It was a coin flip if Foreigner would come back the man that Foxtail had befriended and although it pained her to see him on the operating chair knocked out and immobile, she was sure he would understand her priority of keeping Peepers safe and Jin’s Meister safe too.

Their plans were changed though. Foreigner was meant to coax the Banshee out of the warehouse, or at least keep her preoccupied while Itzhak and her set up their ambush from above. Maybe even lead her to the traps set up earlier, although with her guard as high as it was, she might have discovered those traps and disposed of them.

Everything was belly up but there was no use in complaining about it. All they could do was push forward.

“Little Fox,” Itzhak’s massive hand gingerly rested on her shoulder, “I know you are full of nerves but now is no time to hesitate. The battlefield awaits us.” Foxtail looked up at Itzhak, small black buds protruding from his ears, and acknowledged his statement.

There was no turning back now. They involved themselves in a situation beyond them and now both Foxtail and Peepers had grown from it.

She pulled out her mirror shard and attempted to call out her friend trapped within.

They waited. And waited. And waited.

No response.

“Tsk.” Foxtail smacked her tongue. They were going with the split offensive having no information available from within. The knot in her stomach twisted at the thought of Peepers failing to communicate but that worry would only make her work sloppy. She suppressed it as best she could and pressed onward. Itzhak split off from Foxtail, his hulking frame barrelling towards the front end of the warehouse to make a dramatic and bombastic entrance. If the Banshee was preoccupied with the presence of Itzhak within the warehouse, she would be less wary, hopefully, of Foxtails movements to secure the hostages and get them to safety. So long as they were around and tied up, they were liabilities that the Banshee could leverage.

They were close now, the patchwork warehouse creaking and moaning, Itzhak’s heavy steps getting closer and closer to the buildings first floor entrance, Foxtail following parallel with light feet, reserving her abilities for the oncoming struggle.

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“Crash!” Itzhak made contact with the door frame and the metal easily gave way. The metallic walls shook from outside and the many strung bells rang within.

It was her chance now and she slipped into the second floor doorway, the string used to alert the Banshee a mere note in the cacophony of noise and disarray her friend was causing down low.

“Hello!” Itzhaks voice bellowed, a small ha ha celebrating his triumph over the first hurdle. “I have come for a fight, Miss Banshee! I regret to inform you that Foreigner has other business to attend to.” The psychological component. Make her assume that Foreigner is also skulking in the shadows, waiting for his moment to ambush her, a time that should come if he ever joins them in the middle of the fight.

“Click, click, click” A low clicking noise pulsed from one end of the warehouse to another. Foxtail reached out with her little ones and jumped, hiding behind a crate in a motionless position. The enemy was using their echolocation to read out the number of combatants. Seeing as there was only one moving, she could assume that only one is present or, what Foxtail hoped, would remain paranoid enough to assume that her abilities were disclosed to the rest of the team and have to maintain some focus on her blindspots for shadow opponents.

“rrrrrRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH” A piercing shriek tore through the first floor, loose debris flung to the wayside with cables for hanging platforms above snapping in its path, clanging and shattering on the ground. Itzhak winced but remained immovable. For her part, Foxtail also remained immovable, the buds in her own ears blocking out a lot of the noise, but the nausea from a passing shockwave like that left her queasy.

The danger approaches… the wraith in her mind whispered. As if on queue, Foxtail caught a glimpse of the purple shawled assailant running forward, glimmering blue eyes piercing through the dark, hungering for a slaughter.

“It looks like this beast is in women’s clothing,” Itzhak punched his fists together and crackling electric arcs emerged, “I hope you are ready to be put down.”

Itzhak jabbed his fist forward and a beam of electricity arced out from the motion. The projectile crackled with energy as it raced through the air and connected squarely with the Banshee’s form. Her body ragdolled, momentum forward and backward causing her to spin, but only momentarily. The shawl lit up again and the fluid fibers became rigid as it pierced into the ground.

The banshee slipped the shawl covering her mouth down and smiled, “If that is all that you’ve got, then Foreigner has sentenced you to death.” Her voice was ice that ran through their spines.

Foxtail hurried along from above, hoping Itzhak could handle himself below, hoping she could secure the hostages and contribute in the fight, and hoping that Foreigner would save them if things got out of their control.