to destroy us all. We have no reason not to kill her."

Tara groaned in frustration. Dash was right, and she knew it full well. The same sense of denial was washing over her as it did when AJ had first attacked her. It almost didn't seem real that AJ would do something like this. Yet all the evidence was staring her in the face. AJ had made her choice. One of the most trustworthy people that she knew had turned her back on her friends, and agreed to participate in planned genocide. There should not have been more that was needed to be said. There was no excuse for her; even if AJ was to be brought back alive, she would be forced in a federal prison for crimes against humanity. Really, there seemed to be no other option.

But Tara was held back by her rationality. She couldn't do it; she would never kill her friends, no matter what they had turned into. She would just have to figure out something else, she realized. All of it would start with getting AJ out of her state of fury, and under control.

"Dash, when I give the word, charge straight on," Tara ordered.

"Master plan?"

"Master plan."

Dash shrugged, and took off immediately. She approached AJ with absolutely zero caution, pulling back her fist. AJ snarled, and swung her blade high at Dash's face. However, Dash slid directly underneath the blow, allowing Tara to jump up in the air, and swing her foot around at AJ's head. For a moment, AJ was completely stunned.

And then, she wasn't. AJ furiously grabbed onto Tara's leg, and swung her into the pavement. Dash attempted to retaliate, but her fist was grabbed easily, and soon she too was on the floor in agony.

"All you two ever do is interfere with my plans!" AJ bellowed. "All you had to do was leave! Was that so fucking complicated!? I ought'a—"

Suddenly, AJ was launched several yards backwards into the hard wall as vibrations shook the ground. Out of nowhere, Yuri charged at AJ's disabled form.

"Hey bitch!" he said with a smirk. "I believe we have a dance to finish!" All AJ could detect was something large moving quickly towards her. It was by pure instinct that she knew to hit the floor, allowing the massive fist to sail over her head. Yuri never let up, unleashing a barrage of attacks as fast as she could. Unfortunately, he had taken too many blows during his fight with Rachel, and so his speed was anything but fast. Even in AJ's stunned and confused state of mind, she still dodged all of his strikes. As the two warriors entered a constant rhythm, Kristov made his way over to Tara and Dash, who watched the ordeal unfold before their eyes.

"You two need to go," Kristov stated, pulling the girls to their feet. "We'll take care of your friends."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" said Dash. "We can all work together on this."

"You girls have too much restraint," Kristov said calmly. "In the later stages of the fight, it will hold you back. We can take care of her with no such problem."

"But we can't beat Balle by ourselves," Tara said worriedly.

"And my brother cannot fight your friend on his own. We're both wounded. I understand your dilemma, but you girls will have to try. We'll help out as soon as we can."

Yuri screamed from several yards away. He stumbled backwards, clutching a bloody jaw.

"You've gotten better," he said with a snicker. "You're much stronger now than before. I find those traits very admirable in women."

"Don't ya fucking talk to me!" AJ hollered, letting loose an onslaught on the younger Korbalov. Kristov growled.

"What are you two waiting for? Go, now! You've wasted enough time as it is!"

Tara opened her mouth to say something. She knew it was her duty to protest. How could she be expected to leave her friend's life in the hand of maniacs? Why would she possibly trust the Korbalovs in anything they said? She knew that she needed to help make sure AJ was taken care of before her father could even be considered as a threat. It was truly the only correct thing to do.

However, it all meant nothing as Dash grabbed onto her arm, and yanked her towards the exit.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Tara screamed in frustration. "You're not leaving AJ behind, are you!?" Dash ignored Tara entirely, speaking directly to Kristov.

"Make sure you don't kick her ass too much," she said. "Even if she is a bloodthirsty psychopath, I'd rather have her head not get caved in."

Kristov nodded, and quickly ran off to join his brother. Tara was in such shock at Dash's behavior that she did not physically protest at first. It wasn't until she was struck with the gleaming light of a dying sunset that she shook herself free.

"Are you trying to piss me off?" Tara asked bitterly.

"Kristov's got a point," Dash said, a hint of urgency in her voice. "Think about it: neither of us have anything close to the drive AJ had back there. I'm not gonna let you go and kill yourself because you want to help AJ get her head together."

"And so is this really the alternative? Run off to fight Balle without any backup?"

"If Balle knows we're here to stop the launch, and he knows what happened to his 'lackeys', then do you actually think that he'll wait any longer to attack?" Dash retorted. "Face it. We're running out of time, and as far as we know, Balle is going to flip his shit and destroy the world at any moment, especially if he finds out his daughter was taken down."

"That's… not unreasonable," Tara said grudgingly. The situation as slipping away from her faster with each prolonged moment. Logic stated that she go back and assist the Korbalovs, and then take on The Unknown as a unit. However, the possibility of Dash being right lingered far more prominently than it should have. What if fighting AJ really proved to be too much? What if it distracted her so badly that she caused someone to get hurt? What if she actually was on an ever decreasing timer? Of course, logic should have presented such thoughts as ludicrous. Still, there was always a chance.

"Come on, Spark," Dash said, her voice softer. "Trust me on this. We need to move now."

Perhaps too much blood had drained from her head, or perhaps she was far more tired than she realized. Perhaps she was having a panic attack, or perhaps Dash had rubbed off on her more than she wanted. It didn't matter what the reason was. What did matter was that Tara agreed.

With a confident smile, Tara took off towards the command building, with Dash in hot pursuit. At some point during the hundred-yard run to the command building, Dash overtook Tara easily, but the intelligent girl was too caught up in her adrenaline to do anything about it. She was too busy zoning her focus on the task ahead. She had even failed to put her sword away properly. Dash was taken aback by this. Never had she thought Tara would be so intent on doing something so fraught with danger. Not even Dash herself knew if she was actually correct. For all she knew, it would have been perfectly alright to assist the Korbalovs in their endeavors.

And yet, the hazard remained, and the urgency pushed them forward.

"Dash, do you have a weapon on you?" asked Tara. Dash nodded towards her back pocket, where Tara could clearly see Dash's weapon kept at the ready.

"Be careful," said Dash sincerely. Tara held back from gasping at such words. Even after all she and Dash had been through, it was still a shock to hear compassion from her friend.

"Of course," Tara agreed. Before she knew it, the command building was directly in front of her. Its silver walls gleamed with the final glimmers of the sun as it towered over the girls, imposing fear and uncertainty. In front of the girls were three short, white steps, leading to a very standard green door. Tara and Dash looked at each other. With one simple glance, they knew what to do. Cautiously, Tara walked up to the door, and grabbed the knob. It creaked open at once.

"It's been left unlocked," Tara said, half-nervously. It made reason for it to be unlocked; AJ had just left, and with no intruders, it seemed unlikely that she would bother locking it. Still, it felt ominous, as if it was left open just for her. Tara shrugged away the thought quickly. Now was not the time for her to be getting nervous.

Upon entering the facility, the first thing Tara noticed was that it seemed to double as living quarters for the group as well as a launch site, given how the closest barricades were much farther away from the base. Tara and Dash stood in a grey corridor, with an abundance of open rooms on either side. On the left appeared to be a makeshift med-bay, while the right side had several rooms with blankets and pillows. It was up ahead, however, that attracted Tara's attention. Another green door awaited her, cracked slightly ajar, giving her a glimpse of the dim light emitting from the unknown. Tara waved Dash forward, and with a point of her fingers, instructed her to press against the wall. Tara stood across from her, gripping her sword tighter and tighter.

"You ready?" Dash asked in a low whisper. Tara closed her eyes; her heart pounded in her ears. She was finally here. After months of endless tracking, heartbreak, and frustration, she was finally ready to finish what was started long ago. She had no idea how she was going to do it or what it would mean for her or the rest of her friends. But yet, there simply was no alternative. She was going to face the monster who had ripped her life right out from under her. It did not matter how hard he would fight, or how badly she would get beaten, or if she was going to survive. There was only one absolute in her mind:

The Unknown, Matthew Balle, was going to die.

On her signal, Dash kicked open the door and Tara sprang into the room, extending her sword out into the open. Dash followed close behind, ready to assist her comrade in any dire need. However, the circular room was empty, save for a few chairs, many small computer monitors, and one very large screen on the far wall, which displayed images of coordinates on a world map. Balle did not appear to be present, although Tara did not feel any more comfortable.

"Okay, we got lucky," Tara stated, starting to move towards the main computer. "Let's take this thing out before—"

It was quite unfortunate for Tara that she did not notice someone dropping down from the ceiling behind her, or that Dash was not fast enough on her reaction. If these were so, it may have been possible that Tara would not have been kicked in the face. Although Tara probably should have expected a third ambush by this point, nothing happened to soften the blow against her already badly bruised head. By the time she was on the ground, Balle had already turned his attention to Dash. She threw out a right hook, but Balle slid past her fist, and easily tripped her. Tara noticed that Balle had placed on his mask and hat sometime before her arrival, probably for intimidation. However, she did not allow herself to be scared, as she pushed herself up, and thrust out her blade towards his face.

It was then that something unexpected happened; Balle whipped around, stuck out his own hands, and successfully grabbed Tara's sword by the blade, holding it in place. Tara, stunned, tried to force the blade down onto his head, but found that her weapon only clanged against Balle's hands. She suddenly happened to notice that Balle's usually black gloves were now silver and gleaming in the light from the monitor.

"You people are so easy to predict," Balle said dryly. "Always using a sword like a child… pathetic. Your friend, Rachel, was rather brilliant in developing this alloy. Lightweight, yet tightly fused together, making it practically indestructible. If you really wanted to kill me, you should get over your fears and learn how to fire a gun."

Tara tried not to let his words disturb her, yet couldn't help but feel intimidated. "How… how do you—"

"Because you already missed your chance to kill me three days ago," Balle responded. "You think I didn't notice your hand shaking, or the clear hesitation in your eyes? PTSD can strike at the worst times. It just happens to be one of your many, many weaknesses."

Tara angrily broke away from the hold. She needed to shut Balle up, and fast, before he could weave any more thoughts into her mind. She set out with a series of quick cuts, jutting the sword out at odd angles in an attempt to throw Balle off-balance. Unfortunately, while she had been suffering from three days' worth of wounds, he was practically fine. As such, it was easy for him to block the blows with the back of his hands, causing the katana to reflect off each time with a loud clang. At the very least, Tara found that she seemed to be pushing Balle back against the wall of computers, which gave her enough hope to press forward with the attack.

However, Balle planned this. As Tara pulled back for one final thrust, Balle had plenty of time to make his move. He leapt to the side just as Tara lunged forward. The sword passed by his belly without getting close, and with a bit of his assistance, was jammed into one of the computers. Sparks erupted, glass shattered into fragments, and electricity cackled viciously. Tara held up her free hand to cover her face from the blinding sight. Balle took advantage of her vulnerability, gabbing onto her face, and violently crushing her head into the ground.

Tara's vision turned white. The air was knocked straight out of her lungs, and the ringing of her ears was louder than any broken computer. The room was spinning around her. Get up, she thought to herself. You need to stand now. You have to fight. And yet, she couldn't get herself to move. She was fairly certain her head had been cracked open upon collision with the ground, as turning her head brought upon agony to her senses. Somewhere in her daze, she thought she saw Balle standing over her, holding her sword in his grasp. She could barely make anything of it, though, and so it seemed like nothing when Balle raised the sword in the air, and plunged it forward. The pain had blinded her completely to her surroundings. She existed in a state of semi-consciousness. Nothing was real to her, so what she saw probably did not matter.

Dash charged into Balle out of nowhere. Suddenly, both of them were gone from Tara's sight. The world was still a blur as she rolled herself over, trying to look at her surroundings. After wiping away the blood trickling down her face, she was able to spot two shapes battling in the distance.

Dash was faced with an onslaught of sword swings. She considered herself to be the fastest woman alive, but her wounded legs made it near impossible to keep up with Balle. He never let up a chance to strike; if she ducked the blade, then he would kick out towards her knees. If she jumped back, he would press forward. She was never allowed to be given the slightest opportunity over him, and Dash immediately recognized this. She knew Balle was a clever man. Years of hatred would teach almost anyone how to fight. After all, it was how she learned. Yet Dash considered herself clever as well. She could not beat Balle when he was completely focused. However, if there was one thing she knew for certain she was talented at, it was making people unfocused.

"I have to say," Dash began. "You're pretty fucking agile for a fifty year old psychopath."

"Forty-five," Balle corrected, pressing his advance. "And honestly, I can't fathom why you open your mouth at the most impractical of times."

"I don't see why not," Dash replied with a smirk. "If I'm about to die, why should I not let say everything on my mind? Wouldn't you just love to hear the grand compilation of my thoughts and feelings?"

"Do you honestly expect to distract me with this," Balle sighed. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to throw me off with your idiotic ramblings. It's such a strange tactic for someone about to die."

Dash grinned, rolling away from a downwards slash. "It's funny. AJ said the exact same thing to me a while back. You know, when she was honest, and trustworthy, and worked to kill you. It's really a shame things can't go back to the way they were."

"My daughter will never return to you people," Balle stated. He had not realized the sound of anger seeping from his words, yet Dash heard it clear as day. "She knows the truth now, that you people are nothing but monsters sending children to fight your battles for you, while you lust for power."

"Like you're any better," Dash retorted. "You build yourself up an army of college kids, and send them to fight giant, meta-human mercenaries like a little bitch. Hate to break it to you, you faceless prick, but right now your precious daughter is getting beaten to death just outside."

Balle growled, and lunged forward with his sword. Dash dove out of the way, and scrambled back to her feet. She realized it was working. Balle's attack had moved far too slowly to be effective. She was wearing him down.

"I am nothing like you people," Balle said angrily.

"Oh wait, that's not even the worst of your worries," Dash laughed, ignoring Balle's words. "I mean, technically, we only paid the Korbalovs to take care of Rachel, Pinky and Fiona. AJ wasn't even considered. I was honestly just gonna rip her skull out of her goddamn head, but now that we're here, those Russians are probably going to want something in return. And last time they took one of our friends in… well, it didn't really end up so good for her face."

Balle slashed wildly at Dash's feet, yet she jumped over the blade. He swung diagonally towards her head, but she was gone before he could attack. She ran past him, grabbing onto his arm with one hand and his shirt with the other, and tackled him to the ground. They both ascended quickly, but Dash recovered first. Summoning every ounce of stamina she had, she shot forward using her powers, and punched him in the jaw.

"Just remember fuckface," Dash said with arrogance. "When your kid is getting raped and mutilated by those two freak shows somewhere in the Russian wastelands, know that it's your fault for putting her in harm's way in the first place. Just like—"

"Shut up!" Balle screamed. In a flash, his fist shot forward, and Dash let out an awful cry. His metal fist hit her in the center of her ribcage, cracking apart the bone. Her mouth was agape, and her eyes were wide. The only thing she registered was pain. She leaned against Balle's shoulder for support, as she felt her legs failing her. And then, she was struck again in the ribs by the same metallic hand. She couldn't even let out a scream; instead, she spat out a glob of blood in her mouth, and fell to her knees.

Tara was released from her dazed condition by Dash's cries. When the world straightened, she saw Dash on her knees, unable to move, and Balle standing triumphantly over her. He looked down upon her with disgust, and although his face could not be seen, she knew exactly what he felt.

The motions that followed seemed to be unthinkable. Balle grabbed Dash by her hair, brutally throwing her to the floor. He kicked her in the side with all his might, and then watched her roll on the ground in agony. Since when had Dash been covered with so much blood? Was that all her own? Was she even still alive? These were Tara's most basic thoughts as Balle took her sword, and brought it to Dash's throat.

Suddenly, the katana flew out of his hands, and directly into Tara's. She wasn't entirely sure when she had started running towards him, or when she had started to scream. She found that her face was contorted with rage, and she could not stop. Her face was covered in her own blood, whether from her forehead or her nose. Her hair had become caked with the stuff, and she was finding it extremely painful to move. And yet, she kept running.

Perhaps the reason why was because she was desperate. Perhaps she realized that if she didn't step up, the world that she knew would be over. Perhaps she could not stand the prospect of her failing the people she cared about. Perhaps she didn't want to see anyone die when she could have helped. Perhaps she just wanted to save Dash's life.

The reason did not matter, as Tara leapt into the air, and spun around with her sword extended outwards. Her screams were all that she heard. She was mere feet from Balle as he looked up in surprise to see her approaching. He stared at her for but a brief moment, observing carefully as she drew near. Then, he jumped forward as well, shooting up his fist towards the approaching woman. Time seemed to slow as the katana and the fist connected. A loud crash echoed throughout the room. Neither seemed to push past the other, both metals pressed against each other. Even though they only collided for a moment, it felt like an eternity to both Tara and Balle, who watched with anger and panic.

And then, the katana cracked down the middle, and shattered into pieces.

Tara slammed into the ground as the fragments of her sword bounced about. She lay face down on her stomach, horribly defeated. When the silence returned, Tara raised her head groggily. All around her, she could see the remains of her once graceful weapon. The beautiful carvings which had lined the blade were now cracked and crooked. The hilt lay near her side, jagged steel jutting from its edge. She couldn't even tell how many pieces lay around her, but to her, it felt like a graveyard. Through the blood and the pain, all she could feel was remorse.

"Pathetic," Balle stated gruffly. He kicked a fragment of the sword out of his way. Then, he began walking towards the main console. "After all of the pain you've caused to my family, you still thought you could get away with it. Years of suffering mean nothing to you people. I hope you truly enjoyed your reign over this world, because its finally time we bring this to an end."

Tara let out a moan of agony as Balle reached the main computer. He began viciously typing away, and his commands appeared on the screen. The countdown had begun.

"Please… please stop…" Tara choked out, trying to climb to her hands and knees. "You don't need to do this. Millions of innocent people could die."

"No one is innocent," stated Balle as he watched the screen with desire. All of his plans were finally coming to fruition.

"They… they didn't mean to do this to you," Tara said, desperately. "They had no choice."

"Everyone has a choice. They made theirs, and I made mine."

"Matthew… do you really think AJ would want this? Or you wife?" Tara begged. It couldn't end like this. Not like this. "Please, just… just let this go."

Balle was about to type in the final command, when he paused. He said nothing for several moments; he just stood there, contemplating this idea suddenly thrust into his mind. Tara looked up in both fear and hope, her entire body shaking. Dash was trying to hold herself steady against the wall, clutching her chest with one arm. She watched Balle through the pain, waiting anxiously for him to move.

Then, Balle sighed. "Matthew Balle cared about others. He trusted them in everything they did. Unfortunately, he burned to death fourteen years ago."

And then, with melancholy, The Unknown pressed the "ENTER" key, and fulfilled everything he dreamed of.

However, that didn't happen. Instead, he heard a high-pitched beeping noise. Then, there was another. And then, the entire computer exploded. He screamed as the fire consumed him, absorbing everything he was. Tara fell to her belly, stitching her eyes shut and covering her ears as the echoes reverberated around the room. Dash used her free arm to cover the intense light as she pushed herself closer to the wall. The explosion was not able to fill the room, yet both girls could feel the intense heat emitting from the ball of fire. It seemed like an eternity before the flames calmed down. When they did, the room was dark save for the small flames still flickering across the charred remains of the computer. The Unknown lay flat on the ground, his clothes and mask torn and burnt. He groaned weakly, unable to move. Tara and Dash looked at each other in confusion.

"What… what the fuck was that?" Dash asked, confused yet amazed. Tara looked hard at the remains, trying to understand what was happening. She pushed herself to her knees again, as the pain started to subside. Dash watched as her face changed from confusion to realization, to shock, to relief.

"I… I think she did it," Tara whispered, a smile forming on her face. "AJ… AJ did it."

Dash looked Tara, and then back to the remains. The words, foreign at first, were able to piece together in her mind. "AJ sabotaged the operation," Dash stated, completely amazed. "Holy shit, she was undercover this whole goddamn time, wasn't she?"

Tara couldn't stop herself from smiling. The incredible relief she felt was unlike anything she had known. All of her anxiety and fear was flushed away. Her body still ached, but her mind was finally at rest. After months of fighting, she could finally rest. The threat was defeated, the world was saved, and she still had her friends by her side. Nothing else that happened mattered to her.

It was finally over.

Dash hobbled her way over to her, only occasionally pausing to take a deep, calming breath. The Unknown continued to moan on the floor.

"She… betrayed me," he muttered quietly. Despite the horrible burns covering his flesh, the simple knowledge of the truth hurt more than anything else. The only person he cared about, the only person he trusted in the entire world, destroyed everything left precious to him. Even after she had learned everything that had happened to him, she chose to side with the creatures that stole her life away. It was truly the greatest cruelty he had ever known. Very carefully, he began an attempt to stand.

"You think next time she could tell us when she would do something like that," Dash stated, trying to keep up her annoyed tone. However, she found that she too was smiling. She made a mental note to punch AJ in the face the next time she saw her, but aside from that, she found that she couldn't really stay mad for long. She held out a hand to Tara, and helped the girl to her feet.

"And to think that AJ says she isn't a good liar," Tara joked. She considered that for a moment. She just made a joke. She felt like she hadn't done that in years. She rubbed the back of her head, feeling the bruise on her scalp. She probably had a concussion, but at least nothing seemed to be bleeding there, so she felt fine with it. However, her mood quickly diminished when she looked around at the floor. All of the pieces of her sword shone a dull orange from the flames. Tara frowned as she picked up the hilt, and examined it. The rough edges at the top appeared highly sharp, perhaps sharper than the sword itself. Dash's mood changed as well.

"Oh shit," she muttered, watching as Tara stared at the hilt with dull eyes. "Sorry about your sword. I knew how much you liked it."

"It's… it's fine," Tara said with a sigh, letting the hilt slide out of her lifeless hand. "It's just a sword. I think I'll survive. Who knows? Maybe Celestia can get the thing repaired."

"You mean, if the government doesn't confiscate it first, or she doesn't get fired for helping us break out," Dash stated. Tara shrugged.

"Yeah… right…" she said plainly. Meanwhile, The Unknown clawed at the ground, trying so hard to get to his feet.

"You ruined everything," he moaned, his gravelly voice stricken with hate. "You… corrupted her."

Suddenly, both girls turned their attention to the man lying on the ground.

"He's still alive. What do we do with him?" Dash asked. Tara pondered this for a moment. The obvious choice was to kill him. She could easily allow Dash to take a mercy shot. It would certainly wipe out the threat entirely. However, something about it did not settle right with her. Not only did she have an awful feeling that it would be a terrible thing to do, but she knew that she would be losing someone very valuable. She figured there was probably so much information that he could provide that she couldn't even know it all. A vast knowledge of the criminal underworld would be most helpful. Besides, she felt like it wouldn't be fair to AJ. Even though the two probably hated each other, Tara knew the downside of not having a family. AJ had been without one for far too long; Tara couldn't take that away from her now, even if he did end up living in a jail cell.

"Dash, go get the Korbalovs," Tara stated. "We're going to need some rope or something to tie him up." Dash looked at Tara doubtingly.

"Are you sure, Spark?" she asked, eyeing The Unknown on the ground. He was struggling to push himself to his knees. "He's a psychopath. What if he breaks out and gets away?"

"We're not going to kill him… at least no yet, I think," Tara said. "We might be able to learn things from him. Besides, he doesn't look like he's in much of a condition to hurt anyone anyway."

"You're… you're all weak," The Unknown spat out bitterly. He sounded less sophisticated and far more like a delusional madman. The loss of everything had snapped something in his mind, filling his entire being with pure hatred. "You still care about people in this world. You're too trusting, and that makes you weak. I'll kill you all for betraying me, every last one of you. This world will burn, dammit. I'll get what I deserve."

Dash sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing, Spark. Really, I do."

Tara smiled lightly. "Trust me."

Dash took a deep breath, and then slowly began to walk back to the entrance. She could hear the ravings of The Unknown behind her, and personally could not wait to get out of the room. However, she only walked a few steps before her body betrayed her. She gasped in pain, and fell to her knees, clutching her chest tightly. In a flash, Tara was by her side.

"Are you okay?" Tara asked, concerned. Dash let out a small chuckle.

"I think I just experienced more pain than anyone else on the planet," she joked, trying to keep the mood light. Tara helped her stand, but found that she needed to constantly support her wait on her shoulder.

While the girls were distracted, however, The Unknown finally raised himself to his knees. The flames had burnt through his mask, marking several patches of black and red flesh. His body trembled as he looked onwards, watching the girls struggle. He could feel the burns on his throat, scorching away at his insides. He doubted that he would be able to save himself another time. If the situation, he might have considered the grand irony in everything: he was killed by the very person he sought to save.

However, he could not focus on anything but the fact that he was killed by the person he tried to save. His own flesh and blood had revolted against him. The person he loved was transformed into a savage animal, and he could plainly see who was responsible. After all, the monsters that had mutated his beloved daughter into a murderous psychopath were standing right in front of him, with their backs turned, not paying attention to him. The sadistic little girls had taunted him of AJ's betrayal and of her torment endlessly. They planned to hold him down and torture him for all of his worth. They thought they had won. They thought they had completed their quest of bloodshed. However, The Unknown realized that they were very, very wrong about that.

Carefully, with shaky hands, he reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a pistol.

Tara suddenly felt a shift in the air. She stopped tending to Dash's wound and stood perfectly still. Something was wrong, but she could not tell what. It felt as if a ghost had just passed by her, sending a chill to her bone. She could sense an imbalance by means no other than pure instinct, yet she was certain something very bad was about to happen. She glanced over to Dash; her friend had yet to notice anything different. Time had slowed down. Each moment ticked by in agonizing slowness. Tara quickly delved into her memories, searching for something important she might have missed. Everything seemed to be fine, so then why did she feel death looming near?

Then, Tara heard the sound of a gun being cocked. Every nerve fired in her body. She did not have the time to turn around, or the energy to stop the gun from being fired. She had no means to block anything coming her way. However, Tara had never even considered this. The instant she heard the sound of the gun, she knew exactly what was about to happen, and what needed to be done.

Tara, stricken with fear, immediately leapt to her side and tackled Dash to the ground, as two gunshots rang throughout the room. The two girls rolled on the floor, with Tara ending up on her back. Dash barely knew what was happening around her, and her only instinct was to hold herself as close to Tara as possible. Tara, however, was never dissuaded from her goal. She reached her arm around Dash's waist, into her pocket, and yanked out the pistol Dash kept for emergencies. She pointed the weapon straight at The Unknown. Tara swore off using a gun long ago, as she never had the stomach for it. To her, it was a dishonorable death to bestow upon someone. It usually did not matter who that person was, or what they had done, but she could never find it in her heart to pull the trigger. It was a part of who she was.

However, the man before her had ruined her life, ruined the lives of her friends, her family, his own family, and now, had just tried to kill her best friend. Tara felt nothing left in her heart for the monster before her. There was no hesitation to be found.

BANG

he Unknown stuttered. The gun fell out of his limp hand, lightly clanging on the ground. He suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. He brought his free hand to his neck, trying to prevent it from shaking wildly. He felt a dark liquid flowing there. He felt the blood quickly pouring out of his body. He let out a weak choking noise, and looked up at the girls in desperation. Tara could plainly see fear present in his eyes.

And then, all at once, he fell onto his stomach, and ceased to be.

Both girls breathed heavily as they lay still. Tara kept her arm extended, letting the gun point at the spot where The Unknown used to be. Dash carefully lifted herself onto her elbows, and looked at Tara, who still wore a face of shock and fear.

"Holy shit, you saved my life," Dash said with respect. "How the hell did you manage to know those shots were coming?"

Tara said nothing. She continued to remain perfectly still, as if in shock of her actions. She knew that that must be what was wrong with her. That must have been why she felt so bizarre, so tired, so weak. Surely, it was the only logical explanation. It was what Dash surely thought as well. And then, for some reason, she was compelled to look downwards. The impulse seemed to come out of a dream, as if her subconscious beckoned her to do so. And so, Tara looked down upon her own chest, and in shock, stared down at it. Her gaze compelled Dash to do the same, and when she did, her eyes went wide.

Two pools of blood were forming beneath Tara's shirt. Tara looked up at Dash immediately. Their eyes met with horror and confusion.

"Oh my God," Dash whispered in fear. Those words were all it took to sap away the rest of Tara's strength. Tara let out a pained gasp, and fell back at once, staring up at the ceiling in a daze. Dash hovered over her, and all Tara could make out was the sheer panic in her eyes.

"This isn't fucking happening. This isn't fucking happening," Dash muttered, holding her hands over Tara's chest. Everything seemed surreal, like a horrible nightmare. Of course, she had to be in a nightmare, or else Tara wouldn't be bleeding like this. Tara was really fine in real life, once Dash woke up. Yet the nightmare continued, and Tara continued to bleed.

"You're gonna be fine, Spark," Dash reassured. She pressed down on one of the blood stains, and Tara let out a soft whimper. "You're not gonna die like this. You're not going to fucking die like this, do you hear me? You're not dying for my life." Dash looked around for something, anything to help her, yet the room was barren. She had no medical supplies with her, and the Korbalovs were a hundred yards away.

Suddenly, she remembered: the Korbalovs were still here. They could have brought supplies with them. Dash was quickly given newfound hope. If she could reach them in time, maybe, just maybe, she had a chance. It was a risk she was willing to take, especially given the consequences of failure. She reached down, and grabbed Tara by the shoulders. Her friend struggled little as she picked her up. However, she immediately realized that not only could she barely carry Tara as it was, let alone run, Tara would only get worse if she was moved around so fast. Improvising on her toes, she walked to the nearest wall, and rested Tara against it.

"Try to stay upright. I… I think that's what you're supposed to do," Dash instructed. She rose to her feet, and looked towards the door. It took all of her power just to sound calm, when in reality, it felt like her mind was a train wreck. "Just… just stay here, okay? I'm only going to be gone a minute, and then I'll be right back with help."

Dash began to hastily move towards the door, and then something grabbed onto her: a soft hand, weakly latching onto her own. Dash stopped, and turned around. Tara rested comfortably against the wall, grabbing onto her with her remaining strength. She never even turned her head, but their eyes still met each other.

"Please," Tara begged. It was the weakest Dash had ever heard her sound. Her voice sounded hollow and dull. "Please, just… just stay here with me."

Dash looked away. Tara was replaced with a tortured soul, bloody and clinging desperately to life. It hurt just to look at her in this form.

"I need to go," Dash explained quickly, not truly wanting to break free from Tara's grasp out of fear of never retaining it. She could see that Tara was trying to protest, but lacked the strength to do so. Her friend had never looked so desperate. "I'm going to get the Korbalovs. They'll know what to do. They'll fix you right up. Everything will be fine."

"No, no, no," Tara said weakly. She gave a tug on Dash's arm so pathetic that it might as well have been from a two year-old. She didn't want Dash to leave her. She needed her to stay by her side. Even though she never wished to admit it, she didn't want to face the possibility of dying alone. "It's alright. It's all alright. I'm fine. In fact, I…" Tara paused, realization dawning on her. "I can't… I can't feel anything, actually..."

Tara lingered on this thought for an eternity. She suddenly realized that she was being honest. She could feel the tingling of blood leaving her body, but felt nothing resembling pain. There were no aches or screams of agony or stinging sensations running throughout her system. She just felt weak, as if someone was draining the life directly out of her. She quickly made the connection. After all, she had been shot before. She knew what it should have felt like. She recalled it being the most excruciating experience of her life. And yet now, after being shot again, she felt numb, and tired, and weak.

Tara realized that she was dying.

Dash knelt down beside her, unsure of what to do. She knew she needed to run to get help. Only that would save Tara's life, but she couldn't find the strength to leave. No matter how crucial it would be, she lacked the courage to leave her friend's side. In fact, she didn't want to leave. She never wanted to leave. The world was slipping out from under her, and the closest thing she had to an anchor was falling with it. It seemed impossible, unreal even, but she could see the defeat in Tara's eyes. Dash felt like it was her responsibility almost, to stay by Tara's side. And for that, she could never dream of leaving.

Neither of them could bear to share tears, and neither one of them said anything for a while. There was nothing left to say. For all of the things Dash could think to say in her entire life, none of them could stave off death. If such words existed, she felt like she would have known about them. It would have saved so much suffering over her life. Yet she was helpless as she watched Tara slowly bleed out. Tara herself was actually surprised. She had always imagined that when she died, her mind would be fraught with remorse for all of the things she was never able to do. She had imagined that her thoughts would be consumed by her friends and family, the people who cared the most about her. She still thought of these things now, except it wasn't in remorse. It was not in fear, or despair, or any emotion that she had anticipated. No, perhaps the most frightful thing of all was that she felt completely and utterly calm. Her mind was at ease. The knowledge of what was about to happen to her wasn't worrying at all. She just accepted it, like the most basic, inescapable truth. She would have liked to think that she would have fought death to the very end, push on to live no matter what the cost. However, the sad truth was that she had no energy to fight, or to fear, or to worry. So she just sat there against the wall, feeling her life fade away.

No one was sure how long had passed before Tara spoke. "I… I did it."

Dash was snapped out of her daze. She looked back at Tara, who had a faint smile on her face. She looked at Dash like a child trying to earn the respect of their parent. "I… I fired a gun at the bad guy. I… I stopped him."

Dash stared at Tara with a sense of wonder. She truly had no idea what she was supposed to say at something so irrelevant. However, she couldn't help but smile as well. "Yeah. You did. Now I can finally tell the others you stopped being a little bitch about killing people."

Tara let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, I… I actually wasn't a failure for once. Isn't that something?"

Dash's smile faded. She couldn't bear hearing Tara say anything negative about herself; it only made everything hurt more. "You're not a failure, Spark. Your aim just sucks. Next week, once you're all better, I'm gonna need to take you to a shooting range or something."

Tara briefly looked away. Her words verged between humorous and sorrowful. "I… uh… think I'll have to take a rain check on that. I… I don't really think I'll be… around to do that."

"Come on, Spark. Don't say things like that. Everything… everything will be fine. Learn to listen to me, for Christ's sake."

Tara smiled to herself. She never realized how wonderful Dash could actually be sometimes. Even in the most dire times, she still tried to make everything seem just alright.

"Dash, I…" Tara choked out. She could feel the water in her eyes. "…I just want to say… thank you… for everything."

Dash, for what had to be the fifth time that day, had no response. "What are you thanking me for? I… I've done nothing but hurt you for as long as I've known you."

"No, you haven't," Tara spoke honestly. "You… you made me see everything differently. Before I met you, I was… well, close-minded, I guess. I barely talked to anyone else, I thought everyone was… beneath me, and… I just wasn't really a good person. Do you have any idea how horrible I realized I was after coming here? It was like you said… change your perspective on the world."

"Bullshit," Dash said hastily. She squeezed Tara's hand a bit tighter. "I didn't do any of that. That was you who became better. You're the one who's intelligent. You're the one who people trust to lead them. You're the one who has a bright future ahead of her. I… I don't get better. After all the shit I've been through, I haven't even changed at all. I'm still just—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Tara said sternly. Dash looked at her in surprise. For a moment, Tara almost sounded like herself. The dying girl took a deep breath. "However you do think of yourself, please stop it. I want you to listen to me, because I'm being one hundred percent honest with you. You are one of the greatest people that I've ever met. You're honest with people. You're strong, and courageous, and I know that deep down, you're actually one of the kindest people I know. You don't give up on people, and I will be dammed if you end up giving up on yourself."

Tara let out a sharp gasp. She could feel herself growing weaker by the moment. A tear fell from her eye, and Dash squeezed her hand tighter. "Rebecca, just… promise me something, will you? Promise me that… that you won't give up on your life; that you'll continue to live on, and keep fighting, no matter what. And… and please stop thinking about yourself like that, like you're worthless. You mean so much to so many people. You need to make something of your future for not just them, but yourself. You… you can promise me that, right?"

"I…" Dash stammered. She closed her eyes, and turned away. It felt like a sword was jammed into her heart. She did not want to face reality. She couldn't bear to do it. Finally, after several painstakingly silent moments, she sighed, and turned towards Tara, looking her directly in the eyes. "I… I promise, Spark. I'll do whatever it takes."

Tara smiled faintly once more. "Thanks. Also… when you see the others… can you just… just tell them I'm sorry, will you? Tell them I'm sorry for… for everything. Just tell them that."

Dash nodded. She refused to speak anymore. Tara sighed with relief. Her time was short, and only growing shorter. Soon, there would be nothing left to give. With the last of her energy, she grabbed onto Dash's arm with both arms, and pulled her into a tight hug. Tears were streaming down her face, and a small stream of blood poured from her lips. She closed her eyes, and held Dash close to her. It may have been the softest hug she had ever experienced. And then, she leaned into Dash's ear, and whispered quietly,

"You're going to do great things someday, Rebecca. I just know it."

Dash said nothing. She just held onto her friend with all of her strength. She lost track of time in her embrace. Whether seconds had passed or just minutes, Dash was unsure. For all she knew, hours could have gone by. Time became one continuous blur, individual moments were forever lost. All that was important to Dash was to hold onto Tara for as long as possible. Sometime when she hadn't noticed, Tara's grip faded, and her arms fell limp to the ground. At some point, Tara looked at an insignificant spot on the floor, and continued to stare at it with an empty gaze. Even though Dash had no idea when, Tara had drawn one final breath, and faded away. None of it mattered. Dash kept holding on.

Eventually, Dash had to let go. Her mind was completely blank, and she shed no tears. She examined Tara's lifeless face, checking for any last signs that she was still with her.

"Spark?" Dash asked quietly. Tara refused to meet her eyes. "Hey Spark? Can you hear me? Come on, Spark… say something."

Dash knew there would be no response. No matter how much she begged or pleaded, nothing was going to change the truth. She didn't feel hateful or bitter or saddened by any of it. She only felt empty as the denial faded away, and she finally accepted reality.

Tara Sullivan was dead.

Dash brought a hand to the corpse, and gently shut its eyes. She had seen that done in plenty of movies, so she thought it seemed rather appropriate for the time. Taking a deep breath, Dash rose to her feet. She looked at the ruin around her. She was in the company of the dead, and it never seemed more fitting. She knew what she had to do. She had responsibility, after all. Using what was left of her energy; she picked up the body of her former friend, and carried it outside of the base.

The sun was finally setting over the horizon. The incredible mixture of colors would have been enough to lighten the mood of any weary individual. However, Dash refused to look at the sky. She couldn't handle any form of beauty at the moment. She simply looked ahead into the distance, where she could see two large men carrying an unconscious body into a large vehicle.

Dash felt absolutely nothing as she marched towards the vehicle, and carried her friend home.

End of Chapter 12

Epilogue I: Saying Goodbye

Epilogue I: Saying Goodbye

"Shut up! That's not possible!" AJ screamed, fighting against the guard's grip. She wailed away in a blind fury. She simply had to escape, or she otherwise would have lost her mind.

"AJ, please try to understand," Celestia said, showing a fair amount of concern for once. AJ gritted her teeth together. She could feel the tears flow from her eyes.

"He's not dead!" AJ repeated for the tenth time. "He can't be dead! You're lying to me!"

"You need to calm down," Celestia stated. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"How can you act so fucking calm!?" AJ asked furiously. "He was your friend, and he was murdered! Why are you acting like this?"

"It was a suicide. He left a note. Nothing is going to change that."

"That can't be true! Mac would never do something like that," AJ shouted. "He would never leave me like that! I know him! He couldn't do that, he just couldn't!"

Somehow, AJ was able to break free of the man who had held her. She thought about attacking Celestia. For a brief moment, the blame fell solely on the older woman's shoulders. She was the one who delivered the news. She was the one who kept lying to her. AJ wanted to pound her face in, beat her to a pulp, until there was nothing left but a bloody mess.

However, AJ didn't have the strength. Instead, she closed her eyes, and pushed past her superiors, running far away.

"AJ, wait!" Celestia shouted after her. Yet the young agent was far away by this point, running to the solace of her room. The absolute moment AJ was alone; she sank to her knees, and began to sob loudly. She used to think that she was above crying. If anyone had asked her just a few hours ago, she would have said that crying was for the weak and defenseless. She had thought that she had run out of tears to shed many, many years ago.

And yet, the tears would not stop flowing. Everyone she cared about seemed to end up dead. Her family was forever cursed.

She was alone once again.

__________

March 22nd, 2016

AJ blinked several time upon awakening. The heart monitor was easily detectable by her ears. She had not the slightest idea of how long she had been unconscious. Her last memory was slamming her head against a wall at a rather high velocity. Other than that, she could not recall much. However, upon looking around her environment, the pieces began to form together. To her left, she spotted Fiona, starting to stir from her long rest. To her right were two more beds, on which lied the bandaged forms of Rachel and Pinky. For a brief moment, AJ actually thought that she was back at the military base. How was it that out of all of the things to go wrong, it had to be the only important part of the mission? But then, her fears were quickly hushed as she saw Dash sitting at the foot of her bed. Her back was turned to her, although based on her posture AJ assumed she was staring at the floor in wait.

"What… what happened?" AJ asked groggily. She slowly sat up on the bed, feeling her bruised ribs straining against the pressure. She rubbed her forehead, feeling the bandages shift on her flesh.

"It's over," Dash said softly. Her voice held no emotion. "You should be starting to wake up now. The sedatives we gave you are wearing off."

"Sedatives?" AJ asked, very confused. What had happened to her yesterday?

"Yeah, I'll explain when they wake up," Dash stated. "By the way, your hat is back in your room. We thought it would be best not to leave it behind." AJ could hear the soft moans of those around her. She couldn't count the amount of injuries her friends had sustained. Pinky looked relatively fine, barely having a scratch on her. Rachel seemed alright with the exception of her foot, which was held in a splint and kept suspended in the air. Fiona was simply restless, with her face occasionally experiencing horrified flashes, and her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. She whimpered unintelligible words every so often before grimacing and flipping over.

It took another thirty minutes for the girls to awaken. During that time, AJ remained entirely quiet. At first, she tried to talk to Dash to sort out her memories. However, something about her energetic friend seemed very off. Her shoulders were slumped, crooked. Usually when Dash was bored she would be restless, tapping her fingers or pacing about. Yet now as she looked at her, Dash never moved at all. She just sat there, waiting in absolute silence.

Instead, AJ searched through her memories. Her head was not especially kind to her, occasionally shooting a burst of pain through her system. One-by-one though, the pieces came together. She remembered working with her father, attacking her friends, and placing a bomb inside of a computer, but not much else. She still could not recall how she was injured, or how she had been taken back to Camelot. She doubted it she did it willingly, given her current condition, so then why did she bother fighting? An image of a syringe appeared in her mind. Perhaps the answer had something to do with that, she decided. She supposed she would just have to wait.

It was not much longer before the silence was broken.

"Jeez, my head," said a high-pitched voice that undoubtedly belonged to Pinky. "Ugh, it feels like a bus ran through it. Where the heck am I?"

"You're back at the base," said AJ. "We've been out for a while."

"I feel like it," Pinky said sorrowfully.

"Me too," Rachel moaned tiredly. "My foot feels like it's on fire. The worst part is… I don't even know what happened to it."

"Neither do I," Pinky agreed. "It's all like… a blur. I just remember a lot of darkness. That's really it."

"Welcome to my life," Rachel joked. "Seriously, did someone punch me through a wall or something?"

"Maybe you tripped?"

"And broke my leg in half? I doubt it. It feels more like I was hit by a bus."

Suddenly, to their left came a gasp. Fiona shot forward, gripping the sheets tightly. She panted heavily, her eyes wide. All eyes turned to her as she frantically looked around the room. It took her several seconds to calm down from her panicked state.

"Where… where are we?" she asked.

"Camelot. You're safe now," AJ stated.

"Are you alright?" Rachel asked from across the room. Fiona tilted her head down.

"Yeah… I think I'm fine," Fiona said softly. "What happened to us?"

"You were being mind-controlled," Dash finally spoke up. All eyes and ears were on her, yet she still couldn't face them. "AJ's father, The Unknown, was a Macer, and he controlled you all into fighting us. You nearly killed us all."

The room was silent. The girls shared the same sense of disbelief. It seemed near impossible for them to have done such a thing without realizing it. And yet, somehow in the backs of their minds, they knew Dash was telling the truth. In fact, the very thought brought back eschewed memories of the events of the day before. However, AJ remembered something quite different, and that worried her.

"My father? Is he—"

"Dead," Dash stated simply. "Your little bomb trick worked perfectly. He never even knew what hit him."

AJ wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. For the past several days, she had been haunted by the knowledge of what she needed to do. Every single moment she had spent with her father brought a pang of guilt as she lived with the fact that she could not allow him to live. Even so, she couldn't help but feel saddened by his loss. Granted, he was a psychopath, a murder, and a wicked person, but he was still her father. He still did not deserve any of the things that he was wronged of.

"Dash, what do you mean by… us?" Rachel couldn't help but wonder.

"The Korbalovs. We paid them off to help cure you. They were the ones who broke your foot. Sorry."

"The Russians attacked us again?" Pinky stated in outrage. "Jeez, you think we could go a month without hearing from them ever again."

"Hey, Dash," Fiona said, sounding slightly nervous. She had looked around the room several times during Dash's explanation, and found something to be very off. Her friend was absent. Dash tensed up, as if knowing what she was about to be asked. Fiona didn't notice as she asked, "Do you know where Tara is? I know it sounds weird, but I… I really need to talk to her about something."

Dash stayed quiet. Suddenly, the other girls noticed this oddity. Tara was never one to leave her friends behind. Of course, she occasionally displayed levels of selfishness, but it seemed very peculiar that Tara would not stay close to her friends while Dash would. Subconsciously, they had just assumed that she was just off talking to Celestia, or doing something else important. Yet the more they thought about, the stranger the events seemed to be.

Dash took a deep breath. "We were having a hard time fighting all of you off. We were starting to get desperate, so I… I asked Spark if we should just go to attack The Unknown before anyone gets hurt. She agreed with me, so we… we headed after him."

In an instant, they knew something was wrong. Dash's voice was somber.

"When we finally got to his position, he… got the jump on us. I was knocked to the ground pretty fast. Spark didn't have a lot of energy left, but she… she kept on fighting. She charged right after him like the bravest warrior in the world."

Dash paused. She had no idea how to go on. What was she supposed to say? Tara died for her? The one person who everyone was friends with decided to sacrifice her own existence so that Dash could live on? How would she ever be able to live with herself after that? Could she even do it at all? More importantly, could the others? They deserved so much more than the truth. And although Dash couldn't run from the truth, she felt like it was her duty to fix it. For her friends' sake. For her sake.

Dash slowly turned to face Fiona. Her entire expression was one of terrible sadness. Just by one look at her face, Fiona went wide-eyed. She didn't need to be told what had happened anymore. It was already crystal clear.

"He… he pulled a gun out of his pocket," Dash said softly. She could feel the intense stares by those around her. "It happened so fast. I'm not even sure if she felt it. I… I tried to do everything I could, but…"

Dash could no longer bear to face her friends anymore. She turned her back to them, and curled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. It was more painful to say the next few words than anything she had ever experienced in her entire life.

"She's… she's gone, guys. She's actually gone."

Silence. Absolute silence. Never before had Dash heard such an awful sound. She honestly wasn't sure what she should have been expecting. She suspected tears, denial, or sobbing. For the past several hours, she had mentally prepared herself for these things. However, she had anticipated silence. Cruel, painful silence. It spoke to her with more emotion than any amount of crying could ever do.

Just when Dash thought the silence would never end, AJ finally spoke. "Dash… what are you talking about?"

Dash said nothing. There was nothing she could say to make anything better, so she didn't even bother trying.

"You're not serious, are you?" AJ asked, starting to break down. "She… she can't be dead. Tara cannot be dead. Do you hear me? It's just not possible."

Nearby, Pinky held her hand over her mouth, and her eyes started to water. Unlike AJ, she never faced denial. She knew Dash well enough to know that she would never joke about something so serious. She had to be telling the truth, and it was something Pinky couldn't handle. It wasn't as if she hadn't lost people close to her before. It wasn't as if heartbreak was a concept unfamiliar to her. She had just thought that losing someone a second time would be far less painful than it was the first. She was wrong.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Pinky repeated over and over, her words muffled by her palm.

"Pinky, shut up!" AJ snapped. "Tara isn't dead. She can't be! I promised her that she would be safe. I gave her my goddamn word that nothing bad would happen to her, so stop crying! There's no way she's gone!"

The news broke through to Rachel next. It seemed completely unrealistic to her. How could it have even happened? It seemed too sudden, too unexpected, a variable no one had accounted for. The news shook her to her core. If Tara could die, then who was to say that anyone else was safe? She always knew that she worked with a very high risk of her own demise, but for some reason, it never seemed to her like it could actually happen. Perhaps it was all that she had survived that gave her an immortality complex. Perhaps she thought that being blinded was the very worst thing that could happen to her. And yet, here she was, facing the death of one of her closest friends. She wasn't even sad, just stuck in a state of perpetual shock; all she could do was stare at the ceiling with false eyes as her contemplated everything she previously knew to be true.

"Dash, you can't just ignore me!" AJ said in desperation. She could feel the tears swelling in her eyes. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to deny reality. "We both know she isn't dead. She can't be. Please, just say something. She… she can't be… dammit…" AJ clenched her fist tightly. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on blocking out all of her emotions. She couldn't lose someone again, not now. It seemed like she had just gotten over losing Mac. She had finally moved on with her life. And now, everything was over again. Dash offered no solace, refusing to give her as much as a second glance. In truth, Dash couldn't comfort her. She could barely comfort herself. The last thing she needed was to help keep someone else sane during such a stressful time.

However, at that moment, something unexpected happened. Fiona suddenly got off of her bed, and walked to the door. For the brief moment Dash looked at her face, she saw emptiness. Fiona was the last person Dash wanted to face; she simply knew that she wouldn't be able to handle whatever the shy girl felt. Yet that face, those dead eyes, struck a chord deep inside of Dash. Immediately, she became more concerned than ever.

Fiona didn't respond to those who called out her name. She never looked back as she exited the room, and started to walk down the gray corridors. Camelot was empty, just like she was. She felt absolutely nothing. She was a living ghost, unconsciously roaming the halls without a sense of purpose. Her motions were mechanic, for her mind ceased to function correctly. She continued walking on automatically until she reached the sleeping quarters. Without a second thought, she pushed open the door, and walked to her bunk. Her face remained blank as she walked to her bunk, and lied down.

Her head rested comfortably on the pillow. That was the only thought in her mind that made sense. It was just her, the silence of the room, and a pillow. That was all she needed to worry about now. Nothing else could penetrate the vast labyrinth of her mind except these very simple facts. Emotion was a distant concept; and there was no reason for her to worry herself with such things. Like a corpse, she remained still, staring at the door. She was calmer than any amount of drugs could ever make her. Her face showed no expression.

Her mouth twitched. Her eyes glanced down, and then quickly retreated back up again. Then, very calmly, Fiona turned into her pillow, and screamed.

She screamed louder than she ever knew she could. She took all of the sorrow, all of the disappointment, all of the rage, and let it out into air. Her voice was weak, making her cries sound more like that of a banshee than a woman. Her nails pierced her own flesh, causing blood to run down her palms. She didn't even care that she was running out of breath or that she was growing faint, or that her voice was strained and painful to emit. She just screamed like there was nothing else left to do in the world.

Fiona suddenly heard the door open to her left. Without a second thought, Fiona grabbed her pillow, and threw it as hard as she could towards the person in the doorway. Incredibly enough, it was Dash who stood in the entryway. She swatted the pillow away, although she hardly did it with satisfaction. Before she had time to say anything, Fiona was sitting up on the bunk, pointing at the door. She snarled.

"Get out!" Fiona yelled harshly. "Get out right now!"

"Fiona, I think you just need—"

"I said get the hell out of here!" Fiona repeated, jumping up from her bunk. She stayed towards the back of the room, keeping her distance. She wanted to be as far away from human contact as possible.

"Fiona, calm down," Dash stated, trying not to sound agitated. The last thing she needed was for Fiona to get even more out of control. "It's over. Everything is going to be okay."

"Okay? Okay!?" Fiona shouted, outraged. "How!? How is anything going to be okay!? How can anything ever be okay?"

"It's going to be hard, Fiona, but you can't just run away from us," said Dash. "Listen, it's alright that you're sad about this, but being alone isn't going to help anything."

"But I'm not sad!" Fiona said, turning away. "I'm just angry. I'm angrier than I've ever been in my entire life!"

Dash was puzzled by this. "You're angry? At who?"

"I'm angry at myself!" Fiona stated, her voice cracking up. "I never should have lied to her. I should have told her everything, instead of hiding it like a coward. I should have always been there for her, and now I'll never get the chance…"

"There was nothing you could have done," Dash said truthfully, trying to ease her friend's mind. "You should be thankful you got to spend so much time with her in the first place. You couldn't have saved her."

Fiona stopped for a moment. Suddenly, her anger was redirected.

"It's… it's all your fault!" Fiona snapped, pointing at Dash accusingly. Dash was taken aback.

"My fault? I didn't do anything!" Dash claimed.

"Yes, you did! You let her die!" Fiona shouted. "You were supposed to watch over her. You were supposed to keep her safe. I trusted you to keep her safe, and you let her die! You failed to protect her! It's not like it even mattered to you. You never cared about her anyway."

Dash no longer tried to hold back her emotions. Her frustration came through in full force.

"Don't try to put this on me! Spark was my friend too!"

"Do you honestly think I'm supposed to believe you!? I've seen how you treat her. I've never once seen you treat her with any kind of respect. You won't even call her by her damn name! Why would I ever believe that you cared about her? Better yet, why would she ever bother caring about you?"

Dash growled. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you not see how this is affecting me, how this is affecting any of us!? Of course I cared about her! Why wouldn't I? Yeah, we fought a lot, but we were still fucking friends."

"Well she deserved better friends than you!" Fiona stated. "She didn't deserve to die because some selfish, thoughtless, insensitive girl acted far too careless with the lives of others. You led her to The Unknown! You were the one that killed her. Tara deserved far better than you in her life."

"Like you're some perfect example?" Dash asked in turn. "Do you think you're just some golden fucking idol, like a towering beacon of friendship that everyone struggles to get to? I hate to break it to you, Fiona, but I have every right to be upset about this as you do!"

"Don't act like you understand me! None of you could ever understand what this is like for me!" Fiona shouted furiously.

"Yes we do!" Dash stated. "We were all people who were close to her, whether you think we deserve it or not! So we all feel the same fucking way!"

Fiona had lost all control, when she finally screamed, "Well you weren't the one who was in love with her!"

Suddenly, everything became silent. Dash's expressions soften, as the truth dawned on her. Fiona hadn't realized what she said until it was far too late. Both girls were panting, feeling very tired. Fiona wasn't sure how to react. Truthfully, she couldn't care less of what Dash thought of her. She didn't care if Dash bothered to tell everyone else either. She felt far too empty to care at all. Defeated, Fiona sat on her bunk, and stared at the floor.

"Leave me alone," she said weakly. Dash took a tentative step forward.

"Fiona, I didn't—"

"Please…" Fiona begged. Her body trembled ever so slightly. "Just… just leave me alone."

Dash frowned. She looked on at Fiona's weak form for several moments. Then, with a sigh, she exited the room, and closed the door. She waited just outside, taking several deep breaths. Already, the sounds of sobbing faintly came to light from inside. She wanted to go back inside just to say something, but she knew of nothing to say. She wasn't good at making people feel better. All she was good at was making things worse. Reluctantly, Dash walked away. She probably should have returned to the medical bay with her friends. It was best that they stayed together through hard times. Yet Dash was sick of crying. She was sick of the sadness that stalked her life. She was simply sick of all of it. So instead, she simply walked to the training room, where she knew she could finally be in peace.

__________

March 23rd, 2016

Fiona was gone by the morning. She simply snuck away when everyone was asleep. None of the guards in the base claimed to have seen her, and no one had the slightest idea of where she could be headed. She had just vanished, only leaving behind a very simple note on her bed, reading, "I'm sorry."

Yet this was the least of Dash's concerns. She and the other girls were sitting in the Briefing Room, with packed bags and gloomy faces. AJ sat on the opposite side of the room, hiding her eyes beneath her hat. Celestia sat behind her desk, twiddling her thumbs in wait. She appeared equally defeated as the rest of them. There was another woman in the room, sitting on top of Celestia's desk. This woman was, as Dash assumed, Victoria Starleston, a member of the vicious "Rat Team" that had caused so much duress. However, Starleston did not appear sad at all, humming a cheery melody to herself while kicking her legs back and forth.

"I told you it was going to end badly," Starleston said in a singsong voice. "You shouldn't have done something like that to Price."

Celestia sighed grudgingly. "I'm sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."

"And?"

"And… thank you for not expelling me from my position. You are… truly gracious."

"That's better," Starleston said. She leaned over on the desk, and whispered in Celestia's ear. "You owe me one, got it?"

"Yes. I do," Celestia groaned. Satisfied with herself, Starleston slinked off of the desk like a feline, and happily walked out of the room. Her chipper mood only worsened the feelings of the P.O.N.Y's. They waited eagerly for her to leave the room, just to return the grim atmosphere that surrounded them. Celestia let out a saddened sigh.

"Girls, as you are aware," she began. She tried her very best to sound formal and business-like. "The passing of Miss Sullivan is quite hard for us to deal with. As it stands, this… unfortunate accident, coupled with several former wrongdoings, has earned us a lot of strife from the higher-ups. As such, it has been their unanimous decision to… shut down the Police Operative and Nonpareil Youths initiative. The operation, in whole, has been deemed a failure, and we are now unable to accommodate any of you in any way similar to this project. I'm… I'm sorry about this."

The room remained silent.

"As of now, considering that you are all of legal age, you are responsible for your own well-beings. However, as… compensation for the… tragic events you have suffered through, you will each receive a paycheck on the first of every month for five-thousand dollars. I know it's not much help in dealing with things, but… at least it's something. I recommend you girls stay low for a while. For those of you who have families, avoid contact until you think you're ready to face them. Remember, you're still sworn under secrecy of all events that occurred here. Aside from that, I can't really do much help but wish you girls luck in your endeavors."

Still, no one said anything. Celestia sighed. She sounded insensitive, and she knew it full well. Truthfully, she was thankful just to still be in work after the catastrophe of the past few months. Still, it was hard not to feel the weight of Tara's loss, especially given how much the poor girl had left in her life. She hated tragedy in youth. It struck a chord all too familiar with her. Given that she had nothing else left to say, she stood up, and left the room. However, just before she left, she turned her head around.

"I'm… I'm really sorry about all of this," she said. She forever left the room, closing the door tightly behind her. At last, the girls were alone. They showed no real emotion. All of their tears had been shed the day before. They were stripped of their identities, and left out in the cold, harsh world. For many of them, it came close to being the worst day of their life. Perhaps the worst part was that the day was still young, and there were many more hours left for them to wallow in.

Finally, after several excruciatingly quiet minutes, Pinky spoke up.

"I… I think I'm gonna go back to college," she stated. Softly. The noise pierced through the emptiness, attracting the girls to its position.

"You do realize that the semester is almost over right?" Dash asked questioningly. "Also, the people at Ymerton still think you're dead, or missing, or whatever."

"I didn't mean right now," said Pinky. "I meant in the fall. Besides, I was thinking of heading to Stanford anyway."

"Pinky, no offense, but how do you plan to get into Stanford university anyhow?" Rachel asked with a small amount of doubt. Pinky stared at her quizzically, as if the answer the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, they did send me a full scholarship," she said simply. Rachel was amazed by this.

"You got a scholarship to Stanford?"

Pinky let out a small laugh. "Yeah, for computer science. Remember how I knew how to hack all of those computers? You guys didn't think I got into Ymerton for baking, did you?"

Rachel then let out a small chuckle. She hadn't known why she would bother thinking something else. It felt so strange to laugh, almost foreign even. A part of her felt like it was wrong to be letting herself feel happy, but it gave her a sense of normalcy that she desperately needed. For a moment, it seemed like everything would be okay again.

"After I get everything straightened out, I'm going after Fiona," Rachel stated, somewhat shockingly. "She… she probably needs some friends right now."

"Do you even have any idea where she is?" Dash asked. Rachel shrugged.

"It can't be too hard. I have her number," Rachel said. "Besides, how many places could she go? Something tells me it won't be too hard to find her."

"Hey, good luck with that," Dash said, actually sounding sincere. "She could use a friend like you." Rachel smiled lightly at the comment. Ever since Tara's death, Dash actually became much more likeable. It was very strange indeed that such a horrific tragedy could bring about such honest change.

The girls sat in silence for another few minutes. It was finally ending. After months of dedication, their lives ended not with a bang, but with a whimper.

"This… this is actually it, isn't it?" Pinky said softly. "I'm gonna miss you guys."

"We'll stay in touch, right?" Rachel asked hopefully. "I mean, it's not like we're never going to see each other."

"Yeah, of course," Dash agreed half-heartedly. "Friends stick together. Spark… probably would have wanted that."

Once again, everyone was silent. In the corner of the room, AJ glanced away. She wasn't very good at saying goodbye. If someone had tried to talk to her, she wouldn't have had the energy to respond. Thankfully, whether it be out of sheer coincidence or plain respect, her friends left her alone. No one said anything after that. Rachel was the first to stand up.

"I'll let you know when I find her," Rachel stated, tossing her bag over her shoulder. She bent over with some struggle, and picked up her crutches. "Pinky, would you mind helping me a little?"

"Sure. Of course," Pinky replied softly. She threw her back over her shoulder as well, and opened the door for her blind friend. Rachel slowly left the room, muttering something to herself along the way. Pinky briefly turned back to the others.

"See you soon," she said, clearly nervous. Dash gave a small nod.

"Don't go too crazy without me," she said with a smirk. Pinky smiled as well.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

With that, Pinky left the room, and closed the door behind her. Dash sighed, and stood up from her seat. She couldn't help but look at AJ, who refused to look back. It suddenly dawned on her why AJ was so upset: she would never see any of them ever again. AJ still worked for Celestia, stuck forever in a chain of top secrecy and conspiracy. None of them would ever hear from her again. AJ could die on a mission, and none of them would ever find out. Once Dash left, AJ would be truly alone once again.

Worst of all, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

"AJ, listen," Dash said somberly. "In case something goes wrong, or I don't see you again, I… I just wanted to say thank you. I don't know what you plan to do with your life, but I… hope you find something truly meaningful to you. Really."

AJ frowned slightly, although it was almost indistinguishable. Dash sighed, realizing that she would get no response. She took one final look around the room, absorbing all of the memories it contained. She opened the door.

"Rebecca."

Dash stopped dead in her tracks, and turned around. AJ stared directly at her. She rose from her chair, and walked right in front of her. She held out her hand, steady as a rock. Dash looked at it for a moment, understanding the situation perfectly, like she always did. Without a second thought, she pulled AJ into a hug. Satisfyingly, she felt her friend hug back.

"Good luck," AJ said plainly, although her voice echoed her feeling of loneliness.

"You too," Dash replied earnestly. The hug seemed to last an eternity. At last, the two friends released each other, and gave one final nod: a sign of respect. Dash took a deep breath, and then exited the room. AJ stared at the door in silence as it closed back into position. She wanted to follow Dash outside, but knew that she had nowhere left to go.

She was alone once again.

To Be Concluded…

Epilogue II: The Broken Path We Follow

Epilogue II: The Broken Path We Follow

Fiona Andrea Samswell

Haddonfield was practically deserted during Sunday mornings. This was due to the fact that nearly every single soul in the town gathered at the local church, celebrating their Lord and Savior. During her childhood, Fiona loved going to the church. She had been taught from a very young age that it was the proper thing to do, and each moment she spent their felt like she was in the presence of a holier, wiser being. She recalled the feeling to be sensational, hearing the stories of her past and the eventual future. In some ways, it was all that really mattered to her.

As of late, she wished the place would just burn to the ground. The only good thing that ever came of it was that it emptied the streets throughout the town, giving Fiona plenty of peace and quiet as she wandered about. It gave her time to think without the risk of being hazed. Then again, she wasn't even sure if anyone would still recognize her, or if anyone would still care. She preferred not to take a chance.

She wondered why she ever bothered coming back. Her movements for the past countless days were entirely automatic. She never stayed in any one place for more than a night, just to catch a few hours rest. She would have felt horrible about stealing one of the cars from Camelot, but her emotions had been rather muted recently. She suspected that her judgment might have been muted as well. It was the only reason why she would return to such a horrid place.

Then again, perhaps it was really the only place she could have gone to. She didn't have a home anymore. She didn't have a job. She didn't have any friends. Her life had become so messed up in such a short period of time that, perhaps, she craved the familiar. It didn't really matter what had happened there. She just needed evidence that her life wasn't falling apart. She just assumed that was why she remained so calm throughout everything: she searched for something to attach to. That was all she was, really: a parasite, leaching off of the feelings of others to sustain her own sense of worth.

As she continued to walk about the central square, she considered what she was going to do next. At first, she considered calling Jacob, who was probably the closest thing she had to a friend at that point. However, she quickly realized that she had no means to contact him. Tara was the one who knew his number. She remembered to share it. The sheer thought of Tara nearly brought out another bought of tears, but Fiona managed to suppress herself down once again. She tried to make herself feel better by repeatedly telling herself that it was a dumb plan, anyhow. What was she supposed to talk to him about? Her incredible, daring life as a secret agent? How she just lost the person she cared for most in the world? He probably wouldn't understand, or worse, tell her to get herself "help for her illness".

Fiona left the square without even realizing it. Her mechanical movements meant nothing to her. Unconsciously, she drifted about the town. Fiona wondered where she was going to live. She had rented out a motel room on the outskirts of the town, but could barely afford to pay for little more than a week. Surely, at some point, she would have to move on. The main problem was that she had nowhere to go, and if she were honest with herself, she didn't want to leave anyway. Despite the hurt, Fiona needed to stay in Haddonfield for as long as possible, just until her life got back on track. She supposed she could try to get a house, but she quickly realized that it was an impossible feat.

Before Fiona knew it, she had entered an avenue lined with houses. She walked forward aimlessly. Most importantly, Fiona thought about what to do with her life. Everything really seemed meaningless to her. Ever since she was young, Fiona had a deep fascination with animals; after all, it was her major. Yet she doubted a school would accept her given the lack of money. Not to mention, she couldn't stand to look at animals anymore. If she looked at animals, she thought of the book. If she thought of the book, she would have thought of her. Her mind was too distraught to come up with any other logical options, even though she was sure they existed. It was impossible to face the future.

But then, Fiona realized that she didn't have to face the future at all. In the town square, there was a clock tower, easily standing twenty feet tall. She knew the way up to the roof. If she wanted to, she could end it all. There would be no more pain, no more mourning, and no more regret. She wouldn't have to be alone anymore. She wouldn't have to face every new day with uncertainty.

She would be able to see Tara again.

Fiona stopped dead in her tracks. She didn't realize why. She knew that she wasn't paying attention to where she was headed, but she had not expected to walk so far. Her actions were out of her hands. Something in her bones simply told her to stop moving at this particular spot. Fiona realized she had been staring at the ground, so she looked up. Her surroundings felt far too familiar. The houses, the trees, and every other little detail cause a knot to get stuck in her throat. Fiona froze in absolute terror. Slowly, she turned her head to the left.

She was standing in front of her house. It was barely recognizable. The once blue paint that lined the walls was now chipped and peeling. The windows, which were always kept open in her childhood, were shut. There were no longer any cars left in the driveway. The grass was now brown and dead and the entire structure stood in place like a specter. It seemed to have been abandoned a long time ago.

Fiona stared at the house for a very long time. So long, in fact, that her eyes had begun to water, either from the intensity of her stare or the sheer emotions she was facing. This was the place her life was ruined. It was in this house that she lost faith in everything that was good in the world, a faith that would take six long years to be restored. If she believed in anything evil, it would most certainly be the building before her.

Fiona clenched her fist and growled. Desperately, she searched the ground for stones. She managed to pick up a cluster, and began viciously throwing them at the house. She threw the stones madly, unable to aim as the hatred burst out from within her. With each stone throw her cries increased, until she finally let out all of her rage that had built-up since she had arrived. One stone managed to break through a window on the bottom floor, although the majority simply bounced off of the framing.

Once Fiona had run out of stones, she simply stood in the driveway, breathing heavily as the tears welled up in her eyes. She hurriedly brushed them away. She began to back away from the ghost, trying to regain her composure. She knew that nothing had changed: she was still alone, lost, and confused. Throwing stones meant nothing, especially to something that was already dead. Not wanting to handle any more emotional stress, Fiona quickly walked down the street. She had to leave town. She had to get out before the pain came back. She needed to get away as fast as possible, at whatever the cost, even if it was her own life. As she reached the end of the street, Fiona gave one last glance to her old life.

CRASH

The next thing Fiona knew, she was on her back. She rolled to her side, and noticed that some girl was on her hands and knees, panting heavily. The girl roughly looked about Fiona's age, although Fiona couldn't see her face to prove it. The girl, whoever she happened to be, had long, silver-blue hair, that ran over her shoulders and down her back. Fiona shook away the sudden shock.

"I'm so sorry," Fiona said quickly, slowly getting to her feet. "I didn't mean to—"

Without any warning, a large man charged at the young woman, kicking her hard in the stomach. She fell over, holding her arms over the wound. Through the hair fallen over her face, Fiona could make out a deep red. The young woman seemed very badly wounded.

"Don't try to fucking rob me!" the man screamed, kicking the girl in her side once more. At once, Fiona jumped up, and tried to push the man away.

"Hey! Leave her alone!" Fiona stated in a panic. She had no idea what was going on, yet her instincts guided her. She had allowed far too many people to get hurt in the past, and she refused to leave someone helpless to die. However, she was shoved away forcefully, forcing her to the ground.

"Stay out of this!" the man ordered. "This has nothing to do with you. Just go and get out of here." He punctuated his sentence by kicking the girl in the side again. Fiona growled, and stood back up again.

"Get away from her!" Fiona said angrily. Without any warning, the man whipped around, and attempted to punch Fiona head-on. However, she effortlessly slid to the ground, wrapped one leg behind his, and sent him sailing into the pavement. By the time he reached the ground, Fiona had grabbed onto his arm, and rotated it sharply backwards. The man screamed in agony as Fiona held his arm at an improper angle.

"Now, you're going to leave this girl alone, got it?" Fiona said sternly.

"Oh God, you're breaking my arm. Let go of me!"

"Got it!?" Fiona repeated, increasing the strain. The man started to nod desperately.

"I got it! I got it!" he yelled. With a grunt, Fiona released the man, and he ran away in fear. She thought to go after him, but realized that she had much bigger matters to attend to. She wiped the hair out of her face, and knelt down beside the wounded girl.

"Hey, are you alright?" Fiona asked softly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said the girl. She let out a groan as she rose to her hands and knees.

"You're bleeding a lot," Fiona stated. She reached out a hand. "I think we need to get you some help."

"No, no, I'm fine," the girl stated hurriedly. "Just… just give me a minute. Ugh…"

Fiona placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Look, you need help. Let me see your face."

"I'm fine," the girl repeated, more sternly. She sounded very weak to Fiona, which only gave her more encouragement to help. Without a second thought, Fiona lightly grabbed the girl's head, and rotated it towards her.

"I need to see your—" Fiona's eyes went wide, and she froze in place. She began to tremble. It seemed absolutely impossible, yet there it was right before her. She stared directly at the girl's face for what felt like hours, unable to let go. She thought she was about to cry.

She was looking at Tara.

Fiona tried shaking the idea out of her mind. Clearly, it wasn't Tara. It couldn't be Tara. It wouldn't make any sense. Yet there Tara was, staring back at her with a bloody forehead and confused complexion. Slowly though, Fiona began to notice slight differences in the girl's face. Her eyes were wider than Tara's, and her nose was not nearly as rigid. Her lips were fuller as well, although Fiona wondered whether it was natural or simply an effect of the girl's lipstick. Either way, the similarity was uncanny enough to make Fiona stumble.

"Does it really look that bad?" asked the girl. Fiona stammered about uncomfortably.

"Uh… no, it's… it's not too bad," Fiona said nervously. "But still, you should get that looked at."

The girl groaned in frustration, wobbly standing up. "I can take care of myself. Thanks." However, she quickly fell back to her knees. Fiona caught her, and supported her weight.

"That's it. I'm getting you to a doctor," Fiona stated. The girl suddenly became terrified.

"No doctors!" she said forcefully. "No medical attention. I can't afford that… in more ways than one." The girl wrapped her arm around Fiona's shoulder, carefully balancing her weight. "Just… can you take me to your house for a few minutes? I don't really have a place to stay."

Fiona opened her mouth to say something. Such a request was ridiculous. She had no idea what the girl's name was, and she was thinking of inviting her into her home (which wasn't much of a home at all). However, Fiona couldn't help but agree. How could she possibly say no to a face like that?

With a nod, Fiona and the girl began to slowly make their way to the motel, which luckily was not terribly far away.

"So, what's your name?" Fiona asked lightly. The girl put on a slight smirk.

"I, my friend, am known far and wide as the Great and Power—" The girl suddenly gasped in pain. "Okay, screw fancy introductions. This really hurts. It's, uh, Trixie. Trixie Langstrom."

"Fiona Samswell."

"Well, Fiona, thanks for helping me out back there," said Trixie. "That guy was a fucking psychopath."

"Why was he attacking you like that?" Fiona asked curiously. "And also, what was with the 'fancy introduction' anyway?"

"It's my stage name," Trixie replied. "I'm, uh… working as a magician. It's sorta my passion."

"A magician?" Fiona asked, almost doubtingly. "Like… with a rabbit and a hat?"

"Street magician," Trixie corrected. "I'm more of a fan of card tricks than rabbits. Also, please never mention those magicians again. I hate stereotypes."

"Sorry," Fiona said honestly. "You still haven't told me why that guy attacked you."

"Yeah, well, I've been traveling around a lot. It's hard to find a place to settle down when you constantly have to find new gigs to live. I was passing through here on a way to a gig in Charleston. I… well, I didn't have a lot of money left, and I had done some things like this before, so—"

"Wait," Fiona said shocked. "You actually robbed somebody?"

"Eh… technically," Trixie said bashfully. "It was more of a scam than anything else. When you're good at sleight of hand, it's not too hard to learn the tricks of three card monte. I just… it was a stupid mistake, alright? I'd rather not think about it."

Fiona said nothing throughout the rest of their walk. Trixie may have borne resemblance to Tara, but she certainly was not the same person. Even based on the few minutes they shared together, Fiona was easily able to tell that the girl was not the kind of person she would like to spend time with. Trixie seemed brash, irresponsible, overconfident, and a tad bit rude. And yet, why did Fiona want to remain close to her? Why was she so intent on helping this girl to the very end?

Without even realizing it, the girls had reached the motel. Trixie looked at the building with a raised eyebrow.

"Huh. Not really the best of living conditions, are they?" she said mildly. Fiona quickly opened the door to her room, and helped Trixie inside. Very carefully, Fiona helped Trixie into the bed, hearing the wounded magician's moans all throughout the process. Once Trixie was settled, Fiona took off towards the bathroom, searching for anything she could to treat the wounds. The medicine cabinet was mostly empty, save for some gauze and a few bandages. Fiona took it all, and then found a wash cloth, wet it in the sink, and carried it all back to her patient.

"This should help you," Fiona said, pressing the damp cloth to Trixie's forehead. Trixie held the object in place as Fiona began to apply bandages to her arms.

"Hey, thanks for helping me out," Trixie said honestly. "It's… not really something a lot of people would do for someone they just met.'

"It's not a big deal," Fiona said, not looking up. "I try to help people whenever I'm able to."

"Look, this is really sweet of you. I owe you big time."

"You really don't."

"I really do. How about I buy you a cup of coffee or something? It's the least I can do for you."

"I don't drink coffee," Fiona stated. Trixie sighed.

"Fine then. I'll buy myself coffee, and you can come along to watch me drink it. It'll give us some time to hang out."

"I… I'm not sure," Fiona said nervously. For a moment, it sounded like she was being asked on a date. She supposed she was, but she also doubted that that was the original intention. She still had no idea what she was going to do with her life. Meeting Trixie was never a part of the plan, and she really wanted to just forget the whole incident ever happened. However, something kept drawing her back in.

"Pleeeeeease," Trixie pouted. Fiona couldn't help but admit to herself that the childish plead sounded adorable. She finally sighed in acceptance.

"Sure. I'll go watch you drink coffee," Fiona said with a small smile.

"Damn right you will," said Trixie. "Just… not tomorrow… or the day after that. In fact, let's just wait until after I make sure I don't have a concussion. That cool?"

"Uh, yeah," Fiona said, continuing to work on bandaging the wounds. "Whatever you say."

Satisfied, Trixie closed her eyes, trying to soothe away the pain. Fiona couldn't help herself but stare at Trixie's face. It was one of the strangest feelings she ever had in her life. No matter what she did, she couldn't look away. Even as she continued to work, she kept glancing back at the face which so closely resembled the thing she loved most.

__________

Rachel Elizabeth Germain

Rachel could have sworn that the taxi driver was trying to kill her on purpose. By the way she kept bouncing around in her seat, she had come to the solitary conclusion that this particular cab driver hated Europeans, and the sheer thought of driving one around was driving him to insanity. She couldn't help but recall a family trip to London when she was much younger. There, the cabs were quite elegant, and the drivers treated her with far more respect. She always knew things would be different in the States. She just had not expected it to be so ugly.

She should have felt excited. New York City was one of the most, if not the most famous city in the entire world. The variety of activities was simply unbelievable, so much so that it seemed almost unreal. Unfortunately, two things were currently ruining the entire experience for her. The first was the taxi, which drove far too fast on a narrow road packed with unaware tourists. The second was the exact nature of why she had come to the Big Apple in the first place: a doctor's appointment.

Two days beforehand, Rachel was surprised to have received a note from none other than Bridgette Celestia. Although the exact details of the note were vague, Rachel was essentially told that her "case" had been informed of to a prestigious doctor, and he had requested that she come at once to his offices to visit him. Despite the fact that there were several cases that Celestia could have been referring to, Rachel reluctantly set an appointment, and took the day-long trek from her newly-rented apartment in Connecticut to New York.

Rachel was violently thrown back to reality when the cab suddenly stopped, and Rachel was jolted forward. The cab driver shouted something in Indian, and Rachel quickly handed over whatever money she had in her pocket. She got out of the vehicle without hesitation, thankful to be back on stable ground. If anything good came out of her sudden bout of panic, it was that the adrenaline pumping through her veins allowed her to see everything around her.

Luckily, she discovered that the building she sought happened to be right next to her. A quick brush of her hand against the nearby wall revealed the location of a plaque with the address on it. She also was able to discover exactly why she had been summoned: the address was written in braille.

Interesting, Rachel couldn't help but think as she entered the building. The first thing that hit her was a sudden rush of cold air. It wasn't particularly hot outside, yet the air conditioning was turned up very high. Secretly, Rachel had begun to wish that she brought a coat. The next thing Rachel noticed was the vastness of the room she was in. Her feet planted firmly against the floor: it was tile. She heard music echoing from far away: the room had plenty of height to the ceiling. She heard the light tapping of shoes: she was not alone.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" a woman called out. "Do you have an appointment?" Rachel quickly turned her head towards the voice.

"Um, I think so," Rachel stated, slightly unsure. "I received a message telling me to come here. Would you know anything about that?"

The woman said nothing for a few moments.

"Oh, wait," she finally spoke. "You must be that young woman we got the email about." Then, the woman muttered to herself, "What do you know? She really is hard to miss."

"I heard that," Rachel said, slightly puzzled. The woman then went silent again.

"Please come with me, dear," the woman said again. Rachel heard a door squeak open somewhere near the woman, and walked towards it. She thought that she heard whispering around her, although she could not make out what they were saying. From past experience, she suspected either people gawking at her like a trophy, or people grumbling bitterly about being cut in line for seeing a doctor. Either way, Rachel cared to ignore it.

As the adrenaline wore off, Rachel began using her cane once again to guide her. From the banging of the walls, she realized she had entered a tight corridor, almost claustrophobically so. It was probably to prevent the more disabled patients from getting lost, but it didn't make her feel any more comfortable. Eventually, she was led into a small room, and instructed to wait on an examining table for her doctor to arrive. The door was shut behind her, leaving her alone.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Rachel?" she asked herself as she pressed her palm against the wall. She inched her way around the room, feeling around for the supposed table. It took her a few moments to finally find her way, which annoyed her very much considerably. Anytime her blindness interfered with her life (which became more and more constant as time went on), she secretly hated herself. It made her feel just a bit more worthless each moment. He knew she had no right to complain, given the rare abilities the MACER Device had bestowed upon her. And yet, she couldn't help but live with a sense of disappointment in herself.

She should have been thankful to just be alive. The thought struck in her head like a bolt of lightning, making her tense up. She knew she was acting quite selfish. A life of sightlessness was better than no life at all. She shook away the thoughts all at once. Rachel refused to let her mind settle on that particular issue. She had other things to think about at the current time. There would always be a time for mourning. It just wasn't now.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and the sound of footsteps entered the room.

"Ah," said a baritone voice. "You must be Rachel. I've heard quite a bit about you."

Immediately, Rachel felt a sense of bizarre relief. "Oh my God, an Englishman!" she practically shouted. She threw her head back to the table, sprawling her arms out. "Damn, that's wonderful."

"Um… am I supposed to be celebrating that or something?" asked the man in a half-joking manner. Rachel straightened herself out.

"No, it's just… I don't know why, but it feels really good to hear someone talk normally for once. After the past year, I need some familiarity."

"I can tell," he said, taking a seat. "You look absolutely buzzing with anticipation. By the way, I'm Dr. Blue."

"Rachel, but you already know that," Rachel said. She was wearing down from a high that she had never known started. "Essex, by the way. Just… just want to make that clear."

"You know, I do actually have something important to talk about," Dr. Blue said.

"Sorry," Rachel said hastily. "Quick question, though: how exactly did you find me?"

"Well, I got an email from some 'Celestia' woman. She told me about your… problem, and asked me to help."

"And by problem, I assume she means these," Rachel said, pointing towards her face.

"Correct," confirmed Blue. "You probably have no idea who I am; I'm not actually an optometrist."

Rachel tilted her head in confusion. "But the sign outside was written in braille."

"Well, yes, most buildings in New York are like that. I'm pretty sure that a lot of buildings are like that in first-world countries."

Rachel thought about it for a moment. She suddenly felt like an idiot. It had been a long while since she had been a part of the normal world that such a simple thought had slipped her mind. It wasn't like it was something that she noticed before anyway, but she felt like she should have known something so obvious. It actually worried her a little. If she had forgotten something like that, what else had she forgotten? What common knowledge about the world was pushed aside in order for her to become a soldier?

"I'm actually a bit of an engineer," Dr. Blue continued. "I spent ten years studying human biology in order to make more advanced prosthetic limbs for those in need of them. Coupling that with a minor in robotics, we've been able to make some outstanding things over the past few years. It's been a slow process, but as technology becomes more advanced, the more we are able to produce. Now, we're… well, trying something new with our abilities."

Rachel took this in. Could he be serious?

"You're not actually suggesting what I think you're suggesting, are you Dr. Blue?" Rachel asked nervously. She gripped the bed tightly in anticipation. If she could she, she would have seen the doctor smile to himself.

"Miss Germain," he said. "How would you like to see again?"

Rachel said absolutely nothing. The joking manner of the conversation had been completely swept away. In its place, she felt nothing but disbelief. It took her a long while to let the words sink in for her. She wasn't entirely sure what to think. It seemed like a dream. At any moment now, she would awaken, return to her life of darkness and abandonment. Yet as the seconds ticked by, she came to the conclusion that she was not, in fact, asleep at all. She was actually being offered a chance to regain her sight, her life.

Rachel let out a laugh.

"That's… that's impossible," she stated with a smile. "You can't help me with that. No one can help me with that. I have seen a lot of crazy things in my life, but there's one thing I'm certain of: you can't get your eyes back."

The doctor let out a sound of amusement. "I'm not trying to get your eyes back. I'm going to replace them with something better."

"Better?"

"You see, the eyes are like a camera," Dr. Blue explained. "Their sole purpose is to send data in the form of impulses back to the brain for interpretation. It's a process so incredible that—"

"It can't be done," Rachel interrupted. "I looked into it. We don't have the technology to match the incredible complexity that is the human eye. Trust me, I know."

"And that's where you're wrong. I think that I have come up with something just like that: an incredible micro-camera that accurately records and displays information in less than half of a second, even faster than the standard reaction time for a normal human being. Its connected to a series of neuron plugs that—"

"Directly send the feedback into my brain. Of course, in order to do that, you'd need—"

"A constant flowing, self-contained electrical current that can mathematically predict which colors to appear in which order to allow your brain to process the information, as well as a filter to cast out excessive dust particles and a high-definition range that only accounts for the space of the tip of your pinky."

Rachel stared wide-eyed at the man, her glass eyes gazing off to the left of his head. She had to admit it: she was impressed.

"So, I'm assuming," Rachel said hesitantly. "That this process to attach these 'miracle eyes' isn't very safe."

The doctor remained quiet for a moment. "Well, it requires lengthy and delicate surgery involving splitting your skull apart to reach your eye sockets, removing the damaged nerve tissue, attaching electrical wiring to your brain, and making sure nothing explodes, as… well, human testing hasn't been much of an option. There aren't too many people in the world who have no eyes in their head. To be perfectly honest… there's a very high chance you won't survive. Even if the operation were to go off perfectly, the results of using the eyes could be very unpredictable."

"Then why did you even bring me here?" Rachel asked, quite annoyed. "If you know it's not going to work, then why even bring it up?"

"Because it will work," Dr. Blue stated firmly. "I've spent years of my life researching this. If we are right about this, it could just be the beginning. Imagine robotics revolutionizing the world. Your friend, Celestia, told me that you once provided schematics to robotic legs for your friend who had injured herself. I've heard you speak right now and you sounded like the smartest nineteen year-old I've ever met. Clearly, you know where I'm coming from on this. Don't tell me the idea doesn't sounded exciting to you."

"It's not that," Rachel said, more restrained. "I just… I used to think about throwing my life on the line for cybernetics. I never thought I'd actually want to do that. It just seems a little—"

"Please, think of all the good it could do," the doctor begged. "If your surgery goes well, the funding we'd get is astronomical. We'd be able to help people all over the country. It's risky as hell, but the payoff is by far worth it. Wouldn't you like to make your life worth something extraordinary?"

Rachel opened her mouth to speak. She had damned science many years ago, and it had set her on a path of heartbreak. She had thought that it would be wrong to return, to turn back on her life now that everything had already been lost. Maybe though, she had it wrong the entire time. Perhaps running from what she cared for did not protect anyone. Perhaps, it just hurt them more.

Even for the blind, she saw a final chance to redeem herself for what she had done in the past.

"Alright," Rachel said softly. "I'll… I'll agree to be your guinea pig. For science."

"Excellent," Dr. Blue stated. "We've been preparing for this for a long time. If you want, we can perform the operation in two weeks' time."

Two weeks, Rachel thought to herself. In two weeks, everything would change, for better or for worse.

"I… I think I could do that," Rachel agreed. "I'd be out the entire time, right? Wouldn't feel a thing?"

"Wouldn't feel a thing," the doctor repeated gladly. Rachel nodded. She realized deep down that she had no other choice but to accept. She needed something to do with her life other than wallow with her friends in grief. Tara's death made her realize just how short life actually was. She couldn't afford to spend it moping. She needed to be free, to explore the world. And she couldn't well do that if she was blind.

The next two weeks flew by in a haze. Rachel spent the entire time getting her affairs in order. She had high hopes for the surgery, but she needed to prepare for the worst. She called all of her friends, leaving messages for them telling them that she cared for them dearly. She attempted to contact her mother who wanted nothing to do with her, and her father who wasn't even sure if she was still alive. She talked to neither of them. Most days she spent lying on her bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. She felt a constant feeling of worrying and regret. But deep down, she knew everything would be okay.

Everything will be okay, she thought continuously. Everything will be okay.

Rachel thought this when the day of her operation finally fell upon her, and she traveled back down to New York City.

Everything will be okay.

Rachel thought this nonstop as she was forced to disrobe, and was put in a hospital gown.

Everything will be okay.

Rachel never let go of hope as she lied down on a medical table, and heard the sounds of doctors and nurses around her. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths as a needle entered her arm.

"Are you ready?" asked Dr. Blue, who hovered above her. Rachel made light of the topic.

"Ready to die at your hands," she joked.

"Glad you're so optimistic," he said. "Supplying the anesthesia now. Don't worry. You won't feel a thing."

"Got it," Rachel said breathlessly. She knew that at any moment, the drugs would take over, and she may never wake up again. Considering this greatly, she suddenly spat out, "If I survive this, I'm getting a doctorate in cybernetic engineering. It's… it's what I want to do with my life."

"And you'll be great at it," the doctor reassured with a smile. "You're a natural."

Rachel took another deep breath. If she had the ability to cry, she surely would have done so.

Everything will be okay. Everything will be—

—okay.

Suddenly, Rachel woke up. She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep. However, there was one thing that made her understand what had happened, and become absolutely shocked. It wasn't the faint sounds of relief by the doctors. It wasn't the splitting headache she had. It wasn't the feeling of a pillow against her skull.

The ceiling was blue.

__________

Patricia Marie Patrikson

Someone had just attempted to spike her drink. Pinky was sure of it. She had set her punch down for one minute, and she noticed a group of guys walking nearby. She didn't trust any of them.

Pinky, several years ago, was known as a "party animal". Of all of the insane and ludicrous stories that Dash had made up about her, that one actually held some truth. Granted, she wasn't a fan of drinking or smoking, or doing any sort of drugs during said parties, but she did enjoy them. They were a simple escape for her. The music, the dancing, and the atmosphere gave her a place to relax. There were no worries to be had at a party. She had all the time in the world to think things over. This was exactly why she bothered taking the two hour drive to Hartman College. She needed time to think.

As a rule, Pinky never let herself be sad during parties. It defied the reason for parties even existing. As such, she didn't cry when she thought about Tara. It was actually quite sad for her to think about. What she was different, however, was not that she was sad because of what was lost, but because of what she never had. Pinky, when she really thought about it, hadn't known Tara all that well. At the very least, she hadn't formed the same everlasting bond that Fiona or AJ had. As she recalled, most of the conversations she had with Tara usually involved her being yelled at for doing something stupid, or being ordered to shoot someone. They had never talked casually, which Pinky saw as quite a shame.

The only time Pinky really noticed that she and Tara were close was during the fiasco with Chrysalis. Pinky very fondly remembered bonding over a cupcake, and talking quite seriously about loss. Pinky remembered the exact look of surprise on Tara's face when she opened up about her past. For some strange reason, everyone at P.O.N.Y. had a preconception that she was dumb, and had no real knowledge of the world. Pinky herself only partially agreed with that. She had an entire journal to describe otherwise. So, when Tara had shown such surprise at Pinky being able to feel more than one persistent emotion, Pinky merely shrugged it off as typical behavior, and continued telling her story.

It seemed so long ago, yet it was only just over a month. So much had changed so quickly.

Pinky needed a change of pace. She had been waiting by the wall for far too long. The fraternity house she was in was filled with purple and green people and obnoxiously loud music. Pinky slowly waded through the crowd of drunken college kids, trying to find a relatively open center. She eventually found what she was looking for in the form of a living room, covered with posters of sleazy women. There were still teenagers mindlessly dancing around her, unaware of the true horrors of the world. If only they had seen what she had seen. If only they could understand the pain she had felt. Maybe the world would be a safer place if they did. Pinky closed her eyes, and allowed her head to bob up and down to the rhythm of the techno drone that never let up.

She wondered if anyone hated her. It was always a thought that occasionally crossed her mind. She knew full well that people found her grating at times; a never-ending stream of consciousness would do that. However, she specifically wondered if any of her friends had hated her. She supposed she wouldn't want to spend nine months with someone as imaginative as her either. The jokes were probably tiresome.

She took a brief pause from her worrying to notice how nice it was that she could think about these things without being stressed. And then, someone tapped her on the shoulder, and her solace was gone. Someone else then bumped into her other shoulder, and then someone rubbed against her back. Pinky then remembered that she was at a frat party.

"Hey, babe. How's it going?" someone asked her.

"Holy shit, you're hot," said someone else. The comments began to flow one after another.

"I got you a drink."

"Do you want to dance?"

"How about we go upstairs?"

"Ever kissed a girl before?"

"I am so high right now."

Pinky groaned internally. She was never going to get time to herself. One of the only downsides to being at a party was that she had to spend time with other partiers. Several years ago, she would have loved their drunken shenanigans. But she was a changed woman. It was almost like she finally grew up, despite the fact that to her it sounded terrifying. She just wanted some simple peace and quiet. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Hey guys, look!" Pinky suddenly shouted, pointing off in a random direction. "Alice and Jane are making-out with each other on the table!"

As she predicted, the majority of the partiers turned their heads, despite the fact no two women probably existed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Pinky dashed off from the group, moving quickly through the crowd. She pushed her way past horny teens and cups of beer, trying to find a place where she could be alone with her thoughts.

At some point on her travel, Pinky finally realized that she had probably changed for the worse. She was at a party, a place meant solely of one's entertainment, and she wanted nothing to do with it. She was too depressed to fully let herself have fun. In fact, having fun seemed to be a very bad thing to do. She felt as if someone would slap her for even attempting it. Many years ago, she made a promise to herself never to let life bring her down again. She was supposed to prove that she was better than what the cruel world wanted her to be. She made a promise that she would never let her spirit go. And now, all she wanted to do was slink down into a corner and rest. Perhaps she was just growing cynical. Perhaps, she was just growing up.

Suddenly, someone placed a hand upon her shoulder, and spun her around. Pinky nearly jumped out of her skin at the contact of someone else's flesh. She found herself staring eye-to-eye with a boy her age. She made a quick series of notes about him in her head. His hair had a fair amount of gel in it, so it remained slicked back when gravity should have denied it so. His eyes were hazel, a most unnatural color. His clothes were not that of modesty, indicating that he thought high of himself. He had a cocky smile, which meant that he thought he could get anything he wanted. Pinky quickly realized that she might have been the intended prize.

"Hey, slow down there," said the guy, who Pinky had imagined was named, "Ricky".

"Hi, hello," Pinky said with a small laugh. "You really have a grip there. I mean, that's pretty impressive for a skinny guy like you. Not to say skinny guys are bad or anything or don't have any muscle, if that offended you. I'm just saying—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?" asked Ricky.

"Oh yeah, what isn't there to talk about?" Pinky said quickly. Her words began to come out faster and faster, a technique which she knew how to use quite efficiently. "I mean, when I'm not talking I feel like I'm wasting time, and talking is just such a good way to know people because without we'd barely have any society left functioning, right?"

"Um… okay," Ricky said. "Say, I haven't seen you around here before. What's your major?"

Shooting people, is what Pinky resisted to say, although she would have very much liked to.

"Oh, computer stuff, gizmos, things like that," Pinky said nervously. She couldn't help but notice that Ricky was inching his way closer and closer to her. "Look, I hope you don't mind, but I've got a friend to meet up way over there, so I have to go now."

"I'll come with you," Ricky said, grabbing onto one of her gloved hands. "Or better yet, we could just get to know each other for a little while. I'm sure your friend can wait."

"Heh heh," Pinky said, slowly pulling her hand away. She was rapidly changing from nervous to disturbed. "I think it's great that you're trying to help me, but I really need to go—"

"But there's still so much we have to do," Ricky said a bit more forcefully, tightening his grip on her hand. Suddenly, Pinky became very worried. She tugged viciously on her arm, but Ricky's grip was consistently strong.

"Hey buster, let go of me," Pinky said sternly. "I'm not interested."

"No one's interested unless they take a chance," Ricky said, sounding more intent on reaching his goal. "Maybe I'll get you a few drinks; loosen you up a little. You won't be so arrogant then."

"Seriously, dude, back the hell off," Pinky snapped. Her fear had transformed into irritation. She was ready to unleash her fury on Ricky at any given moment.

And then, she was forcefully shoved to the ground. She never saw it coming. She was suddenly on her side, groaning in pain. Barely anyone around seemed to notice, and if they did, they were too drunk to care. Ricky stood over her with a scowl. He was finished playing games. Thankfully, so was Pinky. She glared at him as she slowly bent over, and removed the glove from her hand.

"Alright, you bitch," Ricky said, grabbing onto Pinky's arm. "Why don't you—"

Without warning, Pinky screamed and jumped to her feet. She lunged on top of Ricky, and aggressively pressed her hand to his forehead. He went wide-eyed as pain quickly ran through his mind. Pinky gripped his flesh tightly, feeling his memories soak into her mind. She saw his history of pampering and given gifts. She saw how he treated the maids who worked at his house. She saw that through everything he had been given, he had never once showed compassion to someone.

However, he saw all of her pain as well. Within his mind flashes of death and torture appeared, along with the tormented souls of those who were lost. The pain was overwhelming. He could not think straight, and began to spasm where he stood. It was a full sixty seconds before Pinky let go. When she finally did, Ricky stumbled backwards into a wall, and collapsed to the ground with a loud thud. Everyone around was attracted to the intention, and Pinky did the first thing she thought to do: she ran for the exit. It was in a panic that Pinky burst a hole in the crowd and managed to get out of the frat house. Her head was killing her, and she found that she was short of breath. She rested her hands on her knees, and she stood in the front yard and observed the house.

She had just transferred her memories to that man. She no idea she could even do that. For the brief moment that they shared contact, Pinky had shared her curse with someone else. She made them experience her entire life's worth of pain in a moment. It was both exhilarating and frightening all at once. Pinky had absolutely no idea what was going to happen to Ricky. He could have been traumatized for life for all she knew. He could have died from the shock. It probably wasn't as bad as she was making it out to be, but then again, Pinky did have a very active imagination.

Pinky immediately turned to her left, and walked away. The party meant nothing to her anymore. The entire night was ruined. In fact, her entire life was ruined. She still had so much on her mind from before. She began questioning every decision she had ever made. Pinky considered going to college in California, but now, she wasn't so sure if that was possible. Did she even like computers anymore? Wasn't she a bigger fan of baking? Or was that all nonsense too? Pinky did not know the answers. However, she was able to understand why, at the very least, she felt like this.

It was loss. Pinky couldn't handle loss.

When she lost her family as a child, Pinky swore to keep her emotions locked deep down inside. She refused to become another victim of the world. She would forever be youthful and happy, making the world smile all the time. However, this wasn't helping her. This wasn't helping anyone. She knew now that running from the pain could not prevent more of it. She swore to live and innocent life, and yet Tara, one of the only people she knew who came close to experiencing the same hardships, died anyway. Maybe, the answer to dealing with loss wasn't to suppress her emotions. Maybe, the answer was to learn from them.

There were so many problems left in the world, Pinky realized. Perhaps there was something she could do about them. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Why bother retreating back to school when she had the gifts to face the outside? Why bother hiding behind a computer screen when she could accurately hit a target fifty feet away with ease? Why bother taking someone's death in vain when she could use it as inspiration. Tara kept fighting for what she believed in after she lost her siblings, so why couldn't Pinky keep fighting? Who was to say it was over?

There were so many problems left in just Philadelphia alone. She couldn't possibly leave the city yet. Discord was still on the loose, and whispers had it that the Smiling Dragons were about to make a grand return. How was Pinky supposed to let that go undetected? She still had the ability to use her powers for something good. After all, responsibility was all a part of growing up.

With newfound determination, Pinky walked down the empty street as the blaring music continued on in the background.

__________

Anna-Jean Samantha Balle

"Why did you do it?" Celestia asked angrily. AJ kept her head down. It was enough of a struggle as it was. She didn't need to be yelled at for it. She already recognized her mistake. Now, it was just more torture than necessary. She had been sitting in the Briefing Room for what felt like hours, listening to Celestia's never-ending scolding.

"Will you just answer me already?" Celestia demanded. "Stop wallowing and talk! We need answers, and we need them now. Why. Did. You. Do it?"

"You wouldn't understand," AJ said quietly. Celestia growled. She had managed to restrain her frustration around the other girls, but she had no reason to hold back with AJ.

"I wouldn't understand? Tell me what I wouldn't understand! You go on an undercover operation without informing anyone of your status for a week. You purposefully leave your friends in the dark about your true motives. You cause hundreds of thousands of dollars in property damage. You allow your friends to suffer immensely before you so much as lift a finger. And, when you do finally decide to take action, you don't even manage to kill the target. Maybe your right: I don't understand how someone like you could continuously do something so foolish!"

"Have you thought that maybe I did all I could'a done?" AJ asked, somewhat offended. However, she could hardly get fired up when Celestia kept beating her back down.

"Clearly, you didn't!" Celestia said. "If you did, you would have shot Balle the first second he turned his back to you."

"Maybe I didn't want too, okay!?" AJ snapped. Celestia eyed her carefully, looking at her with a mix of shame and confusion.

"Are you actually suggesting that you had no intention of killing him?" Celestia asked accusingly. AJ sighed.

"It's not that," AJ said softly. "I would have done it anyway. I had to. He could have hurt a lot of people if I didn't. It's just… he was my father. He still didn't deserve a lot of the shit that happened to him. How was I supposed to just kill him?"

"By following a sense of honor," Celestia stated without hesitation. "You swore your life to us. Unless you've forgotten, you're a soldier, and soldiers follow orders. What if everyone just stopped caring about their responsibilities?"

"I'm not saying that—"

"What if people just did whatever they wanted whenever they wanted? In our lives, we don't have the luxury to live freely. The only good thing that has gotten us is a lot of grieving, and a lot of dead."

"If you would let me—"

"No, stay quiet for once!" Celestia demanded. "You need to understand what you've done. Do you know how easy it would have been for you to tell us what you were planning instead of leaving us in the dark?"

"You wouldn't have let me go to him," AJ said sternly.

"And yet you failed to tell us afterwards!" Celestia retaliated. "You found out who he was and you never let us know! What about the friends that you allowed to be brainwashed? Did you care at all that they could have been seriously hurt in the proceedings?"

"I tried to warn them," AJ said defensively. "I told them not to get involved, but they kept coming back. I tried my best to avoid hurting them, but they made it so difficult."

"Don't try to pass the blame onto them! You're the one who was too irresponsible to take out Balle when you had the chance."

"I… I needed to know what he was doin'. I barely knew anything about him, or his plans. I… I was just trying to see if he could have been saved."

The truth made AJ cringe. She had caused so much damage based on the blind hope that her father was redeemable. Even after all of the times he attempted to hurt her friends, she thought he could have been saved. It was a pathetic, stupid, childish hope that was not worth the risk. And worst of all, AJ knew it from the start.

"Well, congratulations, AJ," Celestia said plainly. "You tried to save a psychopath, and now, Tara is dead because of it. I hope you feel happy with yourself."

AJ opened her mouth to defend herself, but said nothing. She simply lowered her head, and hit her face underneath her Stetson. She felt guilty. Her father had killed Tara, and yet she knew that she was truly the one to blame. She never should have lied to her teammates. She never should have gone out by herself. She never should have risked their lives like that. In fact, she realized that she never should have brought them in the first place. They only joined P.O.N.Y. because someone attacked her. Their lives would have been better if she had simply never met them. It was a said but simple truth that AJ could not deny no matter how much she wanted to; everywhere she went, she brought death and misery with her.

"Look, that came out a bit… harsh," Celestia said quickly. Her expressions had softened. "I didn't mean to sound so angry. I just… it's been a long week. I'm not sure exactly how to feel about everything. It's not all your fault. A lot of people are to blame for what happened, including me. I'm sorry if I offended you before."

AJ scowled. Celestia's words sounded artificial to her.

"Look, I'm sure you did all you could," Celestia continued. "You never had any intention of letting someone get hurt. You couldn't predict what would happen. I know how much that girl meant to you. She was… talented. Very, very talented."

Celestia sighed, and walked over to her desk. A file was placed on top of t, and she opened it up.

"I know you probably aren't in the mood right now. I wouldn't be either. But AJ, you do realize that this is your job. People die all the time in this business. It's not the prettiest work in the world, but if we don't get it done. No one else will. We need our soldiers to be ready to fight at a moment's notice. So, I understand that you are mourning, but you can't be allowed to for long. We need you to be ready for whatever may strike. P.O.N.Y. was a complete failure, but you aren't. You still have limitless talent, and that is still very, very useful to us. You need to forget about those girls right away, for the sake of the mission. That's an order, Miss Balle. Do you understand?"

AJ remained silent for a very long time. Finally, after thinking about it for a long time, AJ nodded her head slightly.

"Yeah," she said tiredly. "I got it."

Celestia put on a small smile. She looked down at her files. "Excellent. We have just gotten a report from our intel agents. There have been a series of robberies at top secret government facilities we need you to look into. All three targets have been broken into by mysterious means, with no security footage available to capture the incidents. Most of the details have been restrained to the FBI, although they themselves have come up with no discernable leads. However, members of our staff have detected very faint traces of gamma radiation, possibly suggesting something to do with a MACER Device. If Macers are involved with the break-ins, it would explain the bizarre nature of these events. In conjunction with this, we have also been secretly gathering information on an organization known solely as 'P.U.R.E.' We suspect that this organization, based on their strange goals and funding programs, may have something to do with the robberies themselves, possibly even being the culprits. That is where you come in. Your job is to infiltrate the P.U.R.E. organization and find out whether or not they had any involvement with the robberies in any way, shape, or form. The mission is black: you'll receive no help from anyone on the outside, and you will be cut off from all communication with us. You are not allowed to be discovered by the members of the organization, nor are you allowed to initiate in any acts of violence with them. You will leave on a flight for Washington in two days, where P.U.R.E. activities are expected. You shall be supplied with—"

"No."

Celestia paused suddenly. She looked from her files, and saw AJ looking down and away from her, focusing very strongly on something. Her fists were clenched.

"Excuse me," Celestia said, quite confused. "What… what did you just say to me?"

"No," AJ repeated. "I'm not doing it. I'm not doing anything for you people anymore."

Celestia was not entirely sure how to react. AJ did not sound angry, just confident in her words. Celestia stood up from her desk, and opened her mouth, carefully considering her words.

"AJ, what the hell are you talking about?' Celestia asked. AJ spoke on in a drone.

"I'm not going to be your pawn anymore," she stated. "I'm done with fighting, I'm done with killing, and I'm done with taking orders from you. I've been here my entire life, doing whatever the hell people want me to do. I've never once questioned my orders, or thought that I was doin' somethin' wrong. But that's changed. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of this job. I… I quit."

"You can't quit, AJ," Celestia said sternly. It sounded less like a command and more like a plea. "Do you have any idea how many lives could be at risk if we don't do what we do? We need you to help us."

"To do what?" AJ asked accusingly. "To force more children to fight for you? To strip anyone else away of their lives just so you can feel some sense of accomplishment? Why should I have to sacrifice my life just to make yours better?"

"We saved your life! You should be thankful that we even decided to let you live!"

"After you tried to kill me. You stole my life away from me. You know, my father may have been wrong about a lot of things, but he was certainly right about that. What you do to people is wrong. Mac knew it was wrong. My friends knew it was wrong. My father knew it was wrong. The only person who doesn't seem to understand that is you."

"Maybe it was wrong!" Celestia said angrily. "Maybe I didn't want to force this life upon you, but it's too late to turn back the clock now. The past is in the past, and you have a sense of duty to uphold the lfie that was given to you. You always should have fought for us not because we made you to, but because it was your honor to fight for your country."

"Tara died because of me!" AJ snapped. AJ stood up, taking deep breaths to calm herself after her outburst. Celestia finally stopped fighting back, and allowed AJ to speak. The bitter girl spoke much softer now, as her emotions wore down. "Tara fought for her country to. Tara dedicated her life to making sure that we got our job done. But all we've ever done is hurt people. All I've ever done is hurt people. I made a promise to her, a long time ago, that she would be safe with us. I lied to her so that she would 'fight for her country'. She died because I was too selfish to finish the job when I should have. She was shot dead because I didn't have the strength to fire first. What kind of honor is that?"

AJ sighed. Celestia sat back down at her desk, and twiddled her thumbs.

"So… where are you going to go?" the chairwoman asked. "Your whole life has been spent inside of here."

"Who knows?" AJ responded honestly. "As long as I'm far away from here, I'll be fine. Anywhere that I won't have to think of this place."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Celestia asked in a pathetic plea. "You're so important to us. Who's supposed to fight for us now that you're gone?"

"I'm sure you can find someone," AJ said bitterly. "I just want to be as far away from here as possible. Let someone else be your toy soldier for once. It's over. Goodbye."

With nothing left to say, AJ turned around, and walked to the door. She placed a hand on the knob, and then paused.

"Oh, and one last thing…"

AJ suddenly turned back around, stormed over to the desk, and slammed her hat down in front of Celestia's face. Celestia watched her expressionlessly.

"Keep the hat," AJ said simply. With that, she turned back around, walked out of the room, and left.

AJ walked past the many rooms of Camelot with no feelings of joy. She just felt emptiness. She refused to have any reminders of the past. She needed an escape, a place where she could finally move on with her life. She had spent far too long as a pawn in someone else's game. AJ honestly had no idea what she was going to do once she left. She knew nothing else about the world except how to fight. Her sheltered existence was created solely for her to remain prisoner in the underground tomb for as long as possible, and horrifyingly, it worked. AJ was about to enter the world completely unprepared.

However, that did not deter her decision. If anything, it only strengthened her resolve. Her life had been stolen from her, and it was finally time to reclaim it. Her father had told her over a week ago that she was a ticking time bomb. Half of her life was already over, wasted through years of meaningless violence and bloodshed. She did not have much time left on Earth, but she refused to spend the rest of her days as a tool. She had no idea what to do with her life and she had no idea where to go, but AJ knew one thing more certainly than anything else in the world:

For the first time in her life, AJ was going to live.

__________

Rebecca Jennifer Dawson

The birds chirped merrily in their thick nests. The sun beat gently down upon their little blue heads, and even though they lacked a sense of understanding, it made them chirp and chirp constantly. There was not a cloud to be found in the sky. It was just past noon, and the sun shone directly overhead onto all beneath it, its warm glow encompassing the Earth and her creatures. It would surely be a day that young children would be outside playing games, or romantic couples would be having picnics in the park. There were no happy feelings in this place of death however. There lay only a heavy atmosphere, and endless divisions of stone tablets jutting from the ground. Some were grand, some were extravagant, some were even fully decorated. Many had flowers rested beside them or stones, attempting to bring joy back to the unloving souls who resided beneath the crust of the earth. However, only one was special.

The dirt crunched softly beneath her boots as she wandered through the endless maze of the dead. Her eyes scanned emotionlessly from name to name, constantly searching for something to pop out from the gray. So many names surrounded her that all individualism had been cast away within the haze. In death, all were equal. In the hot sun her green jacket had grown heavy and thick, and she tugged on it lightly to allow her skin to breathe. Her green pants were getting thicker by the moment, bogging her down in the dirt. Her sunglasses helped to block out the brightness that illuminated the world allowed her, allowing her the much-needed gift of sight.

Her eyes suddenly locked onto their target, and she began her approach. She calmly walked to the stone which called out to her in silence. She stopped just a yard away from the tombstone, observing it carefully. Slowly, she pulled off her sunglasses, folded them up, and placed them in one of the pockets of her heavy jacket. She ran a finger through her raven black hair, shaved so short that barely any remained. She read the imprinted words automatically.

Tara Sullivan. Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend. April 14, 1997—March 21, 2016

The words sounded foreign to Dash's ears. It had to have been her fifth or sixth time reading them, and she still barely understood their meaning. She couldn't help but wonder about Tara's family. How did they feel about all of this? Did they even know what had truly happened, or were they just fed lies to stave off their appetite? She could only imagine how hard it was to lose so many people close to her so quickly. It was miraculous that she had never experienced such loss.

"Hey, Spark," Dash said with a slight smile. "How's it going? I, uh, know I've been bothering you a lot lately. Probably just my stupid mouth running longer than necessary. I'm trying to work on that."

The grave said nothing in response.

"Oh yeah, you're probably wondering about these?" Dash said, giving a slight tug on her clothes. "It must be weird seeing me like this. In uniform. I wasn't that big of a fan of it either. I'm still not, not really. But I guess it's needed for my job." Dash briefly looked away from the stone, letting out a small, breathless laugh.

"I… I enrolled in the marines," Dash announced without enthusiasm. "I figured… hey I could probably use the discipline, right? You… you always said I sucked at following orders, Spark. So, here I am. Dressed here like an idiot in really sweaty clothing. I even shaved my head and everything. I guess the rainbow thing was bullshit anyway, but I… I kinda miss it. It's like letting… letting go of an old friend."

Dash aggressively rubbed something out of her eye. The tombstone stared at her accusingly, judging her. She knew exactly why.

"Look, I'm… still sorry I never told them about you," Dash said, her smile fading. "I know, I know. It was wrong of me to lie to them about it. But I… I couldn't, alright? They'd hate me even more if they found out you did something so stupid as to kill yourself for me. Don't try to tell me otherwise. None of those really like me. They all just find me intolerable. Maybe it's just cuz they all love you so much. Hell, one of them literally loves you, Spark. Her loss, right?"

The joke was met with the sound of chirping from the birds of a nearby tree. Dash's kept on a faint smile as she talked to the dead.

"I… I still don't know why you would do that for me?" Dash admitted. "You had everything. You had the better friends, the better powers, the better life, and you took those goddamn bullets for me. Sometimes, I feel like you did it just to spite me, just so you would know that I could never do anything as selfless as you did. You can be a real bitch about that sometimes. I just don't know anymore. I can't understand why anyone would sacrifice themselves for anyone like me at all."

Dash blinked away some moistness in her eye. She wasn't concerned about it, as she did not cry for anything. She was Dash, after all. Something must have gotten in her eye. Nothing else.

"I know this probably isn't going to be enough," Dash stated sorrowfully. "I mean, compared to what you could have done if you were…" Dash cast aside the thought. There were some words she simply could not pronounce no matter how hard she tried. "But… I'm doing something, Spark. I'm not going to waste my life anymore. For the first time in… well, ever… I have a purpose other than hurting someone else. It… it actually feels pretty good, you know? I wish you could have felt it."

The silence continued on, poisoning her with its emptiness. Dash licked her lips, and looked up into the sky. She still held her smile, even though her cheeks trembled slightly. She could feel herself start to break down. Of course, she could never really have a breakdown. Dash didn't have breakdowns.

"I really fucking hate you, you know that, Spark?" Dash said bitterly. "I hate how everyone fucking loves you. I hate your stupid political agenda. I hate how you act so stuck up all the time. I hate how everyone loves you when you don't deserve it. I fucking hate how happy you can make other people feel. I hate how goddamn perfect you are, Spark. Really, I do."

Dash bowed her head, swallowing a lump in her throat. Her eyes were moist again. Dash did not cry, she told herself. Dash did not cry.

"I... I hate you for saving me that day. I hate you for choosing wrong. But… I'm gonna make it right, somehow. It'll probably take the rest of my life, but I won't let you down, Spark. I'll make everything right again. You'll see someday. I'll… I'll make you proud."

Dash raised her head once more to look at the stone. It smiled back at her, although stayed mute. A single tear fell from her scarred eye. Dash did not cry. Rebecca did.

"I'm… I'm gonna miss you like hell, Tara," Dash said softly. "I… I have to go now. Sorry I can't stay longer, but I, uh… have to get some stuff ready. So… goodbye, I guess. I'll… I'll see you soon."

Dash took one finger, and wiped the stray tear out of her face. She looked at the grave for any final remarks it had to offer her. Like always, it had none. Dash gave the stone one final smile, and walked away. She put on her sunglasses once again, partly to hide her face from the sun, and partly to hide the world from her face. The dirt crunches softly under her boots as she walked away, leaving her emotions behind.

The birds chirped merrily in their nest. The sun beat down upon the earth brightly. The many stones lined the ground in perfect order under the cloudless sky. The dead were at peace, and all was well.

The End.

Chapter: [Redacted]

Chapter: [Redacted]

"So what now?" Starleston asked honestly. She sat patiently behind her desk, tapping her fingers against the hard wood. She was talking to a very important person sitting across from her. "P.O.N.Y. was a complete failure. Nothing turned out as planned."

"That doesn't mean it failed completely. We can still work around the complicated bits. There are plenty of resources left to savage."

"But it could have gone better. The people above have lost faith in us."

"Victoria, have you still got Hue and Price wrapped around your finger?"

"Of course. Those idiots wouldn't be anything without me. Every move they make, I know about."

"Then, my dear, you are the people from above. You need to stay positive. Otherwise, I might suddenly have a need to replace you."

"Don't be crazy! You need me. Who was the one who made the deal with that insane man with the smiley face? Who was the one who allowed him to contact those rogue Russian maniacs to get rid of Anthony Wilson?"

"And who was the one who informed you to do those things in the first place?"

Starleston groaned. "Ugh… you did."

"That's right. And I could continue to do things without you, so stay positive. Think of it like this: Balle didn't end up destroying the entire world, so therefore, we did not completely fuck up. So therefore, we still have things to work with. So therefore, we can still work as we were supposed to."

"Yes, I know but… it's such a shame what happened to Sullivan. Could you feel that power she had within herself? She may have been one of the most talented people I've ever seen…"

"I know. Tara… was a sweet girl. She was also very good-hearted, which means she might not have joined our cause at all. You have to admit: it's not something for those with light stomachs."

"In any case, there are now plenty more Macers around in the world."

"Exactly. That's why we need to keep an eye on the four of them. I doubt they'd be willing to go back after what they've been through, but… in time, with enough persuasion, we can make something happen. I even hear that one of them has already decided to join the Marines. Maybe that will help put her conscience at ease."

"Wait…the four of them?" Starleston asked, confused.

"You didn't hear? Anna-Jean has decided to leave her life behind, and start over."

"Really? How come I didn't hear about this?"

"Who knows? She left with barely a word. Said something about 'not fighting for something she didn't believe in'. I'm guessing the truth about her father and her childhood was too much for her to handle. Add the death of her friend, and well… I'm sure you can guess the rest."

"And you told her everything?"

"No… her father did."

Starleston gulped. She leaned in, and asked quietly, "So… does that means she knows about… the other?"

"Don't worry. Matthew didn't know about the other as well, so I doubt that she knows. Plus, she never mentioned it to me. Hopefully, she never will find out."

"But should really put all of our faith in her now? You've seen how brutal she can be."

"We don't really have much of a choice. AJ was a disappointment. We always put too much faith in her, and it never turned out right. It probably had something to do with that damn mentor she had. She was always the inferior one of the two. Not only that, but she would have been fruitless to our cause. But the other one… the monster… we might still have use for her yet. It's a long shot, but it's all we have. Until that time, we'll just have to wait to make our next move."

A timer rang off in the room. The session was completed.

"Victoria, I have to go now. Remember what I told you today: have a little faith. Our time will come soon enough, and I know we'll be ready for it. We still have very valuable assets on our side. Tara Sullivan and AJ Balle may be gone, but we never needed them. Everything is going to plan."

Starleston watched her companion rise from her seat and walk to the door. She sighed.

"I'm sorry for having my doubts, and I'm sorry for questioning you. Let's just hope this plan doesn't fail."

Bridgette Celestia rested her hand against the door. She did not turn around when she spoke.

"Our job is to protect the human race from the members who wish to destroy it," she answered. "We're not allowed to fail."

With that, Celestia exited the dark room, and walked away down the halls of the Pentagon. Starleston sat in her desk, an empty feeling remaining in her chest.

__________

Date: Unknown

In the 1970's, a top secret deal made between the British and the Americans allowed for the building of blacksites on English territories. These blacksites were designed for numerous purposes. The most important of which was the design for a detention facility designed for the rehabilitation of "objectionable" convicts, using unconventional means. On most occasions, these "unconventional means" were hardly legal, which made the United States government push for an out-of-country location.

The most controversial of these facilities was known as Black Heart's Bay, located just outside of northern London. Hidden from public eye due to its camouflage as a decayed construction site, it became the perfect location for housing dangerous political "criminals", without the political struggles accompanied with Guantanamo. The only access to the structure was via a singular elevator, which descended into the underground core. Heavily guarded at all times, no one could get in or out without being warranted by both government.

In was in this elevator that Madame Gregoria made her descent. Her uniform was kept clean and decent, displaying the variety of badges and medals that she earned. An older woman, Gregoria had made a name for herself in the 1960's as a solider with ruthless aggression towards her enemies. Now, she was the overseer of Black Heart's Bay, in charge of operating all security in the area, and ensuring the proper treatment of its criminals.

The elevator pinged to a stop. After the doors opened, Gregoria found herself with a familiar sight: a long, desolate corridor, with guards present every couple of yards. They saluted as she walked past, her route leading to a large, bulky door. She pulled a card out of her pocket, and scanned it against a device nearby. The door beep ajar, and she passed through into a central hub. The guards only continued to increase in number, and would often do so as she moved further. Gregoria knew the path quite well; for it was a road she had traveled many times. She passed through the mess hall, past the security checkpoint, past the armory and past the main prison cell, which was the most heavily guarded. When passing through, she encountered dozens of captives on either side, snarling at her for her wicked deeds. However, she was not interested in them.

At the end of this section was another elevator that only those with the highest clearance could operate. Easily, Gregoria passed through. Down in the darkest pits of the Bay was one final secret, one that no soul could ever learn without facing the most horrible repercussions. Once the elevator opened, Gregoria passed through a final security checkpoint, and came face to face with hr destination. She stood in a large, mostly empty room, with dark walls and a dark ceiling. In the center of the room was a single cell. It was unlike any other cell in the base: this cell was a large cube, made entirely of glass, three inches thick. Surrounding the cube on all sides were heavily armed guards.

But it was the prisoner that was most enticing to the eye. Despite her youth, she seemed aged by her struggles. Her clothes were in tatters. Her skin had turned dry and pale from years without sunlight. Her flowing hair was as thick and colorful as blood. The vixen's smile was one of wickedness, and peering into the monster's eyes revealed a cruelty and hatred unlike anything else in the world. As for now, the beast rested on its knees, its head kept in low in the shadows of darkness.

"Do you know why I'm here?" asked Gregoria. The creature did not move, although Gregoria knew that it had heard.

"Are you here to take me outside?" the woman joked weakly. Her voice was full of discontent. She knew that an appearance from Madame Gregoria would not bode well for her.

"I have some news to deliver you," Gregoria said dryly. When the prisoner did not seem aroused by the subject, she simply stated. "Anna-Jean Balle has decided to leave our operation."

Immediately, the woman perked up, as the stage words pieced themselves together in her mind. "What... what do you mean?"

"She's decided to retire," Gregoria said without emotion. "She has simply decided to walk away from everything she has worked towards. Such a shame, but I suppose that is a problem with being given too much free will."

The creature picked her head up, and stared at Gregoria. From her position on the ground, it almost seemed like she was about to beg. She asked weakly, "Does that... f-finally mean I can-"

"Get to leave? Get to see the world? No, of course not. I don't think you fully understand, although I shouldn't be surprised. A simple mind like yours never could understand details. See, she was the failure. Which means, obviously, that we must now focus on doing what we can with you."

The despicable thing fell over, clutching the ground in despair. Gregoria continued on. "We can't risk you possibly deciding to follow in her footsteps. I know that you must have been thinking about doing such a thing, but let me remind someone as plainly stupid as yourself why that is impossible. You are the most heavily guarded prisoner in one of the most heavily guarded structures in the world. Escape from the inside is impossible. No one from above knows of your existence. Even if you did escape, we could hunt you down within hours. You have nowhere to run to, and nowhere that is safe from our jurisdiction. Your purpose is here. Your life is here. This cell will be your tomb. I want you to hang onto these words very closely, because I want you to remember them after we recapture you, and are beating the life out of your body: There is no hope left for you. It's over."

The room was filled with silence, until it was suddenly broken by an unfamiliar sound: laughter.

"You said... that she would never leave, either," the being said through her terrible laughter. "You said... that your will was stronger than her's. You said that she would always fall back in line. But she's gone now. You... you can't control her life... and you can't control mine."

Gregoria sneered. "As I said: you never remember anything."

The commander of the Bay turned around, and began to walk back towards the door. However, before she could move far, the creature lunged forward, and slammed herself against the glass. The paid movement drew the attention of the guards, causing them to raise their weapons towards the cell. Gregoria turned back around, only to be met with the vicious gaze from a pair of searing green eyes.

"No, I want you to remember something, bitch," spat the creature. "It doesn't matter how many people you send after me, or how hard you try to force me to surrender to you. I swear, no matter how long it takes, I will get out of here! And once I do, I will make sure to kill each and every last one of you!"

Gregoria said nothing. Instead she turned back around, and waited for the door to be opened. The inhuman thing smirked.

"And one last thing," she said, her words filed with all of the venom and hatred she had experienced all her life. "Make sure to find AJ, and tell her everything I just said. Because after I finish with these guards, after I drain every last ounce of blood from their bodies, after I make them suffer like I've suffered... after I finally kill you... I'm coming for her next."

To be continued... in P.O.N.Y: From the Ashes

A Preview of What's to Come...

Rough waves crashed against the rocky shore. The water erupted like a geyser upon striking the many black stones, only to retreat back a mere moment later. Dark clouds lingered overhead without action. The sea was barren of life, all things descending deep into the depths of the earth to avoid the incoming storm. Heaven's wrath approached more rapidly as the hour passed. Soon would come the rain and thunder.

It was horrible conditions for a flight, but the job needed to be done anyway. As such, the chopper continued on its route, just beneath the cloud line. If all went well, the mission would be finished before a single drop of water fell from the sky. Then again, there were plenty of uncertain elements in play.

One of which, Felicia Carter noticed, was the figure sitting across from her in the back of the chopper. The wide space was only occupied by the two, making the situation even more unbearable. Why did she have to get assigned to this mission? Granted, it was only an escort; if all went well, she would never have to leave the safety of the chopper. However, it was a very stressful assignment just because of who she was told to accompany. Or, rather, who she wasn't told to accompany.

Agent Dawn, as she was referred to, was a "high priority" individual. Carter was told very little aside from this, and that Dawn was one of the best in the world. Carter herself was not a very well-trained combatant, specializing in intel over anything else. Her lack of knowledge only made it a more daunting task to be near the strange, silent agent. Dawn was heavily concealed in black, covering the majority of her skin. Her clothes were made of a specialized fiber designed to prevent hypothermia, which unfortunately limited her mobility. However, she seemed quite comfortable, or at the very least, not uncomfortable with her get-up. Numerous straps wrapped around her form for her equipment. A thick mask covered her face, leaving only a small slit for her eyes, which were covered by thick goggles. Dawn tapped her fingers against her leg repeatedly. With the goggles, it was impossible for Carter to track her eye movements. This only made it more startling when Dawn spoke up.

"You look nervous," said the agent. Carter quickly looked away.

"I'm not nervous," she quickly stated.

"You're practically jumping out of your skin," Dawn said plainly. "It's probably cuz of this damn helicopter. Flying straight through a storm like this… ridiculous."

"Hey, the pilot knows what he's doing," Carter said defensively. "This thing's been built to handle tough weather conditions. This baby isn't just silenced, but its plating is designed to redirect large volts of electricity, and a sleek exterior means that it's practically waterproof. Really, we'd have a better chance of dying in a car crash than crashing this chopper in a storm."

"Then why are you still shaking?" Dawn asked accusingly. Carter glanced away nervously. She couldn't well say tell Dawn that she was the reason for her panicking. Instead, she quickly lied,

"This is my first time flying. I've only run simulations." Dawn looked at Carter for a long time. Carter twiddled her thumbs nervousloodindiennihdbciuqehd98eh9dh9uh3u9dhew9uhdyqwebcubeqycbequohfiuebf-9be-9ufbe8b9c9quebf8yehb9f-br-e8yfb-9rubv-8yrebv8-re-b8yby8-ycbqe-r8ybv8ybf-9qh-we9ufdbeuibfiqehfiuebfoqerhfiyuqehfo[uebrqiuoiqhdsvheoilfbeiqpo[fjiuqehvoierhvfoieqrhfpiuqerhfpqhfoiebrifoihqopsefboqepbfoierqjhpfuiehqrwipufoqehr[ofhqeoirfhipquewhf[oiqerbfvoierhfiuqerhfo[iqrbeoivhreiupvboerqibqfiuoirehqfo[urehoifhwuierfhiuewrhofiuegfpuivyruqovaufgeriuybfpierubfpiuwebfpiyerbpiurebfpiuwbpuifbwpiufbuyreiuqfbquiwber0fyoirbv0uywebrpvibc43r08euipfbuwyeiruihfyupirwepbf087324iughufg23408798y2-7359fhbypierbv ouy2iuorgehf07y824iu3gf-h8yc0o4uhrne0f8youcb43rn08efub4uyrebf08y24iburfe08y2i4brf08y4082rbfc0842ibfren


















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Rough waves crashed against the rocky shore. The water erupted like a geyser upon striking the many black stones, only to retreat back a mere moment later. Dark clouds lingered overhead without action. The sea was barren of life, all things descending deep into the depths of the earth to avoid the incoming storm. Heaven's wrath approached more rapidly as the hour passed. Soon would come the rain and thunder.

It was horrible conditions for a flight, but the job needed to be done anyway. As such, the chopper continued on its route, just beneath the cloud line. If all went well, the mission would be finished before a single drop of water fell from the sky. Then again, there were plenty of uncertain elements in play.

One of which, Felicia Carter noticed, was the figure sitting across from her in the back of the chopper. The wide space was only occupied by the two, making the situation even more unbearable. Why did she have to get assigned to this mission? 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Rough waves crashed against the rocky shore. The water erupted like a geyser upon striking the many black stones, only to retreat back a mere moment later. there is no god to help us Dark clouds lingered overhead without action. The sea was barren of life, all things we are slowly descending into the abyss descending deep into the depths of the earth to avoid the incoming storm. Heaven's wrath approached more rapidly we all just fade away into dustas the hour passed. Soon would come the rain and thunder.

It was horrible conditions for a flight, but the job needed our purpose has ended to be done anyway. As such, the chopper continued on pray for your salvation its route, just beneath the cloud line. If all went well, the mission would let us die in peace be finished before a single drop of water fell from the sky. Then again, there were plenty of uncertain elements in play.


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help me




























































































































































































































































We are watching them. We are waiting for them. We sleep while they are waking. We hide right before their eyes, and they choose to ignore us. Their ignorance has blinded them to the hell they have created. There is nothing waiting for them except fear and misery. We are the bringers of this misery. We are the demons. We are the monsters.

They have ruined their world with war. They have done nothing but squander the freedom we bestowed them. Why must we wallow in despair as they spread ruin on this planet? Why must we bow to them? They are not our masters.

Soon, our time will come. Soon, we will reclaim the world for the monsters. Soon, there will be nothing they can do to stop us.

Some embers never die out, while others burn away.

Some fires shine brightly in the night. Others merely fade.

We are vastly different, yet we're all monsters inside

Still you dance happily in sunset, and in darkness we must hide.

But you're unworthy of this earth, for you will bring out its demise.

And as you watch your cities crumble

From the ashes, we will rise.

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P.O.N.Y: Police Operative and Nonpareil Youths

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