- 6 -


—Are you still following?

...

Good — you had better be — because we've barely scratched the surface of this incomprehensible "play". In fact, we haven't even introduced all of our "actors" yet.

Let's review who we have so far—

- our little travelling rebel group:

Consisting of seven now in all, each member of the group holds a rather delectable secret; they share a common and impossible goal: to bring down the Empire — their individual goals, however, lie on completely opposite sides of the line,

- our Capital City players:

All of the players are struggling their hardest to obtain the "future" to which they want to arrive at; their goals vary, and it's quite apparent that not all of them are playing by the same deck of cards,

- our fearsome Generals:

They're quick in mind but even quicker to the kill; now, their goals are the hardest of all to distinguish. What do they wish to achieve? What are they striving for? What makes their separate goals so hard to discern is how simple their goals really are. We'll get to that part later though,

- our lonely and mysterious young girl:

She evidently has unknown ties with "actors" on different sides of the "stage"; her loyalties and goals are even more indiscernible than those of the Generals,

- our lovely thieving dynamic duo

Let's not forget the bumbling couple; despite their singular appearance, they have already greatly changed the plotline of our "play" and have guided some of the other "actors" onto different "routes"; although their role seems small at this moment, just you wait and see how much they influence with their bumbling and stumbling.

Now, that we're done reviewing, tell me and be honest: have you really been paying attention? To every single detail? Because every detail is important.

Huh? Do you want me to explain further?

Well, I guess I could… But they are "spoilers" of sorts, so if you hate those types of things, you'd best avert your gaze and cover your ears.

Alright.

Do you remember Willowasher Villa — the closest place to Seton City that that dimensional witch had a portal placed? Do you recall how the rebels mentioned that it was overrun by soldiers?... Good, because there's a reason for that.

How about that instance where Cody Anderson claimed to have witnessed a bullet hit our delinquent rebel right on the mark— do you remember that as well? The boy's claim was correct. I'm going to put that fact aside for now.

Looking at the time, I say we should focus on the task at hand.

But before we continue with our "play", let's move backwards for a bit and then start forward from there, so we can look at a few other events that serve as links to the chain of our "play".


[The Red Light District, nine years ago]

It's dark; but it's a pleasant kind of dark. The sky is colored with jaded indigo and is dotted with twinkling white stars that smile down upon the festive town.

The town is festive in all manners — sound, color, light, atmosphere. The energy of the entire area buzzes with celebratory happiness.

Young girls wearing colorful flowery robes dance throughout the streets with young boys dressed in patterned cloaks; lights pour from the sparklers they hold in the tips of their fingers, casting spirited shadows across the lantern-adorned buildings. Hand-in-hand the boys and girls swirl around in a dance, their giggles filling the night.

A smoky, yet mouthwatering scent wafts into the air, as a steady stream of gray puff rises from the crackling bonfire at the center of the town. Adults and older children surround the flickering light with baskets of uncooked meats and vegetables in hand. They are dressed in both cloaks and robes that flutter like colorful wings in the midnight breeze.

The said midnight breeze causes the low-hanging rainbow lamps strewn across the tops of the buildings of the village to sway ever so slightly. Beneath those swaying lights and on the sidewalks lining the streets sit numerous eye-catching stalls and booths. A steady flow of children and adolescents filter to and from the bright entertainment areas, carrying toys and foods bundled in their arms upon their departure.

Everything is light and cheerful; colorful and happy; smiles and cheers — the few Military Officers who roam the streets are also grinning with contentedness.

However...

Untouched by the festivities of the town, what can only be described as a "demon" with red hair, skin, and eyes rises from beneath the ground, unseen and unheard. The "demon" drifts into the crowded streets with a sway, its slow and sluggish steps leaving imprints of scarlet on the asphalt ground.

Drip. Drip.

The demon sheds its sinful skin. Splotches of red dribble to the ground.

"A-Are you okay?"

The question is asked to the demon by a young woman clad in flowery robes who holds the hand of her younger daughter in her free hand. The woman's expression is that of utmost concern and compassion — it is evident that she does not see the demon for what it truly is. Thus, she reaches forward with a delicate hand to affirm the demon's condition. Her delicate hand, however, never makes its mark. Like the woman's head and legs, it is severed from her torso by a sharp and unseen force.

A sickening crunch slices through the cheerful atmosphere.

An eruption of crimson paints itself into the crowd that surrounds the lacerated woman and the wretched demon. The crimson color also finds itself covering the papery layer of strewn lanterns, coloring them with tiny flecks of red.

The woman's daughter screams loudly with wide eyes, still holding onto her mother's limp hand.

The demon grins a crescent white smile at her, its ruby eyes glowing as it growls in a haunting tone—

"Good morning."

In that instant the crowd disperses, their horrified screams tearing through the night. The daughter, still clinging to her mother's limb, is pushed to the side, tripped, and promptly trampled on by dozens of pounding feet. Her tiny body becomes almost unrecognizable.

The crowd's inhuman feats and attempts of escape are of no use, however. One by one, from left to right, members of the crowd fall to the demon's glee. The same unseen yet sharp force slices and rips their bodies to pieces.

The sparsely armed Military Officers don't even stand a chance.

The splatters of crimson completely coat the once colorful array of lanterns.

When the military arrives several hours later, they are met with a gruesome sight. Almost the entire town is caked from head to toe in scarlet — only the neighborhoods sitting on the very outskirts are left untouched. The scarlet color seems to cling thickly in the air, causing the rising mist to adopt a crimson hue. The mist is thick and tastes of iron.

Once the soldiers enter the area, they are not even able to see their hands in front of their faces. The lanterns scattered along the damp ground are their only source of light — a blood, red light.

It becomes known as The Day of Red Mist and the town as the infamous Red Light District.

The slaughtered Military Officers are never replaced; the town is left tucked away in a corner, unacknowledged and forgotten.

Without the watchful eye of authority, crime soon floods the streets of the renamed District. The whispers and rumors rise again, because the bright red lights that had shone that faithful night can never be forgotten.


[The Red Light District, present time]

Steam rose steadily from the manhole built in front of the large, steel skyscraper. The tall building stood with other buildings of similar stature against the gray backdrop of the sky. In between those steel-framed towers on the asphalt streets and in the shady alleyways walked two different types of people respectively.

The asphalt streets were filled with men and women clad in business suits driving monochrome and odd-looking automobiles. These men and women held a respective yet scrappy air about them. These people were members of the "adult world".

Lounging around and strutting against the spray-painted walls of the alleyways were members of the other half of the District. Those who wandered these areas were dressed in attire that ranged from bright to dull, baggy to tight, and skimpy to layered. This world belonged to the "children".

Now, despite these two different worlds belonging in the same, distinct area, they were regarded as two separate places entirely. The members of the two different worlds never directly interacted or acknowledged each other. They carried on with their lives with recognizing the other world's presence. But that was just on the surface. The truth was hidden deeper.

In a particular dead-end alleyway stood a ring of adolescents. Despite their ranging appearances and stances, they had one thing in common: shining bright in their eyes was a hard, angry, and glaring look.

They whispered spitefully among themselves:

"Another one of our guys — gone! Kidnapped!"

"How many is it now? Four people gone missing?"

"And it was little baby Maya this time too! Whoever has been doing this…"

"What do you mean 'whoever?' It was obviously one of those rich Jersey gang freaks up north! They've been nothin' but trouble for us lately."

"Oh… If only we had actually officers here—"

"That'd do nothin'! The Empire doesn't want anything to do with us!"

"God dammit. Those Jersey asses are probably laughing at us right now and forcing Maya and the others to do horrible shit!"

"We should retaliate or something — I can't stand this."

"Yeah! We should take out some of these guys too; that'd teach 'em."

"Hold up, ya'll!"

The order was shouted with authority, causing all eyes to turn towards the person who had spoken.

A slightly thick dark-skinned adolescent stood staring at them with deep and discontented eyes, hands placed on hips. The adolescent was female, and her full lips were pursed in a disapproving manner. Her head was hidden behind her peach-colored hood, but it was easy to tell by the way several dark-strands fell into her face that her hair was black in color.

Once she held the attention of those around her, she continued:

"You can't go pinning the blame on those Jersey guys," she jerked her thumb backwards in a vague direction, "without any evidence first. What if someone else has been getting our guys?"

"Are you actually defending those jerks, Leshawna?" came an angry retort from a member of the gathered circle.

"I'm not defending anyone." the adolescent replied, sending the one who had spoken a hard glare. "I'm just being reasonable is all." She paused, allowing her gaze to linger on all of those who were a part of the circle for several seconds, before she continued: "Don't get me wrong, I have a couple of bones to pick with those Jersey guys, but our people come first."

Several members of the group glanced at each other, their uncertain looks becoming reaffirmed.

"We need to talk to those Jerseys," Leshawana continued, drawing her hood down to reveal a head of tightly tied-up, coarse, black hair, "to see what their side of the story is. If they even appear the least bit suspicious, well, then," she slammed her balled fist into her open palm with a confident grin, "there is going to be hell to pay!"

A conglomeration of cheers and shouts echoed throughout the alleyway.


[Willowasher Villa, six months earlier]

The rain falls, hard, unrelenting.

The skies from which the raindrops fall are dark and gray with clouds, shutting away the sure-shining sun above like an unwanted curtain. Everything is silent in the shadow of this drawn curtain, save for the cries of the cicadas and the pitter-patter of the rain upon the black asphalt ground.

The large raindrops drum on top of the woman's dark cap in a frenzy; the bill of the woman's cap steadily dribbles a stream of collected water onto her tanned cheek. Just above those wetted cheeks, the woman's hard eyes glare, slicing through the darkness with seemingly glowing irises of amber and gold.

What is she glaring at exactly?

The source of her irritation are the five people who stand before her shivering and wet. They look at her with uncertainty, a hint of fear, and shame. Their expressions, however, make her all the more angrier:

"Why… Are you late?!"

Her shout echoes across the open lot and is swallowed up by the sound of pouring rain. When she doesn't receive an answer, her eyes narrow dangerously and her hand flies to the scabbard that hangs at her waist, cracking it up ever so slightly to reveal a sliver of silver.

"If you don't tell me why you're late right this instant," she approaches them in stomps, her dark boots clopping loudly against the now muddy ground, "I will slice you up like sushi!"

She breathes heavily on the person she now stands in front of: a young woman with bright brown hair.

"I-I," the woman gulps, blinking away the raindrops that fall into her eyes, "I got lost on t-they way. I live on the very outskirts of town—

"That's no excuse!" the black-clad woman shouts at the top of her lungs, fists clenched tightly, hand still on scabbard. She whips her dark head to the right, causing her ponytail to slap the brown-haired woman in the face. "You!" She nods to the dark-skinned adolescent who stands quietly with a cool expression at the very right. "Why were you late? You're excuse better be better than this lady's or I will personally beat you to a pulp!"

The tone in the woman's voice confirms that her threat holds true, yet the dark-skinned boy stares at her and gives her a simple shrug. This is the last straw for the woman, and she storms her way over to where the boy stands, sword fully drawn from its scabbard and pointed squarely at his throat. The boy stares at her with wide-eyed surprise and desperately shakes his head from side to side. This just makes the woman all the more angry and she raises the blade above her hand and brings it down hard.

In the split second before her sword makes contact with the boy's hand, however, a man wearing a white labcoat dashes out from seemingly nowhere and pushes the boy out of his way. The man's labcoat is ripped from his shoulders by the still descending sword and hits the ground. The ground crumbles under the force behind the sword and a ringing sound quickly follows. The sword has broken at its hilt.

"Geeze louise, Eva!" the former-labcoat-wearing man whines as he picks himself up off the ground; he offers a helping hand to the fallen boy. "You can't go around eighty-sixing people!"

"You got in my way!" the woman, Eva, shouts loudly, grabbing the man who had spoken by the scruff.

"I can't let you just kill someone!" the man retorts as he is shaken roughly back and forth. "Anyways that kid might even be a mana-user!"

At this statement, Eva releases the man and allows him to fall on his but on the ground. She glares at him with her amber eyes then at the cowering five bystanders who flinch at her gaze. Turning on her heels, she storms off in the rain, the broken hilt of her sword still in hand.

The man who had been tossed on the ground rises, turns on his own heels, and extends his hand out welcomingly towards the quiet, yet large boy: "The name is Doctor Okarin, and you are?"

The boy doesn't answer, but takes the doctor's hand. The doctor then watches as the boy reaches into his pocket and pulls out an identification card. He hands it to the doctor with a patient expression. Taking it, Okarin reads aloud:

"Beverly Cowle?"

The doctor lowers the identification card to gaze at the boy who is now blushing profusely at the utterance of his real name.

"Well," the doctor huffs loudly, handing the card back to the boy, "you all should come with me; you're a bit late, but we still have time to run some tests." He gestures backwards to a gray tent that has been set up in the distance. "If this is your first time taking this test, I'll explain it to you more when we get there." He begins to walk with the others following him closely behind. "All you need to know right now is that this test is required by the Mana — or Magic — Registration Protocol."


[Sycamore Road, present time]

Cody held up the purple-backed card to the sunlight, peering at it with an open eye:

"So, you all received the same card when you guys were recruited?"

To his left walked Cameron and Zoey and to his right walked Sam. Cameron was currently studying a large laminated map with a thoughtful expression, while Zoey was studying a handful of colorful cards. Sam was toying with a cube of some sort with a perfectly content expression — he was the first to reply:

"Yeah, basically… I think you're supposed to keep it with you at all times to show that you're part of the 'gang'."

Cameron nodded and lowered his map with an uncertain smile, saying: "It's embedded with a special mana-latex, so it can't be copied. It's quite fascinating actually."

Zoey nodded in agreement, before she peered over Cameron's shoulder and studied the colorful map as she pocketed her cards.

"How come the map is moving and stuff?" Zoey questioned, pointing out how the tree-surrounded road on the map kept shifting ever so slightly. "Is it enchanted?"

"Yup!" Cameron nodded with a grin.

"And those seven dots…" Zoey continued, eyebrows slightly furrowed at the group of seven white dots moving along the map.

"Those dots are us!" the glasses-wearing boy nodded; he gestured to the tiny green dots buzzing around the forest area of the map. "Those dots represent animals."

"Wow," Zoey blinked, "that's pretty shnazzy. Your dad has pretty cool stuff, Cody." She continued to study the map.

"Yeah, I guess." Cody shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to hard not to care about her compliment; his eyes drifted to Gwen who walked, arms-crossed, in front of them. He sighed with a loud voice: "If you guys need any other cool things, I'm the guy to ask!" When the boy noticed that Gwen didn't even bat an eye at his comment, he sighed dejectedly.

"Move it, dorks!" came a gruff shout from behind the walking four.

The said four turned their heads just in time to see Duncan bustle forward, shoving Cody and Sam to the ground and out of his way as he approached Gwen's side.

"Hey!" Zoey and Cameron shouted indignantly. The two turned to lend a helping hand to their fallen friends: Zoey extended her hand out to Cody, while Cameron did the same for Sam — Sam, however, mostly had to get up on his hand due to the fact that Cameron had a hard time utilizing his arm strength.

"Are you alright?" Zoey asked with concern.

"Yeah," Cody grimaced, exchanging a look with Sam, before his gaze drifted to Duncan's back; he watched jealously as the delinquent lightly punched Gwen's shoulder, "I just can't believe I actually hugged that jerk a couple of hours ago!"

"He is a jerk sometimes," Zoey agreed, patting Cody on the shoulder with a friendly smile, "but he actually has a sweet side, y'know?"

Cody raised an eyebrow at her, despite the fact that he was internally grinning at the fact that she was touching him.

"Get your hands off of my man!" came a recognizable shout. The entire group paused and watched as Sierra popped out of the bushes on the side of the road and jumped on Cody.

Both Cody and Zoey let out shouts of surprise as Sierra did this; and Zoey quickly dove to the side, removing her hand from Cody's shoulder.

"S-Sierra!" Cody stuttered in indignation, as the female wrapped her body tightly around his own. (He failed to notice a small blue box slip out of his bag.) "What the heck are you doing?!"

"Marking my territory!" Sierra growled as she stroked his head, sending both Gwen and Zoey a glare.

Sam, having noticed the small blue box on the ground, walked over to pick it up with a curious expression: "Hey, what's this?"

"Oh," Cody began to explain as he attempted to break free of Sierra's tight grasp, "that's an app for the Cell Card. It's called the Arc-Word—

"The Arc-Word?!" Sam and Cameron pipped in unison.

"Isn't that the new app that lets you join a chatroom to talk with people all around the world?" Sam asked, his eyes beginning to sparkle with excitement.

Cody nodded, pounding weakly on Sierra's tight-holding arm.

"I heard that it operates using invisible mana-particles floating around the air." Cameron murmured, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he examined the product; he turned to Cody with a curious expression: "How did you even get your hands on this thing? I mean, it's literally in its prototyping stages and only a select few people have access to it!"

"My dad is an underground enchanted items dealer." Cody said pointedly, having given up on freeing himself from Sierra's grasps; he now sat cradled in her arms with a defeated expression — an expression which Duncan laughed loudly at.

"Uhm," Sam tapped his chin, "is it okay if I try it out? I mean...I'll give it back after I'm done!"

"Nah, man," Cody grinned from his awkward position, "you can go ahead and keep it."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, man; think of it as a gift."

"Sweet!"

"Cody," Sierra whined hugging him tighter and nearly causing his eyes to bulge out of his sockets, "did you get me a gift?"

"Putting that aside," Gwen sighed loudly, clearly irritated; she nodded at Cameron, "I remember there being a break in the road a couple miles ahead. I know one of them leads to Willowasher Villa, so we obviously don't want to take that one. Which direction do we go?"

"Well," Cameron murmured, unfolding his map and studying it, "we—

He stopped, eyes wide.

"Cameron," Zoey said slowly as she studied the map alongside him, her voice growing louder with anxiety, "what do those red dots mean? And why are they coming closer and closer to where we are?!"

Duncan whipped his head towards the opposite direction, body tensing and eyes narrowing; in that general direction, his sharp ears picked up a collection of voices:

"Empire soldiers?! Damn... but how… ?"


[Capital City, Military District, Principal Tower, First Platoon's Common Room - several days earlier]

The room resembled an office and a resting area all combined into one. Desks piled on with numerous stacks of paper lined the walls; and every desk was occupied by a person clad in a white, distinct-looking uniform. At the very back of the room was a large window pane that took up almost the entire wall. The windowpane led out to a sun-bathed balcony that was lined with numerous red-velvet chairs. At the center of the room was an ornate rug that seemed to be rather worn out by having been tread on by too many feet. Telling by how the uniform-clad men and women bustled back and forth in the room, the rug would just become all the more worn.

The doors to the room swung open and those shuffling around the room looked up to see three people standing by the doorframe: their orange-haired General and the two new recruits they had been expecting.

"And here we are, friends!" the orange-haired General shouted loudly, patting the two surprised-looking people on either side of her. "Your common room! Oh, by the way, don't drink any of the water at the fountain." She turned, whispering to the boy who stood stiff on her left: "They have mind-control chips in the water-systems here; don't let them get to you! Haha!"

With that, the black-cad General somersaulted back out of the door and disappeared in the distance. The recruits were left standing behind, slightly confused expressions etched onto their faces. The female recruit was, however, the first to recover and sized up the room with a considering frown.

The uniform-clad men and women quickly returned to what they were doing, leaving the two recruits to themselves.

The male recruit coughed loudly, gaining the female's attention:

"Well, Jo," he extended a hand, "it's good to see someone as skilled as me make it to one of the General's Platoons."

The female recruit scoffed at the gesture and took the male's hand in hers, tightening her grip until she heard a cracking noise:

"What do you mean 'as good as'? I'm better than you, Brick!"

"Hey!" Brick winced, yanking his hand out of Jo's grip and rubbing it with teary eyes. "I was just trying to be nice!"

"Well, if you're too nice," Jo grinned mockingly approaching him face-to-face, "I'll crush you."

Brick glared back at her and prepared to retort when the sound of rubber rolling against a hollow surface cut him off short. The two recruits turned and blinked in surprise as a white-clad girl riding on a skateboard skidded to a stop before them.

The girl had deep-blue eyes and a freckled face that was framed by wavy, dirty-blonde hair. Her hair was streaked with a blue hue that matched at her eyes. Her uniform, however, was what caught the recruits' attention, not the fact that she was riding a skateboard — although that in itself was pretty strange — : the uniform was white like many of the others they had seen, but a single silver band had been woven onto the left and right sides of her chest. The band reached from the back of her uniform all the way to the front.

"I'm Second Lieutenant Harley Tyler." the girl introduced, extending a hand outwards towards the two recruits with an easygoing smile. "I see the General has gone off somewhere again."

Jo stared at the girl's extended hand with crossed arms and a contempt frown:

"Second Lieutenant, huh?"

"Yeah." the girl replied, raising a slender eyebrow at her. She lowered her hand ever so slightly, but was quickly stopped as Brick accepted her handshake.

"Nice to you meet you, Second Lieutenant." Brick greeted with a grin; he paused to salute her, causing her to raise an eyebrow again in turn: "Graduate and Recruit Brick McArthur here!" He nodded in Jo's direction, "This is Jo."

"Well," the Second Lieutenant rubbed the back of her head and jerked her hand towards the back of the room, "your new uniforms are in the back… I assume that the General hasn't told you about the reception party that's being held in a couple of days?"

"A reception party?" Jo's frown deepened. "What for?"

"For the graduates of the academy of course." Harley replied, hand on hip; shrugging her shoulders, she gestured to the door. "After you two get changed, I'll give you a tour of the place — hopefully we don't run into Eva; on the other hand, seeing Mal off before he leaves on his mission won't be too bad."

"Mal?"

Jo and Brick exchanged uncertain looks.


[Arc-Word Chatroom, unknown time]

The Queen: So are any of you losers going to that big graduation reception party?

CIT: Yeah, actually. I've been cordially invited.

CIT: Calling us "losers" is totally uncalled for by the way.

Honor: Yes, I am actually. I have been personally invited as well. And as always, The Queen, you're vocabulary for insults is wonderous.

Mech: i can't… D:. i don't live in Capital City.

PRISS: Yup, I'm going; you'll probably recognize me instantly when I get there!

MeisterH: Neither do I. I don't really enjoy parties anyways. It doesn't go well with my mojo.

Remehcs: I'm not really interested in parties, but if anything happens, be sure to tell me~!

Funster: aw, man, i can't come either. don't live in capital city or anywhere near it.

The Queen: Great, so half of the people on here are total losers who don't even live in Capital City? I don't even know why I'm talking to you all. How did you poor people even get your hands on the Arc-Word anyways?

CIT: I don't know why you talk to us either….

MeisterH: Gosh, is "losers" your favorite word or something?

Remehcs: On a different note, have you guys heard anything about that one General being sent out to hunt down the rebels? o_o So scary~!

MeisterH: The Generals aren't scary at all! I could totally take them on!

The Queen: Yeah, have fun being killed, Meister.

CIT: The Empire really needs better security about the missions they put the Generals on...

PRISS: Totes agree!

Honor: I disagree…

Remehcs: Huh, why's that? ;o

Funster: Yeah, they kinda tip of those rebels group with the way they practically hand out information

Honor: That's where you're wrong. The Empire chooses what information they allow to circulate. They only allowed the information about that General's hunt to get out because it would spook the rebels.

MeisterH: I highly doubt the rebels would be spooked because of that!

The Queen: Well, whatever, I have to go. I'll see you losers later or something… or not.

The Queen has left the chatroom.

Remehcs: I've actually got to go too! It seems like something noteworthy is happening at home… ;o

Remehcs has left the chatroom.

Funster: same here, dudes. see ya.

Funster has left the chatroom.

Honor: I must bid you all farewell too.

Honor has left the chatroom.

MeisterH: I guess it's just us four then, huh?

CIT: I've actually got to go too.

CIT has left the chatroom.

PRISS: same here!

PRISS has left the chatroom.

Mech: I might as well go too!

Mech has left the chatroom.

MeisterH: Aw, man…

MeisterH has left the chatroom.

The chatroom is empty.


A/N: Many apologies for the late chappie! I was feeling kind of sick today… Nonetheless, here we have a brand new and slightly lengthy story arc and cover! What did you think of it? What did you think of the Arc-Word chat? I mostly added that to the story to help move the plot along and help some of the more distant characters interact…

Can you guess who is who?

Anyways, a lot of you guys asked for the same character and most of those said characters appear in this arc (Leshawna and B), while the others will appear in the very next arc.

The reader's choice was very close last chapter, and if Dawn had gone left instead of right, we would have entered a slightly happier and Scott/Ezekiel-oriented arc… but meh. Let the darkness begin! /cue evil thunder and laugh.

I'm still accepting OCs btw (I'll probably end up using all of them, lol). If you think I'm writing your OC, well, ooc, just pm me!

Reader's Choice (2):

Dawn should meet _

A. The Jerseys (Anne Marie's gang)

B. Leshawna's gang

C. neither; observe, investigate

The Rebels should…

A. Run and hide

B. Attack and risk capture

C. other