Fierce!

  Flash!

  Fast!

  Fire!

  My teacher was a bloody liar!

  Bring it!

  Do it!

  Brought it!

  This stage is defeated, she has got it!

  Light, and stage

  skin and sex

  Will these moves teach a hex?

  Her hips have ground and her butt has swayed;

  together with her talent, all of them she’s played.

  Her legs are smooth, her belly flat.

  There is no thought when she dances,

  when she grins, giggles and prances!

  Pigeon toes and chicken wings?

  Like it matters!

  She'll just sing!

  If she lands on her ass, or trips and stumbles,

  still her gaze will make them crumble.

  For she is diva! Fresh and fierce!

  Sing or dance, their soul those skills shall pierce.

  Boys are lame, so to dance, oh to dance, never will that girl be tamed!

  She slides and slithers.

  She bumps and quivers.

  Smiles, glitter, polish and gold.

  They look at her, and wish to hold.

  Away dumb boys, come closer you cameras!

  Record now and forever, her skin so pure.

  Center stage, she's here to be seen and touched and praised,

  for that is the pedestal that her teachers have raised!

  They teach her to entice; to be sexy, and to be nice.

  She is the one, special, unique; they promise.

  Then it's wrong, take it, it's gone!

  Why judge her, disgrace her and slander?!

  You once cried role model, you now cry slut!

  Lady, it's not her fault you have such a big butt!

  Touch her, tease her, please her.

  Hate her, rape her, harm her.

  In the end, it is you that needs more armor.

  She brought it,

  sold it and owned it.

  They cant truly cover, just covet.

  So she'll shake it and they'll love it.

  Her husband, her partner, is the stage.

  Until the day,

  her hips hold sway,

  and her eyes say farewell, for the finale is that day.

  After your words and hypocrisy have driven her away...

  When again will her talent come to play? Or has it forever... gone away?

  ~Fierce Has Many Faces

  ~Feldyn Goldchord, the Endless Bard

  * * *

  'This… isn’t my room.' It was dark, and wet. She was confused. Too confused to panic or be afraid. Thunder rumbled, triggering a memory of… fire. Of dying. A surge of adrenaline hit her, and she tried to sit up with a start; painfully smashing her face into something. Reba quickly realized she was buried beneath rubble of some type.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Think. Long exhale. Remember. Halfway into the second deep breath she remembered Stryker’s pained expression. Another exhale, and she remembered everything. Well, sorta everything. She was pretty sure she got hit by an explosion. Those vampires were casting spells, right? The memories that followed were confusing and foggy.

  Not that it mattered. She knew what had happened. She had been mortally injured. Again. The last, and only time she had been ‘killed’ John had saved her. His method wasn’t exactly complicated, nor very scientific. Maybe one of the others had done something similar?

  Carefully, Reba moved fingers and toes. Then arms, legs, and head. No pain. Aside from a slightly sore forehead where she smashed it into the debris above her. Hell, she wasn’t even stiff. Actually felt pretty good. Like waking from a great night’s sleep. Just like last time… Only this time she wasn't waking in a warm bed, snuggled in thick blankets, John sitting next to her, thanking God she was awake.

  Carefully rolling onto her stomach, Reba tried to sit up on hands on knees. The ceiling of debris was too close for her to raise all the way to a crawling position. With her back touching it, she pushed up steadily and careful, finding it not too heavy to lift. Her eyes were also adjusted now. It appeared she was buried inside a rather flimsy building. The floor made of concrete. Even if she recklessly began to move the ruble piled around her, Reba highly doubt there was enough to worry about it shifting and crushing her.

  It only took a couple of minutes to find a spot to push through, and climb out; into the rain.

  Reba had no idea where she was.

  It was dark, but her homunculus eyes could see well. There were great mounds of earth, some appearing solid stone, jutting into the air. In every direction there were where she could only describe as mountains, or giant stone formations, some sheer as a wall.

  The destroyed building she stood in, and ground beyond, was littered with spiders, ants, maggots, and beetles. And flies. Lots and lots of flies. She saw traces of destroyed trees, and dead plants too. It looked like she was deep in some canyon of the dead. Almost like… she was in Hell.

  “It’s not possible...” she muttered to herself, slowly making her way out of the rubble, towards the remains of a road. A shiver ran up her spine as reality sank in. A reality she felt had been very far away. Like the last few days she had been in a dream. The ‘what the fuck was I thinking?!’ faded to the background of the foreground’s horror.

  Had her dad and Feldyn been right? Could a gate to Hell have been opened nearby? If so... why was the town not leveled from an angelic assault? Or maybe that is exactly what happened. No. This wasn’t the result of angels. Not that she had any way to be sure, but the land felt more corrupted than destroyed. Nor was it in any way level.

  Running with the belief that a gate to Hell had opened somewhere near; why were there no demons? She heard no fighting, no screaming. She neither saw nor felt any type of evil presence.

  Once she cleared the rubble, Reba finally figured out where she was. She had been buried in the remains of the city shop, just yards from where she ‘died’. And these mountains actually were huge chunks of earth, some type of phenomenon she had never seen before. If a manastorm caused this- shit, whatever caused this, Reba didn’t know how she, or any of them, survived. And if anyone else did survive, where were they? Why had they left her? Did they believe her dead?

  Staying on guard, moving farther out onto the road, Reba noticed her leathers were hanging off her like an oversized onesie. Grumbling, she stopped to better assess her body.

  For reasons still unknown to her, when she suffered a physical trauma, her body aged backwards. As in literally growing younger. It usually wasn’t anything easily discernible. When that naga had fatally wounded her that time, and John had given her his ghetto elixir panic mixture, Reba had de-aged to -her rough estimate- thirteen or fourteen years of age, in appearance. The other pesky side effect was the hair growth. Her hair had grown almost a foot after the naga incident. Unfortunately, her body also rapidly grew hair elsewhere as well. If you wanted to call it that...

  Reba’s most educated guess why she de-aged didn't make a lot of sense, but it was all she had. Her body seemed to ‘scrap’ the bad cells as it rebuilt. And instead of being able to restrengthen and regrow to her -assumed- optimal physical state, it instead rebuilt her younger. Kinda like a system restore point on a computer. Only… not.

  The hair thing? The hair on her head, she didn’t know what caused its growth, since it was plain old human hair. Same for her eyebrows, though they defiantly stayed the same length. Body and pubic hair? For one, it wasn’t hair- it was fur. The properties were very similar to cat fur, and only grew on her legs, arms, and pubic area. Sans trauma, it grew very slowly. She barely needed to pass a razor over herself every few months, if even that frequent. After being injured, however, it grew fast and thick.

  On a whim, she had analyzed her fur after the naga, and was surprised to find it packed full of toxins, viruses, cancer cells; basically anything that caused death or aging. Apparently that was how her body aged so slowly, and kept her healthy. After coming close to death, the toxins and such were so concentrated, Reba feared it would be lethal, possibly to the touch. Even though it was only trace amounts normally, the discovery had grossed her out so bad, that she began to stay obsessively clean shaven after.

  Checking her body now, she was not at all expecting what she discovered. She had no boobs. At all. 'Holy crap, I’m a child!' Her leathers were still on, though they were so slack, there was over a foot of extra length in the legs alone. Her sleeves hung far over her hands, and had only been rolled back by accident as she extricated from the rubble.

  Her outfit was made with memory leathers, not so unlike Jeff’s quicksilver. They responded to her DNA, and shrunk or expanded as needed, to stay perfectly skin tight. Still, they could only shrink or expand so much. And her hair? Her hair was past her butt in length! And felt thicker! Hard to tell since it was pretty soaked. How close to death was I?!

  Reba frowned deeply when she wondered how furry she may be. And frowned deeper when she ran her hands across her body. She was smooth. That made no sense. Her fur was a key component to her regeneration, and near immortality, wasn’t it?

  Then she found it.

  The slack of her suit felt like a family of cats had been living in it. Not only had she grown an insane amount of fur, but also shed it. Reba had to take off her leathers and clean them out! It would probably be better if she just stripped nude until she found something that fit. But the idea of being naked, in a child's body, was just too much to bear. What if the others saw her before she could cover up? Or worse, she got stuck in a battle with them watching! Doing a nude battle scene in her adult body would be mortifying enough! As a little girl? Ugh, kill me now.

  Sighing at herself, Reba began carefully exploring her immediate area. Hoping to find some type of discarded gear. Weapons. A backpack. Hell, any type of clothing would be great! She noticed a glint near a chunk of concrete. Hurrying to it, she found her retracted staff. Right next to it, higher up, far from any puddles, was her bag. Not daring to hope, she looked inside, and froze. It was full! The contents… This was impossible! The bottles and vials were hers, the labels were ones she had made herself, and had all been destroyed when their home in the mountain was blown up! In fact, Reba hadn’t even had this much of some of this! Not even close. There were three vials of her super all healing stuff. THREE! That was the hardest healing substance for her to make! How?!

  Dumbfounded, mind feeling scrambled, it randomly occurred to her she may not have been the only one buried in the rubble. Shaking her confusion, and shouldering her bag -which felt HUGE- Reba turned to make her way back into the collapsed city shop, and detected movement out the corner of her eye, down what was left of the road behind her.

  She froze, mind cursing rather creatively as she expected the worst Hell had to offer. Eyes unblinking, body still, she waited to see it again. It had been a ways down, and only- ‘it’ rounded a mound of earth and came into view. Reba relaxed with a groaned sigh of relief.

  “Rebaaaaaa!”

  The voice of the young blonde brought her both joy and irritation. Out of everyone to be stuck alone with in this situation, it had to be six-year-old Gigi Handlund. Her cry for Reba sounded more whiny than panic stricken. Hopefully that was a good sign. When Gigi got close, and Reba could see her better, she felt a bit guilty at her brief irritation. This child had gone through things most adults couldn't even imagine. She was truly happy to see Geeg was alive, it was just that her thoughts always fell to her training first, emotions second. And because of that, she often came across as heartless. Reba guessed she was at times...

  A series of very peculiar expressions washed over the kids face as she came to a mud sliding halt, before reaching her one time dance instructor. “Re...ba?” Gigi asked hesitantly. The brunette took a moment to register the kids puzzlement, lost in other distractions. Gigi wasn’t all that much shorter than her now... Awkward.

  “It’s me Gigi.” The little blonde didn’t look so sure. “I got hurt bad, right?” Reba asked, and the kid nodded. “When I get hurt really bad, like really bad, I get younger when I heal.” Reba felt being blunt would work best, even if she still baby-talked it a bit. “That’s weird,” Gigi informed her. Reba felt the urge to smack the child.

  “OH!” Geeg chirped loudly. “Stryker! He’s hurt really bad too! Worse than Miss Reba was!” Gigi looked worried, yet she didn’t at the same time. Either way, the urgency in her eyes was real, and Reba wasn’t going to risk doubting the kid. “Take me to him,” she ordered, and Gigi started to run back the way she had come. Then Reba remembered what she had been about to do.

  “Wait! Is anyone else buried in there? In the collapsed building?” Gigi turned giving her a withering look. “If ‘dere was, wouldn’t Gigi have told you?” She shook her head like she was the one dealing with a child. Yup, definitely wanted to smack her.

  Gigi turned and ran through the soaking gloom; Reba having a hard time keeping up. Gigi was not only fast, but nimble. Reba was wearing a body suit that was several sizes too large, needing to hike and bundle it in her grasp, while carrying an overfull bag that was too big for her. The important thing right now was that Gigi and Stryker, at least, were still alive. If those two made it, surely the others had. And despite where her thoughts should be at the moment, Reba couldn’t help again comparing her own size to Gigi’s.

  Where Reba had obviously shrunk to being much closer to the blonde in height, she was still taller than the child. Best guess, she was somewhere between Gigi and Pazely. Reba was sure the Japanese girl would find that amusing to no end.

  Slipping in the mud and falling, Reba tumbled rather gracefully given the circumstances. She ended up on hands and knees, but didn't get any mud on her face. Thank God for small favors. “We don’t have time to fall over!” Gigi lectured the grumbling brunette. Reba had a dozen smartass responses, but kept them to herself. “Are the others alive?” she asked instead, getting to her feet. “Yea,” was Gigi's casual reply. Then she frowned sharply. “Well, maybe…” Abruptly, the kid stomped her foot. “No!” she exclaimed, in a bratty defiant tone. “Ugh, It’s Reba! But you told Gigi! Why? Bite my butt! It is too!”

  “Gigi... Who are you talking to?”

  “Namey.”

  “Who’s Namey?”

  “We don’t have the time for this!” Geeg complained, stomping a foot once again, obviously quite exasperated. “We need to get to Stryker!” Whoops! Reba had temporarily forgotten the officer. Though she was doubting he was in that bad of shape. Gigi was flustered, worried. And a bit insane... Yet there still wasn't much for fear in her eyes or voice. Concern, yes, but not fear. Meaning she was probably being dramatic about Stryker’s condition. “Okay, okay! Then let’s hurry to Stryker!” Reba agreed, and again the child rocketed away. Gigi soon made a sharp right on the busted asphalt, and ran through a narrow gap between two mounds of dirt and concrete. They were at the Castle Rock drug store. A very… convenient place for an injured person.

  Following the child inside, shelves were knocked over, and stuff strewn everywhere, like there had been a massive earthquake. She didn’t get to take in much more before tripping over a corpse, Gigi shouting at her to be careful. Trying not to step on the random body, Reba had to catch herself on the small counter, where the front cash register was. Turning to see if she recognized the dead person- her mind went blank.

  “I’m fine Gigi,” Stryker consoled the blonde, who was flipping out that Reba had kicked him, and kept asking if he was okay. “Is that really you?” the officer asked Reba without craning his neck, since she was standing behind him. 'That corpse is... that... that's not a corpse... That's Stryker'! “How are you alive?!”

  “Your bedside manner is good as always,” he joked weakly. Reba was still having trouble reconciling what she was seeing.

  Stryker had a long shard of glass embedded into his skull, through the right eye. His entire leg on the right side was gone, as was most of his hip. The left leg was missing from the knee down. The officer’s arms were intact, but the right hand was mangled, and he didn’t even have a left. Large puncture wounds riddled his body, among what looked like severe chemical burns. The scrapes, scratches and cuts all seemed trivial in comparison. “What are you?” she asked him in an accusatory tone.

  “At the moment, what I am is in a lot of pain,” he answered, and Gigi whimpered loudly. “Gigi knew you were lying!” Indeed he had lied to her. Stryker needed to be strong for the kid, not wanting her to think he was suffering, as she watched him die. To believe he went peacefully. But the longer he kept living, the more this shit fucking hurt! And with Reba here now, maybe he would survive this after all.

  “Oh God, Stryker,” Reba exclaimed, like she had just noticed him, hurrying to kneel beside the dismembered man, opposite Gigi. “How did this happen?!” she was going through her bag, finally beginning to focus. “That damn dog,” the officer replied.

  “The lycanthropeire?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “How did you get away?

  “Didn’t. Killed the bitch.”

  “You killed the lycanthropeire?”

  “Yup!” Gigi answered before Stryker could. “Gigi helped too!”

  “More like you saved me, Gigi. Again.” Shame evident through the pain in the officers voice. “Yeah,” she admitted with a casual sigh, and shrugged, “Whatcha gonna do?” Stryker couldn’t hold in a chuckle, and regretted it immediately. “Try not to move,” Reba lectured flatly, setting down the second of two syringes she’d filled, and beginning her physical exam of the man that shouldn't be alive.

  “Is it because I only have one eye, or do you look like a middle-schooler?” Stryker asked, fully aware now of his inability to see out of his right eye, though he wasn’t sure the reason. “I just got some really good beauty sleep,” she answered absentmindedly and dismissive. And realized it. She had three fingers in the wound that was once his right hip, listening to his cells; her mind was focused not so much on conversing. She couldn’t dodge the truth forever, even by accident. With everything she had already told this group, experienced with them, there was little point in dodging topics, absentmindedly or not. “I was fatally wounded, right?” she asked. Without giving Stryker or the child a chance to reply, she continued. “When my body heals from injuries it grows younger. The more severe the injury, the younger I get.”

  Her words were on autopilot before she had finished speaking. What she was finding was causing more questions than even hints of answers. Reba moved to a puncture in his lower abdomen. Many, if not most of his cells near trauma sites, were in a state of pure anaerobic-metabolism, yet were fully saturated with oxygen, showing no damage at all and functioning optimally. What is going on with your body, Stryker. Remembering the pain the man was in, (and she was cramming fingers into wounds without him complaining… Her bad) Reba grabbed a syringe, and injected him in the side of the neck without warning, or much -zero, actually- forethought. “That should kill any pain you’re feeling.” Not to mention common sense. Didn’t help she had actually given him way more than she probably should have... Whoops. Oh well. Doesn't seem like he dies easy, so should be fine.

  “Reba...” Stryker said, eyes closed as she continued her examination. “Mmm hmm?”

  “I’m really glad you’re okay.” He had an odd tone to his voice, and she assumed it was the medication. Opioids ain't got shit on what she could concoct. When he didn’t say more, she glanced up at his face. Tears were running down his cheeks, eyes still closed. “He saved you,” Gigi told her, taking the young alchemists oblivious gaze. “That’s what Moses said, anyway.”

  Gigi’s words may as well have been a dead fish slapping her across the face. Moses?! She coudn’t mean- “Dad’s here?!” Gigi stared at her blankly. “John,” Reba clarified. “Oh yeah! forgots he was your dad.” Did she though? “Yup, him and Bryan came.”

  “Dad and Bryan?”

  “Yes!” Gigi sounded irritated “I just saids they did!” As much as Reba wanted to keep quizzing the child, the forced babytalk was obnoxious, and she needed to focus on Stryker.

  When it came to doctoring, Reba had a focus like nothing else. She could still multitask, and focus on other things, though all emotions were cut off; there were no feelings, just knowledge. Facts. Usually, anyway. Not like she had ever had people in her life to test these self realized self discoveries.

  … Did that make sense? Oh well, moving on!

  The holes in Stryker’s body hadn’t closed, but had healed on the interior. Much like how the hole in your ear heals after piercing it; and the points of his amputations were scabbing over. This was ridiculous. Homeostasis be damned, it was like each of his cells were acting independent of each other in mind boggling ways. That made NO SENSE! Reba couldn’t hear what, if anything, was instructing or manipulating them, but something had to be! And her own paranoia said it was the mitochondria. Because who doesn’t find mitochondria a bit suspect? Anybody who hasn’t played classic JRPG’s, that’s who! If Stryker burst into flames she was going to be annoyed.

  Reaching for her bag, it finally occurred to her that the medicines in the bag may not be what they should, since she hadn’t an actual clue where they had came from. No point point doubting now, right? Taking her aptly named ‘blood restore’ potion, she dabbed a little on her finger to give it a quick safety verification, and made the officer drink it. “You really do look like a kid,” Stryker told her, after a couple of coughs. And then (she was so slow to realize anything lately) another thing dawned on her: she was still in her suit. The fur! SHIT!

  “Shit!” Reba jumped to her feet, looking around, making sure none had fallen out of her leathers. “What’s wrong?” Gigi asked. “Stay there!” Reba snapped to the confused child. Stryker was now humming a song to himself. She needed to change. It was Halloween time, the store had to have some cheap kids costumes or something. “I need to change,” she told Gigi, and carefully turned to head farther into the store. “WAIT! Whats about Stryker?!”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “He’ll be okay.”

  “But-”

  “He’s stable, Gigi. I don’t understand it, but he’s stable. Unless something comes in here and eats him, he should be fine. I can’t do anything else until we get him back to Jeff’s,” Reba added as an afterthought. They were retuning to Jeff's after this, weren't they? Gigi didn’t look convinced, but she nodded her understanding.

  Hurrying through the dimly lit store, Reba had such a flurry of emotions going on inside of her, it was a miracle she was able to prioritize properly. And yes, clothing was a proper priority; she was wearing something that was filled with a toxic substance, changing was not just vanity. It didn’t take her long to locate the Halloween costumes, and even less time to bemoan her choices of new attire. The few ridiculous adult outfits wouldn’t fit her. The child ones were mostly cheap plastic. There was also no type of undergarments in this store, just a lot of pantyhose. Needing to improvise, Reba decided to go full Halloween slut style.

  Carefully changing, and bagging up her leathers in triple black garbage bags, she returned to Gigi and Stryker in her quickly created outfit. “You look like a slut,” Gigi informed her, and Reba laughed. She was wearing a skirt (plaid, maroon and tan school girl) she had to adjust to fit her, keeping it loose, but long (no panties! Hurray for awkward!), and a white men's shirt from a pirate costume; cut, safety pined, quickly sowed and tied, to both fit better and show some belly.

  She had also bound her hair at several points in a long ponytail, knowing she needed to find something to put it up proper before she fought. It was way too long.

  “Seriously? With the way Ally dresses, you’re judging me?” She was still grinning as Gigi rolled her eyes. “Ally is Ally. She’s always dresses like that. But Miss Reba dresses like a dancer.” Geeg shrugged.

  “Does it really look that bad?” she frowned, looking at herself. It was only two pieces, but it took so much effort. She thought it had turned out pretty cute… In an admittedly inappropriate sort of way. Not like there was a mirror in here to see herself better. There probably were hand mirrors in the cosmetic section, but it wasn't her face she was worried about. “Not baaaaaaad,” Gigi accentuated, “just prostitute-ish.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Reba said, and walked over by Stryker, being careful not to get too close. She didn’t need to be giving him an up skirt.

  Stryker sang a couple loud lines to a country song, then mumbled back to presumed unconsciousness. She guessed he was too out of it to probably have any clue even if she did accidentally flash him. And with her current cursed body, it would probably just traumatize the poor man.

  Looking at the child in the room, “Okay Gigi, I think it’s time you explained what’s going on.” That elicited a frown and grumble. “Gigi was afraid you were gonna say that. I’m not good at explaining.”

  “Well, time to practice,” Reba told her, trying to find a way to sit that didn’t make her feel like an exhibitionist. Perhaps she made the skirt a bit too short after all... Knee-length felt so ridiculously prudish, no way she could have kept it that long in good conscience. “What should I explain?” Gigi asked. “Everything,” the miniature alchemist replied, getting a groan. “Everything,” Reba reiterated. “From what happened on the bridge, all the way to you coming to get me.”

  The waterlogged cow onion actually did a good job of summarizing events. Reba did her best not to interrupt and give the benefit of oh so many doubts. She hadn’t known the child to be a liar. Weird, quirky, odd, a bit bratty, obnoxious, spoiled, and temper tantrum-ish at times. But a liar? Not as far as she knew. Still, the events Gigi explained would have been tall enough on their own. Tossing in the fact she was telling things with the assistance of an 'angel' didn't make it any easier to believe.

  Apparently, Caleb was possessed by an angel that Gigi could also talk to. Even saying that Namey (what she called the heavenly being) would provide information to help give Reba a better picture of events than what Gigi had experienced.

  They had been ambushed on the bridge, that much Reba knew. She had been hit by a close proximity fireball. After that, summoned creatures attacked the split up party, which they defeated. Caleb was kidnapped by the lead imp, who almost killed Ally and Feldyn. John and Bryan showed up, and John did what Reba had assumed to save her. He had also done as she had taught him, to cure the poison in Ally and Feldyn.

  The group split again with the goals of saving Caleb, and keeping the Hell gate from opening, while also protecting the unconscious Reba. They only semi succeeded. The gate had been opened. So that was a pretty big fail. The lycanthropeire attacked the city shop, but Stryker led it away, and with some assistance from Gigi, killed it. The others failed to rescue Caleb, though he did escaped with the help of Feldyn's familiar. Shortly after, the others challenged and defeated (or chased off, Namey wasn't entirely sure) the Terrors.

  The absolute worst news of it all was a portal to Aethra had been opened, and Darlothz Tch'tlegion, one of Antioch's Generals, had come through long enough to kick Caleb's ass, almost kill Feldyn's familiar (named Lance), and abduct Pazely and Bryan. Which brought them to the here and now.

  Although Reba’s knowledge of the children’s lives outside the dance studio had been slim at best until just the other day, the details Gigi gave as she argued with herself (or the angel, in her head) ,were out of character for the kid. Meaning they were probably the truth. The truth tends to have less detail, and be more abrupt when told. Lies are full of description to make them sound more real, feeling like a story book. Gigi was telling the tale like a child forced to explain their assignment in front of the class by a teacher, with someone whispering help in her ear when she got confused. The kid’s words were probably not fully factual, but also not a -complete- work of fiction.

  “Knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Gigi sigh-grunted after finishing her forced recounting of events. Reba was frowning and giving the child a very stern unblinking stare of judgmental doom. “I believe you,” she placated. Gigi scoffed and looked away irritated. “I believe you! Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not lying! It’s just… a lot to take in.”

  Now Gigi glared at her. “So was the monster that killed me! So was Masque being a vampire! So was you being the sorcerer’s stone! So was the zombie guy being a penis spider!” Gigi was livid. Reba got her point. Kinda. “Philosopher’s Stone,” she corrected, and got a small rock at her. “Same thing! Just stupid American!” Reba wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t matter. “Okay, fine. I want to believe you, but like it or not you are a kid. I don’t think you're lying, but I’m also not sure how much you might be making up.”

  “Just cuz I’m a kid?”

  “Yes,” Reba answered to eyes wide and unblinking as ever. “Gigi isn’t lying. And Miss Reba is about to see.”

  The rain storm outside went insane. Purple prose moment type of storming. Gigi’s words, mixed with the uncanny timing of the weather, had chills running up and down her spine. “Namey had a dumb idea,” Gigi said hushed and somber, Reba hurried to the opened door to try to pull it shut. Nope, it was wedged open. She guessed it didn’t matter. Just common sense when the storm of fucking doom starts, to close your front door. Looking out into what she could see, the story of Noah’s Ark popped into her mind. And, once again slow on the uptake, Reba whipped around to look back into the store.

  It was nearly pitch black in here, yet she could see like it had very low lighting. Her homunculus eyes had always taken in enough light for her to see in almost lightless environments, but this was something new. She would have written it off as her body improving her eyes during the healing, but how the freaking fuck could Gigi and Stryker see?

  Before she could ask- the storm stopped. The wind quit, the lightning, the thunder, even the rain. It all quit as suddenly as it had began. “Oh my,” Gigi said. For what reason, Reba wasn’t sure. Instead of asking, feeling an ominous presence, Reba returned to looking out into the cloudy nighttime gloom. Across the street, on the roof, crouched a hooded figure. Every question she had vanished, her mind now alight with fire

  She grabbed her staff that was near Stryker, and was standing in the doorway before she even fully registered what was happening. A color! A vindicator was here! The figure rose to standing, red leathers wrapping what she could see of their legs and arms. A thin, red, hooded cloak, concealed their face, and most of their torso.

  It could be argued Reba's life had been preparing her for this moment. The amount of nightmares she had of the Order finding them was pretty equal to her fear of Ted finding her some day. Both had now come to pass.

  Until recently, things had been so peaceful. The -previous- supreme ruler of the Order died ten (twenty?) or so years ago. With his death, their pursuers had vanished. Signs of their surveillance were no more. Apparently, the obsession to catch them died along with the man they had scorned. It took minimal digging to find such speculation was not far from the truth.

  The new ruler (grandson of the former) had ended all operations involving them. Since neither Reba nor John wanted to cause problems, they were simply no longer a priority. The standing protocols involving the duo was to ignore and react. Basically, sightings and knowledge of them would still be collected and shared in the case they became a sudden threat. Other than that, all bounties, locates, wants and warrants, had been canceled. Supposedly.

  John had, of course, not believed a word of it. However, after plenty of nagging from the girl in his charge, they tested the waters. Many times. Every time it truly appeared they were no longer being sought. As the weeks turned into years, Reba finally allowed herself to feel peace. To quit always looking over her shoulder. Not that it mattered. Wherever they went was always temporary. She didn't age. People eventually notice that. Her relationships had to stay shallow; no friends, no boyfriend, not even any pets; just acquaintances and colleagues.

  Casually hopping down from the roof, the vindicator stood on the other side of the street. Reba’s heart slammed in excitement. A solitary focus was something she desperately needed. A good fight couldn't hurt either. After all, what did she have to fear? She had gone toe to toe with X'al'antra herself! “Gigi, stay inside, okay?” Reba didn’t wait for the child to reply, and didn’t expect her to listen, but she had to at least say it. Walking out from the building, she extended her staff, and stopped to stand casually on the damaged sidewalk out front. The color in red stepped forward until they stood in the center of the road. “Where is my pixie?” The question was asked in a deep male voice. Reba quickly absorbed, processed, and ignored the question.

  The clouds parted, the night was dark, but the few stars and moon brightened things drastically compared to the solid cloud cover. “Where,” the vindicator began, pulling his hood back, and removing the scarf that covered his mouth and nose, before also removing -Reba assumed- his night-vision goggles, “is my pixie?”

  Okay, Reba had to admit, she was surprised. This, she hadn’t seen coming. Even if it made sense. And the numerous conspiracy theories, worries, doubts, and logic bridges her mind now raced through, contained more sense than nonsense. Fuck. They had never been free of the Order, had they? They had never even been ignored. The Order had known where they were the entire time. “Where is my pixie?” This time he snarled. Hatred and impatience filling his voice. Not like that was anything new for the man. Pazely’s dad had always been a hateful bastard.

  “What pixie?” she chose to ask, and pretty much answer. She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. “Where is my fucking pixie?!” his words a barely contained shout, spittle flying. Reba had to assume he knew who she was; he didn’t appear shocked or confused, just angry.

  Mister Nakajima snarled and bent his knees, extended long claws from mechanisms on the back of his fists. Reba bent her knees in turn, staff held behind her in one hand, angled diagonally from her left shoulder into the ground. ... Into… the ground? Oh shit!!!

  Able to still dodge him in time despite her fumble, Reba was on the defensive, struggling to use her staff with her new -hopefully temporary- smaller size. She could hardly wield her weapon well enough to deflect or block anything, it was so damn big compared to her! At least she felt more agile than usual.

  Which made her hard enough to hit, that Ren was having even more trouble keeping his composure.

  This blasphemous creature was more nimble than Skylar. He had once mused Skylar may be as impossible to touch as the fabled Cursed Air. Not that Ren Nakajima had ever truly believed such nonsense, then nor now. No one was untouchable. Skylar found that out the hard way, having almost died a few years back. The Cursed Air, or Area Curse, as he was also known, had -supposedly- never been seriously injured. It was said he had never lost a fight, and touching him if he did not wish to be touched, was impossible. Not by bullet, blade, or fist.

  Yet now he’s dead.

  Which proved the Cursed Air was nothing more than a mortal man. Fallible as any other. Not that Ren was surprised. William had never struck him as anything special. Nor did this doll that avoided Ren's every attack.

  She was nothing more than a soulless monster. Unlike men, the objects they created had limitations. Limits Ren could see in this creatures eyes. He could see the tension. The worry. The knowledge that he, a flesh and blood human, was her greater.

  After the second barrier shattered, Nakajima sent out a drone, first locating the homunculus. Despite only having seen her as a young adult, he knew the monster the moment he saw her. The phenomenon of de-aging when exposed to extensive trauma was documented in her file.

  When the fugitives came to Castle Rock, Ren and the others -that did not already have it- were promoted to have the clearance needed to know about, and deal with them, should the need arise. Ren himself went from a fourth class B-rank vindicator, to first class A-rank vindicator, and given the color stripe of silver. Only two beneath a royal guard. With such sudden promotion, Ren needed the strength to mach the rank. Therefor he was out of town more and more, not just for business, but for training. As he had been during the night the first barrier-shield was erected.

  He was determined to keep up his training, even if the standing orders were to be aware of, but ignore the rogue duo. Ignore the killer and his doll... Ren, like a good soldier, had done as instructed. At first.

  Seeing his pixie being influenced by this creature? It was not worth the risk. To him, or anyone. What was to happen had to happen. So he sent the little bitch away to be adjusted. Which failed. Of course it failed! Nothing went his way where she was concerned! And no matter what he said, the Order refused to take her back. They didn’t care what would happen to him. To any of them. They didn’t care about prophecy.

  But Ren did. The God above may now be his enemy, but Ren still had respect for the Creator, and blasphemes offended the vindicator. If this abomination would not tell him were his pixie was, she would die here.

  It was miracle enough her existence, a Fae'il pixie, here, on Earth! And entrusted to him! His Dark Lady told him of this prophecy! Had shown him! He had seen himself in the pages of the Ulteare! When the Terrors opened the gate - the pixie was supposed to be with him!

  A rapid triple right thrust, then Ren faked a kick, expecting the homunculus to dodge, allowing him to set up for a quick lunging strike to knock her off balance. He felt his left foot touch her leg before he forced his muscles to stop the kick and pull back. His feint failed, the homunculus had not bothered to dodge his kick. From gamble or error on her part, it put the creature -for a half second- at a tremendous advantage. She spun, then swung her staff for his face. Trying to recover, Ren was forced to attempt a block, applying plenty of counter force to be safe.

  But their weapons never connected- she had retracted her staff at the last instant, throwing him off balance even more! The monster then re-extended her staff, and scored a crushing blow to his ribs.

  Keeping with the momentum, she spun her body in reverse, masterfully allowing her to whip the weapon into the vindicator with minimal swinging distance, hitting him in the arm. Another spin, and she retracted her staff, jumped- and a kicked him in the chest. The power behind it was so great, it took him off of his feet!

  Disappointed he hadn't gone dramatically sailing into a wall, Reba was still felt pretty proud of herself. She wasn't even putting any extra oomph into her blows, and she was kicking the shit out of a vindicator. It was both satisfying and disappointing. She was hoping for a real fight, so she could beat this abusive son of a bitch properly.

  When he got back to his feet, Reba was glad. Not risking his ribs were only bruised, and arm not broken, she threw her staff like a javelin for his face, charging right behind it. He dodged the staff, but was kept on his heels by her assault.

  Though try as Ren might, he could not regain (if he had ever had) the upper hand!

  She dodged his left claw and hit him in the stomach. Bobbing, and weaving to the right, she kicked kicked him in the shin, then the side of his calf, then the knee. He stumbled enough to allow her a roundhouse to his jaw. As he toppled, she grabbed his arm and flipped him into the ground on his back. His head made a wet thwack when she bounced it off the pavement with her fist. He rolled free before her second punch.

  Reba was started to wonder about the normal human thing. The bastard should definitely be immobilized, not rolling around, and continuing to fight. Impressive had now become a wee bit worrisome. It did hold the promise of being able to administer a proper ass beating.

  As soon as he righted from his tumble, Ren was already spinning on his knees. Arms out, claws to the sides. Perfectly gaining his center of balance, he pushed off with one foot, then brought it in to rest on the supporting leg, spinning like a cyclone of death! No one could get close to him like this! Such a move was near impossible for the most skilled! Such controlled powerful momentum, from so little force! While rising! It was risky- but it served it’s purpose, keeping the homunculus at bay while he regained his footing.

  Reba thought of it as more of a spinning spaz attack, and used the time to retrieve her staff.

  Ending the spin and retracting his claws into their housing, Ren grabbed two handfuls of varying shaped throwing stars from pouches on his hips- and threw them at the approaching child-monster. Reba charged, ignoring the spread of a couple dozen throwing stars, not batting an eye from the several that hit her. Ren had not expected that, and was completely off-guard when Reba leapt, and hit him square in the top of his head with a double handed downward swing.

  Still conscious, he dodged to the side, but the homunculus was faster - her staff smashing into his back and knocking the wind from him.

  Ren had completely underestimated her strength and overall prowess. He was sure his ribs were cracked, several other bones broken, had mass organ damage, and one of his eyes no longer worked. If the sight loss was from the head wound, or if his eye had been destroyed, Ren did not know. And it did not matter. The Tear would do its job.

  Stumbling forward, and pulling the small snub nosed pistol from his thigh, he rolled, and came up aiming the gun at the doll, squeezing the trig- Reba knocked it out of his hand with a kick, and cracked him across the jaw with her staff. He went down hard, and didn’t move. Making sure he was down for the count, she kicked him in the face.

  Irritated at her own crappy performance, Reba checked his carotid for a pulse. It was strong and steady. Odd. And annoying.

  Not taking her eyes from him, she walked backwards (while plucking throwing stars from her body) to where the gun had fallen. “Gigi!” she called, kneeling to pick it up, eyes still on the fallen Japanese man. “Yeah?” the little girl called back. Reba tossed the gun in the direction of Gigi’s voice without looking. “Did Stryker show you enough to be able to use that?”

  “No.”

  “Figure it out,” she told her, then as an afterthought added; “Oh, it might be booby-trapped, so be careful.”

  “It’s not."

  "You need to be sure-"

  "I said it's not!"

  Reba sighed. Gigi was odd. She meant that with love, but it was still the truth. One moment Geeg was oblivious, the next she confidently knew things she had no way of knowing. And now she talks to an angel. Which Reba realized she had decided to believe. Curious. Speaking of that angel…

  “Gigi, can you ask the angel if it can have everyone head to us? Or at least Masque. And warn them about the Order. If they don't already know.”

  “Gigi did. And they know. They are fighting colors too. But if we are in an emergency they will send Iiyni cuz she's the fastest, and Masque is missing."

  The child-looking dance teacher was puzzled enough to remove her eyes from the prone man. “What?” she asked, and Pazely's dad suddenly lurched to his feet and charged, grabbing her by the hair when she stumbled.

  He kept moving, Reba totally at his mercy as he slammed her head into the frame of a nearby car, before putting it through the back drivers-side window, with inhuman strength. Grabbing her throat with his other hand, Nakajima pulled her to his face and whispered in her ear, “where is my pixie?”

  Choking, she couldn’t have answered if she wanted to. Not that he had cared if she did or not. Ren intended to kill the blasphemous creature here and now.

  The bullet that hit him in the side of his left knee temporarily halted said intention. Cursing loudly, and using the small homunculus as a shield the best he could; he shouldn’t need to fear bullets, but Ren was unsure just how much damage the Tear would let his body take and keep functioning.

  He hoped it was a lot, because the fucking child kept shooting, apparently having had ammunition to reload his gun. She hit him in the shoulder, face, shin, and arm. She also hit the homunculus several times. Ren squeezed the monsters throat as hard as he could to make sure she was dead, and threw her at the little girl.

  Just like Gigi knew he would.

  Sidestepping so Reba could land on her face, Gigi took the needle and syringe she had filled with Reba’s super juice, and stabbed it into the dying girls butt cheek, depressing the plunger. 'Now for the sucky part!' Gigi shut her eyes as Pazely’s dad impaled her through the back, and out her tummy with his right claw. Lifting her in the air, and walking from Reba, who was already getting to hands and knees.

  Looking over his shoulder at the rapidly healing monster, he was curious. “That injection, will it work on humans?" Reba either ignored him or couldn't yet speak, as she struggled to stand. Ren looked at the filthy blonde girl impaled on his fist. She was suffering greatly. "Is there more of what you gave her?" he asked, and again he was either ignored, or Gigi was too injured to respond. If this creature had a substance that could repair his shattered body, he would know of it.

  Reba was still reeling from Gigi’s little gamble. She couldn’t believe Gigi shot her! And then stabbed her in the butt with hopefully the right stuff! The NERVE! Reba looked up in time to see Mr Nakajima fling an impaled Gigi from his fist like piece of garbage, throwing her into the wall near the door to the pharmacy. The child hit the ground and didn’t move.

  Gigi wanted to cry. The pain, the weird barfing bloating feeling, the difficulty breathing, it all SUCKED. She was dying for real. Least it didn't hurts as bad as when she got covered in that monster dog's blood... Gigi was facing away, but she still noticed the flash of light that she knew would happen. Unfortunately she couldn't see as Reba, eyes blazing white, rushed Pazely’s dad, and began beating him the ever loving shit out of him.

  Ren was defenseless. The homunculus snapped his arms, pulverized his jaw, broke his legs, and to finish it off, she threw him with unbelievable strength into the car he had smashed her head into, landing him half in and half out, of a broken side window.

  Too berserk to find it odd that Mr Nakajima was still moving, and was about to slide back out of the window, Reba walked to her staff, picked it up, and threw it like a spear; impaling it through his chest as he dropped, pinning him in place, intending to return to the trapped man, and rip his limbs off.

  She was not too berserk to hear Gigi’s feeble plea for help. Enraged with the need for vengeance and justice; what good would all the power in the world be, if the plight of the innocent went unheard?

  Blinking, feeling dazed, her eyes drifted to Gigi, laying in an ever growing pool of blood. Cursing, she rushed into the pharmacy, ignoring the snoring Stryker, and grabbed her bag, hurrying back to the dying child. “Stupid! Stupid, stupid!” she chastised, trying to fill a syringe with shaking hands. Reba dropped her vial of her all healing stuff, and it landed on Geeg, rolling to the ground un-broken. She was so shaken up!

  Taking the soaked, bloody little girl in her arms, she managed to pour the vial into the Gigi’s mouth. Who gagged twice, and Reba knew the girl was about to vomit it up, so she reflexively did something rather gross: put her mouth over Gigi’s to catch the medicine (and God only knew what else) she barfed up.

  Miraculously not vomiting herself, she got the kid to re-swallow, and hold it down. A couple weak coughs and Gigi whimpered. “That wasn’t my first kiss...” she complained feebly, to her dance instructor that was spitting off to the side. Despite having her mouth barfed in a moment ago, Reba was so overcome with emotion and relief she couldn't help herself, and gave Gigi a -not exactly romantic, yet not exactly motherly- kiss. “But that was,” Reba teased, spitting again. Now the child was alert, and blushing brightly.

  “I’ve never seen you embarrassed before.”

  “I'm n-not embarrassed! I just didn't know you was like Ally!” For a moment Reba didn’t quite get what she was talking about. Then realization hit her like a ton of bricks “Ally likes little girls?!”

  Reba had the most clueless expression on her face. It actually irritated Gigi enough she immediately got over her embarrassment. It was sooo annoying when those you looked up to went full retard.

  “Where... is… my… pixie... ?” Ren Nakajima gurgled, loud and clear enough to be heard from the vehicle where he was pinned. Reba -expression still dumbfounded- looked to what was pretty much a talking corpse, yet very much alive. Kinda like Stryker.

  “Can I kill him, miss Reba?” Gigi asked, and an emotion other than ‘derp’ finally crossed the instructors features. “Please? I know he’s all weird, but Gigi could cut his head off!” The twinkle of delight in the kids eyes had Reba creeped out. At least she also realized the before comment meant Ally liked girls, not children. A second after, the panic from that realization kicked in. Ally liked girls?!

  “I truly wish you wouldn’t!” an all too happy voice called from behind her, in the direction of the Rock. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it,” the males voice conceded. Reba was on her feet fast, shielding her eyes from light being shined on them. “Use a lantern for heavens sake, you are blinding her!” The extreme light vanished, and an illuminating soft glow appeared, brightening the entire area they were in. If Reba hadn’t been worried before, she was now.

  “Do retrieve him,” the pompous looking slender blond man, in the elaborate white and gold attire, spoke to the four at his side. The color in green with the gold trim, and the color in black with the identical gold trimming, were gone in an instant, and suddenly at Nakajima's side. The vindicator and reclaimer with the gold trimming, remained near the blond man's side. Reba positioned herself to have Gigi behind her, the car to her left, the the new arrivals to her right, near some huge mountains of earth that blocked the view of anything in that direction.

  She knew exactly who this dandy was; Matias Figaro III, Supreme Ruler of the Order. His entourage, with their gold trimming, were the Royal Guard.

  The two royal colors freed Nakajima with ease. Reba was surprised to the smaller color was not only in an unheard of green, but also a female. There were female Colors, but it was incredibly rare. A female royal guard? “Take him back, and make sure he recovers,” Matias casually instructed them. “Put him under full guard, and sedation. Tell Colbert to remove as much of his blood without killing him as possible.” The black and green colors bound away, carrying Pazely’s dad with them.

  “I don’t believe we’ve formally met!” Matias beamed at Reba, who was praying she wasn’t shaking. “Matias Figaro the Third,” he introduced himself, with flourished bow. “And you are the great Reba, no?” She remained silent. “I must say, I love the outfit. The age suites you as well. A beauty is a beauty, regardless of their... displayed years.” Still, she did not speak, nor move, though she was chastising herself in her head for choosing such a ridiculous outfit. The top of which had twisted to not cover her properly. She righted it subconsciously.

  “Don’t you think if I meant you harm, you would already be, well, harmed?” he laughed. “No, on the contrary, I would love for you and your guardian to remain alive and healthy. Especially after today. I have a lot of questions, and I believe it is finally time for the two of you to come home.”

  Reba needed the others here. Now. “Gigi-”

  “Yup,” the child interrupted her in confirmation, not question. Or at least it sounded like it. Matias sighed, and flipped his immaculate short blond hair. “Please don’t make this difficult. I know your history, and how you were treated. I assure you that will not be the case again. You will be treated like a princess! Unless, of course, you give me cause to have you treated otherwise. Which... would be quite unfortunate.”

  Her mind spinning, Reba hoped the others would hurry the fuck up. She knew these colors would be head and shoulders above Mr Nakajima. And if Figaro was here, he no doubt had a way to defend himself. Matias was as pampered and pathetic as he appeared. Not a warrior in the slightest. If he was risking his life like this, he had to have good reason, and even better protection.

  Then Reba saw her. Saw it. The remaining two guard did a moment after, weapons now in their hands, moving to to be in front of their leader. Not that Reba was paying attention to the colors anymore. They suddenly felt like rodents in comparison to the beast that had arrived. Reba’s fear was growing by the second. “It’s okay,” Gigi whispered behind her. 'Yeah Gigi, sure, it's all freaking great!' Because if things weren't already bad enough, now there's a damn imp here!

  “’Sup!” Iiyni waved to Figaro and his entourage, squeaky cheer in her voice. “You good?” she asked. Figaro’s face twisting in confusion as he studied the scantily clad, drenched, and gore splattered imp. “That a no?” It took Reba a moment to realize the demon was talking to her. Or at least the demon was looking at her. “What?” Reba asked, sounding confused as she felt, and Iiyni rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “You are Yhu'niea'jeatara's daughter,” Matias breathed, and Iiyni rose an eyebrow, a bit surprised he knew her; not so surprised he knew her slut of a mother. “Iiyni’jeari’eea, the acting Tyrant of Lust,” he further identified. If Reba wasn’t confused before, she sure was now. Tyrant? As in the mythical super demons? “Mmm hmm,” Iiyni answered, not appearing impressed at his knowledge. Nor appreciating the inclusion of ‘acting’ in her title. “And you are?” Figaro looked like he had been slapped. “Me?!” he pointed to himself. Iiyni kept staring. “You do not know who I am?” She continued staring. “I am Matias Figaro the Third! King, and Lord, of the Order of the Illuminati!”

  Iiyni burst into laughter. Figaro looked rather irritated. Reba couldn't help but groan. Did this jackass really not only change his title, but also rename the Order? The Illuminati? Really? “Really?” Iiyni giggled, mirroring Reba’s own sentiments. “The Illuminati? What are you, like, twelve?” Matias went from appearing irritated to furious. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you guys pretty much are the Illuminati, but for fucks sake, really? Lemme guess, you have a closet full of fedoras too, right? Oh, oh, and you command an alien lizard army that secretly rules the flat Earth!” Iiyni broke into more giggling laughter, with a couple snorts. Matias was so red with anger, Reba was pretty sure he had forgotten what was talking to him.

  “Meh, no matter,” Iiyni waved a hand dismissively, forcing herself under control. This whole having proper emotions thing was going to take some practice to keep reigned in. Those were honest laughs! “I just was stalling a bit.” Now Figaro calmed, realizing he had been -at least mildly- played. Which he apparently felt was better than being mocked.

  From the mount of asphalt and and earth behind the near naked little demon, came John and Caleb, followed shortly by Feldyn and Ally. The entire group was wearing what looked like a mismatched hodgepodge of color garb. Caleb and Feldyn both had swords, Ally had- uh… Ally had a small pink and white stuffed animal cradled in her arms.

  “Are you okay?” John called to his daughter, calm and casual, averting his eyes, and tensing his jaw. He had expected the de-aging, though nothing quite this extreme. And he had most definitely not expected her to be dressed like that!

  Reba stood, mouth hanging open, watching the imp casually talk with Caleb and Feldyn. Not that either male was paying much attention to her. Both of them -and Ally- had noticed the pretty brunette child dressed like a -cheap- fetish prostitute. They knew it was Reba. John had told them she may look younger. Even if he failed to mention she may have transformed into a child. Either way, their had enemies to worry about, their friends now safe as they could be.

  “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” Reba shouted, taking everyone’s attention. She had been keeping it together since waking, doing her best not to over-think, or worry, but what the flying fuck! John surmised her confusion quickly, turning on the Dragonheart with a stern glare. “Did he not explain?” John asked loud enough for Reba to hear. The boy shrugged. John swore sometimes! The angel was supposed to let Gigi know the imp was coming, to not panic them once she arrived!

  “You side with demons now?” Matias asked John. The two had never met. Had never before seen each other face to face. Yet each knew the other well. “I side with Christ,” John replied, then added, “as does she.” Matias laughed, his smug personality regained. “A Christian demon? Are you mad?” Reba was wondering the same thing, though leaning more towards senile.

  “It is no matter,” Matias waved a hand, dismissing the matter. Iiyni kept expecting the fagarino of a leader to pull a rose out of his ass or something. Would sure fit his persona. “You are all surrounded,” dandy dude informed them. “Questionable ally or not, the wards inscribed around us will keep her contained until she can be dealt with.” His smile faltered when their expressions didn’t change. Figaro began looking irritated again. “I am not bluffing old man,” he warned in a threatening tone. “I do not wish for your life. Or the lives’ of those with you. Not even the demon’s.”

  “Too bad we do not feel the same about you and yours,” John replied with an unfaltering smile, leaning on his staff with both hands. “Did you not hear me?!” Matias asked angrily “You are surrounded by-”

  “By a hundred of your best?” John interrupted. “Those were their best?” Ally chimed in. “Wow, I thought the Order was supposed to be scary.” Although Iiyni killed most of them on her own, the ones Ally and the others had to deal with hadn’t seemed anything special. Not compared to the crap they had dealt with recently.

  “Wards were pretty good though,” Iiyni had to admit. “Burnt like liquid ass.” She shrugged. “Wiped up easier.”

  “Must you?!” John snapped in disgust. “What?” Iiyni asked with a pouty face. “I just said ass. Liquid butt more Christian? I mean, you guys curse like shit blocked sailors! Still got the mark on y’all, dontcha? Fuckin' chill.” Iiyni's expression and words made the old man want to backhand her.

  “You would have me believe you killed the entire force I had dispatched to this area?” Figaro asked, ignoring the way the imp and old man were bickering. “Yup,” Iiyni confirmed, turning from John to look at Figaro. The Order leader snapped a look to the royal vindicator next to him. Sheathing one of his two small curved blades, the red color touched a com he had in his ear. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing.

  The look he gave his leader conveyed the situation. Matias knew better than to assume it was a comms failure. Their comms didn’t fail. After the shield-barrier came down and they were met with an onslaught of minor demons, Nakajima had absconded with both of the Tears and a drone. Once the majority of the demons had been dealt with, a second drone was sent to look for Nakajima and scout the area. Finding the rogue vindicator, as well as John's group, had been easy. Matias quickly sent colors after John, with orders to kill any demons they found, and to take John, and other humans he may be with, alive.

  If he had known a tyrant were here... He had assumed the imps some lesser pawns of X’al’antra’s. He should have known. The other two must have been the sisters. Bah, how foolish of him to underestimate the Vampire Queen!

  Even still, the plan should have worked! Allow that hot headed fool Nakajima to run off, and then try to get both the priest and homunculus in one place - hopefully the same place as Nakajima. Then surround the area with colors and ward it. Just in case. Figaro had assumed the colors had noticed the imp and allowed her to enter, trapping her inside for easy disposal, not realizing whom she was. Apparently his faith in his troops was ill given.

  The Tears of Longevity being stolen, was also not part of the plan. How Ren had even gotten to them was still a mystery. A mystery Figaro intended to solve quickly. Too quickly. His haste and confidence in those he commanded led him here, standing face to face with an opponent so powerful, without the extra shielding on himself and his guard, he would be doomed.

  Even still... Matias had a bad feeling. This was all wrong. He shouldn’t have listened to her! No... No, he would not doubt her now. If Alice couldn't breach his personal shielding, than neither could the imp. He would remain strong. Figaro's love for the Tyrant of Madness was real, and he believed in his heart that she loved him too. But a demon was a demon, and he could not risk fully trusting her. Not quite yet. Not before he proved his greatness! That he was worthy of being her King! Worthy of sitting on the throne of Hell! The only man who could leading the armies of hades, in a conflict that would reclaim Heaven and toss the self proclaimed God from his throne! A throne that Figaro would claim for himself!

  “You’re afraid,” Gigi said loud enough to get the Order leaders attention. Figaro looked at the little girl. One of the Russian toys. Only three of them left. Such a shame. The girls were bred for the utmost of pleasures. Maybe he could still take these two alive. The tiniest, by Reba, was too young for his taste. Only Alice could surpass that boundary for him, as that was a desire of the heart. The other one, standing by Williams boy... “And why would I fear, child?” he smiled, finally regaining his sense of confidence, thoughts of future pleasure encouraging him.

  Matias was standing before a treasure trove his for the taking! The Philosopher’s Stone, two of the Russian toys, and the Cursed Air’s son. Caleb, that was his name. Now that William was dead, there was no one to object, or stop him, from doing as he would with the boy. What better soldier could he train to lead his armies, than William’s own son?

  “I am protected from even the mightiest of demons! I am shielded from the strongest of bullets! Even now an army rushes to my aid!” he flourished his arms, and grinned. “What reason do I have to be afraid?”

  “Cuz,” Gigi said, looking him in the eyes, “you’re gonna die. And you aren’t gonna be king down there.” His heart felt like it had stopped. The little girl smiled, and the worst feeling of dread he had ever known washed through him. But just for a moment. Just one fleeting moment. And he had barely kept from screaming. It was almost like, in that child’s eyes, he had looked into fear itself.

  Iiyni had grown bored. She had gone along with the plan. They hadn’t known who was here, John suspecting it might be a trap, and the area may be warded. It had been. He also said to kill them all, regardless of rank. So that meant this cuck of a leader could die too, right? He really did have the most powerful warding around him she had ever seen soil-side. And if his bragging was true, some type of personal shielding. It made her curious.

  The warding around the perimeter needed to all be in place at once; Iiyni had gotten lucky and interrupted it being drawn. The warding on the Order leader was, of course, already complete. Only it had a very specific flaw. Though if it was an actual flaw or not, she wasn't sure.

  Usually demon warding was bright enough, the actual runes were difficult to read, if at all. And not like demons had a big use for writing wards themselves. Too risky anyway. You had to finish it without making contact, or blap zap.

  Now, Iiyni assumed since she was saved, the warding wasn't very bright, the writing easy to read. And where she didn't understand it all, one part was very clear. The warding on the Order twat and his goons, specifically kept out non-Christian demons. Like, it actually, kinda sorta, said that. Evil, demons without the Spirit, could not pass. The damn ward looked lethal as all fuck, but Iiyni really wanted to know how her new found Christian status worked. Being, as far as she knew, the first of her kind. She could feel salvation, which she was trying very hard not to think about. She wasn’t doubting what had happened to her, or anything, it was… well...

  Without another moments thought, she dove at the Order leader, and punched, tossing in a bit of chakra for extra oomph. The kinetic shielding was more solid than she had expected, but still broke easily enough. When her fist simultaneously hit the ward, it burned as bad as she had expected, yet shattered easily as a pane of glass.

  Her fist slammed into Figaro’s sternum, the chakra-impact flying him into and through a wall. Iiyni jumped atop the man, punched a hole through him, grabbed his spine, and ripped it out, body jerking around spaztastically.

  “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” John roared at the imp. The two royal guards didn’t waste a moment in fleeing. “The fuck's your problem?” she casually asked, wiping the blood off of her on the fallen leaders white tunic. “You foolish child!” he shouted, and Iiyni ignored him, checking Figaro’s pockets. Looting corpses was always exciting! The others hurried over to Gigi and Reba. “Iiyni...” John said in a low, very angry voice, approaching the imp. “The leader of the Order has a monitor implanted in him,” he explained. “If he dies, it will broadcast an alert.”

  “So?” Iiyni asked, standing up straight and frowning that there was no cool loot to be had.

  Explosions sounded in the distance.

  “The top officials are bound to him by a toxin, the antidote only he knows the location of! They need regular doses, or they die. I honestly do not know why they even allowed him to enter the field. There will now be panic to find and take into possession the antidote those at the top need to survive! And that's only the beginning!” Now Iiyni got it. She looked down, and shuffled her feet. “Oh,” was were reply, feeling stupid as she figured Zit always should. “Yeah. Oh,” John grumbled.

  With the death of Matias Figaro III, the imp had just ignited an Order civil war.

  And they were standing at ground zero.