Horst heard a high-pitched ringing until a soft hand cupped his forehead. He stopped gasping for air, stopped coughing, as he felt the strained skin of his neck soften a bit. Larox and Lavinia leaned over him as he managed to roll on his back and open his eyes. Slowly, he pushed to all fours and looked at Lavinia. She was like a nightmare, her worn denim shorts and cotton shirt covered with gore, her soft skin stained dark red.

A shin bone pressed his palm as he grasped. It was Tray's lower half. The body tore open just above the groin. The upper half laid closer to the other side of arena. A deep breath escaped Horst's lungs; he had been too busy struggling to regain conscious to witness any of what had happened.

"What the-" Horst said, "What's Lavinia doing here, and how did you defeat the captain?!"

In the background, the announcer began ranting, overcoming speechlessness, "Outside interference, the rules have been broken! This is the most unusual bout of combat I have ever witnessed."

A chorus of 'boos' rained from above.

"Surely such outside interference qualifies our gladiators for the death penalty. They will at the very least have to prove themselves in another match. What is this? A combat group is being sent to take the prisoners back to their cells and assess whether our vessel is indeed deactivated. Citizens, this is a most unusual turn of events. Such foul play!"

Lavinia looked down at Tray's body and then pushed her blood-soaked face, sticky with gore, into Larox's chest. Her legs felt shaky and her energy felt low, though Larox didn't have the strength to carry her.

"Your wounds are inside you," Lavinia said.

With what little energy she had left, she pressed her hands into Larox's chest and sent a small aura of light blue into his body. Larox spit and nearly doubled over, but he could move again. Lavinia collapsed into his arms, yet he felt strong enough to carry her. They were observed from every angle in an arena blockaded from all sides like rats in a cage.

"Any idea on how get out of here," Horst asked.

A slender arm fell limply from Larox's cradle. The lightness of her body made it seem as if one false move would break her, though he knew better. lavinia kept her breathing deep and her eyes were closed, but her sleep looked painful, uneasy. Tears ran down her cheek. Her hand shot up suddenly and clutched Larox's chest.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't- The MER he was fused with are unstable, we need to get away from here now!"

Lavinia returned herself to a forced unconsciousness. Nearby, the lower body remains of their captain began melting into a heap of hot tar. The tendrils that portend silhouettes rose from the husk with a slight sway.

"That's really helpful," Horst said, "But as I was saying, any way to get out of here!?"

-----

"This is most unexpected."

Beads of glass crunched under black leather shoes. An index finger pushed the wire frame glasses with only one lens. A smile grew on Alfred's face. Lavinia's power far exceeded Helen's. The battle had taken his breath away because he had witnessed the perfect fusion between biology and mechanics. He threw the controller designed to extract Lavinia's MER over the precipice. Events had not gone as Helen planned; her older sister had been underestimated by far. Alfred turned away and walked out of the suite, not bothering to tip a bartender whose eyes remained glued to the display screen.

-----

Helen reddened as she stared at the footage of her older sister falling from the suite into the arena, followed by the brief melee and the explosion of Tray's insides. Copper colored hair pulled taught as she witnessed everything through the wall mounted television in Delant's office. Her fang bit down on her lip. A bit of blood dribbled down her chin. She caught her composure and turned to the man sitting at his desk. Jim looked rather neglected because of her attention to the television.

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"It wasn't, it wasn't supposed to happen that way! I had everything-"

Jim stood up from his desk as Helen had stopped herself from speaking, "Don't worry my dear, I'll have this all cleaned up for you in no time. You can collect the girl for your research, she looks exhausted. The men will be shot on sight."

Helen turned to Jim, her tone mixed a rare defiance with a healthy dose of pleading, "NO!! I need them alive. I need her to cooperate, so those two are crucial. She seems attached to them, to say the least. That's what I mean!"

Jim smiled at her knowingly, a smile that made even her break out in a slight sweat. She wasn't sure if it was inspired by knowledge or ignorance, but it certainly disturbed her.

A moment of silence followed, soon broken by the blaring of a rare alarm and the dimming of the lights. The screen that once displayed the battle switched to split screens of the security system. Delant picked a CS2 submachine gun from a section in the liquor cabnet, and locked in a clip. Then he pulled a vest out of a bottom compartment in his desk and placed it over his dress shirt. A crowd control helmet went over his hair, he buckled it down and put on the visor. The visual interface allowed him to see heat signatures through walls and could be switched on and off by blinking patterns. A notice flicked upon the screen of his desk. This was a code red, a hostile takeover, from what he could read a full-scale rebellion but from who he didn't know yet. Gunshots echoed throughout the corridors.

"What's going on!? Helen asked.

"I'm not sure, best to be prepared. To the panic room my dear, if you value your life. I'm not leaving my loyal men to be killed by this scum."

Helen bowed politely to depart for the panic room. As she left, a picture flashed upon the screen. A man with deep scars running laterally across his face laughed. The screen only showed him from the torso up. A CS2 rested against his shoulder. He smiled happily, seemingly pleased with himself.

"We've already overtaken communications, food production, and the wall defenses, your forces are splintered and demoralized. The directive you've sent has been rejected. We have the support of the board and your father. You've one hour to tell your guards to standdown."

A few simple shots lit up thescreen in a display of sparks and broken glass. Jim shifted his visor down and left his office.

-----

A sweaty hand sliding across a steel panel left a trail of moisture that quickly evaporated. The hot and heavy air clung to his lips like a soaked rag. Sweat filled the gaps in Jim's armor as it soaked his clothes. He activated the heat sensors on his visor but everything around him lit brightly so he deactivated them. Footsteps echoed; Jim froze in place with his back against the hot wall. He lifted the submachine gun against his chest while taking soft, willowy, steps as he rounded the corner. A dim red light flickered from an open hatch.

"They've cut off communications," came a hushed voice, "Unless our dispatch comes back, I don't even know what's going on. The best I can do is hold this position and the halls nearby. We have to keep Acting President Delant safe; they want him alive. Damn it's hot, they must have tampered with the climate control."

Delant aimed his gun at the speaker. One of the officers was Colonel Jennings, he wiped some sweat off his forehead with the collar of his shirt. Delant relaxed his aim but kept the weapon in hand as he took a deep breath.

"What's left?" Delant asked.

Colonel Jennings shook slightly as he saluted his commander, "Sir, did you hear us? You should stay in your office, panic room, that's the safest place."

"Stay in my office so I can wait to be arrested by a bunch of damned traitors! Who's loyal, what's left?"

Colonel Jenkins stiffened his back, "We have control of the top twenty floors of the central tower."

"That's it, what about the rest of the base? The entire rest of the base!"

The Colonel gulped, "We're under siege sir. Our units outside the tower are isolated beyond my ability to contact them. It's likely some have become hostile. The council broke communication as well. Word is that your own father has condemned your directive."

"He's a living corpse, he can't condemn anything!" Delant spit, "That settles it, I'm authorizing option D. Come to the control room, we're going to make them pay."

"Sir, perhaps you can negotiate a settlement? There are still enough loyal guards for this situation to be resolved in your favor. There's no need to-"

The gun went upwards and pressed intothe officer's chest, "That is an order, are you betraying me?! Are you going to hand me over to the tribunal!?"

The colonel waved his hands in the air, "Sir, you need to calm down, you're not thinking ra-!"

A shot rang through the room. The bullet passed through Jenning's heart before slamming into the wall. The other officer hit the floor next under a hail of lead from Delant's submachine gun. Delant kicked the bodies, multiple times, then knelt over them to rip off their ID tags.

"You pledged to die for me. Job well done."

Delant activated the feed to tower intercoms, "This is President Delant. I'm alive and well. Colonel Jenson and officer Petrel attempted to arrest me on behalf of the enemies of humanity. They have been executed for treason. Anyone caught negotiating with rebel forces or disobeying orders will be executed. Anyone surrendering further ground is to be shot on sight. This tower is of the utmost importance. The enemy will not allow it to be destroyed. I need the bravest, most ambitious member of the guard to report to my office. Now!"

The intercom clicked.