The beacon flashed rapidly and the buzzing intensified.

"This is it?"

"This is it."

The two asura stood in front of a large shack in Gendarran Fields. The moon was high in the air, and cows were quietly sleeping nearby.

"Underground lair no doubt," Zojja said.

"I'll go first," Batanga went ahead, quietly breaking the lock on the shack.

Inside, was nothing. Well, nothing out of the ordinary for a shack. Some garden tools, a sack of fertilizer, some seed pouches. The homing beacon was flickering faster than ever, and the noise it was emitting rose. Batanga was inspecting everything, running her hands along the shack's walls and picking up items.

"Ah HA!" Batanga's investigating paid off, and she pressed a small, green button concealed by a flower-pot. The ground beneath them lurched, and a steel door closed behind them. Zojja felt them descend downwards. A cleverly disguised elevator.

Zojja tapped her toe impatiently, a scowl on her face. She was going to destroy Rypp, and had several ideas all worked out, each nastier than the last. As they descended, she wondered if she should make a back up of Mr. Sparkles. Zojja knew she could take care of herself, but she had no idea what she was getting into, and having a bit of arcane-tech back up couldn't hurt. Maybe something smaller and more compact to contrast with Mr. Sparkles? Wasn't Tippa working on micro golems? Thinking about her back at that bordello, a dullard, enraged Zojja even more.

"We're slowing down. Get ready, there's no way to know what we'll face," Batanga warned.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Zojja nodded. Using the elevator was a dead giveaway to Rypp that someone was coming. She readied her dagger and focus, while Batanga held her own weapons firmly.

The elevator stopped, and the door slowly slid open. A large room was before them, filled with various parts and unused crystals. Unmarked boxes and plants under dim white lights lined the left side. There was a door at the far end and on the right.

"Let's split up," Zojja suggested. "I'll go ahead, you take the door to the right."

Batanga nodded, and the two went their separate ways.


Zojja carefully made her way through the facility. Years of infiltrating and destroying Inquest bases came in handy in these kind of situations. She avoided securi-cams and traps with ease, but she couldn't let her guard down. Rypp had to know she was here, and Zojja noticed that the layout was definitely leading her in a singular direction. Only one exit in each room she went through, and she wondered why he even bothered, a straight hall would've done the same without all the hassle of having to hack the doors.

The door she was now in front of was different. It was larger and heavier than the earlier ones she entered, with glowing red alchemy symbols on it. No doubt behind this room was "the final showdown". Villains and their penchant for drama always annoyed her.

Zojja calmly hacked the panel beside the door and watched as it slid open. She knew she was walking straight into a trap, but what choice did she have? Tippa was counting on her. Preparing herself, she strode through with head held high.

The room was dark, but her eyes quickly adjusted as she scanned the room. A bright spotlight hit her, blinding her for a moment.

"Zojja," Rypp greeted her with a sneer. She couldn't see him, but she was positive that was his voice.

"Rypp," she replied. "Listen, I don't have a lot of time, so let's cut the witty banter and just fight."

"Oh? The great Zojja doesn't want to converse? You wound me," he said feigning hurt. "Too bad."

More lights came on, flooding the room with a harsh bright light. The room was a large hexagon, and looked quite a lot like any standard asuran lab. Various symbols and hexagons glowed on the wall, with interfaces running calculations flying by too fast for her to catch. Rypp was on the opposite end of the room, with a turret on either side of him. Behind him was a large door, pulsating with energy, engraved with various alchemy symbols like the one she entered. As usual she was right. Villains and their silly theatrics.

"Are you ready now?" Zojja sighed with a roll of her eyes.

Rypp cocked his head to the side. "You don't think I'm dangerous," he said.

"Your plan was dumb and poorly executed. I survived your explosion, and even if you had successfully poisoned me, it doesn't last without constant dosage," Zojja snarled. "There's no way you could keep it up."

"You've got more enemies in more places than you think," Rypp smirked. "How do you think I retrieved your old friend?"

The door behind him opened, with great fanfare. A light fog crept out, obscuring a large silhouette. As it came closer, she recognized the golem.

"Mr. Sparkles!" cried Zojja. A traitor, or more, in her krewe! Zojja prided herself on being able to weed out the Inquest spies and rivals. There's no conceivable way she could let the aforementioned asura into her krewe. Maybe Rypp preyed on her current krewe's insecurities and got them to turn on her. Neither of these thoughts sat well with her. She'd deal with it later.

"Execute prime directive!" she snapped at the golem. The "prime directive" was keeping her safe at all costs. It was an automatic override for any and all actions Mr. Sparkles would execute, a failsafe reboot.

No response. The golem, with its former blue lights glowing a dim red continued to walk forward until it stopped beside Rypp.

"Mr. Sparkles," Rypp said triumphantly. "What's your prime directive?"

"Subjugation-and-eradication-of-idiot-and-failure- to-asura-everywhere, Zojja," the golem droned.

"Your safety protocols aren't as genius as you like to believe," Rypp sneered.

Zojja ground her teeth. "I'm going to tear you in half with my bare hands for touching my golem!"

"Your bare hands are all you've got to defend yourself with," he smiled. "Mr. Sparkles, execute prime directive."