> █████, Border Station #4, Lobby.

> 5th of New Conception, 1316;

> 8:30 Sol Time.

“Same plan as before, you two, northern wing first. Having Ari on board would eliminate most problems.” Karter calls out, taking a brisk pace towards the north gate.

Wordlessly, the two agree as they follow closely behind, the tension still noticeably thick. They approach the northern wing’s gate, wary of any noise that suggests movement, but they hear none from behind it. Shaking his head, Karter gestures to carry on as he lifts the shutters.

As the location reveals itself, it is in utter disrepair. The entire lobby has scratches and severe damage all over it, not to mention the copious helpings of somewhat fresh blood, and unavoidably, a few bodies. Something about the place seems more violent than in the lobby, not that daemons seem to be pacifists in any place, but still…

Just as Karter is about to take the first step in, a bone-chilling snarl-like sound bristles the trio, Karter lightly puts his foot back into its previous position. Looking at the other two, both of them shrug in a weak manner, making him shake his head in much the same way.

His voice down to a whisper, Aethel asks, “And what exactly did you see on the camera that made you think everyone was fine?”

“I saw him leading a group through the backrooms of the place, it seemed to me he was just peachy… although, in my defense the damn place was in a better state a few minutes ago.” tilting his head slightly, Karter replies.

Régis, face coming into another scowl, manages to spit out, “I told you bastards, time was of the essence—” but is cut off by another snarl… one closer to them.

Suddenly, into perfect view, a translucent thing crawls on all fours. It looks far more vicious, though its true detail is in obscurity, than even the daemons in the lobby. Truly, the thing is horrid, it has uncountable rows of bloody, sharp teeth. It has claws that cut and ruin the floors as it walks. It is something anyone would call abominable.

It draws close to them but it does not attack, it simply passes on by, perhaps not seeing them or something similar. The group is at a standstill all the while, all three of them visibly in a state of perturbation, but undeniably in far too much fear to show it.

“It doesn’t see us… I think.” whispers Régis after making sure the monster is long gone.

Aethel, warily moves his eyes from side to side, arguing, “Do we wanna take the chance right now?”

“Of course we do, if we don’t kill it, who realistically will?” Régis immediately responds.

Crossing his arms, Aethel continues to argue, “Yeah but if we die—”

“We’re not going to die. Come on, Karter, tell him.” gesturing his hands out, Régis’ voice has hints of exasperation.

Extending his hands in front of both men to calm them down, Karter reasons, “Régis is right… somewhat… if we leave it here, nothing good will come of it. I dread to say it, but we have to take it upon ourselves to kill these things, it will also help Ari and the group he is leading.”

“Fine, but it isn’t like I don’t want us to go in, it just doesn’t feel right at the moment… this just feels like a bad approach.” Aethel concedes, his hands balling up.

With no more words between them, the trio take cautious, silent steps through into the wing proper, making sure that whatever lurks within does not take note of them.

Aethel keeps his voice as low as possible, asking, “What’s our goal right now, you know, other than tempting fate?”

“The employee’s access, Ari should be somewhere there with the civilians, then we can think about what to do next.” with a similarly quiet voice, Karter replies, nodding to himself.

Narrowing his eyes a little, Aethel asks another question, “Are you guys always this unprepared? Two times now.”

“If you did not notice, it was more like we have been blindsided two times, so I think we are doing the best we can.” mumbling before clicking his tongue, Karter glares at Aethel.

Régis butts in with a whisper, “I have my own damn question, what's with the constant bickering—”

“Quiet, our destination is close now— dead ahead.” Karter cuts Régis off with a finger to his mouth, before pointing out the door in front of them.

Standing there before them is a door labelled ‘EMPLOYEE’S ONLY’, it is slightly bloody but otherwise seems to be nothing of note to the daemons, the trio nod to one another before stealthing their way to it.

Upon it, Karter grabs the handle and gently turns, cracking the door open as silently as he can. Peeking inside as he brings it across, a deserted and looted lounge greets the trio, as if everyone here left in a haste… understandably so. Nevertheless, they head in as Karter slowly closes the door behind them and locks it.

> █████, BS #4 Northern Wing, Employee's Lounge.

> 5th of New Conception, 1316;

> 9:05 Sol Time.

Aethel begins to speak, “That was—” but is cut off by a small creak on the other side of the room.

The trio turns to the origin immediately, it is a large cupboard with its door slightly ajar, that door then suddenly closes. Seeing this the group turns to one another, and as they all shrug… they decide to approach it.

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“Whoever you are in there, we are not here to harm you, we are here to help as best as we can.” Karter takes a commanding tone once again, although he does so in such a way that keeps his voice quiet.

At that, a squeak comes out of the cupboard, after that, a rather violent thud… seconds later, a voice, “...Who are ya, and wassup with the military-man cadence?”

Aethel stifles a laugh while Régis simply puts his hands on his hips, otherwise, Karter shows no reaction at all. Instead, he calmly crouches down to grab the cupboard’s handle— before pulling it open with force.

Inside the thing is a young woman, perhaps slightly younger than Aethel and Régis, wearing a unique looking green jumpsuit with elaborate embroidery. More than just that, she has a rough look to her which the white streaks in her deep purple hair only reinforce… the best way to describe her is… delinquent.

“The fuck you doin, you tryna get me killed?” she yammers with her accent sounding very citylike, after a few moments, she crawls out and takes on some kind of stance.

Doing a slow facepalm, Karter laments before asking, “Great. Another fucking kid— did you see anyone pass through here, or with you with anyone before deciding to hide?”

“Nah, I crawled in here after I woke up from my nap, sum real freaky shit was happenin’.” says the girl as she motions hither and thither without any real aim or reason.

Aethel takes a step forward, suggesting, “Should we… like… take her back to the platform?”

“Too damn risky at this point, especially with how she runs her mouth.” Régis literally waves away Aethel’s suggestion, taking his own step forward.

The delinquent girl attempts to respond, “Hey I’m right he—” but is cut off by Karter walking in front of her as he faces the other two.

“We have to take her to Arianos, under these circumstances, she would be safer there with the other civilians.” states Karter in a very matter of fact kind of way.

The girl walks out from behind Karter, an intense scowl on her face, reprimanding in a concerning volume of voice, “Don’t fuckin’ go ignorin’ me, asshat.”

“Be quiet—” Régis fires back almost immediately, though his voice is still rather quiet.

Cutting Régis off, the girl raises a fist to the trio, “What’s with all this sexist shit?! I can decide wherever and howev—”

A loud crash breaks through from behind the door, with it, a loud and disturbing snarl. The door begins to budge in a horrible way, causing the delinquent to retreat to the far end of the room, while the trio ready themselves for whatever might come.

With another crash and violent budge of the door, a hinge begins to come loose. Then another hit, the top hinge comes off, bending the door in an awkward manner. Bracing for the inevitable— the final attack on the door connects and it sends its barreling across the room, forcing the trio to evade.

The delinquent girl, however, is not too lucky… she is directly hit and sent forcefully into the wall, unconscious… or…

No time to ponder it— for as the breach has come open, three of those translucent terrors enter, they all focus on the point of impact— or rather, where the girl lays vulnerable. The trio in separate corners of the room after evading, realize this, and all make their own noise.

Aethel kicks a chair off to the side, turning the attention of one of the daemons; to similar effect, Régis knocks a random appliance off of a table; finally, Karter stomps the floor hard enough to make a cracking-esque sound.

Successfully diverting the three foes, who all separate to each sound’s location, the trio all make daring and silent escapes, crawling with extreme caution. Things go well enough, and each member is nearly by the still laying delinquent— but Aethel cries out in pain, having put his hand down on a sneaky shard of glass.

“Fuck!” Aethel screams, falling to his side, his eyes darting towards Karter and Régis.

Without much time to react, the translucent daemons are starting toward Aethel, their claws and myriad fangs out and ready to rend. In that instant, Karter launches himself towards Aethel, channeling his energy to the point of gleaming in an inhuman manner.

He speaks no words as he lands by Aethel’s side, releasing a power so otherworldly— its hue so violently crimson and radiating so oppressive a heat. It envelops his entire being, then clears, and in his place is a humanoid, but not human, clad in infernal— literally looking to be made of brimstone and blazing infernos— and rather gothic raiments.

The beasts sic upon him, tearing at his figure, but Karter stays stalwart as he calmly shakes them off— before exposing them to a veritable geyser of fire, setting each and every one of them in a conflagration of pure melting ruin.

Squealing in agony, the beasts flail while alight, their erasure from this world slowly creeping up by way of the reddest, most majestic billows and flame. As they are made nonexistent, The humanoid figure begins to wane, and as it does, blood begins to pour from its side. The origin appears as a deep and cruel gash, one of the beast’s works, no doubt.

As the blood pools, falling into it is Karter, now seemingly back and with a grievous wound. Aethel immediately crouches, with several yelps of pain in the process of, next to him. Régis, in a stupor, takes a second to shake it away before following suit. Régis cradles Karter in his arms, inspecting his wound.

Régis speaks in a frantic and quick voice, pressing his hands on to the wound, pleading, “Aethel—! This is a goddamn fucking nightmare! It’s—this is really fucking bad— how are we…!?”

“Shit— guh— I… I’ll try and go find… fuck… I’ll go further— augh— and try to fin—” Aethel struggles, speaking through his winces, trying to come up with a plan… he is cut off before finishing his sentence.

Ari’s voice rings out, he soon halts— almost tripping— from the mad dash that brings him here, and kneels beside Karter, “What the fuck, loves?! What the fuck has happened?”

“It’s— it’s k-kind of fucking obvious— goddamn— Ari—! Karter’s fuh-fucking injured an-an-and—” almost babbling, Régis looks near the verge of tears.

Wordlessly Arianos takes his coat off, hastily ripping parts of it into long strips of cloth, he pushes Régis off of Karter and begins wrapping it around the latter. His hands move in an awkward and shaky manner, but Arianos pushes on, bandaging Karter’s waist as best as he can.

All of his clothes staining in a disturbing amount of blood, Arianos finishes the wrap, but before beginning to tie it up— a new set of snarls begins to approach, and quickly at that.

Pausing for a second before continuing the procedure, Arianos does not look at Régis while he commands, “They can smell the fresh sanguine… Régis, you must defend us.”

Bloody himself and breathing heavily, Régis gives Ari a shaky nod, before standing up and channeling his blades. Aethel can only watch as the scene unfolds… and it… is bloody? No… it had not begun… there was time yet… yet Aethel knows he saw…

With his own blank expression, Aethel sees both Ari and Régis staring dumbly at him.

“Aethel…? Is that you?” Ari asks unusually…

This causes Aethel to look at his hands… and they are not his own. Aethel, or whoever sits in his place, is similar to the previous, infernal humanoid figure, but is instead clad in white and kingly robes. As if the very ideal picture of heaven is the weave of the robe itself, and upon its head is an impressive crown, but not with gems… no, with eyes.

The voice which leaves his mouth is grand and so brilliantly clarion, “It… is… It is me, Aethel.”