"Last Gig"
Tonight was the night.
Millia was more than ready to get out of that room, one way or another. Her legs had their feeling back but were still sluggish, feeling like she was swimming in gelatin, but she couldn't stay here any longer. She had already taken a few tries walking around the room when she was sure that doctor wasn't nearby, and had herself dressed and seated on the mattress. All she needed now was Jam to come back and they'd be gone.
If one was to ask her how she knew that, she wouldn't be able to rightly say. It was a skill one developed as someone who lived in the underworld. Especially in the Assassin's Syndicate. You learned to sense danger. And truth be told, she had a bit more to go on this time. Tonight was that big ballet production in Berlin. A huge event, and it had led to the city being swarming with people. After what happened in Adalwolf, that meant security was up all over. Every police officer had to be on duty as well as the military, to say nothing of international forces. Millia hadn't been able to sleep last night in spite of being underground for the sound of constant incoming traffic moving about. Assuming one of them didn't knock the door down to try and get to her, she still didn't want to be here any longer. This whole city had a sense of doom about it.
The sound of the door opening rang out. Millia snapped to it. Her sense of something about to happen was so strong she nearly went into her normal assassin mindset on looking to it, in spite of the fact she had been here a few days without trouble. However, it was just who it almost always was.
The former assassin got a bit of a surprise this time, however. She was used to seeing Jam walk in with a bag of groceries or however much money she had been able to get from reselling painkillers. This time, however, she only slowly walked in, carefully bracing a tray in her hands as she walked inside. It didn't contain Millia's food as it had on other occasions, but rather a teapot, a pair of mugs, and some dishes and spoons. A pair of tea bags were stuck in the pot and it was steaming considerably.
"What's that?"
"Looks like we're in luck." Jam said with a smile. "That doc set up some tea for us today. Guess we get a nice treat for a change. It looks like some of the real stuff from China…not that pre-bottled or weak stuff we've been drinking."
Millia merely frowned as she shut the door behind her and moved in. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to run up the bill any more than it needs to be."
"Hey," She shrugged. "We keep taking his stuff like this, we'll look like we're good for the bill, right?"
The Russian frowned but didn't change. "I also don't want to do anything to attract attention to the fact we're reselling his painkillers. The less contact we have with him, the better. How did you do?"
Jam set down the tray on the table nearby. Millia had to admit it did smell rather good. She could catch a powerful whiff of it even from here. It was quite aromatic…
"Pretty good. I don't know how long it's going to take to get enough, but I think we're ending up 'in the black' at least. I made about 200 today. Combining that with what I've already made, and that's nearly a thousand." She leaned over, pulled off the pot lid, and took a deep smell. "Mmm…that's good."
Millia, on her part, waved the steam from the pot out of her face. It seemed to be steaming more since she brought it in. "Alright. In that case, we're getting out of here. What time is it and how does it look outside?"
The chef looked up from the teapot with a puzzled expression. "Getting out of here? That's only about a thousand. We don't have nearly enough to pay the bill yet-"
"What the doctor has already is what he'll get. I'm more than well enough to deal with him now if he disputes it. Even if I wasn't, you're in good enough shape to do so."
Jam was surprised. "We're going to stiff him?"
"Unless you'd like to spend even more time with me risking arrest or, worse, being killed by assassins or blown up by the Gear, then yes, we are."
The young woman still frowned as she waved at a bit of the steam herself. "People used to bail on checks when I worked for restaurants. I always hated that… I'd have to cover the difference…"
The blond rolled her eyes. "Well, it's even more of a detriment in the underworld, but we don't have a choice. We're risking death the longer we stay here. I've got a bad feeling about this place. I would have left a lot sooner if I could have…" She grimaced and waved her hand in front of her face. "That tea has a pleasing aroma, but it's quite pungent."
Jam, still looking distracted, kept her eyes to the ground as she absently waved at her face again. "Yeah…I thought about that. I'm not familiar with many Chinese teas that strong…"
Millia didn't answer that right away. She looked again to the teapot. The truth of the matter was she was Russian and spent more time drinking stout grain liquors than fragile tea leaves. But she had been around the world a few times and had sampled her share. This was unlike any she had ever smelled before. The scent was borderline acrid, like a chemical. And she noticed it seemed to be spewing more and more vapor into the air all the time rather than cooling…
As Jam went over to start pouring it, she also noticed she wasn't quite her normal bright and chipper self. She was moving a bit more slowly.
At once, the Russian's own face went stern. "Why would he suddenly give us tea when he's been complaining about his money for what food and water we've been getting?"
"Beats me…" Jam shrugged limply as she poured one mug, giving a yawn. "Ugh, I'm dead tired all of the sudden…"
This sparked Millia's attention even more so. Had that doctor noticed they were selling painkillers? He warned Jam sternly not to advertise it, but she knew the girl wasn't quite as street smart as she would have liked.
"Were you this tired earlier?"
"Huh…?" Jam answered vacantly, turning her eyes up to Millia. She was looking a little glazed over.
"Focus! Were you this tired earlier?" She shouted back.
"Wha…? Oh…oh no…" The chef yawned. "Just…suddenly started feeling real drained… You like honey or…or sugar…?"
Millia's only answer was to snap out her hair like a thick whip and knock the entire tea set over, spilling it and shattering it against the ground with a loud crash. Much to her displeasure, Jam, who was normally as sharp as a tack when it came to sudden moves, merely dully spilled backward and landed on her rear on the floor, looking so muddled that she hardly realized it had happened. Her senses had definitely been dulled. In fact, Millia could feel her own head a bit lighter now.
No telling how much I've already breathed in… She scowled mentally as a lock of her hair swept over her nose and mouth, forming a crude vapor mask.
"Why d'you do that…?" Jam listlessly asked.
"Either you got sloppy or I did." Millia answered as she grit her teeth and put her hands on the mattress. Much to her displeasure, she still couldn't rise without the aid of her arms. She could only hope more walking would be the cure by improving circulation. "Get up. We need to get out of here right now."
Jam blinked, very slowly, looking like a sleepy child who had just rolled out of bed. "I don't-"
"I was afraid he'd eventually drug us with the painkillers and antibiotics." She said as she managed to get to her feet. Immediately she let her hair dangle longer. She'd be relying on that now. "He must have figured out we weren't taking them. Maybe he tried to drug us once already and on seeing us alert he realized we must not have taken them… So he gave you tainted tea. Let the vapors do the work even if we didn't drink it. We have to go now. Someone must already be on their way to finish us. How bad is it outside?"
"…Wha…?"
Millia groaned. "You said it looked like snow. Is it snowing? Is it dark out yet?"
Jam let out a bit of a murmur as her eyes closed and her head lolled to one side. She remained sitting up, but already she looked half-passed out or drunk. Being a chef, she had likely smelled that tea frequently for its unique aroma. If she had actually sipped any of it she'd be comatose right now. Millia barely got more than a few whiffs herself and she realized she felt a little dizzy. The vapors in the room were still only slowly fading.
The assassin scowled inwardly. Getting out of here on her own would be hard enough. She didn't think there was an ambush outside…or, at least, she hoped there wasn't. She was strong enough to take the doctor alone. But now she realized Jam was nearly out of it. Even if she got outside and took in some fresh air, it was unlikely it would clear up enough for her to start moving again in a reasonable amount of time. Until then she'd be dead weight. And Millia had a hard enough time keeping herself on her own two feet.
For a moment, the impulse hit her to simply leave her behind. After all, they were after her, not the chef. And even if they were, what of it? It was the rule of assassins. If you fell behind you got left behind rather than endanger anyone else. Besides, she had only known this woman for a few weeks and had been forced together entirely by circumstance. She could get them both killed now.
Yet that thought evaporated quickly, surprising even Millia. This woman had risked her life a few times now to help her. She had stayed with her in Berlin helping her get money and food as well as in Adalwolf. And she had foregone her own happiness and best interests for it. There was a time Millia would say that simply made her a fool and left it at that. But right now, thinking back to what that one bounty hunter said about her, it didn't feel right…
Maybe this girl will be the death of me after all… Millia sighed as she forced herself to half-walk, half-stumble over to the woman. She had to lock her legs once there, and then she lashed out with two strands of hair: one to the wall to brace herself and the other to reach down around her waist. She tugged with both, pulling Jam slowly up.
The young woman mumbled listlessly and opened her yes. "What're…?"
"Cover your mouth. Don't breathe in any more vapors. Focus. Get to your feet."
"Wha…?"
"Get to your feet! Now!"
The Russian accented this by lashing out with her gloved hand. In spite of the glove, she poked out with her nail and gave Jam such a sharp slap across the face it dug in enough to scratch. The chef yelped a bit and opened her eyes. Good. Pain could keep her awake.
"Wha'dyou…"
"Get up and grab on to me!"
The young woman gave a moan as her eyes drooped again, but she managed to push herself up to her feet with Millia's help. She nearly went down again but the Russian quickly put her good arm around her. By now, her other arm was nearly flawless again, but she still didn't want to tax it so soon. Unfortunately, Jam was nearly dead weight, slumping on her and nearly falling off. The former assassin began to hope that whatever was in that tea had merely been a drug and not poison or she could be in trouble soon herself, but keeping the arm tight around her waist, she began to shuffle to the door.
Luckily, Jam was keeping her legs somewhat straight, allowing her to function as a crutch of sorts as Millia adjusted to carrying her own weight plus hers. Still, she was stiff on going to the door. She didn't open it normally. Rather, retracting her hair and condensing it into a club, she swung out and smashed into it.
The door was weak enough and splintered inward, throwing both pieces into the room beyond. However, there was no shouting, no alarm, and no sound of footsteps. All was silent on the other side. Keeping her hair dangling in front of her face and dragging Jam with her, Millia went up to the doorway and looked outside only to see the area was vacant. She recalled she hadn't actually asked Jam if the doctor was still in, and naturally she wouldn't be telling at this point, but it seemed he had flown the coop as soon as the tea was given. That only meant two things to Millia: either he feared they'd not fall for the ruse and he ran while he could, or he was fetching someone else to take care of them so he could collect a fee; either bounty hunters, police, or even the Assassin's Syndicate. The latter seemed far more likely. At any rate, she'd take what she could get.
"Where'r…we…goin'…"
"Move your feet." Millia retorted as he began to drag her on. "Start walking. We're likely in trouble and you need to be alert."
Jam mumbled something in reply as Millia went out into the office area beyond. She quickly glanced around for signs of anyone hiding or any indication of a phone or communication device. With any luck, the doctor had to leave in order to make an outgoing call. It was a good thing Jam hadn't turned in the money. They had just enough for a ticket out of Germany to one of the surrounding countries. And once there, hopefully they'd shake the trail off of their pursuers. Of course, that meant they'd have to get out of here clean and they'd have to hope nothing like inclimate weather or that Gear was around…
After a few moments they reached the door out, which Millia likewise slammed open with a single solid blow from her hair. Immediately afterward, she swung it out into the short hall beyond before the staircase with the same extension, hoping to catch anyone on the other side off guard. However, it hit nothing. She paused a moment, trying to remember assassin procedure. She wasn't sure how many there would be out there, if they were even there yet, or what would be the move they would make when the target was essentially holed in a bunker. And unfortunately, even in cleaner, fresher air, the vapors were still making her groggy. Gritting her teeth and shaking her head again, she began to pull on Jam again.
This was the harder part. The chef was barely putting her feet underneath her. With Millia's own legs weakened, walking her upstairs was a slow, hard business. It was dark up the stairwell, which only made sense as the place was supposed to be abandoned. She tried to remember when she had gotten here if the lights were on or not, however. She didn't know if they would have been killed on purpose. The darkness helped them but only assuming someone wasn't waiting for them. Her own eyes needed time to adjust before she could see clearly, but she didn't have the time to wait. If they had been drugged…or poisoned…someone was coming soon.
It took far longer than she wanted, but finally Millia reached the top door frame. The door was already open, and as best as she could look out she could see nothing. There was no railing on this stairwell, so this finally provided a handhold as she reached out and seized it. One more pull and they'd finally be on level ground again.
Suddenly, she heard a slight noise of wood on wood; right before a cue ball shot out of the darkness and slammed into her hand with such force it instantly broke three fingers.
Millia had been conditioned for years never to cry out in pain, but her face still tightened in agony as she heard and felt her own bones snap. Giving a sharp gasp, she fell backward, losing her grip. Her weakened legs faltered underneath her, and she nearly dropped all the way downstairs, especially with the listless Jam weighing her down. Moments before she could, however, her hair snapped out and spread itself in the hall, anchoring itself and keeping her from going any further. It was a sharp tug on her scalp, but with her teeth grit and her mind filled with fresh agony, she yanked herself back up and quickly slammed her body along with Jam's against the hall wall.
Only then did she seethe as she yanked her now-broken hand back to her chest, malformed and rapidly starting to swell and bruise. In spite of what had just happened, she knew that wasn't a hammer or club. That had been a cue ball.
It can only be…
"Oh, did I crush your hand?"
The voice echoing from the floor overhead resounded through the structure. As a result, Millia couldn't immediately locate it. She frowned at that realization, knowing the only reason he even called out to begin with was because she couldn't place him.
"Well, sorry about that. I meant to smash your skull in on the first hit, but I jumped the gun. Don't worry. The next one will do the job."
"So you finally decided to handle me yourself, Venom?" The Russian called back through clenched teeth, trying not to pant. She was normally a quiet and stoic woman, but when it came to this individual she could be more vocal. Especially now. After all, so long as she kept bantering with him, it would hopefully offset either him or anyone coming after her. She wasn't in the best position at the moment. She knew Venom and his trick cue balls, giving him a ranged weapon deadlier than most bullets or arrows. "You've chased me for so long… Are you certain you don't like women?"
A light snicker echoed back. "I hope you aren't thinking that you're simply going to talk me into making a mistake, Ms. Rage. I've been waiting weeks for this. And to be honest? I prefer it this way. Yeah, not only it coming down to me and you, but even you not totally drugged either. It'd kind of suck if I couldn't listen to you scream…"
The Russian looked to Jam. The woman was so out of it she was only slightly rolling her head up. "Wha…wha…happen…?"
Millia immediately hushed her, but it was too late. Her voice may have been listless, but it still carried.
"Oh, so there's truth to the rumor that you have a comrade." Venom's voice came back. "Sounds like she had to 'try the tea' before you got it. I should have known."
"And I should have known you'd be too much of a coward not to drug me first. Just like your boss…" Millia murmured back.
"You'd best keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you." The voice responded, far harsher and sharper at that; far angrier. "You're not exactly in the best position at the moment."
"Neither are you. You had an entire group of assassins trying to kill me in Adalwolf. Now from what you said it's just you."
"Doesn't matter. I know even you couldn't work that poison completely out of your system so quick. You were already sluggish and out of practice before now. And now I'm guessing you got at least something from that tea. Plus you've got to protect someone in all of this. I'd say that makes the ball far more in my court than yours."
"If you think so, then by all means. "Come here and let me show you."
It was an empty threat, and she believed Venom knew it. She was too enclosed in here. Her hair always worked better out in the open. The only place for her to go was downstairs, back to the office and the tea vapors. Even if she could block those out, from there Venom could do anything. Flood the basement, fill the ventilation with gas, throw down some sort of Molotov cocktail, or simply keep her pinned while he called for more help.
Besides, even if that wasn't the case, she couldn't spring out at him from here. She had Jam with her and, even if she didn't, she was in considerable agony from what had just happened. It was all she could do to keep the chef from falling back down the stairs.
She wasn't in too good of a spot right now. While there was a chance she could take Venom from here, it wasn't a good chance. He wasn't as good as Zato-1 but in her current shape she'd have to be on even footing with him at least. Especially since he knew all about her hair. She realized her luck in staying alive this long might have run out. She could really use a miracle of a sort right now.
Luckily, it seemed an unconventional one was in store.
While hunched against the wall, struggling to simultaneously bite back her pain, keep balanced, and hold Jam up, who seemed to be nodding off again from not moving, she gradually became conscious of noise overhead. She was simply trying to hear Venom for right now, but instead all she could hear was traffic noises and movement of cars. It made sense. The place might have been abandoned, but it was in town and near roads, after all. But after a moment, it wasn't car sounds that attracted her. It was something more continuous and blaring: a siren.
And it was getting closer.
"You ready to make the next move? Or should I?"
Millia ignored that, only listening to the siren. It continued to get louder and was eventually joined by a second. And then a third. All three were getting nearer.
"The hell…?" Venom's voice rang out, obviously hearing them too.
There was a chance they were just driving by, but Millia began to think that might not be the case. It was true that the doctor who tended her could get a lot of money by giving her up to the Assassin's Syndicate, but it seemed most of any bounty Venom had been offering had been eaten up by now if he could even hire local mercs to back him up. Even if he offered a great deal more money to the doctor, he obviously operated on the black market. He knew he couldn't always trust people like him to deliver.
That meant they had a chance.
"Jam…" She whispered.
"Mmm…"
"Jam, we're in mortal danger right now so you need to try and fight off this drug you're under or we'll both die. Open your eyes and talk to me. We only have a few moments."
As the sirens neared, finally the chef cracked her eyes again. "…Wha…?"
"Jam, is there a car outside? Any car at all?"
The young woman blinked twice, and Millia feared she would go back under for a moment, but in the end she gave a moan and a nod.
"Where?"
The woman moaned again.
"Where?!"
"Tryin'…to think…" She mumbled in response. After a moment, however, she shook her head. "Out…out front…"
"You sure?"
"Yeah…"
The sirens were nearly on them. Millia looked back up the stairs as her hair snaked out and wrapped around Jam's waist again. She only had one shot at this. It was a major gamble even if everything when as she planned, and her body was still in no shape for it. Stretching out another hair tendril to wrap around her broken hand tightly, making her wince as she braced it, but she didn't need it flopping around. She had to pray this would work. They'd probably both be dead if it failed and it would tax her already subpar strength to the limit, but they were far more likely to die staying here. Keeping her eyes skyward, she extended further locks of hair to grasp the side of the doorframe again. She needed all the momentum she could get…
Finally, it happened.
As the sirens grew even sharper, lights suddenly flooded overhead. Between the white lights and the red and blue flashes, she knew the police were pulling up and letting their cars flood the ruin of a building. The squeal of brakes went out as they rapidly halted…
Now.
Immediately, she pushed off the stairs with all of her strength while yanking with her hair. The result tugged her scalp painfully, and between her pain and stiffness she nearly stumbled and ended up banging one of her ankles as she shot up the stairs. But in spite of that, she managed to yank her entire body, dragging Jam with her, up and to the doorframe. Not wasting a second, she whipped around to go to the other side…
A scrape went over one of her shoulders before she heard wood smashing; the end result of a cue ball being knocked out to try and hit her in the head, but missing just barely and imbedding itself in the wooden door frame instead. It had worked. By waiting until the exact moment when Venom had to duck and cover from arriving police, she had used the distraction it afforded to escape. Too slow or too fast and he still might have had an accurate shot, but as it was the ball had missed. She heard a rather loud screaming curse behind her sounding over the brakes, engines, and the sounds of policemen running out. As she herself ran into a full speed sprint, she heard voices cry out in German to halt, but she didn't hesitate. Only pulling Jam tighter she ran further into the ruin of the building.
More shouting followed behind her, echoing through the ruin, and after a moment the sounds of gunfire followed. Quickly, Millia whipped her hair behind her, interwove it, and spread it out. She only hoped she could make it strong enough on the fly to stop bullets if any got close to her and Jam as she struggled to rush through the building. Between the weight and her stiff legs, she could barely manage a slow jog at first. Luckily, the jostiling seemed to alert Jam, along with the sound of gunshots and soon impacts around them, spurring her awake again and getting her legs moving.
"What…? What the…"
"Shut up and move!"
Luckily, that got her legs moving more. The bullets cut off a moment later as Millia and Jam ducked behind the support structures and started to tear for the back wall. There was no opening there already, but one of the locked doors had a rotted frame. The Russian could see light spilling throughout the cracks. As the police no doubt tried to find a way into the building, she barreled right at it. Taking a deep breath and gritting her teeth, she knotted her hair together, swung it around, and lashed out, smashing right through it. A moment later she and Jam stumbled out into the night.
A few flakes were falling. Just flurries for now, but hopefully if they got too much farther it would pick up. The back of the building was an assortment of junk, debris, and collapsed construction material, so it took Millia a moment to get over it, slowing her down as she ran even with Jam waking up more. Yet in the darkness, she saw what Jam had spotted. An older truck, half rusted and paint peeled, parked just a little ahead. She wasn't sure if it was even road-worthy, but she made for it just the same.
As she ran, a police officer came around the side on her right. He shouted out a warning an instantly ran for her, but her hair snapped out and backhanded him across the face so hard he went flying to the ground. A moment later, another appeared on her left side. This one didn't get in range, but instead raised his weapon to fire. Clenching her teeth, feeling fresh sweat break forth, Millia snapped her hair down, seized the first bit of old masonry she could find, and flung it at him. A thud connected a moment later, dropping him just as the two of them cleared the debris. Quickly they ran to the side of the car. Not wasting any time, Millia's hair shot out, flattened itself into a crowbar of sorts, plunged itself into the side, and pried once-popping the door right open. She practically threw the semi-conscious Jam inside before climbing in as well.
As the police continued to cross around to the opposite side, and she heard other engines revving again, obviously more cars trying to head her off, she quickly moved to the ignition with another strand of hair. Luckily there was no chance of these older models being chipped, so she was able to co-opt her hair into being used as a key again, but she feared it wouldn't start. And sure enough, the first two tries it didn't go, although the fact the starter even made a noise was an encouraging sign. Finally, on the third try, just as shots began to go off against the hood, the vehicle's engine roared to life. Millia mashed down on the gas and, flinging both herself and Jam back violently, the tires squealed before taking off, shooting out of the backlot and onto the road. Shots continued to thunder behind them, but gave out a moment later.
In moments, Millia gave them another jolt as she swung the wheel wildly and got them onto the road. Once there, the vehicle immediately went into a skid, not only from the bald tires but the fact the snow was sticking to the roadways. For a moment, they fishtailed wildly before she regained control and continued to gun the engine, ignoring the fact that doing so almost guaranteed a crash if they had to slam on the brakes. She forced herself to use both hands to keep a grasp on the wheel in spite of the pain involved, needing the control. Jam, on her part, grunted and groaned from her pained experience, but it was enough to get her to look up more.
"Where…did we…? Are we…"
"Sit up." Millia coldly ordered as she looked to the rear-view mirror.
It was hard to see between the snow and the darkness, but luckily the police would be spinning their lights, blaring their sirens, and running on full beams so there would be small chance of missing them. While she was sure some were running back to their cars right that instant, for the moment the sounds of the sirens were fading again. Apparently they had arrived so quickly that they had no time to deploy. None of them had even noticed the car in the back or had mistaken it for a wreck. She hoped she could get a good distance on them before any pulled out before her. Perhaps she should find a street to duck down…
Yet as she kept looking, one of the police cars suddenly ran over the curb, pulled out into the road, and, with neither sirens nor claxions, squealed rubber as it ran after her.
Jam moaned a bit as she leaned up in her chair, and then turned her head behind her. She saw the same vehicle. As Millia slammed the accelerator down, she wasn't able to break even with the car's speed behind her until it had already closed a good portion of the distance. Gritting her teeth, she suddenly swung the wheel around violently. Jam was slammed to one side as the car gave a squeal, almost going into a skid again as it rounded the nearest corner and took off down the road.
"Ugh…hey, relax… There's only one of them…" She moaned.
"That's not a police officer. It's him." Millia retorted as she evened the car out again. The flakes were still falling and picking up speed. A few more minutes and she wouldn't be able to make a turn like that again, and she was sure the tires on the cop car were better than hers.
"Huh?"
"The sirens and lights would be on." Millia answered as she winced a bit from her hand pain. "He must have gotten to one of the cars first. Knew I'd run for it…"
Jam shifted as she peeled herself up. "Can't…you…beat him up…?"
"I don't know in this condition… Besides, not without the police realizing who we are…"
"Then what do we do…?"
"Get somewhere more populated and hope we can lose him long enough to the airport…"
The chef looked up. "Pop…populated…? But, how will we get around…?"
"Hopefully he'll have the same problem." The blond answered before going silent, focusing entirely on driving.
This might have been the biggest artistic event in Berlin following the days of the Crusades, but it went without saying even considering the multitude of attendees that the German government had trouble promoting it this year. There had been numerous cancellations leading up to the performance in the week before after what happened in Adalwolf. The international attendees had dropped to about one tenth of their previous size. The city and the federal government had gotten in a whole series of arguments trying to establish how much would be allowed to patrol the city and under what conditions they could operate. After all, it had been the military that had leveled the cathedral in Adalwolf, not the Gear. One side argued about the need to protect such a large number of people from collateral damage. The other side argued that the damage would be infinitely worse without the military there. But with the German government wanting to pull out even more stops than last time, relegating the IPF into almost a secondary or supporting role, the question started to become even if they could make a difference if there would simply be too much of a military presence for anyone willing to even attend. At last, however, a compromise had been struck with only a day to spare, and Berlin managed to recap its losses somewhat by reselling the returned tickets for a quarter price.
The streets around the Tiergarten Theater were packed as they had been every year, but the surrounding blocks were not. There were far less street vendors and what few had come were regretting it as they were only selling about half of what they were used to. Only a small portion of the crowd was more of the regular audience. The others were either people who had never afforded a ticket before now or were more of the thrill-seeking or "German solidarity" types. After all, it was no secret that people were avoiding the country now, and those who remained were mostly staying indoors, nervous about going in to work even if they had mouths to feed or families to provide for.
The place was certainly festive looking. Done up with lights and colors and decorations that could be seen from far off and all up and down the main block around Tiergarten Theater. Perhaps not as festive or bright as, say, the old New York City Times Square celebrations, but still very lit up and attractive. And still filled with people determined to sound off and have a good time, with the shouts and cheering growing as the evening fell and only growing louder. After all, those who were still attending weren't there just for some ballet production but were there to show off how they weren't afraid of the Gear or what was going on at the time. And truth be told, there was more boldness on their part closer to the theater if for no other reason than they didn't have to look at the periphery. Closer to the theater, there were less crowds of soldiers and guards taking position. The decorations obscured the snipers and lookouts on roofs. The sounds of revelry blocked out the sounds of smaller planes and hoverjets covering the area. The tall buildings obscured the warships that had been deployed to encircle the city at a safe distance. And, last but not least, the crowds helped obscure both the military and the police force present.
The IPF members were probably the most on edge out of all of them. After all, Captain Kiske was no longer in command, and there was even the rumor going around that he had deserted. Many of them had been killed back in Adalwolf and, worse yet, the one outlaw they had managed to capture, Sol Badguy, was on the loose again as well as disabling one of their trains and nearly causing a nuclear meltdown. On the cusp of all of these unfortunate events and missing the man they trusted the most in spite of how bad things had been going so far, they were the most on edge as they patrolled the streets and looked about, keeping an eye out for any more places the Gear would be hiding in plain sight. Yet the few who were feeling braver were still uneasy due to how the government was treating them. After two failures, they were being treated almost as glorified security guards or "rent-a-cops". Not being given any real authority and being instructed both to stay out of sensitive areas as well as to mostly serve to notify the army. The fact that they weren't expected to engage in fighting yet were still being crowded into the hot zone for spare eyes and ears wasn't something that set well with any of them. Especially in a crowded situation like this.
But to be honest, all sides were feeling antsy now. Adalwolf had been overcrowded but it had been a small town, ultimately. If an incident happened here, it would be tens of thousands. Perhaps hundreds of thousands or even millions. And they all knew if they didn't hit the Gear first whenever she showed up, they wouldn't get a second chance.
As curtain time drew near and the sun fully set, with what little light there was left to be gained obscured by the overcast clouds, and as the sky broke and began to shed flakes in full-on flurries that promised to develop into heavier snow before long, the main screens in front of the theater came on. Families and couples gathered before them as best they could: some taking standing positions while others camped on the street and huddled together with whatever hot chocolate or cider they had and settled in. The last few people with tickets were making their way inside, although the lines were still quite thick even now at the door. After all, if one was brave enough to come out there, then they were holding on to someone opting out at the last minute, leaving another opening. Some were gathered around the front of the theater even now, watching the crowds go in, hoping that they would make an announcement to permit another load.
And some were simply watching as they made sure one woman in a simple and large dress with blue hair managed to make her way inside with them…
May let out another violent shudder as she blew on her hands, before poking her head out of the back seat. "Can't you fly this any lower?" She managed to shout over the blare of the engine.
April could only let out a grimace as she held her head down more. She muttered something back, but it was lost on the wind.
"What was that?"
"I said we're already flying too low! Anyone could spot us if they looked up at the right moment!" She shouted back. "If we're not careful one of those snipers'll spot us! Besides, it'd be just as cold down there! I'm freezing too!"
"That's a load of bull! You at least get a windshield to keep the wind off of you!" May shouted back before she leaned in more, trying to keep her anchor from swinging around too much.
The two shipmates were currently making their circuit over Berlin. It wasn't easy, just as April had been pointing out. Eyes were everywhere, on the sky as well as the ground. They actually had a bit of a lucky break with this snow. It was providing enough cover and insulation to mute out the sound of the prop flier that April was currently manning; enabling them to make their frequent circuit of the city in spite of the heightened security. It still didn't mean that both of them were too eager about this whole thing. Especially not since they were running on a synchronized clock they were hoping would be right…
May frequently looked over the side as they buzzed around. It wasn't the size of the prop flier or their high circuit that made her nervous. It was watching as the presidential motorcade pulled up to one of the more luxurious buildings almost directly across from the Tiergarten Theater. From there, the president would get a perfect view of one of the main screens displaying the program. Normally he would go right inside, but it seemed for all of his talk to try and convince people that the event was safe, he himself was taking a few extra precautions and keeping his distance in a building under his control with his own security. Goodness knew that it might have very well been a stand-in at the upper floors, as there was no escape route for the politician if things went wrong. It wouldn't be the first time May would have found herself in that position. But at any rate, based on the fly-bys and the arrival, he had to be seated now and gearing up for the performance.
Which meant very soon, May would have to make her own move. Taking a look at the clock display at April's HUD, looking just over her shoulder, she realized that Sol's time might be right on the mark. And that meant that she was soon going to confront one of the last men she ever wanted to see again, and this time would have to get the drop on him or everything would fall apart…
But it's for Dizzy…so I'll do it.
Just a little longer…
Chipp was actually a bit more suited to his current element. Even in an area this crowded with people, he felt more at ease in slipping in and out of shadows and making this way over to the parking garage. Of course, he had to be more vigilant this time. There were a lot more eyes looking around and they were trying to catch someone just like him skulking about. Even worse was that in most of his outings as a ninja, he didn't have his current cargo.
There were few people in the world who would enjoy walking down a street with an oversized bag over their shoulders filled with active bombs, but less so who would not only try to sneak around with such an obvious bit of luggage but also have them be rather crude. The Jellyfish Air Pirates couldn't afford conventional explosives. These were mostly put together with chemicals and spare parts. Chipp was no bomb technician but between the exposed wires on some, the duct tape on others, and one bomb in particular that had been hastily put together using what looked like adhesive stickers from a local toy store, and he was more than a little afraid that one wrong step would turn him into a fireball. He was glad when he finally managed to sneak his way off the main drag if for no other reason than he could move more easily and focus more on keeping the bombs even.
By now he had made it to the garage. Naturally, he wasn't out of the woods yet. Not only were there active cameras in here and the place locked up, but there were guards patrolling outside. He had managed to slip in just the same, but he knew he couldn't afford to hang out in the open or jump the gun. He'd have to place the bombs and get out as soon as possible. Odds were someone would spot him doing this, so the only thing he could do now was place them and move before anyone could respond. Luckily, that wouldn't be much of a problem. As he crouched in one shadow and pulled out an explosive, he noticed the crude timer had been set, but to be precise he would have to fine tune it to match the time with the chaos that would unfold.
Fifteen minutes…only ten of which will be covered by that hiccup that Ky gives, assuming the cop can pull it off…
Sheesh, when I decided to go after that Gear, I never thought I'd be doing this. Essentially delegated to the 'bomb man' in a ragtag commando unit… But everyone's working together on this. We all have a common cause, and none of it works without us all together doing our part.
Great.
That means if one of us messes up, we all fail.
As the door opened, it revealed a lone IPF officer seated at an old computer terminal. It was one of the rarest of the rare: a system that had actually survived all the rampant destruction of the Crusades. Based on the parts of it looked like they had been operated on and repaired with mismatched paneling, and other parts of it were scratched, dented, and even scored in one area, it made it clear it had seen its share of hard times. But now it was installed right here in this secure room, wired up to a one-way line to the main "bus" that operated the bulk of Berlin's networks, but in particular ones that had old IPF ties such as those related to security and transmissions. From the looks of it, it was a rather boring job. The officer was leaned back and nearly napping, using the terminal to fire up the local feed of the upcoming ballet before curtains went up.
That changed, however, when he heard the secure door behind him open. Quickly, he snapped to attention, obviously thinking it was his supporting officer as he wasn't due to be relieved for four hours yet. In a flash he sat upright and swiveled around to the door.
He blinked and quickly stood upright. "Captain! It's you! What…where have you been?"
Ky didn't answer right away. He readily stepped inside, never opening the secure door all the way, and then rapidly shut it behind him, making sure the Thunderseal was cleared right before doing so. "…Special assignment." He answered as soon as he was within, moving his hand to rest on the hilt.
The officer continued to look rather surprised. "I'm…kind of surprised to see you here, sir. I thought you had been removed from this assignment… And…um…well, there was a rumor, but nevermind-"
"Officer," Ky cut off as he kept his hand on his hilt. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid I don't have time. This will take too long to explain and, unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of trying to make you understand or risking letting you sound an alarm. So I'm afraid I'll just have to apologize in advance. Forgive me."
The man blinked at that, clearly even more confused than before, but he had no chance to ponder what this meant. At once, Ky lifted his other hand and pointed his first two fingers at him. The Thunderseal shimmered a moment, letting out a bolt of electricity from the hilt, before a much larger bolt erupted from Ky's fingertips and struck the IPF officer right in the chest.
He spasmed and went rigid, but only for a fraction of a second. Soon after he went flaccid again and collapsed to the ground in a rather painful heap.
Ky gave an uneasy shudder before he advanced, bent down next to him, and began to straighten him a bit. He hated having to do that but he had little choice. Besides, this guard was the third in the series he had already disabled. Not to mention he had to overload the secure door's maglock in order to even get to the terminal. They may not have been giving this old battered station much mind, but the powers that be knew it was important, which meant they had sent guards to watch it to make sure it wouldn't be tampered with. That was why it had taken Ky so long to get into position.
Yet he had still been spotted…
Ky was a man of honor. So long as he could serve honorably, losing the position in the IPF wouldn't matter much to him. But the fact that he had to be underhanded about this… The fact he had to betray those who he called allies. Even if it was only knocking them out or stunning them…
Yet there was nothing for it. He had already come this far. Now, he had to see it through to the end. No matter what happened to him or the Gear, he had to keep going.
Just make sure it works or this will be all for nothing.
I have to help her now.
With the officer taken care of, he got up and quickly went to the seat. While Ky wasn't as computer-inclined at most, he knew how to work this system in an emergency. Quickly he pulled forward, dismissed the other screens, and pulled up the command line interface. He knew the keystrokes would log him but so be it. He would eventually be traced to this by testimony. Therefore it didn't matter.
On accessing the interface, he quickly typed in the command line the executable for a hidden program: "HolyofHolies . exe".
Back during the Crusades, in spite of the bad situation Earth was going through, the importance of having some sort of defense network in place could not be denied. There had to be information routes to report on situations. There had to be communications to coordinate when enemies attacked. In more extreme cases, in which actual war weapons and the like were available, there had to be ways to run them by remote. All of these required computer networks.
But Gears, even operating under Justice, were not foolish. They were intelligent enough to hack networks or seize control of them, especially since these early remade machines were meant to be crude, easy-to-activate, and operable under war situations-not hack-proof. When the Gears started to exploit the networks, either disabling them or, worse yet, using them themselves in order to subvert their human opponents, a security system was needed. Eventually, one was created that was rather simplistic and brute force by modern programming standards, but it too was easy to implement and complex enough to keep the non-computer-using Gears out. The system would basically override entire cities worth of networks, and usually entire regions. In one case, the entire country of Portugal was under one briefly.
Most people weren't aware they even existed. They were a "late game" addition in the war, after all. But Ky was not only an individual who was aware of their existence. He was also a man who had memorized the codes for most of the ones in Europe, including Germany.
Sure enough, on launching the executable, a message box popped up; prompting him to put in the password.
Exhaling slightly, he typed in the long-memorized code. Quite complicated, and definitely not anything a mnemonic or clue could be linked to. After typing, he pressed the enter key. Immediately a second dialog popped up. Very crude and basic as well. Something someone could make with built-in developer software. However, it displayed several options. One of them was to run a System Reset: the most basic way to purge any hacker or controlling code attempting to breach the system. The thing was it required time to propagate the signal throughout the entire city-wide system as well as to clear all the memory cells. For an area the size of Berlin, that was ten minutes easy. Possibly more than that, but he doubted more than twelve.
What that would do was give them a good ten minutes of blindness in which the only way they could be tracked on most security networks, which were themselves running off of the city's network and power grid, would be disabled. It would also keep any system using the city's own relays mute and deaf. They would have that time to do their mission. However, the timetable they had worked out was fifteen minutes. They could afford no longer. That meant for up to five minutes people could still watch them.
They'd have to make sure they were already on their way out or moving too fast to be stopped when that happened.
With that in mind, Ky moved the control over to the execute for the System Reset. However, he didn't type just yet. He looked to the clock first.
Still about 90 seconds.
And the second that's hit, I need to run.
Testament was disgusted to be here. It made him sick to even have to be around a group of humans. To be in the middle of one of their cities, surrounded by them, was enough to practically make him nauseous. It didn't matter that he knew full well that in about one hour's time all of them would be dead. Not only was there an entire planet of them outside of this city, but it didn't do anything for the fact that he was stuck here with them now. What more, he knew she hated it whenever they were going to die. So in addition, to hating them more than anything personally, he also hated the fact they brought her discomfort.
They brought this on themselves, though…
They couldn't just let her live in peace.
Testament had a good view of the front of the theater from here. Not of the doorway, of course. That was blocked off by the crowds. They were thinning out from trying to get in at this point, for they were helping the last few to their seats and had already closed the doors. Most of the people in the street were taking position to watch the screen in spite of how cold it was, and how the few flurries that had started off were now picking up into a steady shower. The assortment of bright and vibrant lights had actually dimmed a bit to try and not create a glare off of the falling flakes so the screen would be more visible, although all it was running at the moment was advertisements. Unfortunately, he couldn't see inside the building at all. Dizzy had already gone in, about as nervous and uncertain as any small child would be sent into a crowded building all on her own. It didn't help that Necro knew full well what Testament intended and seemed eager to get started. She had complained about her right shoulder itching and even when both she and Undine told him to stay quiet he wouldn't keep in. The more nervous she was the more likely he would come forth, too… But it was a chance he had to take.
From his current vantage point, Testament looked back to the same side of the street he was on. He was as close as he could be to the building opposite the theater without being harassed for loitering. Even from here, he could see a number of people in German's own variation on a secret service stationed in front of the blocked off building plaza. That was the one hosting the German president. He already knew where he was. Even in his own subpar state, it would be nothing for him to teleport right past them and before him.
Of course, he'd only have one shot at it. At the moment he had fully extended his own attire and supplemented it with a black hood, but every inch of his skin that poked out was unnaturally pale and testified to him not being quite normal. Luckily, no one paid much attention to him as he leaned against a building side. After all, this was Berlin. It had all sorts of characters. His own tail was well obscured and he was human-like enough in appearance that no one could suspect he was a Gear, and his demeanor was dark and cold enough to prevent anyone from staring too long for fear of getting his ire. That would change once he had to reveal himself, but all he had to do was make one move and everything would be set in motion…and he would reap as many humans as possible before the hammer fell and destroyed the rest of them.
In spite of his resolve, Testament couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable about all of this. Not for the deaths of the humans he himself would inflict. Oh no…if he could work his will he would throw every last one of them into an oven and watch them roast. Even the ones he had run into that seemed bearably decent could perish along with them if it meant being rid of them. And not for the fact that both he and Dizzy would be hard pressed to escape this alive themselves. No, it was the fact that he had to have her do this. In spite of how she had been treated, he knew full well that she still didn't want to hurt them. She was still devastated not only at the people she had killed by accident in Adalwolf but by the ones she had no choice but to kill. It was maddening to Testament, but also drove him to further hate.
Damn them all to hell… Such worthless creatures… He thought as he visibly sneered. This is all their fault. They don't even know what to do with an innocent creature when they find it. All they do is destroy it. If they had just left her alone, if they had gotten past their own petty "all Gears must die" mentality…she'd never have to go through this. She'll spend the rest of her life having to hide in the shadows having to slaughter whatever human comes upon her to survive and feeling more inner torment and torture for all of it. And all because-
Testament's train of thought cut off at that point.
By now, the crowds were packed in but were also slowing. The last advertisement had run, and the screen had changed to the introduction to the program. The last few groups that could sit in the street were doing so while others were taking standing positions to watch instead. Everyone was pausing and turning to the screen.
Everyone save one person.
He seemed to almost materialize out of the crowd; the man blocking Testament's line of sight to him merely turning and looking up. But when he did, he popped out behind him. The same red and white clothing. The same brown, spiked hair, and the same headband; his eyes perfectly focused on him. It was as if he had known the whole time where Testament would be.
The Gear's mouth parted as the name went through his head.
Sol…
He had found him. He had no idea how, but he had actually tracked him down. For a second, Testament was aghast. How? How could he have known where he would be? An entire country open to him, an entire city open to him, and he had guessed he would be here?
However, he didn't dwell on the how. All that mattered was that he did. And now that he knew he was here, he had to have known more than that. He had to know why he was here. He had to know what he was doing here and his intentions.
Testament leaned up and thought for a moment. Sol was right in front of him. If he got into a fight with him, the Gear realized he was still weakened enough to have a good chance of losing. And if he lost here before he carried out his part of the plan, then that would be it. After what happened in the Cathedral, he didn't put it past Sol to not have actually worked with that entire group of humans. While they'd be only fodder for Dizzy, they might ruin her end of the plan. They might alert the whole German army on the area. He wouldn't even put it past those creatures to nuke the entire town trying to kill her. And while a massive toxic radiation leak might not be enough to kill her, some of those greater weapons might. Her body was frail…
He's here…which means he could ruin everything…
Testament knew he had to make a decision, and fast. Once Sol started to fight him, there'd be no way to focus on anything else. Even if Dizzy could handle herself, the incident in Adalwolf had inadvertently shown that even she could be hurt with all her power. And even if she wasn't in danger, there was the threat of this part of the plan being ruined. There was only one thing for it.
Gritting his teeth in anger, Testament quickly stood up and flicked his hand out, he performed a twirling gesture with it, and at once the darkness around him seemed to peel off of the shadows of his own arm, lengthen, and become tangible. In moments, a shaft had extended outward and entered his grip, and rapidly it lengthened and twisted and tapered on one end while going down to the ground with the other. In a moment, he smacked the end down on the ground, and the black shadow turned blood red: his scythe.
Even with most people's attention on the screen before them, that couldn't have escaped notice, but he no longer cared. He had already established the connections an hour ago to put him on the appropriate floor with the German president. Therefore, his only concern was watching Sol and making sure he couldn't react in time before he snapped his scythe back, placed the other hand on it, and then swung forward and cut the air. Whoever didn't notice him already quickly turned their heads as the sound of reality tearing ripped through the air, sending a resounding echo down the street. In moments, two dozen people were looking to him as space itself was ripped open, a cosmic tear tinged with red fire, and the Gear rapidly stepped forward into it…
As his view of Sol faded, he failed to see the man never reacted.
He merely looked to his time, and saw, give or take a second or two, his prediction for when to begin with precisely on schedule.
An alarm clock rang from the panel of the prop flier, echoing loud and clear even over the sound of the bitter blowing wind.
"It's time!" April shouted. Quickly, she pitched the prop to one side and made a beeline straight for a fly-by of the roof of the building across from the Tiergarten Theater. "I just hope that guy's right about that…"
May quickly rose from her own seat, ignoring the violent turn of the plane. After all, she never fastened herself in her seat to begin with. She quickly hoisted the anchor and ran some mental work, thinking about how deep she'd have to go. Two floors down easily…
As the plane made a line over the top of the building, she rose to full height and hefted her weapon over one shoulder. It unbalanced the plane a bit, making it wobble, but this wasn't her first time and so she bore with it.
"Ten seconds, April!"
"Er…are you sure you don't want me to add one or two just because-"
"I got this! Ten seconds!"
May grasped the end of her anchor as tightly as she could and swung it around fiercely in a circle. After one revolution, she could already feel the pull against her body. By the time she did two, she felt herself nearly being yanked out of the cockpit by the momentum. She threw in one more for good measure, slowing down just a bit at the end to lessen the power, and then, just as they passed over the roof, she flung the entire weapon downward.
"Let's see that bounty hunter do thIIIIIIS!"
Her voice choked off into a rather wild cry as the power of the momentum coupled with gravity yanked her right off the top of the prop flier and straight to the ground. While April kept flying, May shifted both of her hands onto the hilt as vertigo and force caused her stomach to fly into her shoes. Yet she bit down from experience and dealt with it as she pulled her entire small body behind the thickest part of the anchor.
Between the projectile motion and the pull of her own force plus the fall, she was soon sailing down like a bomb right for an off center impact on the roof.
To be more precise, a bunker-busting bomb.
Testament knew full well that his mere appearance would provide all the distraction he needed. These people weren't the higher-level magics, after all. Oh, certainly the president's secret service had some that could use magic among them, but certainly no one who had ever confronted a Gear before. Hence, as he broke forth through his cosmic tear and saw a well-lit chamber done up with a measure of luxury, something befitting a higher member of state when they went to view an event like this ballet, as well as the normal entourage of political heads, presidential family members, and, of course, secret service, he got exactly what he expected. Shocked faces that were still trying to comprehend what they were seeing.
Even not knowing exactly where he would be, Testament saw his portal was spot on. He was a mere ten feet in front of the full-wall plate glass window overlooking the Tiergarten Theater screen, and right before him, seated on a leather couch along with his wife and children, was the German president. Like everyone else in the room, his face was aghast at the sudden arrival.
The Gear wasted little time. He was too weak and Sol might shift to Dizzy while he was here. As the corners of his vision saw two of the more powerful members of the guard starting to cast spells of their own, he swung his scythe at one, crossed, and swung it at the other. The blood-red energy on his blade seemed to melt off in both occasions and fling itself at either man like balls of plasma. Yet before making impact, both of them twisted and morphed into hideous, hellish creatures. On contact, not only did the force throw them to the ground, but both men cried out as the bloody monsters savagely tore into them. Not enough to kill them, but so long as it kept them busy it would suffice.
Now there was no one left to keep him from going forward and finishing his job. He brandished the scythe and stepped off the ground, moving toward the President.
Before he could go more than an inch, however, the ceiling between the two burst, and among a deluge of building debris and a terrific clamor, a metal and orange object descended from overhead and slammed down in the space between. The Gear halted in surprise as the sudden arrival came to a halt just a short distance in front of him.
He looked down to the object and had just enough time for his brain to register what it was as it quickly moved out of its current position, not at all miffed by how it had just literally plowed through not only the ceiling but two floors above, and looked up to him.
It was a girl in an orange pirate outfit boasting a rather large and heavy anchor, which she now grasped more tightly with both hands as her feet swung around and touched down on the floor.
His memory registered her grinning face…
"This is for turning me into a potted plant, asshole."
Before Testament could fully register what she was doing, she snapped the anchor off the ground, swung it around in nearly a complete arc, and brought the full brunt of one of the arms into his jaw.
May had to admit: it felt great to feel her anchor connecting with that Gear's face. It had been a dream of hers ever since England to be able to give him a good whack with it. And as tough as he was and as easily as he could beat her to a pulp, between his weakened state and the fact she got the drop on him with a blow at full power, even he couldn't just shrug that off. Not only did his head snap up and to the side, but the sheer force of the blow took him clean off his feet and sent him flying.
He wasn't braced, and he certainly wasn't a hulk like the last person who had gotten a full hit of her anchor. Even someone as powerful as he was powerless to stop himself from sailing back so hard he slammed not only into the plate glass window, but smashed right through it; shattering the glass and flying out onto the street on the other side.
As Testament's body began to fall to the ground, May paused to relish the moment. Luckily, she snapped out of it long enough to realize that not only did that blow likely more annoy him than anything, but that she couldn't afford to stick around that long in a room full of secret service agents, government officials, and nothing less than the German president…especially since most of them were still able-bodied when Testament arrived, and now were only hesitating because they hadn't yet recognized who she was. Quickly she hoisted her anchor back up, propped it over one shoulder, and charged right out to the very opening she had just made with Testament's body. In seconds she was there and leapt out after him.
Her eyes looked downward for a moment as the vertigo once again began to hit her, and saw the Gear was already recovering from the last blow and beginning to right himself. Even he couldn't just take a 13 floor drop, after all. Of course, neither could May. He may have had quite the distance on her, but from this high she knew the result would be "splat" for her eventually…
Luckily, however, it never came. After falling only one floor she heard the sound of the prop flier. Four stories later, and it was nearly on her. A scant four stories before falling, and before her momentum could get too high to stop, she saw the flier zoom underneath her before she fell right back in the seat she was in just a little while ago. Considering the narrowness of the opening and how precise it had to be, the fact that she landed clean, not hitting the pilot or knocking her anchor against the sides, was rather amazing. And while she got a bit of a painful jolt from the impact, it was nothing she wasn't used to.
Soon after, the pirate let out a sigh of relief as she slumped back into her seat.
"You alright?" April called behind her as she rapidly pulled back out of the street again.
"No problem." She smiled as she leaned back, even as she wiped a small amount of sweat from her brow. "Phew…but what'd I tell you? Ten seconds easy."
"Um, actually, May… I added two extra seconds. I told you you couldn't do it in ten."
May sat upright at that. "Wha…? But…what if I had been on time?!"
"I knew you wouldn't, though. Even trying really hard." April shrugged.
The first mate frowned, crossed her arms, and pouted as an alarm siren began to blare from the building.
With the entire city on alert regarding the situation with the Gear, along with the military deployment had gone the deployment of various alarm systems. After all, following what had happened in Adalwolf, as soon as the Gear appeared they wanted to get people away as soon as possible; despite recommendations that large numbers of sirens would only cause a panic that might exacerbate efforts to respond to a crisis situation.
Naturally, with everyone so on edge, it didn't matter that the Gear that arrived was Testament or even that he couldn't automatically be confirmed to be a Gear in the first place. One nervous soldier seeing an attack happening on the President was all it took for him to trip the first alarm, and it took mere seconds for that to propagate into sounding off the general alarm for the area. From there, in only moments the military was setting off the higher alerts, assuming the worst, and beginning to fire up air raid sirens throughout the entire Tiergarten district.
And the result was, unfortunately, just as predicted.
In the theater itself, the sounds of the sirens blared in over the silence of the audience, and the result was instantaneous. A fistful of people calmly began to rise and exit. Others, however, tore out of their seats as fast as they could and broke. That, unfortunately, spurred on others. Immediately they tore out as well, thinking this was a signal that the attacker was nearby. And the sudden rise prompted others to be even more fearful, thinking that the Gear was right there in the theater with them. They too tore to their feet and ran. And with the lights already dimming, it wasn't long before people started to charge into each other. Not long after that, one person got knocked down and stepped on, prompting a scream from a family member. And the first scream soon led to others as full-blown panic broke out.
And through it all, a single blue-haired woman in an attractive yet concealing dress cringed, trying to hide her own red eyes from the audience before the lights came on.
Dizzy felt severely uncomfortable now. It wasn't just because the sirens happened earlier than Testament said they would. It was on seeing the looks on everyone's faces. The terror…the panic…the growing desire to claw and trample each other to get out as fast as possible. They were all so terrified of her, even the idea of her being there (although, ironically, the very Gear they feared was among them). No matter where she went or what she did, they always hated her… It was enough to make her pause sitting there.
Necro told her not to start blubbering again and get up. Undine chimed in soon after, although she was much gentler, telling her if they didn't move now they'd waste Testament's effort.
Hearing that, the young woman closed her eyes, inhaled, and slowly rose from her seat.
As best as she could, she started picking her way over the aisles. She had to make sure she was headed to the rear exit.
The blow had been painful; that much was true. Strong and durable as he was, with skin tough enough to not even be sliced by a Jinki unless it was focused, blunt force was another matter. The toughest skin in the world would merely be a wrapper to the softer organs and skeleton underneath when smacked by an anchor that huge. And in his still-sore-and-weakened state, not to mention surprised, Testament couldn't brace himself before the blow had connected. He began to wonder if Justice had permanently damaged him if he was still having this much trouble recovering. It was clearly possible…
Yet it had still been nothing compared to much stronger blows from someone like Sol or Ky. As a result, he fully regained his bearings long before making impact. Gritting his teeth in anger and rubbing his jaw from the tender spot, he swung his scythe out and pulsed forth his power once again. This time, it began to generate a field of repelling force below him. It wasn't nearly as easy as he made it look. Negating Earth's gravity could easily get out of control and push him back into the heavens, disorientating him worse than before, if he didn't focus it just right. But after years of practice, he managed to slow his descent rapidly as well as swivel his body around as if on a great axis. He touched down a moment later, going ahead and actually setting his feet.
The Gear looked up and around, and noted that it hadn't taken the humans long to scatter like cockroaches. Already, the immediate area around him was bare. Whoever hadn't noticed him making his portal less than half a minute ago was now hearing the sirens and seeing him in all his glory. Even his tail had briefly been visible as he faltered to the ground, and between his pale skin, red eyes, and the almost bloody scythe he was holding it didn't really matter if he wasn't Dizzy; he looked "Gear enough" to make everyone run for their lives.
He scowled at the sight as the people continued to flee. This was a true mess. Obviously Sol not only had friends helping him this time, but he had added more to his ranks from what Testament had seen. He needed to move. By making him jump the gun and foiling him, that meant Sol had to have anticipated exactly what he would do. But the fact he hadn't gone after him himself meant he might have been smart enough to realize his entire act was a diversion. He was going after Dizzy and strong as she was he wasn't willing to see if Sol could get lucky. After all, he had somehow defeated Justice.
"Pardon me, sir."
The Gear was so unaccustomed to being addressed that he almost ignored that comment for a moment, until he realized with everyone fleeing, even the local soldiers until they could get backup, that it had to be toward him. He looked up.
In the midst of the civilians pushing each other away, the vendors turning and leaving with their wares as fast as they could to not lose their sole livelihood, and even the military and police regrouping to mount a proper assault on him, Testament saw a single individual in a wide-brimmed black hat and black coat with a cart selling (of all things) sunglasses standing his ground and grinning at him.
"Since the rest of the patrons are leaving, can I interest you in a pair of shades?" He tapped his own. "They match black perfectly and we obviously shop at the same store."
The Gear sneered as he rose to full height, recognizing him immediately from the cathedral. "So…you're in on this too. When it comes to killing Gears, even outlaws are tolerated by your systems of law and order."
"That's where you're wrong, sir." Johnny answered as he adjusted his shades. "We're here to save her, which is more than what I can say for you."
Testament scoffed. "Is that what passes for humor in humans nowadays? Even I don't remember a joke so asinine."
"If you have your way, you'll end up turning her into a mass murderer. Think the world will ever leave her in peace after that?" The man shot back.
"And you only want her welfare, I'm sure." He hissed. "How rich. You expect me to believe a human actually wants to defend a Gear. Just how foolish do you think I am, thief?"
"I don't really care if you believe me or not. It's the truth either way." Johnny answered as he flicked back his coat, revealing the hilt of his concealed bokken. "You can either help us get her out of here safe and sound with no civilian casualties, or you can put your little Grim Reaper tool up and get ready for a fight."
"Well, I don't really care if you wish to convince me or not. I'm not wasting time on the likes of you. Especially knowing full well you're just buying time."
Immediately, he spun around and aimed himself at the theater. He took a step forward toward it…
When his knee suddenly felt a jolting pain come from behind it. Giving just the mildest exhale, Testament suddenly faltered down to the ground, his red eyes widening a bit at how he had been struck. He rose again and spun around, just as a tinkle of metal hit the ground. He briefly looked to it; spotting a small gold coin, almost thick enough to be a dubloon, hitting the ground. He looked back up to Johnny afterward, seeing him smirking as his thumb and fist remained extended in a manner of flicking a coin.
"You really shouldn't turn your back on a warrior, you know."
Testament glared back darkly a moment, but then merely swung his scythe to one side. As energy gathered around it, he moved his other arm across with the intent of seizing it and tearing into reality again.
The move required too much focus. He couldn't react as the air pirate fished another coin out of his palm and flicked that as well, this time hitting him perfectly on the tendons in his arm. Giving another mild hiss, the scythe almost got knocked out of his grasp, breaking the spell. He managed to catch it again, but his red eyes soon blazed at the man.
"Get it yet, friend?" Johnny answered, his voice suddenly turning from easy-going to sharper and colder. "You're not going anywhere. Not unless you deal with me."
The teeth of the Gear showed. His eyes looked around. The crowds had nearly cleared the street by now, but the sirens were getting louder. Farther than that, off in the distance, he heard the sounds of their war machines beginning to fire up. Soon they'd be coming for him, but he knew the police force and infantry would arrive first. He couldn't deal with all of them at once along with a decent fighter like the pirate; not in his current state. And he definitely wasn't going to be able to get to Dizzy dealing with him.
Well, if he's so eager to die…
Tightening his grip again, Testament readied the scythe as he hovered off of the ground slightly.
"Have it your way."
It took only moments for Chipp to reset the timers. Luckily they were so simple that the infant of the crew of the Jellyfish Pirates could practically work them, much less someone not terribly mechanically inclined. Just like letting him know where these needed to be planted was an easy matter of looking up the modular designs for most modern parking garages and letting him go at it, even if he wasn't that experienced with demolition.
Of course, he didn't jump right in on it. He couldn't. He wouldn't have the freedom to go about and plant those bombs without anyone noticing right at first. Instead, he stayed to the shadows and watched the nearest camera the moment the sirens started to blare. For a few precious seconds, that was all he could do, waiting to see what would come next if anything.
Then it hit. The light suddenly went dead. Immediately he went to work.
He was honestly surprised that it had worked. Apparently, that Ky really knew his stuff. He wished back when he was still a drug dealer he would have known about those codes. Heck, even today it would be useful to someone who practiced ninjitsu. One code word and suddenly the city was blind to him and his activities. And with his innate speed, he quickly darted about, putting the bombs in each location that he had been told. Most of them were next to support columns, and the sequence in which they were placed looked like they'd try to get the under-construction building to collapse on itself rather than explode outward. Aside from the random tool or scaffold or set of building materials that happened to catch him in the shin as he ran about, it was easy work, which was all the better for him because each one of these bombs was counting down and he wanted to be as far away from them as possible when they went off.
Assuming everything went according to plan, they couldn't just make Dizzy disappear. They had to have some sort of cover story. Namely they had to fool the world into thinking she was dead. So long as they did, the hunt would be off. She had passed as a human for so long with no way to tell the difference. No one really had a good idea of what she looked like. So with her believed to be dead, if they could smuggle her out of the country she'd be free to start a new life wherever she wanted.
Of course, there was the fact that they were treating her in this scenario like she was a helpless, weak child and not the apocalyptic doom-bringer who had leveled a good part of Adalwolf. Needless to say, after going one-on-one with Testament a bit, Chipp wasn't looking to get in a fight with her. In fact, he was keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of her.
As it turned out, he would get it before long. After setting over half the bombs and still only two minutes into when the sirens had blared, Chipp found himself up on the second floor. Some of the support columns on the first had already been covered with steel-reinforced concrete. He needed to actually get higher to make the implosion work properly on the still-exposed columns. As a result, he found himself in an area mostly blocked off by industrial plastic, being used only to keep moisture out and wind. From the bags of cement and the mixer it looked like where they prepared concrete for patch jobs. Obviously not being used right now between the time of year and the situation. When the ninja glanced out the window toward the theater, taking note of how heavy the snowfall was getting, he spotted her and immediately pressed himself against the wall. He didn't want to do the slightest thing to get her attention toward him.
She was dressed rather elegantly, like any other attendee might be. And without her wings and tail exposed, he almost mistook her for someone else, especially with the increasing snow. But he caught her hair, and the light touched her eyes just right to give them that reddish tint as she ran up to the building.
He stayed still and kept himself pressed against the wall. She would either try to cut right through or she would go up the stairwell and try to get a better vantage point. Sol confessed the latter was more likely, which is why they were supposed to be up there to stop her when she got that far. He was to stay out of sight himself, which suited him just fine during the planning phase. Stay away from her and let the big guns handle her. He just had to make sure he stayed out of sight the whole time. Make sure she didn't even think he was there. Then he'd be free to finish his own job and get out of there.
The only problem, he realized, was that he hadn't seen Sol or Ky head in that direction. There was a chance they had snuck around him, he supposed. He had been so focused on keeping himself hidden he hadn't paid much attention to other noises. However, he was fairly sure no one had gone by him on the stairwells. So what would that mean if she got there before they were in position? He wasn't supposed to try and hold her off himself, was he? The thought made him more than a bit nervous…
"Oh, so you're the one putting out these little gadgets."
Chipp nearly jumped at hearing the calm, measured voice not far from him. Yet his own memory recognized it was male and not the voice of Testament, meaning it wasn't anyone who was a real threat, or so he assumed. His eyes drifted across the room and spotted the source.
It was the man from the cathedral again. Bare chested in spite of the cold, and pushing up his glasses slightly with one hand.
The ninja blinked, and forgot his voice for a moment. "Y…you? What are you doing here?"
"Surprised, eh?" He smirked as he walked in. He raised his other hand a moment later. Chipp saw it contained one of the bombs he had placed, only turned off now.
"This is the fifth one I found. The first two took a bit of searching, but after that I realized they were all on the support columns. So…is that the big plan? Wait for her to walk through here trying to take out that duct to Tiergarten Reactor, then blow her up along with the building?"
Chipp reacted in even more surprise to that. "How…how did you know about that?"
"Simple deduction. Found it in a crime novel once from prior to the Crusades. The criminals meant to electronically steal a great deal of money, then do something to ruin the computer systems to cover their tracks. The same principal works here. Do something that knocks out the power to this part of Germany and you're free to go where you will."
At that, the man lowered his hand and frowned.
"The real question…is how you not only knew about it, but why you declined to tell anyone about it. But that doesn't matter right now." He turned his hand over and let the bomb fall to the ground with a light thud. "All that matters is I'm not about to let you go through with it. I can't have you blowing up that Gear before I've had a chance to even meet with her face-to-face."
The young man stared a bit longer before frowning and sighing. "Look…I really don't have time for this. We're on a tight schedule and-"
"You're going to have to make time." The man answered as his hands went to his sides. A moment later, he brought them up and unfurled a pair of golden fans. Chipp hesitated again on seeing those. While he had been mostly preoccupied with Testament, from what he briefly saw in the Cathedral, this guy was somehow able to hold Sol off with those things. That wasn't good… "Because otherwise I'm going to keep going until I've found and disarmed every last bomb you set."
Hearing this made Chipp scowl. "Look, man, this isn't your business. Get out of here or you're going to regret it."
"It isn't your business either. And I'm not leaving until I've seen that Gear. Technically you're wasting my time talking to me when she could be here soon, so…"
Both fans brandished in front of him.
"I'll start if you don't want to."
Chipp cursed himself mentally for thinking he was so much in the clear without security he didn't hear this man come in to begin with, let alone give him this headache now. They really didn't need this. This entire operation had to be precise, and everyone involved had to be available to jump in if necessary. He didn't want to take the time to beat up anyone on the side, but if he was really disarming the bombs.
"What the hell is your deal, anyway?" He snapped after a moment. "What's the Gear to you? Why do you keep wanting to talk to her?"
"I'm tired of my life lacking so many answers." The man responded. "I'm tired of people running around deciding all matters of consequence and not letting those it impacts have any say in it. It was decided that I would be bred like a prize steer without my consent. It was decided where I would live, who would educate me, and what occupation I would have without my consent. My nation was destroyed and my people made an endangered species and the truth of what was behind it hidden and lost to history without my consent or that of anyone else. And now the one individual who may be able to answer a question about that is going to be destroyed without my consent."
Chipp opened his mouth to protest.
"To be honest, I don't know if you plan to kill her or relocate her, and either way is irrelevant." The man interrupted before he could speak. "Either way removes her from me. I'm not going to let that happen. I want answers. I want to shed light on who created the individuals like her in the first place and why she lives while the others are in living death."
The ninja groaned. "Listen, I don't know who you are or why you're crazy, but while I'm trying to save her, you're being some nutcase who's going to get himself killed, get most of those people out there killed, and ruin the whole plan to save her in the first place. So this is my last warning to you to get lost before I start-"
Chipp cut himself off. Without a word, the man in glasses snapped his hand back and flung one of the fans forward. His wrist snapped it in such a way it immediately became a whirling disk, and sailed straight for the man's head. Going wide eyed, he quickly swung his head out of the way, and was nearly a moment too late. Not only did the fan shoot by and easily slice through one of the vertically-placed girders in the room without losing any speed, but it still took off a few strands of his hair. As they slowly fluttered in front of his face, the fan returned to the man as he snatched it out of the air.
"I discovered attacking people while they're distracted talking makes fights go much faster too." The man in glasses stated.
Gritting his own teeth, Chipp straightened up and brandished his blade in front of him.
"Ok, smartass. You asked for it."
Ky took off like a shot the moment the code was committed. Even his natural speed didn't seem nearly fast enough to get out of there. After all, even with communications and monitoring down, there had still been more than ample time for a random officer or soldier to come by, see the men he had already disabled, and then catch him running out from the scene.
However, he was charging into the street less than fifteen seconds after throwing the command into the system, and the road he went along was already clear of military or police personnel. Up ahead, he could hear some growing clamor and shouting far down the street. Pretty soon, he was sure he'd run into people fleeing the opposite way, although he could deal with that. Nothing he hadn't handled before, after all. His only remaining concern is that his visibility was dimmed thanks to the falling snow. None of them had counted on it picking up into showers at this point. If it went into a full raging storm, then it would be hard both to see and hear anyone. But it might work to their advantage in producing additional cover…
A buzzing went off in his ear. Although none of them had been too easy about working with each other, before going out onto the field everyone had received the same earpiece transmitters that Johnny and his crew used. Rather crude compared to what the IPF was issued, but effective and running on coded channels. Even so, knowing how tight security had to be, Ky had suggested they only use them in emergencies. That made him feel a bit uneasy as he reached his ear and tapped it.
"This is Ky. What's wrong?"
"Last minute change of plans." The voice of Sol responded.
On hearing the words and tying them into who was speaking, Ky almost stumbled.
"Testament looks like he's got more fight in him than I anticipated. Help out Johnny first then come after me. I'll keep her busy until then."
Now Ky really did slow in his step. His eyes narrowed.
"…No, that's not the plan, Sol. You said both of us would go against her together."
"Plans change. You should know that."
His teeth grit. "Not here. You planned this all along, didn't you? Did you only need me to put in the Holy of Holies?"
"I am absolutely telling the truth about two things, Ky. One is that there is no way I can defeat her on my own without ripping apart half of this city myself. The other is that Johnny and many others will die unless you give them assistance against Testament. I'll leave the choice of believing me or not up to you."
"Sol! Don't-"
Too late. A blip of static went off in his ear, and he was gone.
The former Sacred Order member felt like ripping off the earpiece and smashing it. Even back in the days of the Crusades, Sol had the tendency to do his own thing. But here it was something else. He knew he was telling the truth about those things. He would know even if he hadn't said anything-that even he couldn't take Dizzy alone if she turned hostile. But he also knew he had to have planned this. He knew all along Testament would be too much for Johnny. He sprung this at the last minute to tie him up. But why? Why did he want to go against Dizzy alone?
What had he been trying to say to her back in the cathedral?
He didn't know. He only knew he had only moments to decide. He was reaching his turn in the street for him to either head to the parking garage or out in front of Tiergarten Theater; a choice between trusting Sol, both in the sense of what he was doing as well as staying alive against a Gear that powerful, and possibly letting another man, or multiple people, die. They may have been pirates, but they were still allies. They didn't deserve to be abandoned to a hopeless fight.
Hurry and decide, Ky. With this time limit, you might not have time for both if you hesitate but a moment…
To be continued...