One of his boys burst through his tent flap, yelping about an intruder. Did he not know that it was nearly midnight? A well-manicured hand swept back glossy jet black hair, as the young man took out his straight razor positioned himself in front of his mirror.

"Sir, you have to take this seriously! The crazies got themselves some armored aura guy, and he's just tossing us around! We need help!" Squealed the boy, like a pig. Pathetic.

The man's razor graced his skin, cleaving hairs smooth and flawlessly. A perfect shave. "And? Don't most of you have auras of your own?"

"That's not the point!" Clawed the desperate boy. His hands were knocked off, as they were not worth his time. "It's a templar!"

The man paused. Carefully, he squatted, and with an dirty smile, pinched the cheek of the boy with enough pain force the boy to tear up. "Then why didn't you say so?" He shoved him to the ground. "Tell the boys I'll be out in a moment. Been waiting for another one."


Dove was driving a truck through most of the compound, taking careful routes to not hit any of the boys. No need for casualties, and just a good day to go for a drive. He popped open his canteen and took another swig as he crashed through another tent. Dear brothers did it feel good to drive demolition. Another swing around the edge of the barrier and standing where he had punched the hole was a soldier. That was the only way to explain him. Not that he was in regulations, but this man knew what he was doing, in this sea of boys. An eel in a school of minnows. Wearing full Atlassian armor: stark white armor plating on his arms, legs, and torso, with that inferior helmet they insisted on wearing. Few issues with his armor though. In red, he had painted on his chest plate the word "rot" in all caps and had scraped in six tally marks onto the glass of his helmet. Dove revved the engine as he continued towards the man. Either he'd move, or he'd get hit by a truck. The man raised his hand an aura. Looks like it was the latter then. Dove slammed on the gas.

And slammed into the snow. He groggily sat himself up and saw that he was still holding onto the steering wheel, but he wasn't in the truck anymore. In fact, he didn't see the truck anywhere, and just saw stray pieces laying around in the snow, as if the truck had suddenly turned into a deck of cards. Dove watched as a hood flipped over and the soldier stood back up out of the snow, his rifle nestled into his shoulder. Dove stumbled back to his feet and stared down the man. "I'm just here to talk."

"Yeah, sure."

Dove realized that he didn't know where Penny rolled off to. Aura up until he can secure her. "I know the truck thing looks bad, but desperate measures calls for desperate times, you know?" To Dove's amazement, the man slung his rifle behind his back. And then pulled out a machete.

"I'm going to have fun with you." Snickered the exposed mouth. "Number seven."

Dove drew his sword. "We're doing this, aren't we?"

"You know it better than my kind so," he lunged forward, clanging off of Dove's parry, "let's see you dance, monkey."

Dove smacked his sword against the man's left forearm, bouncing it off of the man's aura. "Fine." Parry, parry, back step, tango, and another strike to the man's armored arm. "May I know the name of my killer?"

The man grinned as he pushed down on Dove's guard. "Rot." Gritting in force, he bashed their knuckles into each other has he pushed back.

Dove took this opportunity to strike the man's forearm again. And his cylinder plopped out of the firing mechanism into the snow. Along with some smaller part. This was going to be a pain to pick up after. "Nice name. Name's Bird."

The man blocked another strike inbound for his forearm. "Didn't ask, number seven."

"Fair." Strike number five. The man was already preemptively moving to block his arms and flexing his aura to reduce damage. "So, disassembly? Must be nice."

"Clever dog." Rot scored a clean slash against Dove's pauldron, throwing sparks into the cold night sky. "Figured it out already!" The two traded blows, one to the left forearm, for one to the right thigh.

"Not that hard. You had no fear, and basically are flaking pieces off my gun and armor." Dove took a sidestep back, and the pauldron and thigh plates dropped off of him, along with the belts holding them in place. "Bit too obvious for my tastes, but effective, nonetheless."

"Very acute." Rot deflected a few more blows. "Though I can tell you fight a bit more reserved than the last few templars that came through here."

"Always was told that." Dove went in for the seventh hit.

"But like the rest," Rot locked Dove's sword between his arms, soaked in aura, "Y'all too dependent on your-"

Dove's elbow spiked elbow guard dug into Rot's teeth and lips. His head jerked back, and Dove let go of his sword to grab Rot's collar, and began slamming bloody metal into enamel. It wasn't long before Rot's aura rotted away, and spurted blood. Dove dropped the man into the snow and looked up at the boys cowering in the fort. "What are you looking at?" He rolled his shoulder. Probably going to be sore after this. "Pick him up. I'm here to talk, remember?" Dove walked off and began strapping his armor back to himself.

"I thought you were a goner there." Whispered a soft voice through the static.

Dove instantly dropped the pauldron and kneeled beside Penny. "Oh, thank the brothers you're alright! I thought his semblance might have made you into bolts!"

"He could have. Though I think his semblance can only affect one system at a time."

"I am so glad I didn't plug you in." He grabbed her and wrapped her in his arms.

"I am too, now." Murmured Penny through the hug. "For now, get yourself taken care of. I'm fine."

"Right, right." Dove lifted his mask and fired out a bloody snot globule. "Will do."