"I'm guessing you weren't expecting this from me."

Roy Oliphant-Dawkins panted for breath. This whole thing… had really been a workout.

Arrogance, in his new flaming form, had pursued Roy through countless maintenance tunnels, swinging and clawing at him with such speed and ferocity that he could do little else than block or dodge. Opening himself up to attack was out of the question -- and yet it was infuriating. Every second he was locked in battle with this creep, he was getting further and further away from the others, from the kids.

He couldn't very well protect Scout, Chloe and Rico from all this if he let himself be led miles away. The most manly thing you could do was protect your own. His old man had never done that, and Roy had decided years ago that he'd be different. He'd show his kids what a real man looked like.

Which was how he'd ended up in this situation.

In an instant of blinding movement, he'd managed to get himself behind Arrogance and wrap his thick arms around the creature's waist. The enemy writhed and thrashed in his grip, but from this position he could do little more than that. The real issue was the heat: Arrogance's body was wrapped in flames, and as Roy held on that fire was biting furiously at his arms and chest, even through his Aether defenses.

How much longer could he hang on like this? A couple of seconds? Thirty at the most. The smart thing to do would be to finish his plan now, but he still needed to brace himself for what came next.

"You might think," Roy grunted. "This is another maintenance tunnel, but that ain't the case. This is a nendon gas line I've punched our way into. You know what nendon gas is, friendo?"

Arrogance just screeched bestially as it writhed in his vice-like grip. Roy wasn't quite sure whether that was a 'yes' or a 'no'.

"Well, long story short, it blows up. I was hoping just throwing you in here would be enough to set it off, but it looks like those aren't normal flames you're strutting around in." He grinned. "Guess if you wanna have something done right, you gotta do it yourself."

They were surrounded by a galaxy of bubbles, floating leisurely through the air, each reflecting and refracting the Aetherlight around them like some kind of disparate kaleidoscope. Roy heard the creaking of wood as he squeezed Arrogance's chest, tighter and tighter, wincing as the flames licked at his own body.

"I'm pretty sure we're both covered in my blood at this point -- and to be frank, pal, I'm sweating up a storm. We're gonna go up like a birthday cake. I'm pretty sure my Aether defenses are good enough to give me a fighting chance here. You, though? I'm not so sure. Anyway…"

He grinned, preparing to begin his suplex.

"... let's find out together, okay?"

"Pa!"

Roy was jolted out of the moment by a familiar cry, coming from the gap he'd opened to enter this gas line. His son was standing there, panting from exertion, Aether battery clutched in one of his hands. He was clearly ready to use that ability of his.

If they did use it here, though, the building would definitely collapse on top of them after. Their chances of surviving that were lower than their chances of surviving this.

With a single glance, Roy gauged distances, calculated odds. Numbers avalanched through his mind, leading to the inexorable conclusion. His original plan was still the best way to go: with the distance he was standing, Scout had a good chance of making it out of this intact.

Better than his old man, at least.

Roy's grin widened. "This is gonna suck," he declared.

And then he hurled Arrogance backwards in the suplex of the century.

----------------------------------------

Dragan took what he genuinely thought might have been his last breath as Deceit, eyes cold, raised his weapon high. Crimson light gleamed off its pragmatic surface. He could even see his own reflection on it, a corpse ready for the last formality.

And then the knife came down --

Boom.

-- and missed.

In the moment before the dagger would have speared right through Dragan's eye socket, the entire building shook, sending Deceit stumbling forward onto the ground. The knife struck the metal floor next to Dragan's head instead, striking up sparks, and in that split-second he found himself face-to-face -- barely inches away -- from the Deceit puppet.

He wouldn't get another chance like this.

Deceit opened his mouth to speak, to subdue him -- but that wasn't going to work from this distance. Drawing upon his last reserves of strength, Dragan lunged forwards, clapping a silencing hand over Deceit's mouth. In the same instant, scraps of electric blue Aether began coiling around his body.

Two words were all he needed.

"Gemini Shotgun…" he slurred.

At this range, there was no risk of missing. Two point-blank shots tore right through Deceit's midsection, splitting him in half and sending the two sections of his body flying off into the air. Neither of them hit the ground -- instead, they dissipated into orange Aether, which surged out of the room through a crack in the ceiling.

Dragan's mind raced as it recovered from Deceit's onslaught.

The Aether has to physically go back to Cott when the puppet is destroyed. It's not so fast that you couldn't keep up in a vehicle. Destroy a puppet and follow the Aether to find Cott. Need to tell the others about this. Need to get up. Need to fight. Can't. Too hurt. Can't. Can't. Can't.

Still standing over Keiko's body, Carla clicked her tongue as she lifted her gun in Dragan's direction again. Clearly, she'd reloaded -- and Dragan didn't have it in him to use Gemini World again. Was this it?

"Guess you really do have to do everything yourself," she muttered -- and the gun spat fire.

Thud.

But it never reached Dragan's skull. Instead, it struck the shield of rock that had suddenly appeared between Dragan and Carla, formed by the desperate swing of an outstretched arm from the fog. An arm Dragan recognised.

Fix. Resentment and relief broiled through him in equal ratios.

Asmodeus Fix charged out of the fog, fist already swinging to demolish Carla Oliphant's skull -- missing only by mere inches. In the second she dodged, Carla's eyes flicked between Fix and Dragan, running calculations, deciding her next course of action. This clearly wasn't a fight she could win.

Her eyes hardened with just a hint of regret, and Dragan recognised the intent to retreat in that gaze. As she landed back on the ground, Carla whipped her hand out of her coat and pulled free a compact grenade, flicking the trigger and hurling it towards Dragan with all the technique of a farball player.

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He couldn't dodge. He couldn't fight back. He couldn't--

Another wave of that massive arm, and the grenade was encased in a sphere of stone. A second later, Dragan found himself caught in a massive bear-hug, Fix angling his body to shield him from the incoming explosion. He felt Fix's breath tense just slightly as the seconds passed, but that was all: the anticipation of pain, but not death.

Bang.

The explosion was smothered somewhat by the rocky shell, but the shrapnel that burst out was still deadly. Some of the shards of stone bounced off of Fix's surging Aether defenses, but others stabbed into his back like knives -- less vital areas that weren't as much a priority for shielding. The second the onslaught was over, Fix whirled around, pulling a hefty plasma pistol out of his coat and pointing it forward.

He had no target. As silently as a shadow, Carla Oliphant was gone. All that remained was Keiko, lying still on the floor.

Dragan winced as he slowly picked himself up off the floor, looking down for the first time at the dagger lodged in his arm. He'd been feeling pain from so many sources that he hadn't had time to really concentrate on any specific wound. Guess he'd be going back to the hospital before long.

"How'd you know I was here?" Dragan grumbled, glancing at Fix.

As Fix pulled the stone shards out of his body without so much as a gasp of pain, Dragan spied the dried blood on his knuckles. Well, that explained that.

"These assassins pass information among themselves," Fix replied, dropping the bloody rocks to the floor in a neat pile. "I had one of them tell me. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Dragan snapped, looking away from him. “More importantly…"

"Mr. Dragan!"

With the smog finally clearing -- it couldn't have been sticking around naturally for this long, surely -- it was easy to see Serena leaping up from below, pulling herself onto the elevated section using a pair of curved swords like climbing picks. She'd clearly had a tough time of it, too: her hair disheveled beyond belief, a nasty cut running along her stomach. Violet Aether still crackled around her battered hands. Fix raised an eyebrow at her as she strode past.

"You guys okay?" Dragan asked, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. "Are any of them still around?"

Serena shook her head. "Monophobia can make a lot of different puppets, but most of them are really weak. They're only a problem because there's so many."

Dragan nodded. "Power in numbers. Where's Ruth?"

With a frown, Serena cast her sad face down to the ground. "Rico got hurt -- one of his cousins, too, but Rico really bad. She went to take them both somewhere safe."

It was Dragan's turn to frown. "What? We're splitting up again? After what happened last time -- and the time before that?"

A meek shrug. "I guess."

He could already see history repeating itself -- Ruth getting attacked by some random freak, them going after her, and the whole situation exploding into yet another clash. From what Dragan understood, Cott could just keep endlessly sending aspects of himself after them from wherever he was hiding out. That meant they weren't safe so long as he was alive.

The only one that decides what happens to me is me.

"Fuck that," Dragan sighed. "I'll give her a call, and we're going after her. From now on, we stick together no matter what -- Skipper should still be at the hospital, so we'll group up there."

Fix cleared his throat from behind him. "Are you sure it's wise to keep moving around in your current condition? You hardly got out of this encounter unscathed."

Ah, shit. Dragan had been so happy forgetting that Fix was here for just a few seconds. He turned back to the larger man, a scowl on his lips. "If I'm hurt, the best place for me to go is the hospital anyway."

Fix closed his eyes, nodding slowly as he acquiesced -- as if it was any of his business what Dragan did. "Very well. I'll keep you safe as we travel."

"Do whatever you want," Dragan snorted dismissively, turning back to Serena. "Anyway, we can't just stand here talking about it. We'll grab whoever's still here and --"

"You…"

The voice was weak, raspy, on the very edge of nonexistence -- but it spoke all the same. From the floor, the girl named Keiko looked up, wavering eyes fixed on Serena. Blood poured liberally from her mouth and stomach wound.

Shit. She was still alive? Dragan had been sure she was dead after the evisceration Carla had committed. He ran over and went to cover her wound -- only for Fix to beat him to it, forming a bandage of smooth stone with a wave of his hand.

"These wounds are lethal, Keiko," Fix declared coldly, looking down at the girl -- he knew her as well, then, having worked for the family. "This is for dignity alone."

Keiko ignored them, continuing to stare at Serena.

"You…"

----------------------------------------

Serena blinked, looking down at the girl who'd been her companion for barely an hour. The person who hated Cott just as much as she did. And here she was, bleeding out on the floor. Serena had been so fixed on Dragan that she hadn't even noticed. How could she not notice?

She kneeled down next to the dying woman. "What is it?" she asked quietly.

Keiko slowly blinked, her gaze returning to the ceiling. "It was Carla," she muttered, her lips deathly pale. "It was Aunt Carla. It was her."

"I don't know who that is."

"Doesn't matter. I trusted her. Stupid, stupid. Shouldn't have trusted. Need to tell you something."

Serena bit her lip anxiously. In this moment, why was Keiko Oliphant-Hidaka directing her last words to her? They'd known each for such little time. "What?" she asked.

"Cott. Weakness. He -- it must be, I think. He has a weakness."

Serena perked up at that, and the fire inside her stoked up once again -- but now with an undeniable structure to it, a path for it to follow. Her sword would come down, sure, but it wouldn't strike randomly anymore.

"What is it?" she hissed, insistent.

Keiko coughed violently, blood trickling from the edge of her lips. She spoke quickly, in bursts, as if afraid she wouldn't be able to get all the information out in time. "There's a c-coffin. He takes it everywhere. Best security he can b-buy. There's something in it. Something he's scared of. You can tell -- on his face. Do you know it?"

Serena slowly shook her head. Coffin? That didn't ring a bell at all. Cott had never had anything like that the entire time Yakob had known him.

"It's his weakness," Keiko repeated, nodding faintly to herself. "It is. It has to be. He never goes f-far. Find it and you find Cott. Open it and you beat Cott." A sudden, faded expression of terror came to her face, and she stared pleadingly into Serena's eyes. "You'll kill him, right? You will kill him?"

Serena gulped, nodding. She didn't know how she'd do it, but she knew breaking a promise was the worst thing a person could do. She'd hold herself to account.

"I will."

The slightest bloodstained smile spread across Keiko's lips, and she slowly closed her eyes. A second later, all expression slackened away.

"Oh…" she whimpered, lips barely moving. "I wanna go home…"

Those were her last words. After staring at her body for a good long while, turning the information over in her head, Serena stood up. Her fists were balled tight at her sides. Her eyes were resolute.

"Coffin," she said to herself. "I'll get it. No matter what." With that promise made, she turned her gaze back to Dragan, who was still looking down at Keiko's body with an unreadable expression. "How do we start, Mr. Dragan?"

He looked back up at her, blinking. "Carla wanted everyone here dead -- and she told the Cott aspect to gather all the bodies to show to Abraham Oliphant. That means he's still on his way."

Serena cocked her head. "So?"

Dragan gave her a serious look. "If he's coming here, then she'll be coming after him -- and Cott'll be with her."

He clenched his own fist.

"And that's when we finish them both," he declared.