Isles stood before a defeated Ture. Her powerful form clad in polished armor as exhaust pipes stemmed from her elbows and knees that spewed with a dense, cold haze. Her ears peeked out from a pair of accommodating slits atop of her angular helmet, a helmet that completely veiled her face except for two small holes that allowed for her ghastly eyes to be seen.

Long nails were lodged deep within her torso and shoulders. Her blood, dyed a sickly blue, seeped through the crevices of the plated metal. She stepped toward the fallen Astral with a gait that exuded with her murderous intent. Her footfalls heavy with the weight of her armor, her exhaustion, and her frustration.

Vox, who was cradled desperately by Strafe, peered out from underneath her mother's arms to look at Isles encroaching on their shared aggressor. The two were cowering behind the counter of a kiosk that once belonged to a small jeweler, her digital eyes looking on with anticipation of what was to come. She was the daughter of Razel, a woman who was no stranger to violence, and she was no stranger being the audience to her mother.

Strafe turned her daughter away from Isles, her arms enveloping around the larger, metallic head that rested upon her breast. "Please don't look..." she uttered, her voice trembling as her embrace tightened, "you don't need to look, Vox..."

Her hazel eyes were trained on the moss-carpeted ground beneath them. Her pupils shrunken and quivering with the fear that rumbled throughout her body in relentless waves. Waves that drowned out her breath. Waves that crashed against her mind. Waves that swallowed her scarred heart, threatening to expose it to the horrors that she believed would remain in her past.

"I never did think I'd have to come across the Big Bad Wolf that's been making rounds across the Undermarket," a masculine voice spoke through the haze of icy mist, dust, and ash. The sounds of combat that echoed throughout the corridors of the mall lessened in their intensity once this confident voice made itself known. His presence demanding attention.

"But, I do have to thank you for taking care of my 'beneficiary'. Sharing my Miracle for the past couple of years has left me missing that...surge," the voice trilled as jolts of neon-yellow electricity that coursed through his body highlighted his silhouette through the haze. A silhouette that portrayed the visage of a man with spiked protrusions trailing from his shoulders, down along his back, and ending on the fins of his shark tail that dragged along the floor. The sound of clanging metal accompanying his intimidating footfalls.

Streams of Radiance dyed in an emerald sheen left Ture's fading body and was funneled towards the shadowed man in the haze. As the Radiance encroached his being, the colorization transitioned that to a yellow hue as it was assimilated into his body. With this newfound power, the luster of the crackling electricity brightened exponentially. His form now fully visible.

Standing a ways across from the armored Isles was a man that boasted a fit and toned physique displayed proudly by the lack of clothing covering his fair-skinned body. A wicked scar spanned diagonally across from his right pectoral down to his abdomen. He wore a pair of black, baggy pants that had the Tiger's Guard emblem emblazoned along the width of the right pant-sleeve. The sleeves of which tucking into a pair of bulky boots with heavy, iron soles.

Isles noted the nails of varying sizes that were lodged into the man's body that acted as localized points for his electricity to discharge and arc from. His wild, hazel eyes complimented the shoulder-length, blonde hair that blanketed his head as small stripes can be seen on his cheek. Much like Strafe's own.

"What do you want, Frankie," she asked bluntly, her gauntlet-clad hand grabbing hold of one of the nails that pierced her stomach. She knew who this man was. Razel had filled her in on a description that matched perfectly of the Radiant standing before her. Razel had hoped that they had would not run into the Tiger's Guard Company during the expedition, let alone their Executor:

The Grade 1 Proxy, Frankie Cedeño.

"It's less of what I want and more of what I'm going to do with you, Wolf. You always seemed so content lurking around the Corriente Undermarkets like the phantom you are, so why are you up here of all places?" he asked eagerly, but his underlying tone made it sound rhetorical as if he already knew the answer.

Isles watched as Frankie took a step closer. Her hand prying free the nail she grasped as blood spewed from the gnarled wound. "Then what's the issue? You go about your business, and I mine," she remarked as a low growl rumbled with her bitter words. She made sure to stand defiant against this looming threat and to not look back. She could not risk giving away where Vox and Strafe hid.

"I know you were with Razel, and I know my sister was with you two before you entered the mall," he retorted as electricity arced from the nails in his body with his flaring anger. "So, where is she. All I want is my beloved sister back, do you understand? I'd pull out from this rank city and the contract I signed my Company too if it meant being able to return home with her. Nothing else matters but her being by my side, is it really that complicated?"

His voice, laced with a deeply-seeded longing, shook Strafe to her core. The grip she had on Vox, the one that was supposed to comfort her daughter, quickly turned into a desperate cling. Clinging onto someone, anyone, and to never let go if it meant avoiding returning to any semblance of a home with that deluded and wretched man.

Isles listened to Frankie's explanation with a mocking smile, a smile hidden by her helmet. "Sounds obsessive. She doesn't want to be with you. Nothing will be gained from this obsession."

"I will have my sister back, and with her, a secured heir to the Company. I refuse to let the Tiger's Guard be led by anyone other than a Cedeño, and she's the only blood I have," Frankie scowled as he continued his domineering gait towards Isles. "Give her up, Wolf."

"If it's a kid you want, then go make one. Not my problem you're undesirable. Nor is it her fault that you're untrusting of your own Company," Isles laughed grimly, pulling free another nail and letting it clatter against the cracked, ceramic tiles underneath.

"You made your choice, then? Let it be known that you could've walked out of this city alive. But, if you want to die in this forgotten graveyard then I'll be more than willing to be the mortician for your solitary funeral," Frankie cracked his neck as he wore a stoic expression. An expression that betrayed his internal wrath. "Although, it wouldn't be so lonesome. I'll lump Razel's corpse in with yours once she comes screaming. She always does."

Isles readied herself, expecting Frankie to blitz her. But, she was left puzzled when her body began to float. Her armor sparked with electricity as she found herself being pulled in towards Frankie as if he were a large magnet attracting a small metal object. She saw as the Radiant postured himself to strike, and so she turtled up. A thick coating of ice formed around her forearms that then went to shield her wounded stomach.

"Crush!!!" Frankie roared with a savage grin as he fired off a kick towards Isles' left, unprotected flank. His leg, coated in Radiance that plated his shin as if it were armor itself, devastated her. The strike itself had enough power to cave in the steel layers of her chest-plate, but the Radiance that had sheathed his leg had a piercing effect that punched right for her body. As if her armor was a mere after-thought.

Frankie carried his leg through its sweeping motion, sending Isles rocketing towards a concrete wall that made up the expansive corridor of the mall. Blood seeped through the small breathing holes of her visor as she tried to stand, but found her muscles aching. Spasming from the violent shocks of electricity that rocked her body.

He walked towards her with an unapologetic smile, one that portrayed his violent and merciless bloodthirst. "Done after one kick? You must be one of those lower ranking monkeys, and here I was hoping you'd pull some sort of trick especially with how mysterious and elusive you've been."

He then leveled the bottom of his iron-clad boot with her visor, watching in delight as her fading eyes raised to look up at his manic expression. "Guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up," he said before viciously stomping down, slamming her head back against the wall. But he continued. Relentless in his assault as each successive stomp caved in her helmet as the wall crumbled around her battered skull.

During this, Vox had looked up to Strafe as she silently placed a bracelet that had a crescent moon dangling off of it. A bracelet that she and Razel had created that was a part of a trio. A token of their unity.

Breathlessly, Strafe mouthed the words 'Don't do it' to Vox who stood up valiantly before her. Someone had to protect Strafe now that it was just the two of them. And so, she resolved to leave the kiosk to confront the ferocious man. All the while Strafe watched her daughter leave her side, tears streaming down her cheeks as she bit down on the collar of her jacket to stifle her urge to wail her agony.

"STOP!!!" A digitized voice blared out with such intensity, it stopped Frankie and his crazed brutality for a moment.

He turned away from Isles' motionless, bludgeoned body to face the short robot. Seeing Vox made his wrath turn into pure joy at the drop of a hat. For he knew if this mechanical imposter of an Astral was present, so was its 'mother'. "If it isn't the little project that Strafe has been coddling alongside that rodent of a woman. Be a good machine and show me where your so-called mom is."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"No," Vox replied defiantly, her LED visor depicting large eyes that narrowed furiously, "and even if I did you're just going to hurt her!"

Hearing Vox deny his mercy infuriated him to no end. "I knew I shouldn't have let Strafe bring you in from the scrapyard she dug you up from. Machines and tools should do as they are told, this is why the likes of you will never be accepted in our world. Sentient robots are too smart for their own good, but in this case, too stupid."

The words Frankie spat resonated within Vox's artificial mind, but she did not let the resentful man have his way. She is the last line of defense between Strafe and Frankie. She cannot falter here. "So what if the world doesn't want to accept me? I know I was deemed illegal and many models like me were marked to be scrapped and destroyed. But at least I have two people that love and cherish me for what I am!!!"

Vox's words assaulted his ears, but they also reached the ears of Strafe who stayed curled up in the little corner of her kiosk. Razel would have been proud of the little lady two had raised together if she were here to witness their daughter's courage.

"You little piece of shit..." he muttered, his very breath laced with his fury. He kicked up one of the nails that Isles had pulled free from her body, gripping it firmly in his hand and walked toward the robot. "When I'm through with you there's going to be nothing left for Strafe to repair."

Now being the target of Frankie's onslaught, Vox turned to run as far away from the kiosk as she could, hoping to divert him away from Strafe.

Seeing the robot run, Frankie effortlessly threw the enlarged nail as if it were a dart. The thrown nail then pierced her left leg, penetrating it to the tiled flooring as she came to an abrupt halt in her sprint that made her trip face first.

She felt Frankie's weight fall atop of her, his knee pinned firmly against her metallic back. "Get off!" she screamed, flailing her limbs around in vain attempts to shake him off.

"Let's see just how durable you are, for a machine built from junk..." his voice trailed grimly as he grabbed hold of her wrists and pulled back on her arms towards him, "I'm not expecting much."

For this torturous moment, Vox was blessed with being a machine incapable of feeling physical pain. But the psychological torment she felt was excruciating, a personal hell she did not think existed for her as she was helpless to Frankie tearing apart her limbs. Ripping them from her chassis slowly. Mercilessly. Her metal body naught but a toy to this twisted man.

The internal wiring spilled free from the broken off arms, spewing out from her sparking body like the artificial sinew they were. Next were the legs. Prying them off one by one as he grinned upon hearing Vox's digitized screams. Screams that echoed down the empty corridors of a once lively mall.

"Please...stop..." Strafe whispered through her strained breath, her arms desperately clutching onto herself. Her body curled up into a tight, defenseless ball of a defeated woman. "Frankie, please, stop..."

But he continued. His hand palming the top of Vox's head as the other grabbed her by the shoulders. With her skull being separated by her body, only one thought crossed her virtual mind:

'I hope she's proud of me. I'll always be what I am, for you, mom.'

And then, with the last of the wires connecting her head to her body being ripped apart, her world went dark. Status: offline.

Silence befell the corridor. A tense, suffocating silence that yearned for Strafe to break, yearning for her to so much as to breathe to give away her position. The footfalls of iron-clad boots rang through the concrete walls as a heavy shark's tail dragged across the floor.

"Don't you think this has been enough?"

"Don't you just want this to end?"

"Don't you want to come home?"

His mocking words assaulted her mind, forcing her to block out her ears with her hands. But the words seeped through no matter how hard she tried. Her instincts were screaming for her to run, but her broken mind demanded she remained where she laid.

'Frankie, how many lives would it take to stop you?'

'Frankie, how much longer do I have to live?'

'Frankie, how haven't you stopped yet?'

She felt the low, resounding vibrations of his encroaching footfalls. Each step sending a wave of panic throughout her trembling body. A hand gripped at the edge of the dirtied and broken display case as his electrified, hazel eyes peered over the ledge.

'Frankie, please, just stop...'

'Just, stop...'

"FRANKIE!!!"

This sudden shout that roared from the depths of the corridor behind him made him scowl ferociously, for he knew who bellowed out his name.

"Razel..." he cursed lowly, whipping his body around to stare down the yo-yo that was sent rocketing for him. He raised a Radiance-clad forearm to intercept the attack, and as the yo-yo struck his arm that he had full confidence in, he staggered.

The density of the yo-yo he perceived to be a mere toy caught him by surprise, and even further still as he witnessed the yo-yo wrap itself around his forearm with prismatic string. "A string Miracle?" he questioned as he tried to pull on his bound arm, but was met with heavy resistance from the one that had him entangled.

Without missing a beat, Razel blitzed down Frankie with her nodachi shouldered. Her silver eyes, glinting with her consuming hatred, were made visible as the rushing winds swept aside the bangs that kept them permanently veiled. Her eyes were trained for the scar that streaked across his abdomen. The scar she left him four years ago.

And she planned to strike true once more.

"Haha!!! Yes! Let's pump up the amperage and let the current run wild!!! For this is MY Miracle, Miracle of Rising Voltage!" with his empowering incantation, the nails embedded with his body surged with violent bolts of neon-yellow electricity. Electricity that made the nails glow with the same hue as black inscriptions were made visible. These engravings covered every possible square inch of each individual nail, written in detail that portrayed of one's reverence to the object of his obsession:

Power.

His overcharged body reeled back his bound arm, pulling in the thing that had kept him anchored towards him as Cass's body was made visible. And he was being pulled in at breakneck pace.

But Razel did not let Frankie's empowered state intimidate her. She swung her wicked blade downward once she closed the distance enough to make a viable cut. Aiming for his right shoulder in hopes of leaving a debilitating cut across his torso.

With his heightened reflexes, Frankie caught the nodachi with a Radiance-clad hand. A feat that even stunned Razel despite her blinded rage. And with a simple clench of his hand, he snapped the monstrous blade in half. Shattering the manifestation of her wrath.

Her spirit, however, refused to be shattered.

She converted the momentum of her failed cut into a thrust fueled by all of the might her exhausted body was able to provide and then some. She stabbed the jagged end of her broken blade into him, stabbing into his stomach that was reinforced with his Radiance that protected from her piercing strike.

"Just die!!!" Razel commanded fiercely as she helplessly continued to drive her sword into him, but she was quickly knocked down onto the ground by a fist that slammed against her right temple.

And then there was Cass. He watched as Razel's sword was effortlessly sundered by Frankie, but he could not give up now. He unsheathed Tizona from its scabbard and prepared himself to deliver a decisive blow once he came into striking distance.

Then, dread filled his mind the moment Tizona was bared free of its leather confines. A dread that made it clear of the gap of power between him and Frankie. A gap of not only power, but of will, and of experience.

And before he had a chance to process this gap, his face was enveloped by Frankie's hand, and the back of his head slammed against the ground. The intense shocks of electricity then fried his body as his glasses that were so lovingly repaired by Strafe cracked from the impact.

He went limp immediately after. His singed body spasming from the lingering shocks.

Razel, who was dazed from the blow to her skull, tried to pull her body up off of the ground, but was stopped by Frankie who straddled her. His electrified hands grabbed the sides of her head as she threw wild punches against his exposed gut, but he didn't flinch or care.

"I always hated these eyes of yours, Razel. These damned silver eyes that always looked at me with disgust and defiance," Frankie said with a euphoric smile, smiling down at the woman who's punches became less and less impactful with each thrown strike. The fatigue settling in. The inevitability taking hold.

"I think I'll gouge out your eyes first. There's so many parts of you that I want to break so that you can feel an ounce of the pain and anguish I've gone through these past four years."

Drip. Drop.

Miniscule droplets of water splashed onto Frankie's skin, water that he only believed to be Razel's frightened tears.

Pitter. Patter.

The droplets of water then became a steady shower. A stream that dampened both him and Razel. Now he was alert.

Crack. Boom.

A powerful bolt of lightning struck the kiosk behind him. The four display cases that made up the rectangular, petite store were turned into ash and rubble as a deluge of torrential rain swamped the corridor. Rain that was accompanied by screaming bolts of lightning and booming thunder as a pair of golden eyes glared down at Frankie who turned to stare back in bewilderment. Eyes that shone through the darkness the rainfall had brought on.

"Frankie," the voice belonging to the golden eyes called out, her words drowning in a lifetime's worth of torment, "I told you to stop."