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(SOUL) - SISTER IV

They ventured into the bay area, waiting for any evidence to come into contact with them. Allen wasn’t certain about her plan at first, but it was also undeniably true that Apex would have raided the sector again if they ever found out about Noel’s concealment vessel. Her intent looked too damn serious to be her usual playfulness when she mocked a throat-slitting gesture with some funny sound effect of: ‘We gonna make them a last supper, bro’. An intimidating sight that reflects the true nature of the real entity inside Noel—someone that is capable of killing mercilessly—that’s what he felt deeply inside. He faltered; maybe he brought a walking war-head into the street. It felt too real to be a joke from her; that’s what his instinct told him subconsciously.

Two hours passed, and there was no sign of any enemy contact. Allen takes his break in the shade of an alley in the bay area. He hands over a bottle of refreshment to Noel after he finishes half of it—which she grabs and drinks directly with no hesitation, just in one motion straight down, then she throws the bottle away immediately.

“That was... A bit wild, Noel.”

"Oh, you think so, brother?”

“Well, it reminds me of someone quite brutal.” From his observations, he is certain that it was what ‘the real she's’ habits are. Maybe Noel's real characteristic might be someone fierce and wild.

“Of what?–?”

“—Nothing special. Let’s go.”

Allen walks away for a few steps, but Noel does nothing but stand still in the dark alley. She seems to be still thinking over his words, perhaps?

“I’m sorry. Don’t mind my word; let’s go, Noel.” He waved his hand, calling her over. But she stands still, going nowhere—he thought that she would take offense, but no, she didn’t. Instead, she looked around, tickling her finger on the wall where her body was leaning. Waiting for something impatiently.

“They’re coming—.” Said Noel.

“They?” Allen looked into her eyes, catching the flicker of concern in them. Her expression warned him not to take any reckless action at that moment, so he paused before turning around. Seconds later, he heard footsteps stalking out of the shade. In his vision, Noel seems to be fearless, despite some mechanic-hounds slowly proning out on her behind as well as his back. They both look across each other's backs, while an unknown enemy pronely closes theirs.

*clicks* Allen heard the familiar sound of a finger slowly touching a handgun’s hammer, readying for a shot, where he was about to start his reaction to this threat.

“No brother, that's too dangerous.”

“I know.” He reached his hand into his pocket, inch by inch.

Unknown voice from behind: “You should follow those missy words, young man, or else.” The man pulled down the triggers.

“Or else what?” Allen continues reaching down into his pocket and turns around in an instant as the mysterious man starts attacking. A shot fired from the barrel. In an instant, Allen sliced the bullet as it flew towards him at lightning speed, ricocheting the split particles over the metal-hounds behind Noel's back within a second.

“Run!—Noel!” He shouted, but Noel negated his will. She lied down, dodging the hounds’ leaps, and instead of running away, her side thrust kicked the machine away with powerful forces. “Run?—Who?” Noel responded while hip-tossing another mechanic hound. “—And why so, brother?” In her eyes, it was filled with fervent passion for bloodthirst.

“Whatever!” Allen threw his hatchet right at the mysterious man's arm. He trades his weapon for the enemy's—just before the shot is fired. As he was about to charge at the mysterious man, Noel grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall as a volley of fire was about to hit him. Noel, a young biracial girl, appears to be an experienced fighter, well-trained, and superior to any outstanding special force Allen has ever seen.

“What the hell is this girl?!” While commanding the hound-droids with gestures, the mysterious man noticed that they no longer responded. All the droids malfunctioned; their heads were all decapitated—but since when?

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Multiple shots were fired as the enemy panicked, whereas Noel dodged every trajectory with sinister grins, radiating her intimidating primal instincts. Just as humans tower over insects, Noel's presence is indifferent to mere mortals. It's as if she's an otherworldly deity, gazing down on us with cold, unwavering, and calculated stares. Stunningly, she was also able to catch a single bullet with a two-finger grip as if it were nothing as she periodically leapt closer to her target.

“You monstrous!—”

Noel interrupted the man's speech, raising her low dangerous voice. “Well, well—it seems like you already ran out of bullets for me.” She stopped in front of the mysterious man, and he pointed the gun over her forehead.

"You failed the math, Missy—this gun has extra bullet space." As the man was about to pull his triggers, Noel clapped her hands in a cross direction at superstition speed, forcibly redirecting the gun's barrel inside the man’s mouth. “I will keep that, but—in your head.” Says, Noel.

The mysterious man in the hood shook and wavered as he tried to force the direction of the barrel out, but his strength couldn't compete with Noel's. Nevertheless, she slowly inserted her fingers over the man’s thumb, which was holding the gun trigger that pointed to his mouth. “Says, you think I should learn how to count, right?” With a fierce glare, Noel's insulting gaze delved into the depths of his eyes. “Everheard?—Never teach math to Asians?” She slowly applies pressure to the man's thumb, pulling the trigger to blow his own head off.

An inner explosion exerts forces inside the chamber—releasing pressurization, forcing the pellet to strike out of the barrel, but the man was alive after the shot. Noel, surprisingly, is fascinated by her brother’s quick hand—her eyes are even widely opened.

“I never remember teaching you to become a murderer, Noel.” Allen stated this in a cold tone. He grabbed her wrist and redirected the gun before the shot killed the enemy. His reflexes were quick, as if he could read his sister's intentions, which he presumably did back then at the ruins as well.

“What a merciful brother I had—But why—?” Noel spoke in a merrily cheerful voice, and she let go of the handgun.

“I tried not to make another murderer, this guy is enough already.” Allen reveals the hood of a mysterious man, showing the tattoo on his neck that he has already noticed where the man came from. Bardoux-Prison is the place for felons committing deadly crimes; there’s no way this guy would be released for sure. ‘Never heard of an escape prisoner from Bardoux before, is Apex now low enough to use an outlaw bounty hunter for disposal purposes—?’

Taking advantage of Allen's distraction, the prisoner headbutted Allen, seizing his chance for escape. Noel never intends to follow up nor take any action; instead, she just observes her lovely brother regaining his consciousness in a short period of time. Allen flips his hand over the air as soon as he stands up, spreading his finger—calling for something that later boomerangs towards him. As soon as it reaches his hand, Allen spins his entire body on his heel, releasing the move that flung the hatchet at high speed over the prisoner’s leg. The pain and agony were shouted loudly, and the noise repeatedly began again as Allen pulled his hand—calling back the bloody-rendered hatchet that flew back to his hand by his magnetic pulling glove.

“Well, you’re quite a runner, Nicholas.” Allen stepped over the wound, reading the barcode name on the prisoner’s neck out loud despite its agony. “Listen, I wanna learn something from you.” Allen dropped his hatchet edge over Nicholas’s face, just before it contacted the prisoner’s cheek any deeper. Allen used magnetic forces to pull his hatchet up to his hand. “Please—?” Said Allen, sarcastically formal, while Noel watched over his act closely, passion sparkling in her eyes for Allen's benignancy (supposingly).

After spending some: ‘Happy-Tea-Time’ with Allen, Nicholas, and Missy Noel, they both learn that the real contractor remained unknown to Nicholas. But it seems like he, the prisoner, doesn’t like much of the Velvet-cake that Allen served over his mouth. It was unknown if the cake was velvet before—or later became velvet after it soaked up Nicholas’s blood. Sooner or later, after a few more minutes of tea-party chit-chatting, Allen also learned that the main contractor was among the underworld’s people—those Tinkers.

“In that shadow, have you ever spotted any fancy tattoos?” Allen started to guess his suspicions based on what he was familiar with.

“—Vividly, I mean colorful and fancy.” He added it up.

For a few seconds, Nicholas couldn’t come up with what was on his mind. Maybe it's a little too broad.

“—Something like some Rainbows?” Allen injected some thoughts.

“Oh! Yes! There’s one.”

“Muscular, brown muscle head?”

“Yes, he is.”

*Sighs* Allen breathed out and kicked the prisoner away into that dark tunnel. “Farewell.” He learned about the mastermind already, and while motives were unclear, he rarely took his short-tempered act. It seems like there was some sort of personal goal that interfered with his reserved personality. Soon, both Noel and Allen will start heading to the junkyard, where Allen initially finds Noel.

“Whelp, it’s going to be a long trip here. Ready for a field trip–Noel?”

“Yup!—To where?” The girl asks passionately.

“The scrapyard from the Apex. You know.”

She nods.

“But, Noel—” Allen curiously raises his question. “Where do you learn about those Asian jokes?—I think it's long gone already.”

“Internet.” She replied with a wide smiley face.

“But you’re Primordial, not really an Asian, right?” Noel went frozen, slowly tilting her head away as if nothing ever happened.

An hour later, while they’re walking down the street, Allen suddenly asks a question as he realizes something on his mind. He raises his voice out of silence.

“Noel.—”

“Hmmph?”

“Technically—you know that you’re adopted, right?—since I picked the real you from the junkyard.”

“You damn brothaa! You’re the worst.” She kneels over him.

Allen laughs as they have a long-way to go.