A little explanation. I knew the situation in Syria was bad, but I didn't realize it was as bad as it was. So I had to make some changes at the last minute as a result of my research.

Also, I'm imagining Nigel with a slightly highbrow British accent, but really , so adjust your mental models accordingly.

36: Going Through Hell

Joe

"Do you believe that really is the Bride's sister?" Nigel asked, cracking open a bottle of water.

"It's possible," I admitted. "They're both superhuman."

"Both superhuman? Do you actually believe that video is real?"

"If I didn't, would I be here?" I asked him.

"True," he admitted. "But superhuman?"

"Stronger, faster, and much tougher than we are," I told him. "Plus they have special powers that are unique to each individual. What The Bride is doing actually isn't that far out there for them."

"Them?" Nigel asked. I nodded, and he asked, "Well, where did they come from? Real life is not a superhero movie. Most of the things that are supposed to make one a superhero are lethal."

"They're from another world," I said honestly.

"Another world?" Nigel asked, understandably skeptically. "Are you mad?"

I shook my head, knowing how insane I must have sounded. "It's a hell of a story. I don't even believe it myself, but they did a pretty good job trying to convince me. And what was that Sherlock said?"

"If you've thrown out the impossible, whatever is left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

"Exactly," I said, deciding to leave out the "from fiction" part for now. "Look, you can ask Ruby about it if you want to know."

"I think I will," Nigel said slowly, before realizing something else. "Wait, you said them?Are there more?"

"A few," I answered.

"Is Sam also-"

"Nope. Just a squishy human like you and me."

"You know, with all the fuss your friend has been raising, I would not be surprised if someone was already looking for her," Nigel said, putting aside the matter for the moment. "If my country is planning something, I have not heard of it, and in any case it would more likely be the Americans. They already have a strong presence nearby."

"Honestly, I would be glad to run into DEVGRU at this point," I told him. "I know those kids are paranoid about evil government, but I'd rather let the professionals take care of it and we can all ride out on a Blackhawk."

"Indeed," he agreed, going silent.

"So, what's the best way to find her?" I asked. I snapped my fingers. "Is Blackbeard still around?"

"If you are asking if Hassan is still in Raqqa," Nigel corrected, rolling his eyes, "Maybe. The phones don't really work anymore, so it's hard to contact anyone."

He put down his now-empty bottle of water. "Although in this case following the path of destruction may indeed be the best method."

"So, what do we do?"

He sighed. "You know what my job really is. I phone in troop movements when it's not too dangerous to do so."

"Come on, man, you used to be a Para," I reminded him. "Don't tell me you've gone soft."

"Even in this place, Six is a far easier employer," he admitted.

"Personal opinion?"

"Our options are extremely limited," he said, thinking about it for a minute. "A truck, I think. We load you, Sam, and the girl into the back, fill it with perhaps some kind of supplies, and drive through Islamic State territory with forged papers. We find your friend, put her in a box, and take her back."

He reached out and knocked over the bottle on the table. "Only problem is getting all of that together."

"Yeah."

"Seems the world has gone mad overnight."

"No shit."

Ruby Rose

"I managed to get us a truck," Nigel told us as we ate breakfast, which was the packaged food that we brought and it wasn't very good. "Not a lot of cargo, but we can say we're going to pick something up."

"Forged papers?" Joe asked.

"Not very good ones, but yes. Hopefully they won't look too closely."

"Wait, what's going on?" I asked, confused.

"Well, I'm going to load you three into the back of a truck and drive into Islamic State territory," Nigel said. "

"Just us?"

"Yes. I'm driving. Couldn't find anyone else." Nigel said ruefully. "I hope they don't think too much of my accent."

"That's the plan?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Hopefully we'll be able to get through all the checkpoints and meet someone we can trust in Raqqa," Nigel explained.

"What if they find out?" I asked.

"Then this could get exciting very quickly," Nigel said gravely.

We finished breakfast and headed outside, where an old rusty truck was driving up. It stopped and a dirty, bearded man got out. He had a conversation with Nigel in a language I didn't understand, then they embraced and he walked away quickly.

Nigel turned to us. "All right, pile into the back. Quickly now."

"Wait," he interrupted as I started climbing into the truck. "Are you really from another world?"

I looked at Joe, who paused in moving boxes and nodded at me.

I turned back to Nigel. "Yes. It's called Remnant."

His eyes went wide briefly but he stayed calm. "And is everyone like you and your sister?"

"What do you mean?" There were lots of ways people could be like us.

"Capable of, well, capable of fighting like that."

"Well, no, only some of us," I admitted. They said both me and Yang had a lot of potential, otherwise we wouldn't have ended up at Beacon. "But even people who can't are stronger than you are. No offence."

"None taken. I just can't believe I'm talking to an actual alien," Nigel said, waving me into the truck. "Well, I suppose it's just one more insane thing to add to the pile of insanity."

"No shit, eh?" Joe said, pulling me behind an old splintery crate. "Okay, guys, food and water is in the little cardboard box."

"What about the black bags?" Sam asked, hefting one.

"Insurance," Joe told us. "They aren't loaded. Remember where the safety on an AK is?"

"On the right side, push it down to fire," I recited.

"Right. You'll have to chamber a round first. And for the love of god, don't start shooting unless there's no other option."

"Remember, keep quiet and don't do anything dumb," Nigel reminded us before pulling the canvas cover down over the back of the truck.

So I was in the middle of a horrible war, not doing anything to help anyone except maybe my sister, riding in the back of truck trying to sneak into a city full of evil people to not do anything except get Yang and get out and it smelled bad back here.

This sucked.

Yang Xiao Long

I needed to escape.

Wherever this insane place was, I needed to get out of it. It was just a horrible place to be, a twisted perversion and a total disaster zone. It was impossible to describe. Unspeakable cruelty in a dead city, and just so much confusion on my part. I had so many questions, but I couldn't even try to answer them. I was running from people who I couldn't understand, who were after me for reasons I had no idea about.

I'd never felt so alive, but I'd never felt so dead either.

Was going north really the right way, or was it a trap? What was waiting up there? Where was up there?

I needed to get out of the city, that was for sure. I wouldn't get very far walking, especially in a desert. And if the city was this bad, who knew what was out there? I needed transportation. And as much as I wished I had Bumblebee with me, I knew that some kind of truck would be better.

A lone truck which might have been white at some point was sitting on the side the road. I approached it quickly. If it didn't work, I could find another one, but this was the least destroyed I'd seen. I opened the door, which wasn't locked.

This thing must have been ancient. There were lots of actual buttons and knobs, and what looked like a crude manual shifter in the centre. At least the steering wheel was more or less the same.

As I tried to find the start control, a man in military gear with a rifle sneaked up on the door. He knocked twice and I immediately opened the door into him and jumped out of the vehicle.

I was getting tired. He shouldn't have been able to get that close.

There were three others with him, all dressed in military fatigues and carrying rifles. As two of them checked on their friend, the third approached me, looking serious and seriously angry. "Are you Yang Xiao Long?"

"Who wants to know?" I asked, trying to look as threatening as possible. I could tell these guys weren't the same. They were probably their elite troops or something. I didn't really want a fight, but if they wanted it, I would give it.

"I'm a navy seal," he said, keeping a bit of distance.

"You're a furry sea mammal?" I snarked, cocking Ember Celica.

One of the others approached me. "Miss Long, you need to come with-" He grabbed my arm. I swung around and drove my fist into- or rather through- his face.

The other soldier brought his rifle up and opened fire. I returned the favour, punching a nice hole in his chest from where I was standing.

The guy on the ground shouted something, but I didn't hear him. I rushed him and his friend. The standing soldier brought up his arm to block and I felt bone shatter when I hit. I hit him again with my left, crushing his ribcage, and finished him off with a blow to the head.

The last soldier, on the ground, scrambled to his feet. I didn't give him a chance to get away, grabbing him and tossing him into a wall repeatedly until he stopped moving.

The men were carrying weapons, vests and bags full of supplies I didn't have the time or the stomach to check. I didn't know where I was going but weapons were always handy and I might need food if they had any. Trying to ignore how pulverized the bodies were, I took what I could and threw it into the truck before getting in beside.

This time, I managed to find the starter, which was a key slot on the side of the steering column. The previous owner had left the key in it, and I turned it all the way. The engine sputtered once. I turned the key again, noticed it was kind of sprung at the end, and held it there for a while until the engine came to life with a weird knocking sound.

I threw it into what I hoped was the right gear and lurched off toward the edge of the city.

Firehawk242: We are squishy meatbags.

LoneWolf218: Maybe.

Guest: That's the point. Might have been a pun.