Belaphorde walked uphill against the thousand-year flood. Trees laid fallen over roofs. Anything with a basement was flooded. Still, as Belaphorde turned a corner he could see a gang of Skulls running past recognizable by their scarves. The hunt was still on. A family was pushing a cart filled with their belongings up the road. They were fleeing up to the mountain plateau that stretched out from the north of Kaleido.

Bela hid among them, pretending to push the cart from the side. It was a good disguise. He would have wanted to help them earnestly but his arms were like cooked spaghetti. Once he was getting questioning glances and found a secure-looking building Belaphorde peeled off from his escort and curled by the entryway of a boarded-up train station.

People came and went along the street. Some huddled up with Belaphorde on the platform. Sometimes Bel thought he saw faces he recognised in the crowd but he was too lost and tired to call out for anyone. That was until he was hit by a sudden gust of wind, followed by blue wisps.

Belaphorde's eyes lit up, "Vigo!" He called out. The gust turned and a blue ghost materialized into old man Vigo in the blink of an eye. The veteran was still bleeding from his mouth. Wet, beaten, and with pitch-black eyes.

Vigo embraced Bel and kissed his forehead. "My boy," he whispered into his ear with a broken smile. "Thank God."

Belaphorde held on. Over the years he had gotten used to Guiding Vigo. It felt like a gentle breeze passed over his hands as he drove out the ichor. For a minute they were both glowing with ghostly halos.

Having regained his senses Vigo went rigid and pulled back.

"They are still after me, the mask -"

A panther-like figure surrounded by purple sparks stepped out of the shadows at the other end of the road. They wore a black raincoat, their hood hanging low framing their striking white mask with a purple streak painted across it.

"How kind of you to get together, makes this easier." She called out while rolling her shoulders.

Belaphorde was furious and moved in front of Vigo."Why do you want us so bad!? I can't save anyone. Life is hard enough without this idiotic fighting!"

"You know, Guide-" the Mask flicked out a nightstick from her sleeve with a smattering of static. "I might have let the two of you go if you had just snuck out. There's so much else to get done around here… then you hurt my sisters. Consider this fight personal, Omen Guide and Little Big Boss."

"Are you kidding me!?" Vigo spat out blood. "You are an Esper working for such an obviously evil organization as the Skulls, ain't there enough misery in the world without you crab-bucketing good, hard-working folk?"

The Mask ignored the veteran. "Try to enjoy yourself. The stage is set, let's dance. In five…"

Belaphorde analyzed the situation.

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Onlookers gasped in horror as the Mask took up a fighting position with lightning rolling on the ground around her. On one side of the road was the train station with tent houses sprawling out along the forgotten tracks. A with a water tank swayed over the station on wooden stilts. Opposite of the station was a picket fence with more housing behind it.

Vigo had his "ghost" ability. He could go inhumanly fast, with enough speed he could become invisible and incorporeal in bursts. But it took a lot of energy and quickly built up ichor to get to those higher level abilities. His main weakness was being old and having pains everywhere, not to mention the beating, bleeding, and exhaustion Vigo was under.

"Let's take this punk out, I'll trust you Belaphorde." The veteran straightened up, popping his joints.

Their opponent clearly had some electricity ability. Belaphorde imagined that she had to be either a B or very cocky C-level Esper. Either way, she would be too strong for Bel's punches to do a thing, and getting close would be dangerous. The electric abilities might act violently in the storm.

"Stay on the defensive. I got a plan." Belaphorde let go of Vigo's hand and sprinted to the station platform.

"Two… One!"

Like an Olympic runner, the Mask sprinted down the lane with her baton held high at the ready. Belaphorde grabbed an old lady's walking stick while muttering his apologies and threw it to Vigo who caught it in mid-air and swung it down to parry the Mask.

The Skull girl went for a kick but with his superior speed Vigo kneed the small of her leg, causing the Mask to stagger but could not stop himself from wincing at the effort. Vigo swung with his makeshift staff and the girl dodged backwards.

“You got some spunk, gramps! But I wonder, how long can you keep up?”

“This old dog is far from done.” Vigo wiped the blood off his face with the soaked sleeve of his tracksuit.

“Well, let’s get some power into this mix.”

The Mask roared as lightning danced around her baton. She flicked her wrist and the lightning rolled out over the road towards Vigo. With great effort, he began to move and used his powers to go back and around the rolling thunder. He continued to circle around the Mask and swung the walking stick. The Skull girl threw up her hands to block and the stick broke in two on impact. Vigo was still moving through the air and could not change his course as the Mask jabbed him right on the nose, sending him flying into the mud.

Dazed Vigo tried to stand up as the Skull kicked his knee and grabbed him by the back of the head, sending electric shocks down his spine. Vigo let out a primal scream into the storm before going slack.

The Mask shook her head and sighed. “So much bark and no bite. This dance is over, Grandpa.”

Vigo summoned all his strength, black ichor and blood flowing from his face as he jumped. Using the momentum he turned incorporeal and appeared behind the Mask. He pushed her face down into the dirt and held on as the girl continued to electrocute him with lightning lashing out wildly from her back in panic.

Belaphorde had been working hard on pulling out screws of the water tower support structure. The wooden beams were swinging back and forth and with enough of a push it toppled over.

“VIGO JUMP!” He shouted so his voice cracked while riding down on the falling tower.

Vigo let go of the Mask and ran, turning incorporeal as the Mask was pinned down by a beam with her stomach to the dust.

"Bastards- I’ll kill you. Let me out. Fuck!” She continued to swear, squirm, and swallow mud.

Vigo was shaking and swung his arms around. The old man was snarling like a beast, ichor and rage keeping him going.

Belaphorde jumped off the tower and cautiously approached Vigo. “Sir… “ He held up his hands and took slow steps forward. “Uncle Vigo. It's me.”

Vigo looked at Belaphorde like he was a pile of rotten fish. His mind was consumed by the dark. Around them the rain poured on and people were struggling for their lives as everything was washed away. When Bel got too close Vigo smacked him with the back of his hand. The Guide sat in the mud, touching his cheek, and looked up at Vigo who pounced on him.

Vigo was slamming into Belaphorde’s chest with a toothless mad grin. Bel reached up and grabbed Vigo’s arms and began Guiding. Vigo fought back for a second before he flickered his eyes closed and fell unconscious in Belaphorde’s arms. The gentle winds dancing around them as Belaphorde drove out the ichor gave the young man strength and comfort. The veteran was in horrible shape but he was not lost.

Belaphorde got up and pulled Vigo over his shoulders. He should not have the energy for it, but with the Guiding of this person who had become so familiar and attuned to him, it was like Belaphorde was healing himself, turning the ichor into fuel.

“So, this is how I got defeated. Mark my words, Guide, we’ll meet again. So don’t you dare die until then. I'll tare you limb from limb!” The Mask cackled as Belaphorde passed her.

Onlookers stood in silence and followed the Guide with their gaze until he disappeared into an alley, blood washing away into the streams behind them.