Two hundred and twenty nine casualties and some thousand bullets later, Sanford, Deimos, and their two suited escorts scan the now-silent Floor 82.

"For random bodyguards we jus' met like, fuckin' ten minutes ago, you're fuckin' good," Sanford laughs shortly, tossing his empty 5.56x45 magazine and popping a new one in. "Who're you, exactly? If you're even allowed to answer that?"

One of the suited men, who has lost his pair of shades during one of their firefights, turns to Sanford. "All we're authorized to tell you is that we are part of the Black Ops team, but I'm sure you can connect the dots from there."

While Sanford looks at him blankly, Deimos blinks in surprise. "You're from Black Ops? What the hell, I thought they were decommissioned a long time ago. Are you saying that the government revived it on executive order?"

The other suited man checks the remaining ammunition on his belt. "For all practical purposes and intents, it remains decommissioned," he replies. "Best we keep it that way, too, so take care to not blab it to other people, 'mkay? C'mon, our package's in the room up ahead, 'n we can get the fuck out."

Sanford pulls back the bolt on his assault rifle and watches it screech against the metal of the chambered bullet with a satisfying chrik! "I hope you realize there's somethin' real fuckin' wrong right now. Our info said that there'd be some resistance in that room, but I didn't hear jack diddly squat from inside ever since we wasted all these guys," he nods towards the dead people littering the room who are also wearing business suits and tuxedos. "So why's that? Anyone know?"

"Scared shitless, maybe?" the suited man without the shades suggests, readying an enemy MP5A5 that he stole from a dead enemy some floors back after expending all his pistol ammo.

"Doubt it," Sanford mutters, now walking towards the final room of the floor. "Something ain't right. And we're 'bout ta find out."

Deimos hurries after him, and the two men in suits flank them, drawing up the sights of their weapons onto the double mahogany doors. Sanford fires three shots to knock off the locked handles and kicks open the doors with his right boot, yelling "Breaching, breaching!" Deimos and the two flanking operatives immediately dash into the room and sweep the ends of their gun barrels around the room.

"Clear," Deimos shouts, and the bodyguard to his left quickly opens a closet in the corner of the room, shining the tactical flashlight mounted underneath his Five-seveN inside.

"Clear," he yells, and the other bodyguard checks behind the curtains, giving the same message.

"It's all clear. No one's here –" he stops himself short when he looks down at the ground behind the intricately carved wooden meeting table. "…er, scratch that. You might wanna have a look at this."

Sanford, Deimos, and the other operative walk behind the table. Sanford whistles at what he sees. "So that's why I didn't hear jack shit in here."

A middle-aged man with a goatee, dressed neatly in a white tuxedo, is missing the upper half of his head. Blood and brain are splattered all over the carpet and the curtain and window behind his body, but there is no sign of the murder weapon. Only an Beretta M9, its slide locked back with fifteen shell casings littered around the owner's body, lies in his hand, indicating a sign of resistance.

"Well, at least the poor bastard went out hard," the shaded operative mutters. "Either way, makes our job at least a bit easier."

"If we can even find our fuckin' package," Deimos growls, obviously pissed that things did not go according to plan. "I don't suppose any of you know where our package is, now?"

The men look around. Indeed, the briefcase of serenity jewels that they were told was supposed to be on the table for them to snatch is absent.

"Well…fuck," Sanford sighs. "It's not like this room has much ta hide. Someone got here before us, 'n in a way that didn't tip off everyone else in this damn skyscraper."

"But that's damn near impossible," the guard without shades responds, sitting on the table with his submachine gun still gripped firmly in his right hand. "We analyzed this building's structure prior to this op. There's only one way here to this room, and we just used it."

"How reliable was your source?" the other suited bodyguard inquires.

"Whaddya mean, how reliable? It came straight from our fuckin' department, dipshit!" Sanford harshly replies. "She never fucks it up when it comes to mission profile info. I really don't think it's Lauren's fault."

"Chill, dude, I wasn't trying to point fingers at anybody," the bodyguard responds calmly. "So now then, exactly the hell do we do now?"

Deimos, who has been using the time to search for any secret compartments in the room that might have enough space to hold a briefcase full of jewels, emerges from underneath the table. "No dice," he says, picking up his rifle again off the floor. "All we got is a dead dude and no briefcase to show for it."

"No idea what the fuck happened to him, either," the operative with the MP5A5 murmurs.

Deimos flips down his mic. "Deimos to HQ, package is MIA, repeat, assigned package is MIA. Requesting further orders."

"Deimos, this is HQ, we copy. Sitrep."

"Priority target found murdered from unknown reasons, was like that when we got here. Showed signs of resistance, but room is untouched."

"Describe casualty's wounds."

"Head half-decapped, nothing else."

"Acknowledged. Exfil is ETA two minutes."

"Lemme ask you guys, either of you ever base-jump a heli?" Sanford asks as he and Deimos move the table out of the way to the side of the room.

"Base-jumping a chopper? You mean jump off a building and land in it? Sounds like something we'd do," the operative with the shades says, watching the Seal team members.

"But you've never actually done it."

"I presume that's how we're getting' our exfil?"

"There's always a first for everythin', even for you vets," Sanford smirks.

Then, suddenly, particularly loud static electricity is heard zapping away at something in the room.

"The guy! What's happening to him? !" the operative closest to the man with the half-head exclaims while drawing his pistol at the body. The other men scramble to see what is going on.

The man whose head is cleanly sliced in two jolts this way and that, vectors of electricity sparking out from his body. His limbs flop up and down sickeningly, like a fish out of water. Sanford raises the sight on his gun and lines up the shot, but Deimos quickly puts his hand on the barrel and forces it down to the ground.

"We need to know what's going on! Don't shoot him!" he hisses.

"I'd rather put 'im down fer good when we have the chance!" Sanford hisses back.

"But this dude just got his head cut in half! You think a bullet's gonna do much else? ! Just wait!" Deimos counters, keeping his eyes fixated on the flailing body that behaves like it is undergoing a seizure.

"I dunno, man, I'm kinda with your buddy there," the operative with the sunglasses clenches his teeth, pointing his Five-seveN at the dead man as well. "Either this is some sorta sick sci-fi shit we ain't seen before, 'r God's gonna send me to hell."

Then, the static stops. The man's eyes snap open, but there are no pupils that are normally present in a pair of human eyes – only the whites show. The man stands unsteadily, making no noise, and wobbles slightly to gain balance. The men surrounding him step away from him slowly but do not break eye contact or line of fire.

"QIOWQIOFIONKL:SDNKL:NKLNSDLNKEENWKNFWQNFPOIJQWPFJSDPMFKLMSDMMLAWKLN! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !"

The undead man screams incomprehensively, genuinely frightening one of the suited operatives.

"W-What the fuck? ! Let's just shoot that thing, holy shit! ! !" he screams, his grip on his submachine gun faltering.

"Stand by, stand by! We need to know what it does! We see this now, chances are we'll see it again!" Deimos bellows, drowning out the voice of the submachine gunner. "Don't fire until it attacks!"

"Well, fuck! How do we know when it'll come at us, then! ?" Sanford growls, but then, a transparent black fire explodes, lighting the undead man's head with the fire.

"Uhhh, you sure we still shouldn't light that motherfucker up?" the other operative asks, almost whispering under his breath, unable to understand what he sees. "What in bloody mother of Jesus's name is up with that guy?"

"Sanford, you feel that?" Deimos calls to Sanford. "It's fuckin' magic."

"Ohhhh yeah. That's magic, alright," Sanford shudders slightly. "And it feels fuckin' ugly. Real ugly."

"The bloody shit you talking 'bout magic for?" the man with the MP5A5 yells. "This what they call fuckin' black magic? 'K, fuck that crap!"

"NO, YOU –"

But before Deimos can stop him, the operative pulls the trigger and holds it, spraying his entire magazine of 9mm Parabellum rounds into the undead man's head. The bullets tear what is left of the skull and brain to mere bits and pieces of blood and flesh and bone, and the body collapses through the glass windows behind it, which were pierced by the submachine gun's bullets. Deimos rushes over to the window, watching the tattered body fall to the ground, but the black fire that swallowed the man's head now engulfs his entire body. The ashes scatter into the high-altitude winds even before the body can fall past half the skyscraper's height.

"Are you –" Deimos does not feel that it is worth his effort finishing the sentence and simply roars in frustration instead. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR? WE NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT THAT THING DOES FOR FUTURE REFERENCE! AND YOU GO OFF 'N KILL THE THING? !"

"Hey, fuck you, asshole, I dunno 'bout you fuckin' Seals, but I got family back home that I need to take care of, 'n I'm not about to lose my godforsaken life to some fuckin' zombie bullshit or whatever the fuck that was!" the operative with the SMG roars back, reloading his weapon. "You wanna study 'em? Then go find another one without us! You said it yourself, dude! They'll come back! So go off 'n chase 'em all ya want, just don't fuckin' drag me into that shit!" The MP5A5 smokes beside him like the words sizzling off the tip of his tongue.

"Wise choice, valuing your life. Even more so, for the sake of your family. Truly touching, isn't it."

The four men in the room swing towards the direction of the foreign voice, all raising their weapons again towards the doors. Sanford's jaw drops, and Deimos immediately whispers very quietly for only his teammates to hear, "Near the glass. Now."

A young man, seemingly in his late teens, even, walks slowly towards them from the bloodstained hallway. He wears a neat white winter coat and heavy gray jeans, winter boots, and a black beanie. His bangs cover his eyes from being seen as he approaches the armed men, who inch towards the broken glass.

"Hey, why are you stepping away from me? It's not like I'll do anything. Other than make that man my bitch."

"What the fuck do you want? Did you take the briefcase we were after?" Deimos demands, his finger itching to press the trigger of his G36-KE.

"I won't lie to you. Yes, I did take that briefcase. It seems that unfortunately for you, our interests clashed. And I know just how much your people hate me meddling in your affairs, don't you?" the young man snickers.

"Dude, who's this motherfucker?" the operative in the shades hisses, but Sanford waves at him quickly to get him to shut up as Deimos keeps talking.

"Then where is it? Why isn't it here?"

"Why isn't it here?" the young man repeats incredulously. "Whatever do you mean, 'why isn't it here'? I took it. Even a toddler can see that through simple logic. Why ask the obvious?"

"Because it's not so obvious how you managed to slip into a fucking skyscraper full of bodyguards, assassinate the head of the S.C.B., and take the package, all without alerting anybody," Deimos returns.

"And so? What of it?" the young man stops at the doorframe. "I operate on the same terms as you do. Take what I want, get what I need, and kill anyone in my way. I don't suppose you're not too different, no?"

"Probably not, but we don't make an effort to scare people shitless with the kinda stuff you're capable of. Who the fuck are you, anyway?"

The young man now has his hands on the ends of the barrels of Sanford's and Deimos' rifles. The silenced muzzles are bent upwards at perfect ninety degree angles. The two men whose weapons have now been rendered useless only have the reaction to see out of their peripherals the eyes of their strange enemy, eyes whose pupils are depicted only with perfect diamonds surrounding tightly-knotted triquetras that slowly turn clockwise like gears of a machine.

"Someone you probably shouldn't try to fuck with. It seems you do not have what I am looking for, luckily for you, so there is no point for me to kill you all right now. I could actually just force that information out of your brains if I wanted to, but there's no fun in that, is there?"

With surprisingly little effort, the boy in the white coat flings away the damaged assault rifles over his shoulders, points his index fingers at the operatives' weapons just before they can shoot, and the Five-seveN and the MP5 both burst into black flames.

"But you are right about one thing. This won't be the last time you've seen my creations. I've worked on them for a long time, so it'll insult me if you at least don't half-ass your efforts against them, 'mkay? Or maybe you do not care, it is fine either way." he laughs in a way that sounds jovial but drenches everyone in the room with chills. "Oh, and I should tell you…"

He snaps his fingers, and instantly, explosions shake the top floors of the skyscrapers.

"That's sixty canisters of cyclosarin gas I just detonated. I hope this place doesn't have any fire hazards, because that would just suck, wouldn't it?"

His eerie chuckles fades away like his body, as it simply bleeds into thin air out of view. The blades of a helicopter can be heard rapidly approaching them.

"Tch…! We'll deal with his shit later, we gotta get off this shithole!" Sanford yells, snapping everyone to back to focus. "Our ride's here, jump, JUMP! ! !"

A UH-1H helicopter descends just in time that Sanford and Deimos, who have immediately barged through the broken glass to get off the skyscraper, grab hold of the landing skids before plunging to the streets below.

"C'mon, you said you got family, right? Then don't fuckin' stand there 'n drink fuckin' gas!" Sanford hollers at the two operatives who have hesitated but now obey, grabbing hold of the railings as well, as Sanford and Deimos help them up.

"He might still be around, so I want both of you to man the MG's!" Deimos practically yells in the suited men's faces, and he slams the pilot's seat with his fist. "Go, they blew fuckin' chemical weapons up there, get out! Get the fuck out! Go, go! ! ! !"

The pilot hastily yanks his vehicle back into movement, and the Huey flies away as if frantically. Deimos thumbs his mic. "HQ, this is Deimos! We have a situation!"

"HQ copies, what's the situation?"

"We have a chemical attack in downtown Seattle! Evacuate all civilians from the vicinity of our designated mission profile and have the local police lock down the situation! Repeat, we –"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The men in the chopper, including the pilot, look behind them to see what the explosion was about. The top of the skyscraper is now on fire, a fire that is bright enough to act like a West Coast version of the Statue of Liberty.

"Oh fuck, the gas just caught fire!" Sanford yells urgently, and Deimos continues.

"Deimos to HQ, we have confirmed visual that cyclosarin gas is now spreading throughout the city! Evacuate everyone! ! ! ! NOW! ! ! !"

"HQ copies. Section, this is HQ, reference number SP-358-000191! Chemical attack currently in progress in Seattle, Washington! Main agent allegedly to be cyclosarin gas! Dispatch all available military personnel in the area immediately! Deimos, you read me?"

"Yeah, what? !"

"That man you all saw before jumping on the chopper. Did you identify him?"

"Which one, the guy who got screwed or the guy who just screwed us all? !"

"The latter."

"Yeah. No doubt 'bout it. That's fuckin' Auditor!"

Losira is sitting on the hastily repaired red archway that sits at the foot of the shrine grounds, at the top of a set of stone stairs. She is gazing at the moon, waving her feet back and forth.

"'Sup."

A light patting of feet lands next to her, and Reimu takes a seat next to Losira on top of the arch. "Have you been sitting out here this entire time?"

"After dinner, yeah. So? What'd they say?"

"Right now, the servants will be coming back with us to the outside," Reimu says, handing Losira a small cup and pouring her some sake from a bottle. "That includes Sakuya, Youmu, Ran, Chen, Udonge, and Nazrin, for now. They'll arrive tomorrow morning."

"That it, then?" Losira sips her sake.

"I'm not sure. Maybe the rest will follow…who knows. But we've got ourselves quite the group."

"Jus' 'cause we got a lot of people doesn't mean we'll be any stronger, you do realize."

"But you can't deny it'll increase our chances just by having more manpower available. Besides, you were the one who suggested to me to bring along friends and more people."

Losira downs the cup's contents. "Yeah, I did…I certainly did…"

They sit, drinking in silence and watching the moon and the stars.

"Hey, y'know…" Losira begins.

"Hm?"

"You notice that back on Earth, you couldn't see the stars 'n the night sky?"

"…yeah…I noticed…"

"You know why that is?"

"…no, not really…I didn't even remember until you mentioned it."

"It's light pollution. The electric lights that we humans generate on Earth in our cities and urban areas get to a point where their rays block out the light that comes from the stars all around Earth, within the Milky Way and even from surrounding galaxies."

Losira drinks some more sake.

"It's the only form of pollution that serenity hasn't been able to solve, because we've only been using for vehicular fuel, but not as an electrical source because we don't know how yet."

"Uh-huh…"

"…I dunno…it got me thinking one day…"

"…well…thinking what?"

"…I might sound a lil' weird, but…to me, it's like…how should I put it…"

Losira sighs.

"The way I see it, the light pollution that I referred to kinda symbolizes people's happiness, or happiness in general, whatever. One light is the happiness of one person, y'know? You get a group of 'em together, and you got a group of happy people. They're all happy, everything's fine 'n dandy. But the happiness that they radiate becomes so great that it starts blocking out the happiness of others. Do you follow…?"

"…kinda…" Reimu exhales deeply. "You're saying that the happiness that people have prevents others from seeing the happiness that they could have in the future…or something like that…?"

"…maybe…" Losira mutters. "All I know is that the fact that someone else's happiness or hope 's being deleted by other people's really fucking pisses me off."

They sit in silence again.

"Ne, is it okay if I ask you something?" Reimu breaks the silence this time.

"…sure, go ahead…?"

"I'm sure you're tired of hearing this too, but why are we so similar? I just can't stop thinking about it…it's been bothering me ever since I realized it…"

Losira sighs exasperatedly. "Oh, not this shit again –"

"No, seriously, Losira. I was talking to Yukari about this earlier today, and she told me that people called 'existential counterparts' exist, where people with extremely similar skills, concepts, or appearances are related to each other across dimensions or worlds somehow. You don't at least think we're that, do you?"

"Even better of a question, Reimu, why does that even fuckin' matter?" Losira returns. "What kinda significance does that have? Clearly we're not the same soul or mind. We're two separate people. And unless we do some Dragonball shit where we do some damn ta-ta dance and…what was it called again? Fusion – something, fuck it, I don't remember…anyways, we're not the same person. You know that, I know that. Yeah sure, fine, we can pass for twins, but beyond that, our powers aren't even the same."

"What do you mean, not the same? Your eyes were yin-yang! Even the one on your eyepatch moved! Why's that? You said it was only decoration!"

Losira readjusts her eyepatch. "…don't blame me for that. I didn't expect that either – I'm pretty sure it only does that shit when I'm here in Gensokyou. And even then, the shit we can do are so different that you'd need to be really fuckin' high off paint thinner to think that. Shit, wait, it's not that hard to get high off paint thinner, is it…?"

She turns to the shrine maiden.

"But like, what's with you? Normally you don't give a shit 'bout this crap, why now?"

Reimu pours herself another cup. "To make sure I'm not getting bs'd along the way…"

Losira rubs her face with her palm. "…what're you even talking about…."

"Okay, look, I just wanna get this incident resolved and over with with as least problems as possible," Reimu groans. "I really don't want to be knee-deep in this shit and find out that you're some sort of clone of mine or something weird like that and have to deal with that too."

Losira snickers loudly. "Yeah…sure…clone…pff…"

She then deftly snatches the sake bottle out of Reimu's hands, and before the miko can stop her, Losira chugs the rest of the sake down.

"Pu-aaaaaahh! I haven't chugged fuckin' alcohol like that in ages…guess there's time enough for everythin'."

"You – what the crap, that was my last bottle!"

"I'll freakin' pay for another, you cheapskate, don't get yer jimmies all rustled now," Losira retorts, "if only I knew what the currency here was. Hey, here's a question for you then. If I left some sake in the bottle and told you to drink it, would you? I mean, you seem to be supporting then notion that we're the same person, or some shit, whether we know it or not. If that's the case, then you'd have no problem drinkin' straight from that bottle since it wouldn't matter, no?"

"That's a terrible example to use…"

Yukari's voice suddenly interjects between them, as if gapped in from above.

"Girls, our additional party members have arrived. Come, you must brief them."

Losira stands up, exhaling deeply. "Reimu, right now I got bigger responsibilities than ta worry 'bout whether 'r not we're both the same person. 'N I'ma tell ya right now, if it turns out that we're some crazy pair 'a twins or some shit, I honestly wouldn't care. It's cool, but it ain't somethin' that's gonna change my life ferever, y'know? Maybe you got time 'n effort left ta think 'bout that. But I don't."

And before Reimu can say another word, Losira lets her body fall backwards, backflipping straight into a gap behind her and lands upright perfectly back in the shrine living room, where Sakuya, Youmu, Ran, Chen, Udonge, and Nazrin are present, having been sent by their respective masters.

"Nya? !" Chen cries out in surprise as Losira nearly lands on one of her two tails and scampers away to her mother Ran.

"Ah, sorry 'bout that," Losira apologizes lazily, and she faces the designated team. "This everyone, Yukari?"

"Yes. Allow me to introduce them quickly, and I will let you begin their 'training', so to say..." Yukari begins from left to right.

"Izayoi Sakuya, servant of the vampire Remilia Scarlet and head maid of her residence, the Scarlet Devil Mansion."

Sakuya bows deeply to Losira.

"Konpaku Youmu, servant and gardener of Hakugyokurou and Saigyouji Yuyuko."

Youmu also bows, her two swords clinking against each other.

"Yakumo Ran, my shikigami, and her shikigami, Chen."

Ran nods and Chen waves hesitantly, the memory of Losira nearly slamming on her tail with her feet still vivid in her mind.

"Reisen Udongein Inaba, servant of the Lunarian doctor Yagokoro Eirin."

Udonge curtsies.

"And Nazrin, servant of Toramaru Shou, one of the representatives of the local Buddhist temple."

Nazrin does nothing.

"So in total, we got..." Losira counts the people. "Eleven people total? Am I missin' anybody?"

"Nope, that's eleven," Reimu confirms.

"Mkay. Oh, 'n where's Maribel 'n Renko?"

"In the back. I asked them to help set up the stuff after dinner, so they should still be back there."

"Good." Losira then speaks to the sukima youkai. "Yukari, can you go join them too? Just so you can help these guys with the training, it'll get done quicker."

Yukari nods and heads for the back of the shrine to join her daughter and her daughter's best friend, and Losira turns again to face her new recruits.

"Everyone's been briefed already, right? Like, what's happenin' and shit?"

They all nod.

"Alright, makes my life easier."

Losira pulls out her M1911.

"Gonna go fast here, so try ta keep up. This is a gun, 'mkay? It does something like this."

She aims up at the ceiling, flicks off the safety, and pulls the trigger.

BLAAAAAAAAM!

"Goddamn it, Reimu, calm the fuck down, I told you I'm only firing blanks!" Losira barks at the shrine maiden, who has whipped out her gohei in case of an emergency. Her observers display a wide range of various emotions.

Sakuya looks slightly startled and confused.

Youmu appears genuinely frightened.

Ran also displays slight shock at the loud report of the gun.

Chen is whimpering, cowering behind Ran.

Udonge shows deep interest and curiosity.

Nazrin does nothing.

"So now you know what it does, lemme explain the finer details. These things are what humans use on Earth - or, as y'all say, the 'outside' - to kill each other. It's the most efficient 'n practical way to murder, so for now, this's what we'll use for the time being. I want you all to get comfortable usin' these things within a few hours. We've got targets set up in the back for you, and once we grab some sleep for tonight, we'll be heading out there 'n see what we can find. Any questions, ask me, Reimu, Yukari, or the two other girls who came with us." Losira packs away her pistol and leads them out of the living room.

"You fucking met Auditor?" Big says, visibly horrified as he and Chuck, having been sent by Lauren to help with the situation unfolding in downtown Seattle, hop off the sides of an AH-6 Overwatch helicopter at Selah Airstrip of the Yakima Training Facility. They are greeted by their comrades Sanford and Deimos, who had been flown to this base after the gas attack.

"Hell yeah, dude. Not too sure why we're still standin' here, but here we are, eh?" Sanford replies as the four men climb into an armored Humvee to drive back to the base's headquarters. "Here, I'll drive."

"What is situation?" Chuck sharply asks as they pile in, Sanford in the driver's, Deimos in shotgun, Chuck in the back, and Big straight to the mounted M2 machine gun.

"I'll give you the full analysis Seal Team 2 managed to put together when we get to base," Deimos says as Sanford revs up the Humvee's engine to drive them back to the base's main control tower. "But for now, just know that downtown Seattle's basically a ghost town. Cyclosarin gas isn't some chicken pox, it'll fuck entire cities up if you're not careful."

"Hey, well, I doubt terrorists or the A.A.H.W. guys hardly care for 'safety', eh?" Big chuckles bitterly. "Fuckers."

"This ain't a terrorist we're dealin' with, and you of all peoples should know that, bro," Sanford calls out to him. "At least, not a normal one. And why're ya on the fuckin' Ma Deuce? This Humvee's fuckin' old, none of us even know when that shit's been mounted!"

"Lay off my dick, dude, I prefer if someone's on the turret. Never know what's gonna happen."

"You're fuckin' Chinese, bro!"

"Even worse for you."

The Humvee rolls on.

"The Feds evacuated everyone outta the city. It's not some nuclear explosion or anything, so they just quarantined the downtown part of the city, since the gas can't reach the outskirts or the suburbs," Deimos continues. "For now, the situation's under control. We got boys with hazmat suits down there cleaning the shit up, and depending on weather 'n other shit, they should have it wrapped up within a week."

"But I hear cyclosarin take long time to clean," Chuck says. "Why only one week?"

"The Feds've taken quite the liking to our little serenity project," Deimos responds. "You remember when they sent FBIs to our HQ in Berlin? They requested access to some of the Beta Blocks we snagged up over there, when Losira was trackin' that one German asshole who turned out to be a damn Neo-Nazi. Looks like they used it for somethin' good for once."

"They use serenity to make anti-WMD equipment?" Chuck asks, surprised. "Wow. Such research."

"Much usage," says Big.

"Many gas masks," laughs Sanford.

"Wow," finishes Deimos, and they all howl with laughter together as Sanford pilots the vehicle into the hanger nearest to the control tower and kills the engine.

"But in all seriousness," Deimos continues after everyone has had his fair share of laughs, "this's the biggest attack of any kind on American soil since 9-11. Sixty canisters of cyclosarin gas's scared the shit outta the Feds, so they've got us on Defcon 2. You shoulda seen the city a few hours ago, fuckin' airspace fulla choppers 'n shit huntin' that Auditor motherfucker down."

"But surely he ain't still lurkin', is he?" Big asks. "His name's literally on the fucking U.N. hit list as one of the most dangerous men in the world. For good reason, obviously. So I don't really see a point in him sticking around these parts for much longer, if he's even still here."

"Who fuckin' knows, dude," Sanford interjects, putting his hand on the electronic hand reader to gain access to the front door at the base of the control tower. The guard on duty in the security booth nods at them, and the four men salute quickly back as they enter. "It's fuckin' Auditor. He does shit at his own pace. What's he gonna do next? Why's he doin' this? What's he after? Fuck if anyone but him knows, Jesus Christ."

Instead of taking the stairs up the tower, they descend down a flight of run-down, creaking metal stairs badly in need of maintenance that leads to nowhere but the empty bottom of the tower. Sanford and Deimos kneel down and place their hands on the ground, and soon a light-purplish hue traces itself to form a square on the dusty and musty ground. They slide it out of the way to reveal a slick black staircase running down in a perfect spiral, and Chuck and Big walk in first. Sanford and Deimos follow, and the former slides the cover back in place before catching up.

"But the fact that Auditor hit the same guy we were after means that he's gearing up for somethin'," Big wonders out loud. "He tried a revolution down in Australia,, didn't he? I'll never get why he did that..."

"That no revolution, Big. That coup d'etat," Chuck corrects. "He set up own government. Said his government real government. U.N. come and put him down."

"Chuck's right, Big," Deimos says. "That was a deliberately planned coup. There's a clear difference between a revolution and a mere coup, and Auditor wanted to kill everyone in the Australian government."

"But Big's still got a point, we never figured out why the fuck Auditor even did that to begin with," Sanford groans. "Like, I get that he's some fuckin' scary-ass motherfucker, but c'mon, man! It's so hard to take 'im seriously when all he ever does is stupid retarded shit that only autists would ever think are good ideas."

"You're talking about the same dude who grabbed our guns by the fucking silencers 'n bent them up at perfect ninety degree angles like they were fucking Play-Dough, right?" Deimos asks.

"Ye - of fucking course, you dumb dipshit, who else just fuckin' jacked our Beta Blocks in front of our damn faces, you asshat?"

"Just checking to see that you're not an autist yourself," Deimos retorts, lighting up a cigarette as Sanford snorts sarcastically.

"Where Losira?" Chuck asks. "Lauren and Kane say she go somewhere, but they no tell me."

The others shrug. "They told us the same thing they told you guys," Sanford replies. "That she's off with the other girls, what were their names...Yukari 'n Ray-moo or some shit. So there."

They reach the bottom of the staircase, and Big claps his hands thrice. The completely dark room suddenly illuminates itself brightly to reveal a spacious room with plenty of advanced tracking equipment and monitors. At the center of the room stands a map table, with holograms of air traffic coming in and out of the state of Washington being displayed in real time.

"Booting up communications systems...done," Big murmurs as electronic pulses of information flow throughout the room like schools of fish in the deep sea. "Man, I'm so glad I remembered to hook up our drivers and hard drives here to SSD."

"The fuck, I thought you were good with computers!" Sanford gapes at Big, surprised.

"Yeah...but hookin' shit up to SSD...I always forget that for some reason. Never really understood why..."

As Big telepathically activates the system controls of the war room, Sanford feels the familiar vibration in the back of his right ear, which he responds to.

"Sanford copies."

"Sanford, this is HQ. Status?"

"We all made it to YTF-998-000054."

"Good. We had some of the guys whom we trained with Beta Blocks investigate the area, and they got nothing. Auditor is confirmed out of the area."

"That's good, we don't need to bust our ass over lookin' for him," Deimos notes. "Bad enough he fucking lit up Seattle with chemical weapons to begin with."

"All for a briefcase of Beta Blocks, too!" A shrill voice yells indignantly but slightly distantly over the team's mics. "I mean, what the fuck, even I wouldn't do that shit! I'm not that much of a douchebag!"

"First of all, Kane, you would pull that off, and second of all, I think all of us here would gladly set off a couple canisters 'a sarin gas to getA FULL FREAKIN' SUITCASE of Blocks," Big sighs, half-chuckling the same time. "I mean, shit, back then, Losira was doin' all the fuckin' heavy work for us since she was already serenity-compatible from the get-go. Even now, she's still the most efficient among us in collecting the stuff."

"That's because we all feed her fuckin' coords like we're fuckin' makin' it rain on her, dumbfuck!" Sanford cries. "It's no wonder it takes us fuckin' forever to get 'em!"

"Doesn't change the fact that she can sense them way the fuck better than we ever can," Deimos counters. "Anyway, back to business, Lauren. what do we got?"

"We need to discuss why Auditor showed up here today. We don't have much time, so I want to make this quick."

"Whoa, what's the rush?" Big wonders. "Usually you like taking your time with things, Lauren."

"Yes, but today is different. I will explain when it is time. But in any case, does anyone have any ideas as to why Auditor was after the same target we were?"

"To start, Sanford and Deimos job target rich guy of Seattle Committee of Businessmen," Chuck starts. "Rich guy known Beta Block trafficker selling to black market. Info valid as of two days ago. Maybe he do something to make Auditor mad?"

"Maybe," Big agrees. "I mean, Auditor's last big appearance as far as we're concerned was his attempted coup down in Australia, and that's been a good year or so. Since then, he hasn't really popped up, other than that video where he completely raped the shit outta all those people. You know, the video we showed Losira and her friends. So naturally I'd say the only reason he came here was because the guy Sanford 'n Deimos were after did something real bad, enough to piss off Auditor."

"But then why'd've he taken the briefcase?" Deimos asks. "The briefcase we were after was supposed to be on the table of the guy's office at the top floor of the skyscraper, but it wasn't there. Lauren, you can check our audio logs, but I asked that bitch specifically if he took the case, and he said he did. I don't think he's lying, either. He's too much of a dick to lie like that."

"There's...something off about that kinda logic, but okay..." Sanford snickers. "Real talk, though, Deimos does have a point. We know he 'n his organization fulla shitheads're also after the Beta Blocks. So we know why he'd be after them, the question is why at the same time as we did."

"He must have known we go after rich guy," Chuck suggests. "He come one of our base before. He do it once, he do it again. It simple."

"Yeah, but what's not simple is why he didn't just kill us all," Deimos sighs, sitting in an electronically generated chair that materializes just as he sits seemingly in mid-air. "He knows who we are. He knows that we're basically scared shitless whenever he shows his face around, though thankfully that hasn't happened a lot to begin with. So why'd he just let us live? He knew we could escape..."

"Bro, remember what he said just before he set off those gas canisters?" Sanford points out. "He mentioned some shit about the thing he was looking for not being with us..."

"Not with us?" Lauren interjects over their mic pieces, but the war room automatically takes her frequency and applies it to its built-in surround-sound speakers so all can hear conveniently. "Does he mean Losira? Since she's not with us right now. Is he talking about her?"

"...nnn, maayyyyyybe..." Big grind his teeth in stressed thought. "But, like...why her? What's she got to do with anyone, let alone fuckin' Auditor? I could be wrong, 'course, but I just don't think Auditor's after her. He's probably after something else."

"Question is, if that's the case, what else?" Sanford says. "I don't get it either, but Losira's the only logical choice."

"I will let her know of this when she comes back," Lauren mentions. "It is better for all of us to know than to dismiss any possibility as an impossibility."

"Speakin' 'a which, when's she comin' back?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Oh, thought she'd be gone for longer..." Sanford swings his legs up onto the strategy table, sitting on the same chair as Deimos is.

"If no one else can come up with a better explanation for Auditor's presence in Seattle within the last twelve hours, then we will save this discussion for another time, when Losira is back with us," Lauren says. "In the meantime, we will leave perimeter defense to our fellow Seal Teams to take care of. Instead, I have arranged a collaboration project for us this week that should be able to net us quite a payload of Beta Blocks that, if done right, will compensate for our failure today."

The news grabs the men's attention.

"Sweet, what is it? Who're we workin' with?" Sanford asks eagerly.

"We've worked with her before, and you all should still remember her. We're going back to Tokyo to meet with Ms. Yumemi Okazaki."