Three arrows flew at Ruth, and she met their approaches with three projectiles of her own - chairs, thrown with all the speed and power she had to offer.

Two of the arrows were smashed out of the air by the incoming furniture, but the third twisted in mid-air like some kind of underwater eel to avoid its fate. This final arrow continued to rush towards Ruth, spiraling in the air so as to dodge any more attempted seating attacks.

One left. Ruth opened her mouth as she jumped out of the way of the arrow's approach. As expected, the arrow snapped to move back towards her at a sheer angle, increasing its speed to the utmost for what Simeon almost certainly believed would be the killing blow.

Well, she'd make him work much harder than this for it. She moved her head backwards once again, out of the arrow's path just as it was about to spear through her temple. Then, before it could adjust to pursue her again, she snapped her head forwards and bit.

She'd never really understood why some people stuck to a single way of fighting - like that guy Muzazi with his sword, or the way martial artists practiced moves hundreds of times. If God had given humans bodies with so many potential weapons, wasn't it only natural to use them?

The arrow was held firm between her teeth, writhing frantically as the pink Aether coating it clashed with Ruth's own scarlet aura. It was a losing battle for the arrow from the start, though - it only had the Aether Simeon had infused it with before firing, whereas Ruth's teeth were connected right to the source.

Finally, the clash was over, and Ruth's teeth met as the hair flopped down in her mouth. A second later, she spat it out, wiping her mouth with the back of a gauntlet.

Simeon chuckled from up above. "That's certainly a … unique approach. But surely you don't think taking out three of my arrows will be enough to stop me? I'm not exactly lacking for ammunition, you understand."

He was right. His Aether tic clearly made his hair grow quicker, and he then turned those hairs into arrows - in essence, he could continue firing as long as his Aether held up. She didn't have enough time to wait for that.

Her eyes flicked towards the stairs. Too far - she wouldn't make it.

Then they flicked towards a wrecked table off in the corner of the room, directly opposite Simeon's elevated position. A smile played across her lips.

Oh, that could work.

-

Bruno was starting to understand.

As he went flying backwards from yet another explosion, he projected a series of fragile forcefields behind himself to break his fall. He still fell into a crouching position on the ground, but the damage was much less than it could have been otherwise.

Panting, he wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth as he peered into the smoke that was now filling most of the hallway. He wasn't in ideal shape - his whole body was aching, and he was sure he'd been burnt by these explosions once or twice. When his well of adrenaline ran dry, he'd be left whimpering on the ground.

So he had to win quickly.

Reyansh somehow had a way of defending against his own explosions. That was the only explanation for how he could unleash them so many times, in such close proximity, and remain untouched. It wasn't his normal Aether defense, though - if his protection had been that strong, Bruno would never have been able to lay a finger on him from the beginning.

A specialized shield, then? A separate power from his bombs, designed to specifically negate their effects upon his body?

It made sense. Bruno knew that if he had the power to make things explode, he'd need assurances he wouldn't just blow himself up before he could fight freely.

If that was the case, though, why the interval between detonations? Why not just continually spam explosions until Bruno was dead? There was a risk involved, then. What was it?

Something clicked in Bruno's mind.

Oh, he thought, certainty pulling his scattered theories together. So that's how it is.

The smoke in front of Bruno parted as Reyansh strode out. In one hand, he held his knife, dripping red with blood. In the other, he tossed a collection of pebbles up and down.

He looked down at Bruno with impassive eyes. "This next attack will kill you, you know," he said. "If you wish to make known your surrender, I would suggest you do so now, brave one."

Bruno rose to his feet with legs that were already beginning to tremble beneath him, chuckling weakly. He wiped some blood from his face with the back of his hand.

"Fuck you," he spat.

For a moment, Reyansh considered the insult, still tossing those damn pebbles up and down even as they began to crackle with Aether. Then, he sighed, shook his head.

"Disgraceful," he said quietly - and hurled his payload towards Bruno.

This time, though, Bruno didn't dodge backwards. He didn't dodge to either side. He didn't even try to block the incoming projectiles.

Instead he ran straight towards them, a roar erupting from his throat. The bottom half of Reyansh's face was hidden by his mask, but Bruno felt a wave of satisfaction as he saw the bomberman's eyes widen in surprise.

"What are you-?!" he spluttered, taking a step backwards.

What was he doing? Something stupid, most likely, but right now all of his options seemed to fit that description. If he was going out like an idiot, though, he'd be going out a victorious idiot.

Bruno passed the pebbles as they flew through the air, continued running towards Reyansh even as he heard them explode behind him. Layered forcefields over his back blocked most of the resultant flames, but the shockwave struck him unimpeded - and sent him flying towards Reyansh all the faster.

The shield that protected Reyansh from his own explosions - Bruno knew there was a reason he didn't just use it constantly. And he had a theory for what that reason was.

The shield protected its master from explosions - but it left him vulnerable to everything else.

Bruno pulled his fist back as he flew through the air, infused it with as much Aether as he could - until his hand was like a purple meteor streaking across the hallway towards Reyansh. The bomberman, eyes still shocked, brought his knife up to stab at Bruno, to try and finish him off before he could unleash his own attack.

But at the speed Bruno was moving, the knife was all too slow.

Bruno plunged his fist forward, screaming from the exertion of forcing his fingers together - and his punch smashed through the knife, shattering it like glass and going further - further - until it finally met Reyansh's jaw. There wasn't much in the way of resistance there.

There was a satisfying crunch that vibrated through Bruno's fist - and Reyansh went flying backwards, rolling to a stop on the ground in an unconscious heap.

Specialized shielding and a glass jaw. Not the best mix.

Bruno slumped against the wall, wiped sweat from his brow while trying to ignore Serena's mental cheering. That had … that had taken a lot out of him.

You did it, Bruno! Serena shouted.

"Yup…"

A second wave of aching pain ran through Bruno's body as a new sound echoed throughout the hallway: approaching footsteps - and someone running from the sound of it. His eyes flicked towards Reyansh, but the warrior was still unconscious. One of his allies, then?

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"No rest for the wicked," he mumbled, forcing his aching body up to its feet. He didn't have much left in him, but that didn't mean he was going down without a fight. He turned to face the corner the footsteps were approaching from - and with a grunt of exertion, he assumed a combat stance.

Come on, then.

Dragan Hadrien came running around the corner, a stun pistol held in each hand. The moment he spotted the scene in front of him, he came to a stop - sliding across the smooth floor for a moment before coming to a complete halt.

His eyes looked from Bruno, to the unconscious Reyansh, and back to Bruno again.

"Oh," he said, scratching his head. "Guess you don't need my help after all."

-

Simeon chuckled derisively to himself as he continued his assault.

Targets like this Ruth Blaine were always the easiest. Dumb brawlers who didn't know how to deal with problems that were out of punching range. By aiming his shots carefully, he could force her to move in any way he wanted.

Really, he could dispatch her at his leisure.

He fired off a series of arrows as the girl made another try to run for the stairs, the projectiles blocking off her path like a set of prison bars. She jumped backwards, glaring up at him defiantly - and he answered that resolve with another arrow that narrowly missed her head.

He'd allowed it to miss, of course - the whole thing was theatre. If he truly wished for it, he could dispatch her in a second. But this hunt was what he lived for.

A grim smile crossed his lips. With this bow in his hands, there was no need to cower and dive for cover. Now he was the one who rained down hell.

"If you stop moving," he called out mockingly, lowering his bow for a moment. "I might just kill you quickly. It's your decision, of course, but I thought I'd just give my recommendation-"

Ruth Blaine jumped up.

The rest of Simeon's sentence died as a choking sound in his throat as he brought his bow back up, Ruth Blaine quickly growing larger in his vision. Her feet were twin stars of red Aether, all the strength she had access to going into that sheer leap. It seemed she'd abandoned going for the stairs and was instead going to try heading straight for him.

Still, it was futile. After the panic passed, Simeon could recognize that instantly. With the speed Blaine was moving, she'd never make it up to him - she'd barely reached the second floor, and she was already at the crest of her jump.

A noble effort, but it would make for a humiliating end. Enough games. By jumping, she'd left herself unable to dodge his most potent attack. Pink Aether began to spark around Simeon's hands like a thunderstorm, the air around his bow vibrating as if in sympathy for Blaine's impending death.

Leaden Arrow.

Simeon licked his lips, aimed his bow, and let go of the bowstring.

His arrow blasted forward like a spear of pink light, leaving a smoky trail in the air behind it as it rushed towards Ruth, a high-pitched screeching audible from the sheer speed. Simeon had infused it with a great deal of Aether - more than enough to pierce through Blaine's gruesome mask with ease. He idly wondered if it would keep going and impale her against the wall - that would be a thing to see.

Simeon grinned in the moment before the Leaden Arrow struck true.

Goodbye, Ruth Blaine.

And the arrow hit its mark.

But Ruth Blaine didn't stop moving.

She'd twisted her body in mid-air to dodge, yes, but not to move out of the way. Instead, she moved her body in such a way that the arrow struck her in the side, rather than her head.

It wasn't a lethal wound - but it was certainly a painful one. Blaine screamed in pain as she was dragged along the path of the arrow as it continued to fly, towards the opposite side of the room.

Towards a ruined table leaning against the wall there.

Ruth Blaine looked up at him. She was grinning.

No. Simeon didn't quite understand what he was seeing, but he knew - he just knew - that he'd missed something.

Blaine's legs flared with red Aether as she flew - and when the light cleared, her grungy metal armour had been replaced with something like seamless marble, decorating her lower body, glowing with a pale white light.

Don't let her do it. He didn't know what it was she was doing, but he wasn't going to stand there and just watch it happen.

Simeon took aim again and fired off a volley of arrows, as fast as he could, ten screeching projectiles in all. They lunged towards Blaine as one, and as they approached and Blaine continued flying backwards, she pointed her legs straight towards the table she was being flung towards.

Idiot. With the speed she was moving, the impact would break her legs - leaving her a sitting duck for his arrows.

-

Ruth Blaine was no idiot.

She might have not been able to do complicated equations in her head, sure, or work out a building's layout just by listening to the people outside. But she could fight. She could understand a fight like a complicated dance, know which way to step without ever having to think about it.

For someone like that, the most insane things just came naturally.

Her Noblesse Set - the bottom half of which now covered her legs - shattered when it received a blow, negated the damage, and reflected it upon the attacker. An ordinary person would use it to block attacks, to counter blows, and that would be it.

But Ruth Blaine was a genius.

Because of the arrow in her side, she was moving at an insane speed - and she was going to crash, feet first, into the table behind her. The damage to her body would be immense. So naturally her Noblesse Set would reflect it - all the speed and velocity she'd built up being sent in the opposite direction.

And that would give her quite a boost.

Her toes brushed against the table.

-

There was a sound like a cannonball going off, and the opposite side of the room exploded into a shower of rubble. Simeon was sent staggering as the floor he was standing on shook, and his bow slipped from his hands.

"No!" Still, still, he didn't understand what had happened - but a part of him knew, instinctually, that it was too late to stop it.

He glanced down, and witnessed it.

One second, Ruth Blaine was pressed against the ruined table - the next, she was upon him, clearing all three floors of the room in less than a second. The arrows he'd fired, meaning to finish her, had been left in the dust.

There was a whistling sound as Ruth Blaine's claws sliced through the air.

This time, hell rained up at Simeon del Dranell.

-

Skipper strolled into the security room, hands stuffed into his pockets as he whistled. He wasn't especially surprised by what he found.

When referring to a place like this, 'room' was something of an understatement. It was more like an artificial cavern, with walls so far apart and a ceiling so high you probably could've built a neighbourhood in there.

The walls were lined with compartments like the drawers of a morgue, each one presumably containing a dormant security drone. Skipper's eyes ran over them - at least a hundred in all. A ready-made recipe for a not-so-good time. Ingredient one: strength in numbers.

Ingredient two: environmental dangers.

A great, long pillar stretched from the top of the chamber down into the abyss below. Skipper did his best not to look down: he didn't know why places like this so often featured bottomless pits - to vent heat, maybe? - but it was unsettling all the same. The closest thing to solid ground was the long walkway that led from the entrance to the pillar, and that felt far too flimsy for his liking.

Ingredient three: the youth.

The pillar wasn't there for structural reasons, of course - it was the terminal to direct the hospital's security network. That man Sait had set it to repel any intruders, but the lion's share of the security drones had clearly been left inactive. The girl standing before the controls, channeling her cyan Aether into it, seemed intent to change that.

"Hello, Skipper," she said, not even turning to face him as he approached. The four drones bobbing and weaving around her did a fine job of that - their guns were trained on Skipper the moment he made himself known.

"Think I must've taken a wrong turn," he said, taking in the room as he approached. "This was meant to be a hospital, not a preschool."

"Funny." From the sound of her voice, it was anything but. Skipper had to admit this wasn't his best material - but hell, she was putting him on the spot.

"You in a negotiating mood?" he asked, coming to a stop a few meters away from her. Any closer, and he got the feeling those drones would start firing.

"Not really," Noel muttered, continuing to channel her cyan Aether into the console in front of her. So it took a little longer to take over a massive system like this.

Skipper cracked his neck. "That's a shame." Looked like the only option was to beat up a child.

"Whatever," Noel replied, still not looking at him. "Take care of this fucker."

That last part wasn't directed at Skipper - instead, Noel glanced up as she said it. Skipper snapped his head up to follow her gaze, and -

- he was sent flying backwards as a figure dropped from the ceiling, landed in front of him, and landed a devastating kick right into his stomach.

Skipper turned over in the air as he flew - and when he was facing the ground again, he planted his metal hand into the floor below, his fingers leaving deep gouges as he came to a halt. His emerald Aether had protected him from a good deal of the damage, of course, but that had been a damn strong kick. Dull pain ached through his side.

"Don't believe we've been introduced, ma'am," he grinned, doing his best to hide the pain.

The figure that had dropped from the ceiling was a young woman with bright blonde hair and blood-red eyes, wearing a zipped-up leather jacket and a pair of jeans. She looked more like she was heading out for a night on the town than gearing up to fight.

The woman grinned wickedly at Skipper, putting a hand to her hip as she lowered her leg, returning to a neutral position.

"Nice to meet you, too, old-timer," she said - completely casual, as if they were two acquaintances meeting by coincidence. "You're right - we haven't been introduced. The name's Marie Hazzard. I'm a Special Officer of the Supremacy."

"Ah," Skipper winced. "So that's how it is."

"Yup," Marie said, beginning to move forward again. "That's how it is."