WRATH

by Voldasluttygodmodmudamudamuda

Vol and Drake go with their friend Kohaku through a magical adventure! They talk at a table! Have a bar fight! And much more adventure!

WRATH

1

The sound of laughter and cheery singing filled the city bar named The Drunken Devil. Soldiers and civilians alike, filled the inside of the popular pub, binging themselves on beer and whiskey. Though, a few silent individuals sat at a table near the wall, they talked quietly amongst themselves, sounding like a murmur amidst the loud calling of other people. These individuals looked almost out of place, odd hues of colour shone out of their eyes, shades of emerald green, crystal blue, scarlet and crimson burned in their irises. Their hair was also odd, one had hair as black as night, another had bright crimson and the other had snowy white.

The male of average height with the swept back, crimson hair, kept an emerald eye on the door, as if he was waiting for someone. "Drake, is something wrong? You seem anxious." The tall, scarlet eyed male asked, brushing a black bang of his jaw length hair out of his face.

Drake diverted his attention to him and sighed. "Nothing, Vol… I'm just bored; there's been no action for a week now. I need some goddamn entertainment in this shithole." He complained, folding his arms across his chest, he was only wearing an open black leather jacket on his torso. The jacket had a grey, intricate design across the back, chest and arms. Metal spikes were on the shoulders of it, which were blunted. "Don't you even find it odd that there hasn't even been a sighting of a demon in the past week?"

"Indeed, it is worrying… But we mustn't get ahead of ourselves and assume the worst. We have to be optimistic in these times of turmoil." The other male mused; he raised a hand to his chin and rested his chin upon it. His hand was pale and slender, covered by a black leather glove. The paleness covering his hand seemed to continue down, covering his wrist then disappearing into the darkness within the sleeves of his coat. A dark sense of authority and power seemed to come off of him, like a thick aura. He was set deep in thought, almost detached from what was going on around him.

"Lord Vol is right, Drake. We need to remain positive." The ivory white haired female leant forward to gaze at the masculine red-head with her crystal blue oculars. An open black coat that draped down the seat past her light grey shorts and down to her ankles was on over her white vest. A sheathed katana was rested by her side, between herself and the tall raven-haired male.

A loud crash was heard as the wooden door of the pub was sent flying off its hinges towards the group. People were knocked over in its hurtling path, knocking people out and leaving small messes of blood. Drake leapt up from his seat in an instant and lunged at the flying door. He slammed his head into it and it exploded into splinters, a toothy smile occupied his face as he looked at the doorway. "Finally… Finally, some action!" He chuckled, standing up straight again, he was unharmed and unfazed by the impact. He held his left fist in his right palm and squeezed it, the distinct popping of knuckles were heard. "Come on! I know you're out there! Come on in and fight me!" He bellowed out at the door.

A man in a black, skin-tight battle suit of sorts stepped in, ducking under the top of the door to get in. He was well-built; his head was uncovered and bald. Blue lights lit up the joints that allowed movement in the suit. He only seemed to growl, his expression was one of rage and hate.

"Drake, let me handle this." Vol pushed the table out of the way and walked to Drake's side, Drake stopped him with and outstretched arm, he turned his head slightly to look at Vol from the corner of his eye.

"I can handle this just fine as it is. It'll take more than him to bring me down." He spoke with a cocky tone hovering in his voice. Vol stepped back to Kohaku and watched with his hands folded across his chest. The man roared and charged at Drake head-on, Drake only raised a leg up in the air, almost vertically. At the last moment, when the man was about to hit Drake, he brought his leg down, quick and hard.

There was a loud crack upon the impact of Drake's combat boot with the male's head, Drake continued down, forcing the man's head into the floor. His face slammed into the ground and beyond, cracking the floor and causing a deep depression. Drake continued to push, until the man's final roar was silenced when his head burst open like a watermelon. Blood and gore caked the surrounding area. Some blood spattered onto Drake's cheek, his face was distorted into a toothy grin that bordered insanity. He opened his mouth and extended his tongue out to his cheek, licking off the crimson liquid. "Told ya I could handle it…" He glanced back at the others, his grin quickly changing into a smirk to mask his bloodlust.

Vol took a few strides over and bent down, over the dead man in the battle-suit. "A G.O.T.S. Soldier? How? They're perfectly regimented and hardly given any time to screw around like this… And why did he go berserk…?" He muttered to himself, he turned his head to look at Drake. "Any idea why?" He asked, Drake responded with a simple shrug. But, something caught his eye, all of a sudden. He hunched over the male and pulled the neck part of the suit back slightly, revealing root-like, red, fleshy growths running up his neck and entering his spinal cord.

"Corruption." Drake muttered. "He was corrupted by a Wrath Hive… Poor bastard walked right into one, not knowing what was in store…" He stood back up. "We need to burn the body; I can't let this infection spread…" A rumble seemed to roll up his throat as he said that. His throat glowed a bright orange. He opened his mouth and the glow moved into the back of his mouth. Vol took a few steps back as a beam of fire jetted out of Drake's mouth, burning the body completely in only a few seconds. Within a minute, the body had turned to ash. "May the everlasting dragon fire, purify and harbour your tormented soul…" He muttered under his breath.

"H-He's a monster!" A man yelled out, pointing at him.

"Get him and kill him, I'm sure the government will pay well for him! A monster like that is bound to have a good bounty!" A soldier called out, pulling an assault rifle from under the table and pulling the slide back. He took aim, right at Drake's head. All of the other people of the bar pulled out a variety of firearms and weapons; they all closed in on Drake. Volcabularious returned behind the table and sat idly as the angry mob closed a circle around Drake.

A man charged head on at Drake with a baseball bat in hand, he swung at Drake's head, the wooden weapon exploded into splinters, which Drake swung a hand at, slapping them into the man's face. The man let out scream that was a mixture of both surprise and pain. Blood flowed out of his eyes, which splinters had stabbed, along with his cheeks.

Several others started to approach Volcabularious and Kohaku, who both had neutral expression. One of them raised a pistol at Volcabularious' head and fired, Vol flopped back from the impact, suddenly limp. A small stream of blood trailed down his face, down his nose and into his open mouth. Kohaku glanced at the man, then to Vol and then back to the man. "You shouldn't have done that." She plainly stated.

A circular metallic object popped out of the wound, which soon healed. Vol sat up properly against and sighed. He looked at the men and sighed again. "Hand me Yugure no Kisu… Would you kindly?" He reached an arm out towards Kohaku, who reached down and pulled out an enormous black nodachi in one hand, handing it to Volcabularious. Vol took it in both hands, one on the sheath, the other on the hilt, slowly sliding it out of the scabbard.

The men started to lower and drop their weapons, backing away and slightly whimpering. "My, my… That's not very honourable, running away from a fight you started." Volcabularious chuckled, placing the empty sheath next him and standing up. He was still holding the hilt in one hand as he walked around the table towards them. "Come on then, pick up your weapons and duel like a true man. I won't fight unfairly, you know." He ordered with a cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

One of the whimpering men picked up the bowie knife he dropped and lifted it slowly. "My, my… Who knows, you might do well against me. If you're skilled with it, that is." Vol chuckled darkly, swinging the blade across the floor, leaving a deep mark in the floor. The man charged at him with the knife in front of him, Vol tapped the blade out of the way, before spinning his blade almost impossibly fast. The man took a few steps forwards, before exploding into dozens of bloody pieces, each sliced cleanly with unique precision.

Vol charged at the others, dicing them into pieces, like a turkey on a silver platter. He held out his hand towards Kohaku, who chucked the sheath of his sword towards him. Volcabularious stepped out his stand at the moment he caught it, guiding the blade, from the guard to the tip, along his alternate hand then sliding it into the scabbard. Everyone seemed to back away from him in fear of meeting the same fate of those who had already fallen from his blade's cold kiss.

Drake on the other hand, had everyone coming right at him. Some people had knives, others had baseball bats and some even had firearms. He just seemed to manoeuvre out of the way of the melee weapons, weaving around the attacks and countering them with a quick jab, or even an uppercut-hook combo. He would even catch a pipe or a bat swung at him and counter it with a kick towards their side, launching them across the room. A tainted smile of pure insane glee was tugging at his lips; Drake looked as if he wanted to sing.

Machine gun fire rattled throughout the bar, one of the soldiers with an assault rifle decided to attack, with a clean line of fire towards Drake, distinct metallic clangs were heard when the bullets hit, Drake didn't even jolt from the hits, carrying on with his "fun". Finishing off another wave of people with a combination of kicks and punches, he just reacted to the soldiers by turning his head in their direction with a smirk. "Hello~" He cooed.

"Open fire, open fire, open fire!" One of them ordered, emptying their entire magazine at Drake. The singular machine gun fire was met with 6 others, Drake didn't seem to even jolt or shudder from the impacts of the rounds. He only walked leisurely and calmly towards them, his cloths tore apart and holes in his skin started to appear from the impact. Chest skin tore away to reveal a large belt buckle with a singular button. 6 belts were linked to this buckle; they stretched all over his torso.

Lifting a hand up to the shoulder of his leather jacket, Drake tugged off the tattered coat with ease, then the other hand to tear off his holey tank top. Revealing a bare chest that was incredibly well-built, like the rest of his body. His build was that of an average soldier. "Flama Ambulant." He phrased a spell, flames spat up in his hands, as he moved them into a position that would match holding a gun. The flames moved about, shaping a shotgun in his hands, before disappearing, revealing an SPAS-12. He pumped it once, loading a shell into the barrel. He lifted it up at a soldiers head, pulling the trigger with a loud, deafening bang. The male's head exploded into a red/pink mush, coating the window behind Drake's target in red.

Drake gave a quick pump, loading a new shell into the chamber and popping out the smoking empty one, then immediately released his stabilising grip on the pump and struck the next soldier – who was firing point-blank into Drake's temple – across the head with the barrel. The soldier fell backwards with a startled yelp, still firing at Drake from the ground, whilst screaming in fear. Drake mercilessly pointed the shotgun at the soldier's sternum – which was unprotected, due to the fact that the soldier was off duty – and pulled the trigger, more blood spattered onto Drake as a gaping hole was created in the torso of the doomed male.

"Drake, I think it's time that we took our leave!" Vol suggested, walking casually through the crowd that dispersed away from him as he ventured towards the door, his incredibly long samurai sword held tightly in the grip of his left hand. Kohaku followed him, a sheathed, regular length katana attached to her belt; she had a neutral expression on her face.

"Aw… So soon? I was about to get to the good part." Drake whined, slinging his weapon over his shoulder. The shotgun started to become engulfed in flames, which devoured the metal. Soon, the firearm was no more, and the fire suffocated. Drake brought his hands down and slid them into his black, torn up, cargo pants' pockets. He strolled towards the door as a wall of men began to block his way. Drake just seemed to push through effortlessly, like a professional rugby player barging through a wall of scrawny jockeys, only, Drake was walking.

Drake's upper body went up in flames, evaporating the blood up off of his belts/remaining skin. The skin started to regenerate and cover the belts again, just as his black leather jacket reformed over his torso, this time, without the tank top. Exiting out into the street Drake came face-to-face with a police officer, aiming a pistol directly into his face.

The uniformed police officer had a very serious expression on his face. Though, he looked anxious, stressed, scared. The pistol shook in his grip. "Get on the damn ground!" He ordered loudly.

"What happens if I don't?" Drake arched a brow almost as if he was making fun of the officer.

"I'll fire, I was to shoot to kill, and I'll do just that! Now, down on the ground, sir! I won't ask again!" The officer answered and ordered again, beads of sweat formed in his forehead, was he scared? Vol and Kohaku hung back behind Drake, Vol had a smirk on his face, and he didn't seem to worry. Kohaku had a neutral expression, as if she was tuned out from what was happening. Drake giggled, he ignored the officer's orders and walked right past him, his giggle developing into a snicker.

"You're wasting your time." Drake sighed, halting his laughter, continuing down the road. He waved nonchalantly to the officer. "Too-da-loo~." He chuckled again. The officer pulled the trigger multiple times, the echoes of gunfire rang out down the streets of the busy city that acted as a safe haven for all humans. Loud pings were heard when the bullets made contact with Drake. There were visible holes in Drake's jacket and skin, though the bullets were embedded about a centimetre into the skin. Drake seemed unfazed, almost as if he didn't feel the bullets hit him. "If you're going to go out of your way to shoot me like the soldiers, at least use something that works." He mocked, turning his head slightly so he could look at the man. He gave a very cocky smile, his abnormally large top and bottom canines showing themselves.

The officer's face distorted into fear and dismay. He fired at Drake until his magazine was empty, and continued to fire, with the clicks of an empty magazine only adding to his terror. The officer fell backwards once Drake started approaching him, obviously unharmed from the bullets. "Wh-What the hell are you?!" He whimpered, dropping his weapon and crawling away from the red head with the evil smile on his face.

"Drake! That's enough! I won't accept any more human fatalities. Not from you, nor the demons… Not from anything." Vol stepped in-between Drake and the officer. His height dwarfing the red head by a good foot.

"Make me." Drake tried to push Vol out of the way, but the obsidian haired male wouldn't budge.

"I said… That's enough." Vol growled aggressively. "You are far from superior to any other race. We are all equal… If you continue with this rampage, you will be just like the ones you were created to hunt. If that ever happens, I will not hesitate to kill you, that's my mercy I'm giving. You do know that the Red Circle will be not as kind."

Drake glared at Vol with his emerald hues, his pupils had changed into black reptilian slits, his green iris' bright colour had slightly faded, and so had the brightness of his crimson hair. Though it slowly returned and his pupils returned to their normal state. "Fine... I'm only doing this because these people are a waste of my strength. I need a real fight." Drake reluctantly stood down from his bloodlust. "There is that Wrath Hive… That demonic taint looked fresh; the hive can't be too far… I'm surprised I ha-" He was interrupted by a loud ringtone ringing out of his pocket. "There we go, that's probably them." He reached into it and pulled out an old looking Flip-phone. He hit the answer button and brought it to his ear. "Salve?" He spoke in Latin. There was the barely audible sound of someone speaking on the other end. "Cuius quidem odorem conprensus est. Et delebo eam statim." He answered. "Have." He ended the call. He kept the screen open and was typing something in, he watched the screen for a short time then closed it, throwing it into his pocket. "Red Circle's caught scent of it, took them long enough… I just received the GPS coordinates, just a few kilometres north of here. I'll deal with it myself. You guys should return to our makeshift H.Q. in Sapporo-Shi…" Drake ordered, turning to Vol with a smile "Get some rest… Also, Vol. Why in Japan? Why not here, in Australia?" He added.

Vol shrugged. "It's a place that brings back pleasant memories… When Demons didn't roam the Earth and Angels didn't threaten Earth with the Apocalypse. Everyone could live in peace… And magical beings didn't have the fear of being hunted, as no one was aware of their existence…" He told Drake. "But, humans developed Demon detecting technology when the war started… But it also detected once pacifistic, magical beings like us…" Vol sighed, his own shadow growing into a large circular shape that loomed under Kohaku and Vol. "Kohaku… Take a rest; I will prepare dinner for all of us, my treat." He glanced to the ivory haired female. Kohaku looked back at Vol and nodded once. "Yes, Lord Volcabularious." He obeyed as they began to sink into Vol's shadow, as if were a liquid. Dark Magicks were at work, turning Volcabularious' own shadow into a transportation portal.

Drake chuckled. "I wasn't born 50 years ago…. Unlike you... I was born to fight, I was made to fight, and I live to fight. That's all I care about." He reached into a jacket pocket and withdrew a carton of cigarettes. He shook it once, popping out one of the paper wrapped tobacco sticks. He blew a small streak of fire onto the white end, lighting it. He placed it in his mouth and puffed out a ring of smoke. He closed his eyes and grunted. Huge, black wings tore his clothes apart as they spread, a tail also unwrapped itself from his waist and fell down. They were covered in black scales, except for the flaps of Drake's wings. These features were Dragon-like, a symbol of millions of years of refining a race of Human/Dragon hybrids, named drakes, or draconians. Named after the now extinct lesser dragons.

Drake beat his wings strongly to create lift. Air buffeted everything around him, the officer who was on the floor was sent hurtling to the wall, and he was pinned there. Drake slowly started to hover above the ground, his vertical acceleration speed increased dramatically, soon getting above the surrounding skyscrapers and office buildings. He folded his arms across his chest, looking down at the people moving about the streets, seeming like ants from where he was. "Heh." He chuckled slightly, raising a hand and plucking the cigarette from his lips, releasing a plume of grey smoke from his mouth. With one, extremely powerful flap, he was forced through the sound barrier towards his objective, The Wrath Hive.

2

The wind was warm in the air of the Simpson Desert, red sand dunes looked like massive snake tracks and the odd sight of greenery was pleasant to Drake. He surveyed the area while in flight, swivelling his head slowly from horizon to horizon, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. "Wrath Hives are subterranean… No use trying to find one while up in the air." He thought to himself, he streamlined his body and brought his wings close to his body, closing them around his sides. He entered a deep swoop, only he was aiming for landing. He threw his legs out in front of him when he nearly made impact; sand was kicked up from the massive crater created upon Drake's crash-landing. Drake stood up slowly, before stretching his arms out and emitting a loud yawn. "I should get this thing over with, I'm getting tired." He wrapped his tail around his body again and folded his wings carefully around him. He stared directly at the sun for a five moments. "Too hot for a jacket in this weather…" He sighed. His entire chest went up in flames, which soon dissipated to reveal a black tank top with covered his wings and tail; it looked like they weren't there at all.

Drake unclipped the holster on his hip with his right hand, and pulled out a slightly modified, black M1911 pistol, he twirled it from its trigger on his index finger before catching it with his palm and wrapping his fingers around the grip. He held it idly while he reached down with his other hand and opened a small pouch on the alternate side of his hip. Reaching in, he pulled out a thin pistol magazine and loaded it into his weapon; a click indicated that it was all the way in. He disengaged the safety with his thumb, and then brought the slide to his mouth, pulling it back with his teeth. He twirled it once again with a very cocky smile tugging at his lips, revealing his large bottom and top canines. He extended his arm out to his side, a massive column of fire exploded out of the ground, engulfing his hand. Drake slowly withdrew his hand from the flames, and with it, a large Scottish Claymore. The column fell down into itself and died out. Drake slung the sword over his shoulder and onto his back. His wings slightly adjusted and gripped onto it, holding it in place. He released his grip on the hilt of the blade and marched up the side of the deep crater he had made upon impact with the sand. Some locks of his crimson hair on his fringe diverted from their swept back position and hung loosely over his face, though it didn't bother him.

Drake reached into his pocket and retrieved his flip phone, flicking the screen open with his thumb; he skimmed through multiple menus until he selected a compass. He turned in the direction of North, and then changed to the GPS. He zoomed out to see how far away he was from his target. "6km over massive sand dunes… No problem." He thought to himself and flicked the phone shut, tossing it into his pocket. He started to run towards his objective with a speed that would match most Olympic athletes, holding the pistol in his right hand, still. He kept his sight forward, on the next sand dune after another as he traversed their height with ease; he never faltered or diverged from his straight-forward path. His military combat boot supplying ample grip on the dry sand, his bloused, black denim cargo pants stopped sand from getting into them too. He was barely even panting, his breathing was fairly normal, as if he wasn't running at all.

Once over the fifty-second sand dune, a massive, fleshy mountain loomed in the distance, only a few kilometres away. It rose and fell, as if it was breathing. "Ho-ly shit." Drake exclaimed, his eyes were wide in astonishment. "It's massive! Why didn't the Red Circle pick this up earlier? It would've taken a century for one to get that big!" Drake continued, shocked at the sight of the massive demon hive. He pulled the flip phone out and flicked the screen open. He speed dialled a number and brought it to his ear. "Come on… Come on… Pick up the phone…" He muttered anxiously.

"Salve?" A voice answered in Latin.

"Dic mihi, Craig Lightwing, cur non indicas mihi de ira alveare antea?" Drake snapped into the speaker of the phone. "Scires circa hoc, diu ante vos notificaverit mihi eam praesentiae… Oh expectare, novi, antequam dixeratis mihi!" He ranted on, anger burning in his eyes.

"… Have."

"Culus! Non suspendat me!" Drake roared, as the phone when dead with a long tone sounding. He crushed the phone into a ball with ease, out of rage. He chucked the ball of plastic aside. "… No problem… This'll be easy." He sighed, almost as if he doubted himself.

He grunted, closing his eyes as if he was in pain. Veins bulged out on his arms, neck and face as loud cracking noises were heard, his crimson hair started to shift into a snow white colour. His veins soon went back down and he opened his eyes. The colour was gone from them; all that was left was a thin, reptilian pupil. It was a slit, a black spear in an abyss of white. He was also slightly taller, about 6'5". His muscles on his chest, arms and legs had also increased in muscle mass, from an average soldier size, to almost barbarian sized. Though, he was still particularly lean.

"Five percent of my power has been released…" He muttered. "Approaching target, objective: Kill all demons within the Hive, and then destroy the Hive entirely. Leave no survivors." He began his march forward; his wings released their grip on the claymore. The blade dropped down, only to be kicked back up and over Drake's head with a tap of the back of his boot. Drake caught the spinning sword with ease and dragged the tip along the sand as he marched forth, towards the living mountain. He holstered his gun as we went.

He went sand dune over sand dune, the incline not faulting his pace; it was as if he was defying the laws of physics. The crunch of his boots on dry sand was almost satisfying to him, the sun on his face felt rejuvenating and the hot desert air was welcoming to him. He took a deep breath through his nose, welcoming in the dry scent. He exhaling calmly as we walked, he looked comfortable. A smirk appeared on his face. "I'm home alright… Australia…" He murmured. "I'd better call Skitsy out; I don't think he'd like to miss this." He raised a hand out in front of him. "Come on out… The weather's great!" He chuckled, as a fire circle ignited on the ground, below his hand.

A large, brown shell covered leg lifted out of the flames, as if the flames were a portal. The leg was followed by six others, which found places on the rim of the fiery portal. A huge, dog sized scorpion lifted itself out of the portal, its head swivelled around as Drake closed his hand, along with the portal, which died out the instant Drake took his hand away. The creature looked at Drake, almost as if it were annoyed. "What is it?" He asked, his voice was surprisingly deep; it had a very casual and ghetto-ish tone to it. Drake only scoffed, the scorpion responded with what looked like a frown, followed by a short grunt. In the moment that the scorpion had grunted, its size doubled, to that of half of Drake's size.

"I only wanted to see if you wanted to be outside. You're always couped up in that pitch black, ammunition warehouse. So, I thought you'd want to be outside for a chance, to see the sky again." Drake chuckled light-heartedly. Skitsy only tapped his glazed over eyes.

"I'm blind, remember?" Skitsy reminded Drake, to who responded with a giggle.

"I know. Just fucking with ya… Still, do you want to walk with me to the Hive?" Drake offered, Skitsy looked in his direction and nodded.

"Just let me set up a web…" Skitsy lifted his massive stinger vertically, a hissing noise was heard, yet nothing was seen or felt. This went on for a minute, before the hissing stopped and Skitsy lowered his tail and placed his legs in different positions. "Okay, ready." It informed Drake, before walking ahead. "I can feel it, it's huge…" He commented, his legs moving in a smooth rhythm.

"That's what she said~" Drake giggled almost silently, as he followed behind Skitsy, he began to whistle, it was amazing that he could still be pumping out raw power without feeling exhaustion or tiredness. Skitsy's arachnid legs kicked up sand slightly with every stride, the bulbous venom-holding part of his stinger dragged slightly along the ground, leaving a small trail. Skitsy would occasionally lift up a leg tiny appendages on the bottom would look like they were pulling up something, this was Skitsy tugging on his ultra-thin web to see where he was going, and to also see if Drake was still with him.

"Yo, I'm picking up something, 3 o'clock. About 127 metres away from my position. Wanna check it out?" Skitsy stopped suddenly, after checking his web. His tail slowly coiled up in a defensive position. His legs spread slightly, as if he was getting ready to fight, knowing Drake's attitude all too well.

"Nah, we don't have time. We need to blow that off the face off the Earth, before we need to worry about some puny, wayward demon." Drake spoke, forging ahead of Skitsy. The large scorpion quickly snapped himself into a passive stance again, scurrying ahead of Drake.

"H-Hey! Wait up man!" Skitsy called, rushing past Drake. "Don't leave me alone, again! You know what happened last time!" He worried, returning back to his original striding speed. Drake only smiled, continuing forward with his Claymore slung over his shoulder in a nonchalant way.

After a good hour or two of journeying, the two were only metres away from the Hive. "Skitsy, return!" Drake commanded.

"I'm not a damn Pokémon, man! I've told you that a million fuckin' times!" Skitsy growled in annoyance, spinning around to face Drake, lifting up his tail and letting out a hiss.

"Hey, hey… You know I'm only joking… Though I wouldn't mind having a Pokémon… 'Specially a Gyarados… Or maybe a Charizard… OH! Or maybe a Dragonite! Or—"

"Enough about your damn video games! I'm going home!" Skitsy cut off, before spitting out a stream of flame which swallowed him up, transporting him back into his pocket dimension/ammo storehouse.

Drake just paused for a few moments, thinking. "What'd I do?" He puzzled, holding the side of his head in a confused manner. He let out a sigh and scanned the massive Hive before him up and down, analysing it. "… There might be an entrance on this thing, or one far away, disguising itself as a cave… Which one should I choose?" He thought for a moment. "I choose C! Make my own entrance!" He laughed gleefully.

3

The hiss liquid on a hot frying pan atop a stove flame was audible from the Kitchen of the large, double storied house that the trio called their Headquarters. Volcabularious was tossing around a stir-fry in the pan masterfully, mixing around the vegetables, chicken and sauce. Delicious, mouth-watering scents filled the air, travelling around the house with their enticing smell.

Kohaku was currently lying along the length of a 3 person couch in the lounge room, in a blue kimono that was slightly open in a very lazy manner. In her hands was a large novel that she was reading through a pair of glasses. Her medium length white hair was done up in a neat bun. "Dinner should be ready in a few moments… I hope Drake won't mind Stir-Fry tonight… It's a pleasant change from his regular Steak and Chips combination, or his Barbeque Ribs... Perhaps we should allocate days to each cultured dish? Tomorrow could be Japanese, French or maybe even English." Vol called and mused from the kitchen as he turned off the stove, letting the food cook from the residual heat still in the pan.

Vol slowly strolled towards the plate cupboard and fetched out 3 individual bowls, placing them on the kitchen counter, before placing noodles into the bowls, then portioning the vegetables/meat into the bowls on top of the noodles. He then ventured to the cupboard and retrieved a roll of glad-wrap/cling-wrap, pulling a clear square of it out then cutting it off to place it over Drake's bowl. He pulled the drawer open and pulled out two pairs of clean, wooden chopsticks. He placed both pairs in-between his 3rd and 4th fingers on each hand – Two chopsticks in each hand – before picking up both bowls and taking them into the lounge.

Kohaku glanced to Vol before she closed her book with a sigh, memorising which numbered page she was on as she placed the novel onto the coffee table. She raised a hand to pluck the glasses off of her face, closing them up and placing them atop the book safely, before sliding them out of the way.

Vol placed them on the table and glanced to the book for a moment, before taking a seat beside her. "Gotten into my bookshelf, have we?" He arched a brow. "You sneaking into my chocolate stash are bad enough… You still owe me 35 family sized blocks of milk chocolate." He let out a small chuckle, handing Kohaku a pair of chopsticks.

Kohaku only responded with a cheeky smirk, as if she was internally saying "Check again". She hauled into her food, politely though, while Volcabularious seemed to not eat at all. Vol looked lost in thought, was he worried about something, or was he just really intrigued by a random topic that was brewed up in his subconscious? He tapped both chopsticks on his chin out of habit. "... Did I forget to pay for our drinks back in the bar…?" He muttered, he was a gentleman type, always wanting to pay his dues, to be a Good Samaritan whenever he could. But when someone posed a danger to him, or the ones he loved; he would show absolutely no mercy.

"Why would you be worried about that, Lord Vol?" Kohaku asked as she finished swallowing a mouthful of noodles. Vol broke his self-inflicted trance and turned his scarlet gaze to the snowy haired female, his eyes were drawn down gaps in the couch cushions, spotting a plastic chocolate wrapper. His expression slowly transformed into a frown, before letting out a sigh.

Vol reached down and pulled it out, holding it up in front of him and Kohaku. "And to think that you would be able to hide it forever…" He spoke slowly. "You know what happens next." Vol smiled quite evilly, though it had a slight cheekiness to it. In a flash, Vol had Kohaku's katana in hand, unsheathed. He started to scratch his back with it. "Ahhhh, such a good back scratcher… Too bad you're not getting it back." He chuckled.

Kohaku's face distorted into a mix of horror and anger. "No! Give it back, now! I demand it!" Kohaku stretched her arms out for it, trying to snatch it back. Vol only placed a hand on Kohaku's face, pushing her back, and holding the katana well out of reach with his wide arm span.

"Na-a-ah~" Vol teased, twirling the weapon in his fingers in a casual manner. "Just let me do something~" He continued, swapping his hand on Kohaku's face with his shoe, reaching down into his leather pants and slowly pulling out a black bladed tanto knife. He raised it up to the katanas blade, as if he was going to scratch it.

"NO!" Kohaku lunged at Vol, tackling him down hard, pushing off of the couch and down on the ground. The katana and tanto went flying across the room, landing onto the carpeted floor, undamaged. Vol was snickering to himself with the same cheeky smile on his face.

"Alright, alright… I've had my fun. I wasn't really going to damage it; I just wanted to see how you'd react." He spoke calmly, Kohaku slowly got up off of him, blushing slightly after realising what had happened.

"Gomen-nasai… I'm just… A bit protective of my katana, it means the world to me." She spoke, walking to it and picking it up slowly. "Where's the sheath?" She asked, looking around for it as she picked up Vol's tanto and strolled towards her master.

"Slipped under the couch, I did it when I froze time to get your katana." He said. "You have Time-Stop, no? Shouldn't you've been able to see in the frozen time" Vol asked, slowly sitting up and taking the tanto, slipping it into his pants again.

"Not if I'm unaware that one can Time-Stop." Kohaku stated, bending down and slipping her free hand underneath the three man couch. She let out a small grunt and tilted up enough for her to fish out the sheath using her katana. She let the couch down slowly and sheathed her katana, before holding it against her hip. "I'll put it back in its stand." She turned to the stairs and ventured up them, returning minutes later.

Vol was in the kitchen, loading everything into the dishwasher, he placed their two bowls in last and sent it to wash. "… I wonder how Drake is fairing…" He thought to himself for a moment, standing straight up again. He folded his pale, muscly arms across his chest. Kohaku ventured into the kitchen, scanning over him.

"Vorru-Sama… Do you miss Vascalla? Your home?... I still remember the Magakta as clear as day…" Kohaku asked, walking up to him.

"Dearly… I hope my people are still happy in my absence… It pains me that I cannot see my homeland… Though, my duty as a Watcher requires me to look after this Universe, along with the Abyss." Vol answered with a bit of sadness in his tone. "At least I've made friends who'll stand by me until the gruesome end." Vol weakly smiled. "… Kohaku… You don't have to be my servant, you do realise… I have no use for a servant in this Universe, or time. We're all friends in this war, equals… Thus, I hereby end your service to me." Vol smiled, placing a hand on Kohaku's shoulder.

Kohaku stuttered for a moment, not sure what to say. "B-but Vorru-Sama! Who'll serve you tea in the morning or tend to the cleaning when we return to Vascalla?" She protested, her Japanese accent coming through for a moment. Vol only smiled and gave a nonchalant wave, as if he didn't want to listen to her arguing against his choice.

"I have other servants to do that. You work too hard, and please. Don't call me Vorru-Sama, Lord Vol or Master anymore. That is behind us." He told her, walking casually towards the lounge room again. Kohaku gave a frustrated grunt, following him closely with puffed-up cheeks. "… My turn to pick the channel, I've had enough anime to last me a week… With that marathon you forced me to say up with you all night to watch. I think it's only fair that I get to watch a few documentaries and the news." Vol stated, Kohaku immediately let out a whining noise in annoyance.

4

The massive mound of flesh squelched and twitched as Drake approached. "Time to get to work…" Drake chuckled, unfurling his wings and tail from their hiding places, tearing his tank top clean off. The black scales shone brilliantly in the setting Australian sun, he stretched his mouth agape and out came an ear-splitting roar that shook the Earth. All of his teeth transformed into sharp shapes, which he plunged into the side of the mountain of meat. He tore into it, tearing it apart; he was also shovelling the pieces of torn flesh into his mouth, which he swallowed whole. Soon, he burst into an open chamber; the inside was lit up with a dim orange, bioluminescent light that hung from the "Ceiling".

Drake wandered around the glowing orb for a few moments, examining it, before leaping up and slicing the light off of the meaty tendril that was holding it. He caught it in his free hand as it fell and shone it around the room after landing scanned the floor before finding a large hole that led into a deep, dark abyss. "Gotcha…" He smirked, strolling towards it, once at the edge; he dropped the light down the hole and watch it disappear into the darkness. He waited a few moments, before he jumped into it in a pin-dive motion. He free-fell for a while minute or so, before the bone-jarring impact with the ground that caused a miniature crater. He landed in a kneeling position, which he stood up from and scanned around the small tunnel he was in, the light he had dropped down, barely illuminating a few metres. "Humph… This is a massive nest, so where are the demons?" He muttered, before hearing something ahead. A dozen, fluorescent green eyes burned through the darkness ahead. A massive spear resembling a bee-stinger shot out at Drake, it buried itself about a centimetre in Drake's chest, only to stop with a metallic clang. Drake took the hit, only moving slightly upon contact.

Fifteen more shot out and slammed into him, which he took the full brunt of also. Drake only smiled and raised a hand, putting a finger into a hole where one of the stingers had hit and gripping the skin slightly. He started to pull away, eventually grabbing hold of the entire piece of skin. He tore all the skin on his chest off in one swift moment, revealing masculine chest coated in light brown belly scales. "Thought I was a human, eh?" He smirked arrogantly. "Nope, I'm your worst nightmare… A being made to hunt and kill each one of you little shits." He stated, gripping onto the skin on his arms and tearing it off with ease, he used his wings and tail to tear the skin away that was on his back. He was coated in black, reptilian scales. He soon grabbed the skin on his face and tore it off, revealing a metallic mask that rested on his face; it was plain, featureless except for two eye holes, which showed his colourless eyes with black slits. He had no hair, but he grunted soon after tearing his skin off and large horns started to grow out of his head. "Now, should I remove this." He pointed to the mask he was wearing; his voice was not muffled, despite there being no mouth hole. "Let's just say, you're all royally fucked." He chuckled loudly, still sounding human.

Drake swung his sword downwards from his shoulder, screeches were heard as the blade sliced through tough demon carapace, causing lavender blood to spurt out and coat the walls, a distinct and revolting smell was released also, smelling like rotten meat and faeces. Specks of the blood landed on Drake's mask, though one could not see his face, the feeling of insanity loomed over him like a bad omen. Drake made another slice with his claymore, making use of the double edge and pulling it diagonally upwards, more screeches that were filled with pain followed, along with another blast of the disgusting smell and jet of lavender blood which landed on Drake's scaly chest. "Tch, too easy." He spat, stepping over the bodies, he had gotten shorter, and his legs had changed also, into bulky versions of velociraptor-like hind legs, only without the large toe claw. "This damn thing's getting in the way!" He reached up and tore off the mask with a grunt, revealing scaly face. There was a crest of brow scales and two nose holes.

Cracks were heard as a muzzle soon extended out of his face, giving him a more dragon-like appearance, an insane chuckle was emitted from his mouth as smoke arose from his nostrils. He walked forward into the perpetual darkness for what seemed to be hours. He continued ahead, despite not knowing which way he was going, soon, bioluminescent red globes were seen, implanted into the walls, floor and ceiling of the tunnel, lighting the area up in an angry crimson hue. Drake looked around curiously at the globes. "Not like I needed one of them in the first place… I can smell the demons even from here." He mumbled, turning his head ahead, and then continuing down the cave, the lights illuminating the path.

Drake soon came to a fork; the tunnel broke into two paths. The left passage stunk of rotting meat, but not the putrid combination that demon blood smelled like. From the passage on the right, came the sound of wind, air rushing through it. Drake looked from passage to passage. "The left is a dead end… It's a feeding room. The right is the way towards the main hub… I could release my full power there and take out the entire hive in one blow." He strategized for a moment, before strolling down the right path, down towards the source of the eerie breeze; smoke still rose from his nostrils, like thin grey ribbons. "… I wonder how big the main chamber will be…" He thought, stopping for a moment, he raised a clawed hand to his chin and held it in thought. He stood there, with a face that showed that he was deep in thought. "… Probably shouldn't worry." He dismissed it and let go of his chin and continued down the tunnel at a steady pace. His breathing was calm and his gaze was determined, he was an unstoppable creature of destruction, this was undeniable.

Soon after Drake stepped into a massive chamber, lit up entirely by the bioluminescent crimson orbs. Drake surveyed the entire room carefully. "Aw… Come on guys! Did I come early to the party, or am I too late?!" Drake yelled cockily, his shouts were answered by one singular, deafening roar that shook the entire room. "Quiet down, would ya! Your music sucks, and is pissing off the fucking neighbours!" He shouted, another roar shook the room again. "Alright, I'm giving you three fucking choices! 1, Fuck off with your party! 2, Keep on partying, and up dealing with the cops! Or 3, keep on partying, and end up pissing me the fuck off!" Drake stated, an arrogant, cocky smile spread across his snout.

A redwood tree sized claw exploded up from underground, only a dozen metres away from Drake's left side. Drake only looked at it with a slight. "You sir, picked option number 3! Your prize: A free ass-kicking!" He announced, swinging the blade off of his shoulder and holding it straight out towards the claw with ease. "Whoever you are, prepare your anus." Another claw exploded up beside him, both claws seemed to sharp growths on one side. Drake soon realised that these weren't claws, but the mandibles of a massive beast. "Oh… Shit…" Drake's arm drooped down, he started to run frantically out from the centre of the mandibles. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" He squealed, almost flailing his arms behind him as he ran.

A massive head burst through the ground, a massive, reptilian, eye that glowed fluorescent green, opened up in the centre of its face, above its mouth that was filled with jagged teeth. The cheek of the beast threw Drake into the air, who had suddenly stopped screaming. "Booya, motherfucker!" Drake bellowed, throwing his sword down towards the monster. The steel claymore span wildly towards its target's eye, it missed narrowly, embedding itself into the corner of the demon's eyelid. A 4 fingered hand rose up, covered in a thick, dark brown carapace, each finger ended up a long claw. It reached for drake, closing its hand around him. A pained scream pierced the air, recognised as Drake's; the massive demon seemed to ghoulishly laugh.

"Foolish Child of the Dragons… Do you really think your race can truly exterminate the might of Lord Satan? You are truly misled, they only tell lies!" Its voice boomed mandibles and mouth opening and closing in a very odd way that didn't even look like it was in sync with what it was saying. "The Sin demons of Hell will rule over all! Hell, Heaven and everything in between! Give up, drake! Your "purpose" is useless! Unneeded! Unnecessary!" It closed its fist tighter around Drake; cracks were heard, along with more screams of pain.

"Graaaaaaaggghhhhhhh!... Just kidding!" Drake laughed after faking another scream of pain. The demon's hand exploded into a cloud of lavender blood, chunks of meat flew in all directions. The sound of rushing air was accompanied by the sight of Drake Steelscale flying, covered in violet liquid. He licked his lips hungrily, the spears of black in the abyss of white that were his eyes were also covered in blood, making his white sclera look like it was a deep purple colour. He seemed unfazed by this, and shifted his gaze to massive demon that was roaring in pain, Drake raised an open palm at the demon's head, vermillion lightning danced in between his fingertips, jumping from digit to digit. "Chaos Magick, one of the most powerful and unstable elements to control. For an untrained student…" Drake chuckled, as a ball of red lightning formed in his hand, the lightning dancing between his fingers fuelling it.

"Wh-What?! No! Please, wait! Have mercy!" The demon pleaded, fear tainted its massive eye. "I can give you anything you want! Women, power, wealth and knowledge! Spare me and you can have all these things!" It lowered its stubbed arm and raised another hand to hold its wrist tightly in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "I am the Great Wrath Demon Lord, Frek! I have power over a massive army of demons, you can have them!" It offered also. Drake only spat at it.

"Sorry pal, but I'm not interested in your cheap lies." Drake yawned, the orb exploded into a massive bolt of red lightning, which slashed through the air and utterly obliterated the entire front of the demon's head. A deafening bang shook the entire hive, from both the Chaos Lighting Bolt, and the back of the demon's head slamming against the wall. All that remained of the Demon Lord's head was the back half of its brain and the internal bone structure of the beast's head, along with its purple flesh that rested in between its skull and thick carapace, which was shattered upon the impact with the wall. Violet blood flowed out of the gaping hole like a torrent as the demon started to slip back into the burrow that it came from, quite much like a dropped ragdoll too, leaving a bloodstain on the wall.

Drake watched with an arrogant smirk on his face. "I love the smell of charred demon flesh in the afternoon." He chuckled, before turning his attention to the hisses and screeches echoing from the dozens of tunnels that connected to the central chamber. "Ah, fuck…" He sighed. "Activating Shitstorm in three… Two… Ooooooo-Now." Drake counted down, he was right on the mark when the first wave of wasp-like demons swarmed out of a tunnel overhead. "… And activating Tsar Protocol in Three… Two… One…" Drake spoke before a massive explosion came from him, the flames and blast grew and grew, engulfing the entire area within a 2 kilometre radius around Drake. All was destroyed, leaving a massive crater in the ground. The power of the massive release of power matched that of a Nuclear Bomb. An earth-shaking roar rose above the deafening explosion, as massive black wings extended out, along with a tail that spanned the length of the crater, a black, scaled, neck flew out, shorter than the tail. On the end of it was the massive head of a black dragon, complete with a snout, frill and smoke rising from its nostrils. The fireball soon suffocated itself, revealing the mountain sized body of the Dragon. Its chest was large and muscly, while it thinned out at the hips; it was lean and made for physical attacks. Massive talons dug into the Earth. "… Tacos?" It spoke in a somewhat confused manner, its voice deep and draconian, searching around for something. "Where's tacos? I thought there was tacos." It puzzled, failing at grammar slightly. It crawled out of the crater, swivelling its head around. "Tacos? Yoohoo~ where is you?" It called, bringing its head down close to the ground and looking around, the spears of black scanning the red Australian sand.

Its size gradually decreased as it searched around, its voice also gained pitch, returning to a normal voice. "Ta-co… I hate it when that happens; it's like a retarded little brother who annoys the piss outta you…" The now bus sized Dragon spoke, standing up on his hind legs and shrinking even further. "I gotta see what the research department can do about it." It sighed, folding its wings up and folding its tail straight up in between them. It was Drake, he had released his true form, the massive release of power resulted in an explosion matching that of a Nuke.

He stood up on his tip toes, returning to his 6'2" tall stature as tiny fleshy tendrils slipped through his black scales and slotting together, forming a layer of new skin over him, except on his wings and tail. He was butt naked, but looked human again, except for his face. Gout of flame burst in his hand, forming a new mask. He placed it on his face, a click was heard when it was in position. The tendrils on his head then joined together, replicating his human look again. "… Should I go for a new haircut? Or new colour…" He thought for a moment, scratching his chin. "Nah… I should keep my eye colour too." His eyes shifted back into their emerald green colour, the pupils becoming circular again. A full head of red hair grew back in a manner of seconds, in the exact same style as before. "Muscle toning, back to human military." He announced, his bulging bodybuilder-like muscles shrinking down. "And now… Pants." He chuckled, flames spawned and danced around his legs, slowly forming the black cargo pants he usually wore. "Boots." He added, as the flames shifted down, forming his military boots, he bent down and bloused his pants around them. "… Fuckin' sand… Tank top." He complained as the flames wrapped around his torso, covering his wings and tail. After creating the tank-top, the flames dissipated with an audible –POOF–.

"Time to go home… Flama Ambulant!" He spell weaved a fire ball in front of him, just by seemingly concentrating on that area and snatched it up in his right hand, chucking it onto the ground, like a football player who just scored for his team. "Cannonball!" He bellowed, jumping up and bringing his knees close to his body, wrapping his arms around them as he dropped down into and through the patch of flame the fireball had created.

He was plunged into a world of pure fire, Drake was still smiling, his hair and clothes flapping and buffeting in the wind that somehow existed. A light was soon seen in the distance below him.

5

Drake pierced through the light and landed heavily onto Volcabularious' lap, a loud crunch was heard as Drake outstretched himself. "Hiya!" He greeted with a cheeky smile. Vol looked like he was in extreme pain; his cheeks were puffed up, lips pressed together and his face a deep shade of red. A muffled scream was heard coming from Vol's closed mouth.

"MMMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNNNNNN!" He strained hard, lifting both arms and shoving Drake off heavily, his legs looked crushed and disfigured. "GAAAAAAAAAA-OHMYGAWD!" Vol finally let out pained scream. "YOU ALWAYS DO THAT!" He yelled angrily at Drake as his legs returned to their normal shape, looking healed and perfect in a matter of seconds. "Do you have any idea of how heavy you are?!" He asked angrily.

"… Yes." Drake cheekily smiled from his lying down position on the floor, hands behind his head and on leg slightly curled up. "About 500 kilos with this power negating mask." He tapped his face twice. "Twice that much without it."

Kohaku was on the other side of the sofa, and she was in hysterics, she looked like she was about to fall off the couch. Volcabularious only face palmed and let out a sigh, shifting his scarlet gaze back towards the television impatiently. "I'm surrounded by idiots…" He muttered, Kohaku settled down after a few moments, along with Drake, who looked up at Vol, cutely. "… What're you planning?" Vol asked through a sigh, knowing that look all too well.

"Nothing~" Drake lied with a sarcastic tone; he was brewing up something both cheeky and evil. His cute look turned into a slightly sinister smile, he picked himself up and started to stroll to the television. "Now… How much did this cost?" He asked, patting the edge of it a few times.

"… About 200,000 Yen… Why?" Vol asked, arching a brow. "…! No! Don't even think abou-." Vol's protest was ignored as Drake tipped the thing over, onto the floor and breaking it in the process. It fizzled and sparked for a few moments, still playing the sounds, which soon slowed and eventually halted.

"Ehhh-whoops! Butterfingers!" Drake raised both hands slightly; he was trying to get on Vol's nerves, just for the fun of it, too. A cocky and destructive smirk spread across his lips as Vol slowly stood up, his scarlet hues burned with rage.

"Well, look who goes without a TV for a month while I rake up the funds to buy a new one…" Vol growled angrily, strolling towards Drake who was still smirking. With the swing of his arm, Vol had Drake by the collar, lifting up him to his height. "Do that again, and you'll be paying." He growled.

"Haha… 'kay, whatevs'." Drake giggled. "I have enough money to buy the world three times over." He stated, merely shrugging and pulling himself out of Vol's grip. He landed on his feet and slid his hands into his pockets casually. "I've had enough fun for today… Where's my stake?" He asked, venturing into the kitchen as he clicked his fingers, an ember spawned and fluttered to the broken television set. The entire area went up in flames, consuming the broken television into nothing, as a new one came into existence, replacing it. He swung his hand in a nonchalant way, killing the flames off. Kohaku was gobsmacked by the sight, perched on the couch with her jaw agape in amazement.

"We're not having beef tonight… Stir Fry." Vol informed Drake, leaning in the doorway with arms folded across his chest, smiling slightly. Drake only rolled his eyes, grabbing the bowl and placing it in the microwave. He let it re-heat as he turned around to face Vol. "So, how was the Wrath Hive?" Vol arched a brow interrogatively.

"It was good, not all that crowded, and not all that hard… It was the biggest I had seen, but it was way too easy for my liking." Drake told Vol, leaning against the counter with one hand. "Though… There was a Demon Lord… Never seen one in a Hive before." He stated, thinking for a moment. "Anyway, he was easy pickings for me, only Chaos Lightning Bolt was all I needed." The microwave alarm went off and Drake took out the bowl of reheated noodles, then proceeding to close the door and venture to the draws. "Chopsticks?" He asked.

"It is suggested…" Vol spoke through his thoughts. "Hmmmmm… The amount of demon hives been sighted has peaked recently, and that one massive hive… I think this leads up to something. We should act now and knock out the danger ASAP." Vol suggested. "We just need to find the source… Which we have no absolutely what clue to where, or what it is." He sighed, with a worried expression. "At this rate, we'll only have years, maybe even months before we lose the war, and Earth, to the demons." Vol closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "What'd you suggest we do?" Vol asked Drake, who was currently stuffing his mouth full of Stir Fry with great difficulty, since he was not used to using chopsticks.

Drake loudly swallowed, the bulge of food could be seen crawling down his throat. "… I think that we should just blow the fuck out of everything." He bluntly said, shovelling another clump of noodles, vegetables and chicken into his mouth. "That's how I deal with most of my problems ever since I became a Drake." He shrugged with a mouthful of noodles, placing an empty bowl on the counter. "Got anymore? Or do we have desert?" He asked, twirling both chopsticks in-between his fingers, quite agilely too.

Vol responded with a shake of his head. "That's all… I thought you would've eaten your kills." Vol told Drake, asking him with a head tilt. "You didn't… Didn't you?" He buried his face into his right palm in a swift movement after realising Drake didn't eat before. Drake only groaned in annoyance, dropping the chopsticks on the counter and shuffling his feet as he walked out of the kitchen.

"He-he-he…" A deep voiced giggle sounded behind Volcabularious, the familiar voice was like a relaxing song behind Vol. "How is my dear little Brother doing?" The voiced asked, followed by the crunch of an apple. Volcabularious quickly spun around to face the speaker. The male that came into Vol's view was shorter than him, yet slightly taller than Drake. His hair was jet black, much like Vol's, he was also muscly, more so than Drake. "It has been awhile, 500 years?" He smiled slightly brightly.

"N-Nagato?" Vol stuttered, arching a brow slightly, he wasn't expecting the change of looks. He was slightly cautious of his "Brother", in case it was a demon disguising itself as a familiar memory. The male only smiled further.

"The one and only Nagato Tenebris…" He folded his arm across his chest. "Honestly, has the time you've spent around with the humans turned your brain to mush? The foolishness of the pitiful species can do that…" Nagato despised the humans, he regarded them as weak and unnecessary, a race that will burn themselves out and bring extinction upon themselves.

Volcabularious only responded with a snicker. "You've just changed so much. That's all… I see you've adopted a human form… Personally I like the looks; they can be quite attractive if their body is treated well. I guess I was lucky to have created such a tall form, with looks that I like… I especially enjoy my eye colour…" He mused quietly. "… What brings you to the planet which you despise most? Shouldn't you be in your own Universe, tending to it?" He went on to ask, curiously, as he brushed a few locks of black hair out of his face. "… And before you ask the same question… The Abyss is safe and sound. I cut off all entrances to it when I left to live on Earth… I do, however, check up on it upon occasion."

"I don't have a Universe to look after, remember? I'm usually just one of Father's war generals, leading the assaults against the highest ranking dangers to the Universes they live in." Nagato reminded Vol; he soon broke his stoic arrogance, and opened his arms for a warm embrace. "Enough talk… Come give your Big Brother a hug!" He smiled widely, chuckling somewhat.

Vol smiled and literally picked up Nagato as he hugged him, bringing Nagato to his height. Nagato wheezed from the strength Vol hugged him with. "Big Bruthaaaaaa~!" Vol laughed, dropping him afterwards, Nagato stumbled for a moment, holding his chest.

"I forgot how strong you were… And this human body is so fragile… I'm gonna have to get used to this…" Nagato gasped for air. "… Anyway… I need to go… I'll check up on you later... I need a rest, maybe I should look around the cities… Earth's changed, a lot." He stood back up again, his body started to fade into seemingly nothing. "Ciao." He gave a small wave before disappearing completely.

Vol only giggled and sighed. "I almost forgot about my beloved Brother… I wish him good luck in his new adventure; I do hope it will be as gracious as mine was…" Turning back towards the kitchen door. Drake's voice boomed in from the lounge room.

"Yo, Vol! I heard a voice, who was it?" Drake asked loudly, making sure that Vol could hear him, he was currently laying length ways along the couch, arms folded across his chest and his emerald eyes were set on the television. He was watching an old, 50 year old action movie. "... Movies from the 00's are so good…" He muttered to himself, he had zoned out again, focussing on the movie.

"Uh-Erm… Just me talking to myself, Drake. Nothing to worry about!" Vol lied; he didn't want to be overwhelmed with questions from both Drake and Kohaku, about his enigmatic Brother, Nagato. Kohaku was focussed on the television too, almost like a cat watching a string intently. Though she was forced to sit on the ground, due to Drake's greediness with the couch. Vol entered through the doorway, ducking under it due to his extreme height. "What are we watching?" Vol wandered in, standing to the side of the couch, his eyes focussed on the TV.

"The… Mason… Or something like that… I'm not good with movie titles…" Drake sighed.

"Oh… That movie… It's old, over 50 years I think… 1999? That was a good year…" Volcabularious smiled at the memories. "… Then again, every year was a good year, compared these times, some people may say otherwise, but nothing can compare to the mass genocide against the Human Race... Or the Dragons." Vol quickly added to the list, knowing how Drake would react to only hearing the mistreatment of humans.

"… Clever boy, you know how loyal I am to the Dragons…" Drake smirked. "I am a dragon-worshipper, after all."

"Well, I do aim to impress." Vol smirked, he usually said this whenever he was complimented, it was his catchphrase, of sorts. "Oh, Drake. I was watching the news earlier, there seems to have been a number of odd sightings near the city of London, my old home for a good century… I was planning on running a solo mission, but then I was reminded on how much you would whine if I didn't bring you. Would you care to accompany me, old friend?" Volcabularious stared at Drake, offering him to be his wingman for a short mission to the United Kingdom. The two used to team up all the time, they had been all over the world and fought in every kind of battle known to man. "There has also been an incubi sighting nearby, Kohaku has graciously offered to take it down whilst we take care of business in England." He added.

"… Incubi? Aren't they supposed they be rare? The Lust Hellgate's been closed since the end of the first assault on Earth." Drake asked, before slowly turning his head towards Vol, giving a toothy smile in response; his large canines gave Vol slight chills down his spine. "And yes… I'll join ya ."

"I-I'll take that as a yes… But… We first must rest. We'll be forging a direct path to England, no plane flights for you, especially after what had happened on our first mission together…" Vol claimed, shuddering slightly.

"Hey! I've changed since then, I can control myself!" Drake grunted in annoyance, protesting to Vol's claim.

"For 15 hours?" Vol arched a dark eyebrow, knowing how hungry Drake could get.

"… If I get something to eat right before we board… Yes." Drake smirked. "… I think a tonne of Macca's'll do." Drake responded in a cocky way, like the smartass he was. As a drake, he would have to consume the equivalent of 10 meals a day, in order to supply the massive demand for energy, due to his astonishing burning of energy from the amount his body he used. There was an alternative to 10 meals a day, and that was an entire human, most drakes took to this method as humans were "Slow, easy to catch and kill… They also taste like chicken… Stringy texture like chicken, too..." – Syale, #299324, 2nd Division Scout, Berzerker Type, Red Brute Drake (1978-2019).

Volcabularious let out a loud sigh, shaking his head from side to side slightly. His lips slowly curled into a smile. "Fine then…" Vol chuckled, lifting his head up, to look at Drake. "We'll take a plane, as long as you don't make a nuisance of yourself." Vol told, he was giving a Drake a chance to prove that he has indeed matured. Drake only nodded with a smirk on his face, he sat up, setting his feet on the ground.

Drake stood up in a fairly casual way, setting his hands in his pockets, and wandering towards the stairs. "I'm gonna get some sleep, see ya' in the morning…" He yawned, ascending the stairs onto the second floor of the house. The handrail was painted white, no chipping or imperfections, supported by black, ornate metal poles. The stairs themselves were covered in a crème covered carpet, much like most of the carpeted rooms. The walls were painted white, with the occasional painting hung up. There were sometimes even antique photographs hung up, usually in black and white, even in sepia tone. There was the occasional colour picture. Drake usually briefly scanned these photographs and paintings, he wondered how old they were, and why they were taken or painted.

At the top of the staircase, on the wall was a black and white photograph, depicting Volcabularious in a black tail coat and trousers, a 19th Century Butler's outfit. He still looked as young as he did now, in his early 20's. Volcabularious mentioned his life on occasion, the oldest story he shared was from over 500 years in the past, Feudal Japan, when he had "Just arrived on Earth", Drake was still trying to crack through his friend's personality to find his origins, Drake could sense the dark power being held back by Vol, the pure darkness and corruption that was sealed within, preventing the utter tainting of their Universe.

From what Drake had gathered, he thought that Vol was a renegade demon that had reformed, due to his looks, personality, fighting style and power. Drake was ever cautious of Vol, fearing that he may turn. In any case, Drake still regarded him as a friend, and trusted him with his life.

Turning to the right and wandering down the hall, a number of windows lined the right side; looking out onto a portion of the roof, then the plot of grass land and the tree line of the forest that surrounded them. To the left, were 2 doors, large, yet regular looking. He stopped at the 1st door on the left and opened it. As he walked in, he gave it a nonchalant push with his free hand, it closed with a slam as he strolled toward the large, double bed. He let out a tired sigh and withdrew his muscled arms from the arm loops of his tank top; he took the remaining fabric and pulled it up and off of him. With a nonchalant throw to the side, he spread his arms out and fell onto the white duvet with a small bounce on the soft sheets.

He kicked off his boots with seeming ease, the laces undoing themselves as he raised each foot to the lip of the boot and finally flying through the air to the far corner of the unlit room. Drake turned over and let out a loud yawn as he closed his emerald eyes, his arrogant spreading across his face again.

6

Bird calls signalled the dawn of the new day, the morning Japanese sun rose up, slowly revealing the mist. Volcabularious had just fallen asleep, the novel he was reading had kept him up the entire night, he was reclining back on a fainting couch, his pale eyes closed and the book open on his abdomen, facing down. Drake mumbled slightly at the bird calls. "Shut-up!.. Stupid birds…" He stirred, squirming about slightly, turning around and burying his face into the pillows, he usually didn't sleep under the covers, unless the occasion arose, or when it back too cold, even for him to handle.

Kohaku, however, was already outside, dressed in her usual attire; light grey jeans, white vest and a large black coat – much like Vol's. Her own katana was held firmly in the grip of her left hand. It was cold, though Kohaku looked as though she didn't mind it, almost ignoring it completely. Light puff of white vapour came from her mouth every time she exhaled calmly. "… They'd better wake up soon, or they'll miss their flight." She sighed, glancing back at the house for a brief moment, before turning around and venturing forward, towards the edge of the tree line, and into the forest.

The only sound to be heard was her footfall upon the dead foliage scattered amongst the dull, brown dirt. There was the occasional coating of pink on the ground, from the cherry blossom trees that were found not all too often in this area.

Hours of strolling passed, before the distant shouts of Drake and Vol were heard, obviously in a panic to get to the airport in time for their flight. "Drat, my pants are torn!" Vol's voice panicked. "One moment, I must get a new pair!"

"Oh no, you don't!" Drake responded angrily. "You can by a new pair at the airport!"

"But a gentleman must look his best on /all/ occasions!"

Car doors were heard slamming before the rumble of a speeding truck down a gravel pathway. Kohaku giggled to herself, she found their mishaps quite hilarious, the two made quite the comedic pair.

The silence that followed was almost tense, the air became electrified, and Kohaku could sense a presence. A sultry chuckle came from above, before the rustle of leaves, there was a flash of a red tail and a bat-like wing. "My, my… What tasty little morsel has wandered into my hunting grounds? A human?... Or perhaps an angel~?" A deep voice flirtatiously broke the silence, the direction it was coming from was unknown; it was well hidden, using the trees as a way to bounce its voice around, to keep itself hidden. Finally the being revealed itself, showing off its humanoid form. Its skin was the same colour as a regular human's, it was tall, and flawless, baring its chest but keeping its lower body covered in what seemed to be a waistcloth woven with silk. It was crimson red with a black and gold, double helix trim. A pair of red, bat-like wings came from its shoulder blades, and a tail that ended in an arrowhead whipped around behind it. This being was male in appearance, and it was certainly masculine and attractive, as Incubi and Succubi are.

Kohaku's eyes seemed to sparkle with lust for a moment, but shook it off, this was a demon, her target. She kept her cold and stoic features and shrugged off the flirting. "I don't even know myself. But, race doesn't matter, you'll still feel the cold kiss of my blade." She emotionlessly stated, taking hold of her katana's handle and entering a stance; the blade held in her left hand, the sheathed edge facing upwards, the weapon cosily nestled between her forearm and abdomen, she was relying on a single slash to end this. "Mother, Father… Let us take our vengeance." She mumbled, as if she were speaking to her sword.

"Awh, come now… Don't you want to learn more?... We demons aren't so bad, when you get to know us better." The Incubus kept on tempting her to give in, but Kohaku gave no reaction whatsoever, if not showing slight anger. "Tch, fine… You asked for it~!" He smirked, entering a hand-to-hand stance, not one of Earth, it looked like a brawler style. The demon was the first to make a move, it leant forward, using its front leg to launch itself forward at the dancing samurai. Pounding its fist into an open hand before lifting up, ready to slam it into her face; its face was twisted into a demented smirk, that displayed the twisted pleasure the incubus was feeling from this battle, it was in a bloodlust, rather than a lust.

Kohaku responded with a quick flick of her thumb, pushing it against the tsuba (guard), revealing the dark grey habaki (blade collar) for a split second. The moment the demon came within range, one swift movement came from her. She started to pull the katana out of its sheath, following the form until the weapon was revealed halfway, then turning the blade and it's sheath using her left hand ninety degrees counter-clockwise – to Kohaku – before continuing the singular fluid movement. The rest of the blade came crying out of its sheath, flying into the lust demon's side, right under its ribcage.

Kohaku's slash was perfectly straight – as it needed to be, to cut through her target as if it were partially melted butter. A shrill and pained yell came from the demon, the colour of pink flew from both halves of the sliced demon. The bottom half slumped down onto the ground, motionless. The other half flailed through the air, before hitting the ground, gasping for air and screaming out in pain. Kohaku stood in the position of the end of the slash, before standing up straight, and bringing her blade across her. She flicked the sword diagonally down, throwing off the lust demon blood. She then brought her sheath forward beside her, her hand slightly over the opening, she guided the blade's back edge, near the collar to her hand, before sliding it up, until the tip hovered in front of the opening of the sheath, motioning the blade horizontally and finally sliding it into the sheath slowly, before the clack of the guard making contact with the sheath was heard, she then released her grip on the handle, and turned away. "You're not worthy of being opponent." She coldly claimed, before walking away. "Demonic scum… You are without honour…"

Kohaku headed back to home, slowly, with closed eyes. The demon had put her in a bad mood, she wasn't one like being flirted with, it happened almost every time she went out by herself. She had her heart broken by people before – one of the reasons why she is so cold to strangers nowadays. She didn't trust them, but, when Volcabularious and Drake came along, she could tell that they were different, their motives were different from the others. She could feel the kindness of Vol when she first met his soft gaze, and despite Drake's cocky and angsty attitude, she could tell that he was just a happy goofball on the inside. But, her mind was on other things, currently; she just wanted to get home, get warmly dressed, read a book and drink some tea. She needed her private time, as anyone does.

7

Let's turn back the clock a bit, and go back to the house, right after Kohaku left. Drake was too lazy to care to look at the time, he thought that it was incredibly early, so he attempted to shift in another hour of sleep in. Vol however, was now lazily drifting his eyes open; blinking a few times, he then shifted his view towards the antique clock, mounted on the wall, above a shelf that was shorter than the others that circled the room. His eyes shot wide open when he spotted the time, twenty-tree minutes to ten in the morning. His shirtless body flinched upright and off of the fainting couch in a panic. "Two and a half hours until our flight departs! We must make haste!" Vol ran out the door, almost running straight into it from his sheer stress of the situation at hand. "Drake! Up and at 'em! Get ready and pack what you need!" He yelled down the hallway as he bounded into his own room.

Dashing into the wardrobe, before throwing down a small travel case and throwing in items of clothing, including a vest, dark grey shirt, a pair of normal trousers. Afterwards he quickly slipped on his short sleeved turtleneck/t-shirt hybrid, which was coloured dark grey, his trench coat then followed, with its menagerie of belts which looked like they were made to hold a variety of weapons, mostly blades. He took a belt from a rack and looped it through his pants in a swift movement. He slipped on a pair of socks also and stepped into a pair of black dress shoes. "I hope you're up and getting ready!" Vol called out again, before rushing out of his room, flicking off the lights as he went, proceeding to march to Drake's room, his travel case trailing behind him. "Drake?" He waited for a response. The only sound in response he had received, was the sound of light snoring. "… Why does he have to be such a heavy sleeper?" He groaned in annoyance, raising a leg, almost busting the door open, off of its hinges, luckily he twisted the door knob, then did it.

"Drake! Up! Now!" Volcabularious ordered authoritively, dropping his travel case and heading to Drake's wardrobe, he flung open the door. He tossed the first case he could find right at Drake, it landed with a loud bang on Drake's head. Drake's eyes shot open, his immediate reflex to having such a rude awakening was to pull out the customised black M1911 he had hidden under his pillow and aim it right at the one who had awoken him. While he did so, he let out an aggravated roar, panting afterwards when he had the sights trained on Vol's cranium. His expression was most definitely not one of an amused person.

"Why'd you wake me up? And what time is it?" Drake growled, his usually spikey, swept back hair was a mess, from the way he was laying his head on the pillow; one side was particularly more puffy then the other, and his bangs were a mess, the longest one on the left side was frizzy and parted, making his triple bang look more like emo-fringy looking thing. This caused Vol to chuckle, which he tried to cover up the best he could by keeping his mouth shut and covered, looking away also may have assisted. Drake's response was to frown and lower his weapon, before reaching under his pillow again, pulling out the leather belt and holster. He sat up, letting out a sigh, the belts fixed horizontally across his torso widening and groaning in protest, he used these belts to restrict his breathing, so he didn't burn everything he faced whenever he sighed.

"Fifteen minutes to ten in the morning. We need to get moving, now." Vol stated, Drake's expression didn't change, but he did utter something.

"… Fuck…" Drake raised two hands to above his shoulders, laying the palms flat down, before he wormed his entire body from his legs to his head, before releasing the energy upwards and forward, throwing himself off of the bed and onto his feet. He walked into the wardrobe, his body suddenly consumed in flame, as were the clothes discarded messily around his room. The flames calmed their rage, the clothes now on Drake, put perfectly onto his body. He turned around. "Done, don't need anything, let's go, now." Drake told Vol, before walking past him, taking him by the collar and dragging him along. "I don't want to miss breakfast. You've got the tickets, right?"

"Release me this instant! I have them, but I'd rather not be dragged to our destination!" Vol squirmed about in the other's grip, even though Drake was smaller than Vol, he was still able to bring him along with ease, he had no difficulty taking him by the collar. Drake loosened his grip and let go, bringing his hand into his pocket with a sigh. Vol fell down onto his rear with a soft grunt. He glared up at the redhead, before standing up, rushing along with Drake. They came upon the front door, which Drake threw open with a swift moment, he approached the large Humvee parked at the front of the house, it resembled the standard military version "… That brutish thing…? Just, please, do not leave a trail of destruction." Vol sighed as he followed him out, the door slammed shut, a clicking noise followed, it was an automatic locking mechanism. Vol took a step away from the door, before meeting resistance. Vol tilted his head at the odd feeling pulling at the back of his leather pants, but shrugged it off, he went on forward – only for the horrifying sound of tearing leather to follow.

Vol span around, to see a fair chuck from the seat of his pants hanging loosely from the door's lip, his expression turned to pure horror, before patting his backside, only to feel boxer fabric. "Drat! My pants are torn! One moment! I must go back to get a new pair!" Vol reached for the door handle, only for Drake to grab him by the collar once again and toss him into the open door of the truck. Vol tumbled through the driver's side of the car and into the passenger's seat. He was in a very uncomfortable looking position, his face was firm against the window and his ass in the air, near the handbrake.

"Oh no, you don't!" Drake responded angrily. "You can get a new pair at the duty free shop!" Drake followed, stepping into it and taking a seat, before doing up his seatbelt. "Buckle up, bitch. Throw your bag in the back and sit tight." He simply stated, before twisting the keys that were already inserted into the ignition from the last time he was in it. Vol did as he was told and tossed his luggage into the back seats, just as the machine roared to life. He reached up and guided his seatbelt on, before taking a casual seating position; his elbow set securely on the frame of the window and his jaw in his palm.

Drake kicked the truck into reverse and tilted the accelerator down a fair bit; the car slid out of its parking place, throwing gravel everywhere as it turned to face the road out away from their home and towards the main highway. He changed the gear into first and stepped on it, it accelerated fairly quickly, so he changed the gear up almost instantaneously. Within a good minute Drake was already up to sixth gear and racing along the road at about two-hundred and twenty kilometres per hour. This Humvee wasn't the standard human military model; this was the modified version the drake military used and issued regularly to its field troops. Drake's control over the vehicle on the gravel at such a high speed was amazing, and he drove so casually, the tires were the same as any other, it was Drake who was controlling the situation with such ease. The forest surrounding them was flashing by in a brown/green blur, it was disorienting to the untrained, but both Drake and Vol had been on this path hundreds of times before, they knew the twists and turns, the memorised it and could even absently make the turns unconsciously, it was out of muscle memory.

Within mere minutes, the gravel path and green blur of the woods opened up to an asphalt road, which Drake twisted the vehicle into a powerslide towards. The sound of slipping gravel turned into the screech of rubber against road. Drake still had his foot right down on the acceleration, simply not caring about whatever was in his way or whoever tried to stop him. The khaki coloured steel monster of a machine sped along roads and drifted around corners with grace; but to those on the sidewalks and on the very same streets, it was a scene of absolute chaos and fear. Drake's eyes were set on the roads, a stoic expression on his face, which was broken by the smirk tugging slowly and faintly at his lips. He was enjoying this, he was enjoying the action, the cheap thrill of it all. He was getting off from the chaos, the fear and the havoc he was wreaking. Vol was leant back in his seat, his eyes wide open from the excitement, he was both panicking and laughing on the inside from the adrenaline rush.

Within minutes they flew right onto a freeway, the ramp up only made the seemingly unstoppable truck jump through the air for a few seconds, much like a raging lion come down on its unfortunate prey, before crashing down onto all four wheels, a loud bang sounded as the skirts of the truck smashed violently into the ground which caused sparks to fly. The car lost some grip and swivelled from side to side as it sped up once again, the engine roared furiously and the exhaust spewed out hot gasses from the strain that was put on it. "Drake! Settle down! This isn't a race!" Vol yelled over the sound of the blasting engine; Drake glimpsed towards Vol, his smirk grew before he hit a button on the truck's custom sound system, one Drake installed himself for his own entertainment. Hardcore Metal music burst through the dual subwoofers and speaker system that was placed around the inside of the car, to drown out the noise.

"You need to lay back a lil' Vol! Get reckless and do stupid shit for cheap thrills!" Drake shouted over the music, lightly headbanging to the heavy music. Vol only sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back lazily. He wasn't in the mood for Drake's destructive and rebellious behaviour; Vol was much different to Drake, he was refined, classy and an overall gentleman. Vol was always within reach of nobility or noble blood, which was odd, because aristocrats rarely existed nowadays, and Vol looked almost too young for his personality, which had also made Drake assume that Vol was in fact a Renegade Demon, but not once had Vol shown sinful desire or any of the destructive traits of a demon, but Drake had decided to stick with his assumption, until Vol said he was otherwise.

Both Drake's concentrations and Vol's train of thought were broken by a piercing wail, coming from outside the car, the wailing's pitch fluctuated, going high, then low, then high again, this process repeated over and over again. Drake shifted his view to his rear vision mirror, flashing colours of both ruby and sapphire obscured the black and white brutishness of a police car. Much different from the ones used forty years ago, these ones were slick and streamlined, made for speed, but were also incredibly hard to damage. Equipped with advanced technologies and even weaponry, a single police car could match up to a group of five average police cars from the year 2013. Drake's smirk bubbled into an arrogant smile. "Finally, some action!" He laughed almost gleefully, using his elbow to shatter his door's window. He reached his right arm out, his hand closed into a ball and his palm facing skyward; he slowly extended his middle finger upwards and turned it towards the officers within the pursuing police cruiser. He pulled in his hand after chuckling some, keeping his Humvee at its high speed.

A simply flick of a button from the police officers and the front grill of the sportscar looking cruiser opened up to reveal an array of spikes with a metallic ball in the centre; this orb started to rotate aimlessly, slowly picking up speed before electric sparks flew outward from the spikes and onto the ball, a crackling noise licked at the eardrums of the two and the sound system started to buzz with static. "Oh fuck! Is that an EMP?" Drake turned his head to look back at it, he was grinning widely. "Those cheeky little fucknuts!" Before turning his attention ahead again, now weaving around the traffic in a more agile and tricky way, making it more difficult for the officers to target their jeep and blast it with something that would cut out their power. Drake knew that the EMP would have to have a limited range and would be a weapon that would have to aimed, rather than it being a burst weapon that sent a shockwave; if it did shockwave, it would cut out the power to the police cruiser, also.

Vol let out and growl and glared at Drake, his red hues burning with anger. "See what you've done?! You've jeaprodised the mission! If they claim us, they'll soon know our identities then your race will be hunted down, we'll have two wars on our hands, not to mention, we'll become freak experiment test subjects!" He snapped, obviously not pleased with Drake's choices and overall disregard for authority. "Learn to show some respect, you fool! Have you no honour?"
"'Course I do! I just have a different code of honour to yours!" Drake both rudely and cheekily retorted. "Now how should I deal with these guys? Should I kill 'em, or lose 'em?" Drake asked the other, keeping his eyes now firmly on the road, he didn't care to remove his foot from the accelerator or even use the breaks, he was trained to be perfect in any moment of action, flawless in every attack, every movement.
"Whichever won't cause more trouble!" Vol barked, before