Blinking lights and flashing signs lured in the weak willed and distracted them from the ever climbing numbers and the increasing futility of dreams of fortune. Dice that clattered and jumped across blackjack tables in rhythm to the rings and dings of slot machines that struck cherry, lemon or ace to seduce the mass' temptation. A place of spicy urges and bankrupt expressions, set in it's routine of trick, soothe, cheat and repeat. All seemed right on the floor as chips were traded between dealers and suckers, but overhead, a shadow swam between flashy lights and signs with style and grace.

"Move!", "Clear the way"; men in suits with dark glasses and ear buds shifted through the crowds. Disrupting those who strained to count the cards and watch the dice, they looked and searched the ceiling, trying to locate the suspect. As they searched the shadows above, a lone shape seemed to hover in the very center of the room on a light that didn't even sway at the sudden weight.

A tall top hat and narrow shoulders outlined against the bluish moon, a rangy body glowing in a brilliant scarlet shoulder jacket with a black waistcoat and ivory cravat, was further illuminated by the garish machines below. His face, smooth and hard as glass, with nothing more than brilliant orange flames outlining his cocky grin; in his long fingers, a silver case was held securely under arm. He watched the men below him as slender flame spread across the lower section of his face in a grin. He turned and leapt.

"Good, now get running!" A boyish voice advised in his head.

"This is our only chance!" A voice with a more believable masculinity also told him from an unknown location.

"Stay calm! You can get away now!" A girl's voice echoed with a small touch of panic.

"We'll retrieve the briefcase on our end." Another female voice, calmer and commanding verified.

The thief could hear static far away, and he briefly felt a sensation that could be compared to a scratchy buzz behind his face. He heard far away voices that he didn't recognize.

"Hm?" The once anxious voice from before noticed. "What was that?"

"Don't worry about us! Just concentrate on getting away." The boyish voice encouraged him.

The thief hurried across the stands and the fixtures of the lamps nimbly, his heels leaping from perch to perch with little more than small clicks against the surfaces.

As he ran across the room from above, the conversations continued in his head. "But I have to say, showing yourself above that crowd earlier was an excellent move." The voice bragged about the thief's finesse. "Nice work as always, noble leader!" (A/N below)

A small giggle was heard. "I bet Skull wouldn't pull it off that smoothly."

The thief cleared obstacle after obstacle, until he saw a dark figure in a suit on the balcony ahead.

"There he is!" The agent pointed in his direction.

"Just run! Get out of there!" One of the girls voices shouted.

"Ok, the enemies focus is on him. Looks like the rest of us can slip away."

He leaped from row to fluorescent row on his new path.

"Everyone remember where we're meeting up?" He listened to the words in his head as he jumped onto the platform above.

He ran to the stairs ahead of him, keeping his eyes on the doors at their top, only for two guards to cut him off. They shouted at him to stop and began to shift, their faces turning into strange, shovelhead shaped masks. Intimidating, but crude looking in comparison to his own.

He turned and saw another guard, just as distorted behind him.

One of the voices sounded in his head again. "Take 'em down, Big Guy!" The flames on one corner of his face flicked into an elegant, yet undignified smirk; his agility placed him in a guard's back and with pull of his long fingers, the mask came flying off and the guard stumbled as the thief left his proximity.

It groaned from deep in its throat and exploded into burgundy goop and in it's place, a massive bull-headed creature snarled at him.

His own body changed, his fingertips lengthened into metal claws, his face burned warmer and hotter and beautifully carved knives sprung from his heels.

He held his claws at the ready. "Examining power levels… No threat. Get 'em!"

He rose his hand and felt a strong, malicious power building, he pounded the ground and red ribbons congregated around the bovid monster, making way for a ghoulish black face made of smoke to erupt from the ground. The beast recoiled from the effective attack. It snorted and threw its head with a bellow. His feet suddenly began to burn and a column of fire erupted from underneath him. He grunted in surprise, but this cow would need to do better than that! He twirled on one foot and swung his heel, slicing with the blade there. The beast lowered its head with exhaustion, but it wasn't done.

"Everyone else, head to positions! Use route B!"

The beast once again let out a fierce growl, but he was ready this time. Right when his feet got hottest, he stepped to the side, leaving the fire to engulf nothing. Having finally had enough with this distraction, he reaching into his coat pocket and pulled out an ornate semiautomatic handgun and shot a single bullet.

The beast fizzled away with a black splash and shout of pain. "Good, you defeated them with ease." The voices once again praised him.

"More of them!? Be careful!" He wanted to assure her, but more guards suddenly materialized in front of him. He dodged the clumsy lunge from the first one and as it stumbled, he hopped on it's back and with a flourishing backflip, landed on an upper platform.

He leaped backwards again and found himself on a higher balcony.

"Behind you! Through that door!" He turned and sprinted the way she yelled. "Hurry! You should be able to get out through there!" "Dude, can he even hear us!?" A vulgar, rough voice yelled a bit too loudly. "Don't worry, I'm picking up everyone's voices. Just go!" He didn't stop to think about exactly where he was going, he just kept forward; he still heard his assistants shouting out what was happening.

The sound of someone sucking their teeth in frustration was heard. "Tch! We got away from a bunch of those guys in black, but there're still loads more of 'em…" He threw his weight against the double doors in his way and after a quick look to the left to see a locked gate with men on the other side; he quickly turned to the right. He opened the second door and saw a man running through a hallway separated from him by glass.

"Dammit! Where'd he go!" The Agent swore. "I can't confirm the intruder's location." He said into his radio as he ran down the hall. The thief hid behind a corner for a few seconds and continued.

"Huh?" He froze at the exclamation. "Up ahead! Stop!" His expression morphed into one of surprise as he saw a guard straight ahead. He flew to the side, squeezing his limbs into a surprisingly small space behind a crate. "This is bad! You'll never make it out if you keep fighting!" He couldn't help but feel like that was somewhat obvious… "Hide in the shadows and sneak past when you see an opening!"

Moving on instinct alone, he darted from box to box until he was right next to the guard, his body little more than a shadow slinking across the floor. "Hey, are you sure they came this way?" The guard asked his intercom nervously. "Understood, I will continue the search!" He stated firmly and ran off down the path, right past the thief.

"Now's your chance! Run for the stairs!"

He wasted no time! He ran up the stairs and after a quick peek around the corner, ran to the edge of the window looking into the security room. Right before darting by, he heard one of the men giving the command to find and kill him and his companions. He needed to get out and fast! He tried to pace himself up the stairs, fearing a misstep that would allow the men he could hear below him on the lower flights to catch him. He got to the top and turned down the hall. Within seconds he had breached the door and as he leaned over the rails, he saw only wide-open space between him and the window leading outside, wide-open space and a sheer drop into a dining area.

"Is something wrong?" His navigator asked him. "The exit should be up ahead."

"Through there…" his smooth and mature voice asked for confirmation. His Navigator explained to him that this was just something he'd have work around. "After all that commotion, the bottom floor is completely closed off…" She sounded a bit regretful. "Hey, can you make it?" He looked to the side of the room and eyed the framework, feeling his grin growing ever wider.

"Over there!" He turned around at the gruff voice down the hall. They held their guns up, point in his direction and in the perfect position to fire. "There's nowhere left to run!"

He tilted his head at them inquisitively. "Hmm…" He leapt onto the railing and by the time the guards had exited the hallway and gotten to where he had been standing mere seconds ago, he was halfway across the room, running across the decorative moldings of the ballroom. He jumped across the final corner to the wall nearest to the stained glass window as partygoers below gasped at the scene happening above them. He stood tall and well balanced and bowed with a haughty flourish.

"I bid you, farewell!" He called out and he turned and threw himself through the window. He rolled so his chest faced the ground and black-feathered wings burst from his lower back, carrying him through the diamond shards of broken glass. As he sailed forwards on graceful and powerful wings, he could hear in his head, "What a showoff. You're so reckless, you know that?"

He hovered in midair, the joints of his wings popping with a slight twinge of pain every couple of seconds. But below him, blinding spotlights glared upwards, illuminating his thin frame and dark appearance. He covered his face, the light immediately placing all eyes on him and cutting any hope of escape down by half!

"Enemies here too!?" "What's happening?!" "These readings, there off the chart!" They were all shouting at once, they were starting to panic.

The flames on his face swayed with no special or specific emotion, but he calmly began to block the voices in his head. He stared down at the crowd as they slowly tuned out of his hearing.

"An…-mbush!?" "A-….can you handle this?!" "…An-" "Ars-!"

He did not want them to hear what he knew was about to happen.

"Shoot, dammit! Shoot!"

He flew upwards, rolling back and forth to avoid the bullets whizzing past him. Men, formerly hidden on the neighboring buildings shot gas canisters at him; he dodged them with ease, but he could feel his mind beginning to float away from him! He needed to escape! He could not be captured here!

He flew higher, hoping that if he could escape immediate line of sight, they wouldn't fire at what they could not see. But whirring blades that very nearly sliced his body in half cut him off. Blinded by the mounted light on the helicopters anterior, he was unprepared for the net that wrapped around his body and tangled his wings together. He plummeted towards earth and landed with a heavy, painful impact. They swarmed him within minutes; heavy cables wound around his wings, wrists, ankles and neck and were pulled taunt until he could no longer move and was left to only stare into the faces of the men who bound him. Unable to struggle without tearing his limbs from his body, he became disoriented by the thousands of voices and frantic movement around his head.

"What is it?!" "Doesn't matter! It fits the description we were given. Take it out!"

He looked into the barrel of the gun hovering inches in front of his face. He immediately knew it would not kill him, but he guessed that it would knock him out and be quite painful…

He was right as usual.

His arms were shackled to the wall above his head, his legs bound to a single metal bar and his wings painfully twisted and chained together behind his back.

His head slumped down towards his cravat, no longer white, but now stained with mud, grime and spit. Prints from the toes of heavy-duty boots dotted his abdomen where they had kicked him over and over again. The floor was dotted with black feathers; either plucked, broken off or shed in the struggle. He was not conscious; he had passed out after the third round with the cattle prod.

"Guess we got a little too eager." One of the men remarked. The other picked up a bucket of cold water and hurled the contents towards the captive's head. His dark face; cracked on one side from the impact of the bullet; began to regain some color. It began to brighten slightly and an orangey outline of eyes and teeth began to glow dimly. He struggled to lift his head, but when he did, he felt the urge to fall asleep again; this time, from disinterest instead of exhaustion. He was already made to be at their mercy, bodily; he had to be there mentally too?

"Hey!" The creature only responded when he heard the prod begin to crackle. "No falling asleep." He looked around as the room became clearer; the flames on his face become more aggressive as he glared at them to leave him alone.

"You just don't get it, do ya?" The man in front said arrogantly as he swaggered forwards. "Just give up!" A metal pipe was swung and it hit his face with a resounding ring. The guard pulled on a chain that had been lying seemingly useless on the floor, but the moment he did, pain exploded in the creatures back as his injured, damaged wings were tugged on roughly. He grunted in pain and very nearly let slip what sounded like the beginnings of a roar. The flames on his face glowed dimly and he reluctantly attempted to focus.

"Come on, cooperate. Or do you want another go with the prod?" One flame on his face shifted towards the ceiling of the room. "Huh, the camera?" The guard looked over without letting go of the chain. He then tugged with particular cruelty as he stood on his tiptoes to look in his prisoners face. "You thinking it can be used as evidence?"

No, it wouldn't and he knew, but he didn't say anything. "Heh, don't you worry. The things were doing to you are human rights violations. And obviously," he tugged playfully on the chain. "you ain't human." He walked towards his partner and took the clipboard. "Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons…manslaughter too?" He pointed towards the helpless creature in mock impression. "To think, all this was being pulled off by a monster like you."

The flames on the black glass began to curve upwards. He wasn't certain what was happening, his head was aching and pain bloomed all over his body. But he felt happy…he felt happy that he had done those things. Not the last one, but the others, for some reason brought him joy and contentment.

"Well, we made the charges for a human to go to jail, but something tells me we're going have a lot more fun with you." He said ominously.

Let them try to break him…he'd been through worse…

A knock on the door interrupted this little test of masculinity. A tall woman, dressed in dark clothes with beautiful silver hair entered the room. She was incredibly attractive, but her face showed no patience for anyone who commented on her looks. The men attempted to strong arm her out, claiming that this was no longer a crime that required an attorney or prosecutor. This was no human, ergo; no trial would held for the monster. It would be going to a lab, were it could be cut up and studied. Then it would be tossed into the trash, once they were done.

"In case you were not made aware, the suspect is capable of several abilities that we are still in the process of figuring out. For all we know, that "thing" as you so insensitively call it, could very well be nothing more than a suit or a mechanical decoy! So I would greatly appreciate it if you would allow me to do the job I was assigned." She left no room for argument, even if what she said was somewhat strange. Any attempt to fight was quickly abolished and as soon as the men reluctantly and fearfully undid the bindings and left, she sat down across from the only other occupant in the room, who looked as if he was quite close to blacking out.

"Can you speak to me?" It took a few seconds, but he nodded his head heavily. She looked down and saw the feathers and after peering around the table, she saw his wings hanging limply with missing primaries.

"Those bastards…" She looked at him with slight regret, "I never thought that…it would be you, or that you'd look like this of all things…" He felt inclined to reassure, but he was so tired… He tapped on the table with his spindly and somehow unbroken fingers.

"Listen," She commanded. "Those men out there are going to haul you away to god knows where, unless you talk to me. If they do that, then it's out of my hands." She looked very frustrated. "What was the point of this? Why did you cause a major incident?" She leaned on the desk, discomfort showing on her face at her next question.

"What does this have to do with the boy from the assault case?"

That question acted as smelling salts for his disorientation. The fire in his mask immediately ceased its needless movement, he looked straight at her and his face showed that he was fully there and ready whatever she said next.

She avoided looking him in the face and saw the clipboard on the floor. She leaned down and picked it up. She skimmed its pages and then furrowed her delicately arched brow. "They didn't have you sign this?"

He shook his head.

She looked contemplative for a moment and placed it on the table in front of him. "Sign your name."

He hesitantly grabbed the pen and thought; did he have a name to put down? "Not the name you gave me before." He looked at her questioningly, the pen very small in his grasp. "Put down your true name, the one she mentioned in her notes…" She said tiredly.

He thought and truly tried to recall…and then he remembered. He signed…

X Arsène X

"Good," She praised gently." Now I need to ask, how is it possible for you to steal someone's heart?"

He held his head in his hands; where was he? What had he been doing? Why had he been doing it? Who was he? What was he? These questions were things he should have known, but he felt like they slipping away… As he tried to think of where to begin and with what, he leaned back in his chair and suddenly felt a strange tickle behind his mask. A glancing sensation, like someone was touching him and retreating back every few seconds. He thought of yellow eyes, of prison cells and a figure that seemed familiar and yet, didn't.

Those thoughts were wrapped in an ethereal blue, in a mist that emanating from the tiniest of sources. He watched as the small fluttering creature floated in front of him, sparkling in a way that he knew was not normal for this world. He listened to the wing beats and he heard her…

"…you are held captive." It floated from his sight. "A prisoner of fate to a future that has been sealed in advance." He wondered… "This is truly an unjust game…your chances of winning are almost none." He felt no anxiety as he lost sight of it. He knew that it was still there. "But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you…I beg you. Please overcome this game and save the world. The key to victory lies within your bonds-the truth that you, your friends and your master have grasped." The butterfly landed on his crooked finger softly, it's wings moving as though cradled in the gentlest breeze.

"You have been a player in this game for sometime now, but it did not truly start until half a year ago. For the sake of this world…and your own…please remember…"