"…oh."

Craft spoke as though he had told an interesting bit of trivia, his eyes widening in a merely casual manner. Stylish, having spread his hands dramatically as he revealed the Novaregna's origin, lost his smile a second or two after Craft's reaction.

"…'oh'? 'Oh'? 'Oh'! Is that it?" he exclaimed in disbelief, his voice climbing to higher levels of volume.

Craft recoiled little, in an almost comical manner, at Stylish's outburst, "What do you mean, 'is that it'?"

Stylish reached in hands out in a disbelieving manner, as though he wanted to throttle Craft into having a bigger reaction, "You know what I mean you creatively-sterile dullard! I just told you that you created a new additional to a collection of legendary weapons that existed since the dawn of the Empire, and your reaction is 'Oh'? 'Oh'!? You should be stunned silent, you should be shaking with disbelief, you should be claiming it isn't possible! How are you not more surprised by this!?"

Craft cast his gaze up, keeping his awareness and pistol on Stylish however, as he genuinely considered the inquisition.

"Hmm…good question. Maybe I'm holding back my complete and utter surprise by the fact you could be trying to deceive me."

Even as he said the words, however, Craft couldn't help but doubt them himself; what reason would Stylish have to lie to him about his recreation of an ancient artefact? If he was trying to unbalance or anger him, he would have belittled his achievements, not explain to him they were in the realm of impossibility. Maybe the opposite was true, and in his old life he would have reacted with surprise and disbelief. However, his own ego, as it was now, appeared to be rather strong, since even as he reasoned that Stylish might be telling the truth, he had not strongly reacted.

The doubt may not have been strong, but it was there, and Stylish's sharp mind was able to latch onto it. His annoyance overcome by his usual smugness, he chuckled, straightening back up and smoothing down his lab coat.

"You hide it well, but I can see even you have your limits towards surprises."

"Well, if you were expecting this to be some sort of earth-moving revelation, I'm afraid I've let you down; but don't worry," he pulled back the hammer of his gun, the click echoing in the silence of the standoff, "I'll be putting you out of your misery very soon."

"Oh…" Stylish looked rather downcast, "Really?"

Craft smiled cheerfully, "Really."

"No chance of any last, parting words from either of us?"

"Careful Master Craft; I sense two presences coming towards our location. Stylish is clearly trying to keep you distracted so they have time to get here."

Craft pretended to think, chewing the corner of his mouth. He then locked eyes with Stylish, and the rival scientist sensed his answer, for in Craft's eyes was the cold, unfeeling emotion of purely efficient hatred. He had only time to raise his hands in futile defence of himself.

BANG

Or so it had seemed.

For Craft, his sense of surprise had just heightened upon seeing Stylish holding the fired bullet between his thumb and forefinger. His excited smiling face showed his prevailing emotion of arrogance in spite of his shaking hand.

His gloved hand to be exact, which bore the Imperial Arm Perfector, known for its power to increase both the wearer's finger dexterity, and their speed.

"Well…" Stylish giggled, like a child who just figured out how a new toy worked, "My Imperial Arm really does have a wide range of stylish uses."

Craft would have quickly fired again had his senses not picked up on an attack; if he hadn't dodged backwards in that moment, it would have been his arm to have been sheared off by a giant pair of scissor blades. Instead, it was his gun that was forcibly halved.

"Yes Kaku!" cheered Stylish, Craft getting a good look at the buff man with an afro haircut, comically oversized metal arms and a massive pair of scissors in the hands of the latter. An excited leer was on the muscular cyborg's face as he swung the flat of the scissors into Craft, who only had time to cross his arms in as much defence as he could get before he was swatted away, his feet skidding across the grass.

"Your turn Toby!"

Even with Stylish's mocking commands, Craft had Inimicus to tell him of the second opponent standing behind him; with one arm held behind his own back, 'Toby' lashed out with his other arm, which had sprouted a metal blade. Still skidding backwards, Craft was able to turn himself about to slash at Toby as he made his own move, the former's sword and latter's blade slashing together in a shower of sparks. Craft saw a helmeted and bespectacled young man with a robe-like garb before him, a calm little grin on his face, before he used the momentum of his halted backwards-skid to end the blade lock, shoving Toby backwards. The cyborg landed deftly next to Kaku, the two facing Craft as Stylish cackled behind them.

"Excellent you two, perfect timing!"

"Thank goodness they got here in time Doctor Stylish."

"Yeah, we were really worried for a moment."

"Oh yeah," Stylish cast a glance at Me and Mimi with disinterested, "forgot you two were still here."

"Wha…?"

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," sniffed Stylish, ignoring their hurt looks and focusing back on Craft, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward to pronounce his smirk, "These two fine fellows are my Bishop and Knight. You may have taken out my knight Trooma but he was always more of a sneaker than a scuffler. Against these two's better expertise in fighting, you aren't going to last long Victor."

"…tch…" Craft sized up his two opponents, noting the way they carried themselves confidently and ready to pounce at any given moment. In particular, he looked over the scissors that Kaku wielded; they were comically oversized and had a panda sticker on the purple handles, but Craft knew he was looking at an Imperial Arm. Getting hit with that would be a very bad turn of events.

"Okie-dokie you two, I'm gonna go on ahead. Take special care of him for me would you?" he kissed the air towards them in an encouraging manner, "Very special care."

Kaku stroked the blades of his scissors with a robotic hand whilst Toby spread his footing out with his hands behind his back. Craft kept his shifting gaze on the two of them, but still took note of Stylish's comment.

"What do you mean 'going on ahead'?"

"Well, you don't honestly expect me not to suspect you might have something in that dingy old manor of yours worth looking for. After all, you came back somehow, and I'm betting it's somewhere in that house."

At first, Craft inwardly scoffed; the Novaregna wasn't something physical. According to Inimicus it was a disembodied network that his mind was now a part of. It couldn't be destroyed because there was nothing of it that could be destroyed, and he couldn't be destroyed he'd just keep coming back from…

The pit. The pit beneath his study where he had had wakened up after his brushes with death. Given the fact, it was practically a certainty it had a connection to the Necromotus. Right now, the hole in the floor serving as its entrance had been covered up quickly with a de-legged table from the main hall nailed into the floor around it, but that wouldn't stop Stylish from finding it, nor going looking for it.

And indeed, Stylish set about that task immediately, snapping his fingers. From the treeline came an odd rumbling and a truly perverse mode of transportation came from the trees. It was a nine-man crew of modified humans, all running on their hands and feet. They were linked together by collars around their necks connected via grid of iron poles, keeping them all clustered together so that they could supported a platform featuring a box-covered seat on their backs.

Crafts face scrunched up into a look of pure disgusted bewilderment as the 'chariot' zoomed by Stylish, the scientist hoisting himself up onto its platform even though it didn't come to a halt in the slightest. His two remaining reconnaissance units panicked and jumped on the back to stay close to their beloved master, although Stylish didn't pay this any heed.

Craft's eyes widened and he lunged forward, his hand outstretched.

"Oh no you-AWK!" Kaku swung his close scissors so that the flat side slapped into Craft's face, knocking him back and stopping him from grabbing onto the chariot. Craft crashed onto his back, rolling backwards onto his feet. He was about to reach for his gun when he remembered it was lying in two pieces elsewhere, so he had to settle for glaring at Stylish, who brought his chariot to a stop with a tap for his foot all so he could once again point dramatically at Craft and smirk.

"Okay, new plan everyone; I'll go looking for some secret scientific projects to uncover. You lot beneath me, you'll make me there. Kaku, Toby, you'll deal with the Living Dead right there. And Craft…" his eye glinted with malicious excitement, "Be dealt with."

He tapped the chariot's floor and it took off again, leaving Kaku and Toby standing in front of Craft. He switched his gaze between the two of them before his expression and tone grew exasperated at the same time they tensed up to attack.

"Oh, not this tag-team bullshit again!"

The two cyborgs came at Craft at once, their smiles showing just how excited they were at the command to rip him apart.

The chariot pulled up in courtyard of the estate, Stylish hopping off in a single bound. He squared up to the building with a disgusted leer.

"Oh Victor, ever the uninspired one. Could have done something much better with this old place…"

Caught up in his fashion-driven mind set, Stylish ignored He and Mimi as they got down a lot more tentatively.

"Doctor Stylish," inquired the far-sighted one, "what is it we're looking for?"

"Anything that looks even remotely like Craft's handiwork. Speaking of which," he turned and fixed the reconnaissance units with a withering glare, "Why didn't you two tell me it was Craft before?"

The two of them grew flustered at the question, only Mimi capable of answering, "Well…we hadn't met him before. I didn't know what he sounded like."

"Or looked like," chimed in Me, "I'm sorry Doctor Stylish."

Stylish huffed in annoyance, "Well, I suppose you both have a point. Can't be helped now, and anyway, I'm sure he's little more than bloodied pieces on the grass." Stylish smiled, imagining Craft as such, his limbs and torso stacked in a pile with his head on top, done so by his Bishop and Rook in preparation for his return.

In actuality, this was proving far harder for Toby and Kaku then they had imagined.

For one thing, Craft wouldn't hold still. For as fast as Toby was, Craft was able to at least match him, whilst Kabu's beefier frame meaning he had to put in a lot of effort for the chances he got to take a swing with his scissors, each one missing completely.

Still, Craft was similarly as a disadvantage by their very advantages; Toby proved too fast for him to land any fatal hits, and he couldn't compose a good enough strategy to combat him with those all-cutting scissors increasing the risk factor and thus taking half of his attention.

Kaku growled and snipped the scissors at Craft, forcing him backwards before Toby slid from beside Kaku and slashed out as Craft as soon as he landed due to his dodging manoeuvre. Craft slashed with his sword, catching Toby's blade and knocking it aside, but this only prompted the cyborg to spin around, his other arm sprouting a blade for a second slash. Craft was able to swing his sword back in the other direction to block this as well. His reflexes failed however to stop Toby before he lifted his leg up and kicked Craft in the chest, sending him skidding backwards, tearing up the grass with his feet. A presence caught his attention as he went backwards and Craft looked behind himself to see that Kaku had defied his massive size and somehow gotten behind Craft. Swinging the scissors, Kaku attempted to slice Craft in two, but the scientist ducked down as he continued to skid back. A few wisps of hair were freed, but otherwise he was untouched.

Still, it had been a close call, and it wasn't even over yet as Toby darted forward as Kaku finished his slash, both his blades poised for another onslaught of slashes, Craft able to keep up only by the skin of his teeth to deflect them. A shadow cast overhead and Inimicus spoke to him;

"The one named Kaku is attempted an aerial attack, watch out."

Craft waited until the split second Toby took to stop his attacks to note interfere with Kaku's before dodging backwards, avoiding the scissors as they cut into the ground. But Kaku simply wrenched the blades apart, and with the edge of the weapon facing towards Craft, it forced him to use the flat of his blade as a shield against his chest, launching him into the air slightly. Kaku's hand then shot out suddenly to grab Craft by the ankle, crushing around whatever passed for his body's bone. Craft grunted in pain before Kaku tugged on the limb and slammed him onto his back.

"Get him Toby!"

The other cyborg complied, jumping up into the air before coming back down at Craft, his arms crossed in front of his face to slash his blades in an X-shape.

Craft's fingers spread from his free palm and he thrust it upwards, unleashing the concussive blast from the hand's stone. It knocked the surprised Toby high into the air, Kaku grunting as he felt the aftereffect hit him and causing him to lose his grip on Craft's foot, who rolled backwards onto his feet, skipping back slightly for extra measure.

Toby landed back on the ground as Kaku wrenched the scissors out of the ground in their entirety, the former frowning and the latter gritting his teeth.

"This is getting us nowhere!"

"Doesn't that Imperial Arms of yours have some special ability or something?"

"I dunno! I only just got these things."

Craft's eyebrows peaked up.

Special ability…

"Whatever!" snapped Kaku, readying his weapon, "Let's just get him!"

He yelled and charged forward, Toby joining him after quickly rolling his eyes in exasperation. Craft gave a quick glance to his hand, flexing the fingers before looking back at the charging opponents, in particular the scissors held by Kaku. Stylish had given a good point; it was kind of hard to forget the names of Imperial Arms. And although he was present due to one, he technically wasn't physically wielding an Imperial Arms.

He tensed himself in the brief moment he had to, gathering strength before swinging his sword out at Toby before he himself had a chance to attack first. Craft's swing clashed against the cyborg's twin blades and knocked him to the side as Kaku stabbed out with the scissors.

"Die you wretch!"

Craft dodged to the opposite side of where he had knocked away Toby, shooting out in his hand as the blade went by him to touch the weapon. Kaku's eyes widened in surprise as Craft yelled out a word unknown to him;

"Extase!"

"Nothing."

"Nadda."

"Zilch!"

Stylish cursed as he peaked systematically into the various rooms of the estate's family home, finding nothing that could be of importance, even as his two assistances pushed aside and wrecked furniture to help him.

After the master bedroom's mattress had been ripped open by Me, the feathers scattered feverishly by Mimi, Stylish grinded his teeth together, feeling himself grow frustrated.

"Ugh…" he clasped his chin, "If I was a drab, uninspired nutcase, where would I hide my most valuable work…"

Light suddenly burst through the windows of the bedroom, startling Stylish into averting his gaze. Mimi screamed and covered his hyper-sensitive eyes whilst Me's tamer eyesight meant she held back her curses.

"What is that?"

Shielding his eyes with a hand, Stylish turned his gaze best he could in the direction of the light's source.

"That is Extase's trump card my dear. Looks like Kaku figured out how to active it. If Craft somehow wasn't on the ropes before, he sure is now."

The intense light illuminating the entire light unnaturally, Kaku and Toby where blinded by their close proximity to the source.

"My eyes!" screamed the former, letting go of the scissor's handles to attempt to cover them. But Craft, with his eyes clamped tightly shut and directing himself forward on memory, placed his hand on Kaku's shoulder and unleashed a point blank blast from his palm. The cyborg's shoulder was sheared away by the concussive force, the arm flying away. Kaku's scream grew louder before Craft reversed the grip in his sword and stabbed it down through Kaku's other shoulder. The sheer strength of the act forced Kaku onto his knees; blindly, desperately and weakly he pawed at Craft's arm with his remaining one, but the doctor impassively twisted his blast, sending a tremor of shock through Kaku's body, reducing his saliva to froth before the sword was wrenched out to let him fall onto his chest.

Toby blinked and rubbed away the shine in his eyes, clearing his vision enough to see that, in his predicament, Craft had laid waste to his partner, and was now looking in his direction, a glint in his eye.

In the next instant, it wasn't Toby this time who darted forward with a speedy attack. The cyborg barely had time to bring one of his blades around to block Craft's downwards swing. Toby hissed in shock, bending back to the attack as Craft calmly smirked at him through the blade lock. The cyborg growled and deployed one of his secret techniques early to get rid of his aggressor; he opened his mouth and the barrel of a gun popped out directly at Craft's face. It made Craft's smile fade but it didn't surprise him enough to stop him darting his head to the side to avoid the shot. Toby broke the blade lock by lashing out with the arm involved, pushing away Craft's sword and attacking with his second blade. Craft dodged his head back from this attack as well, with his counterattacking downwards slash being faster than Toby's own, and as a result the cyborg suddenly found himself with one forearm less.

Blood spurted from the metal rimmed stump and although it was physically just an inconvenience for Toby, his eyes and his breath quickened at the shock that the man had dealt such a blow to him.

Taking advantage of his adversary's shock, Craft swung his sword back out a second time, intending to cleave the cyborg's head off. Toby glared at the incoming attack and his severed stump suddenly sprouted a blade, the point connecting with the edge of Craft's weapon and stopping it cold. Toby smirked in relief but it was frozen on his face by yet another surprise when Craft aimed the palm of his other hand over the connecting points of the blades and unleashed the concussive blast. Toby bellowed in shock as he was shoved backwards, the cloth of his now scorched metallic chest blasted to tatters. His boots skidded against the ground until he came to a merciful stop.

What wasn't merciful, however, was the damage done to his body; although he couldn't actually feel it, he could still understand it as his robotic body was now nearly unresponsive. His gears whirred together is desperation to mesh together again and he couldn't stand up from his slouching posture. All he could do was glare at Craft, who flexed the fingers of the weapon-like hand, ethereal looking smoke rising from the palm.

"What the hell…?"

"Don't look so surprised son," Craft smiled, "After all, we're both no longer what we once were."

Toby smiled with vicious rage.

"No…" he grounded out, "but I like to believe I'm a bit better."

Craft merely arched an eyebrow as he continued to smirk before darting forward and lunging forward with a stab, driving his sword straight through Toby's torso. Blood leaked from Toby's literally nerveless face, trying to twist his malfunction-impaired arm towards Craft's neck, but the scientist merely pulled the sword out a little before shoving it all the way back into Toby's chest. Toby's body bent over further against his wishes before Craft drew his leg up and knocked him onto his back with a kick, before crouching down next to him to rain down numerous more stabs into his chest. Blood leaked out from beneath the cyborg, coating the grass in a red puddle. Craft's hand was on Toby's throat, keeping him pinned throughout the entire process of rapid impalement.

Over twenty times Craft pumped the sword up and down, and it amazed him at how much blood Toby had lost and yet was still able to glare definitely up at him. Craft got to one knee, keeping his sword through Toby's body as he looked down impassively at his foe, before cracking a smile.

"Gotta say, you are real sturdy."

Toby smirked right back up.

"I owe it all to the Doctor. I owe a lot to the Doctor."

He struck out with his remaining arm, which Craft grabbed the wrist of before pulling his sword from Toby's body and slashing out with it to cut this arm off as well. Craft looked at the severed arm he now held and shook it as he looked back down at Toby.

"See this. This is what you owe him."

"Then so be it."

Toby's foot suddenly sprouted an axe-shaped blade and his leg suddenly shot up towards him further than a human body should be able to bend and contort. Craft saw it coming out of the corner of his eye and dodged backwards, the blade taking off several snippets of his hair. Toby's other foot also popped out a blade and the cyborg was suddenly spinning around on the ground like a whirlwind, the blades from his feet slicing through the air. Craft shot back to his feet as he darted backwards to avoid getting sliced up, but his sword was less fortunate; the blade was sliced apart chunk by chunk by Toby's spinning, sparks flying at each separation. By the time Toby stopped spinning and knelt down on the ground, Craft only had a tiny sliver of his sword remaining.

He looked at which wrecked weapon in dismay before back at Toby. He had to admit; even with his missing arms, his predatory crouch and the blood running from his multitude of injuries certainly made him look quite intimidating. Not that Craft was intimidated, just feeling the disadvantage of having lost two out of his three weapons.

"Craft, I need to tell you something."

It was Inimicus, and Craft knew he had mentally commanded the disembodied entity not to report back unless Stylish was close to stumbling on the cavern. His eyes widened as Inimicus confirmed the worst…

…that Stylish had figured out if Craft had hidden something anywhere, it would be where he could get to it quickly. Which is why he had his Me open the door to the corridor that lead down to Craft's study.

"Ah…" Stylish smirked, hands on hips, "here we go. If there's anywhere Victor would hole himself up for his private sanctuary, it would be down there."

Mimi peered out from behind the Doctor.

"Down there?" she cringed apprehensively, "Looks spooky."

"Well, between the three of us, Victor was never known for his home decor skills. Just look at this whole place."

"What I mean is, couldn't it be filled with traps?"

Stylish drew back the foot he had just extended.

"Hmm…good question. Craft's never relied on simple tricks before, but then he's never come back from the dead before. Me, you see anything?"

Me peered down the corridor, leaning forward slightly as he did.

"Nothing out of the ordinary Master Stylish."

Hmm…all the same, I prefer a quick test," he smiled charmingly at Me's exposed back, "Look alive then mate!"

He gave the enhanced human a push as he turned to look around in confusion, and Me stumbled forward into the hallway with a yelp. He froze at the tension, teetering on one foot, biting his lip in preparation for anything that could jump out at him.

Nothing happened after a few moments, so Stylish straightened his coat and walked by Me with his hands behind his back and merry skip in his step. Mimi looked at her fellow enhanced being and coughed into her hand, so he straightened up, feeling a bit silly, and the two followed after their master.

Oh shit, thought Craft. Even though the Cavern's exact function was still a mystery to even him, Stylish's Perfector meant he could likely tamper with it regardless, and that could lead to a dire situation for him.

He had to get back there, now.

He could probably sprint back to his estate, what with his enhanced speed, but there was still the issue of Tobi. The cyborg was still seething with anger at him, looking quite demonic with blood leaking from the holes in his body, and would pounce after him the moment he would attempt to run.

He had to make sure he wouldn't come after him, and with his gun and sword in pieces, that left him with the one weapon literally in his hand.

One quick blast should finish the already battered cyborg, and then Craft would be free to dash back to stop Stylish before he could do any real damage.

But he would have to be quick, and that relied on getting Toby in a spot where he couldn't escape the area of the blast. And to do that, Craft decided to resort to a few of his more creative insults.

"Come on then you tin-headed twerp; you want me, I'm ready," Craft brought his fists up, and Toby took the provocation. He grinned hatefully, spat out a clump of blood and charged at Craft. The barrel of the gun peaked back out to fire at the scientist, who dodged his head to the side, smirking as he did. A blade popped out of Toby's left arm stump, drawn back and ready for a strike. Craft was ready with his own however, thrusting out his open palm, the stone within it glowing brightly. Toby's eyes widened in horror as he realized Craft had lured him into a situation he had no time to escape.

And Craft knew it to, if his soft, satisfied smile was anything to believe.

"Gotcha."

CRACKUNTCH

The first thing to go through Craft's mind was; hang on, that's not the sound my hand-cannon makes.

The second was the realisation that his arm had been seized in the middle by a massive metal hand, and from the sensation gained, the action had snapped his arm apart, if not completely mushed its insides. Craft didn't have time to worry about that however, as the broken limb was suddenly torn off, blood spewing from his stump. Craft looked at it, somehow more bewildered than shocked, then at the one who had disarmed him.

Kaku grinned broadly shaking Craft's arm about.

"Flimsy little man," he drawled, "Thought you'd be built tougher if you were able to put me down for that long."

He cast his eyes down at the massive wound in his shoulder, a line of sight that was shared with Toby, who regained some of his lucidity at his ally returning.

"I thought you were out for the count Kaku."

"So did I," the beefy one chuckled, "but I guess I'm tougher than even I knew."

"That's the Doctor for you," nodded Toby, "So let us both repay him by finishing what this one started."

"Agreed. And this time I'm not using those tacky scissors to do the job. After all…" his grinned grew as vicious as Toby's as he cracked his metal knuckles, "We don't want him to die too quickly on us."

So they were going to drag this out? Make his suffering last? Craft rolled his eyes.

Typical.

Craft, Stylish is nearly upon the cavern, Inimicus warned.

…and even more so.

Craft sagged. No weapons, no time, no way to get out of this. These two were going to kill him, and if Stylish tampered with the cavern, he wouldn't be able to…

Revive there.

Craft lifted his gaze back towards the two brutalized cyborgs and a thin smile spread across his mouth. It was sudden enough to make the two of them stop in their tracks.

"Can I ask you two something; you were criminals, right, before all…" he gestured with his remaining hand, "This?"

Toby frowned, "Yeah."

Craft snorted, "Yeah, I gathered as much. That's how he always got his lab rats."

Kaku snorted, "Sticks and stones pal, sticks and stones."

"Oh, no, you misunderstand; he's the one who coined the phrase for you lot."

A tremor went through Toby's body and his smile lessened.

"Yep," Craft winced in faux-sympathy, "he told me so himself. A dime a dozen he liked to brag about."

"I know what you're trying to do, and it's not working."

"No?" Craft titled his head to the side, "Well you can believe whatever you like, but I know what Stylish believes in, and let me tell you it starts and ends with how many bottom-feeders he can get by telling a few fibs about freedom and purpose."

"Cool it boy," Kaku warned, seeing the bubbling spite in Toby rising, "Remember, we want to take our sweet time with this fool."

Craft suddenly sauntered over to Toby, leering directly at the cyborg's face.

"The only thing Stylish has ever needed from you lot is to be a nice, helpless, rat, ready for the slicing. That…and a pretty little thing."

Toby lost it.

As Kaku yelled in protest, his blade shot out, shone in the moonlight, and cut into Craft's face.

"Yes!" Stylish cried as he saw what lay within Craft's study; the legless table. Something that out of place was clearly being used to cover something up, and Stylish was all too happy to move it to the side.

"Me, Mimi, move this thing out of the way, quick!"

"Yes sir!" the two intoned, before the crouched down and pushed on the edge of the table. Their shared feeling to soaring usefulness faded when they found their efforts ineffective, the table staying firmly where it was. Stylish looked on, still smiling.

"Kiddies…is there something is the matter?"

"No!" Me answered, very quickly, "We're just…" he gaze another push on the table, but like before, it didn't move.

"Me…Mimi…" Stylish said, very slowly, "I am a hair's breath away from finding out the secret of my rival's final creation, one that I know for a fact drained resources from funds across the Empire, but I find myself impeded by a certain two people's inability to move a simple table. Now, I try not to get angry, but…"

"Wait, Doctor Stylish!" Me implored, "I missed something! Look!"

He gestured at the edges of the table, and Stylish saw a ring of studs facing upwards around them.

The table had been nailed down.

"Ah. Oh course, Craft really doesn't half-ass anything. And speaking of which, Me, why didn't you see these before?"

The Doctor had to try very hard not to scream it, but the words still made Me flinch.

"I'm sorry Doctor…I didn't have time to…we were just so eager to…"

Stylish pinched his forefingers and thumb together and traced it quickly through the air, silencing Me.

"Move. The both of you. Now."

Incredibly cowed, Me and Mimi shuffled to the side as Stylish crouched by the table. He flexed his gloved fingers and got to work, using the added flexibility and precision of the Imperial Arm gloves to work his thin human nails between the tops of the instrumental nails, prying them free. One-by-one they popped off, until one remained.

"Finally," breathed Stylish, gripping the nail head, "Let's see what you've done down there Victor."

He yanked the last nail up and Craft suddenly smashed up through the table, throwing shards of wood into the air where he himself was now suspended. Stylish's smile froze as he found himself looking at Craft's open palm, and the white glow of the stone within it.

At first, Kaku had just been annoyed as Toby having struck down Craft when they had intended to take their time ripping him apart.

But then he had grown shocked as he saw what happened to the corpse with the bisected face.

It had suddenly combusted with no sound at all, turning into ash from first its head before the effect spread across his body. Soon, only an outline of ash remained.

"What the hell…?" he muttered, "What was that?"

The surprise had shaken Toby out of his wrath and he was as equalled stunned, "I don't know. Maybe Doctor Stylish will if we explain-"

A distant explosion reached their eyes and they whipped around in the direction of its origin.

"That's where Doctor Stylish went!" Kaku exclaimed in panic, "He might be in trouble! We must get there."

Toby was about to vocalize his agreement was something caught his attention; a metallic glint in the darkness of the forest.

"…hey…"

A burning yellow beam shot out, striking him in and through the forehead. The cyborg was dead in an instance and Kaku watched his corpse was flung backwards before breaking into a panic, searching for where the shot came from.

This meant he didn't look up at the figure pouncing towards him from the darkness until they had brought both fists down onto his skull, crushing it into his body and his body into his legs, grotesquely compacting him.

The figure stood over her kill, cracking her furry knuckles before looking in the direction of the estate, a glint in her eye.

The world was blurred as Stylish came back after his split second unconsciousness. He felt lighter somehow and there was ringing in his ears. He craned his neck up to see the outline of someone, Me perhaps, charge towards someone else, only for the man's throat to get grabbed and simultaneously crushed by the person he had been running at. It was as his body toppled back that Stylish was able to see the second person.

Now his vision cleared and he saw it was Craft, who observed his handiwork impassively; the right side of Stylish's torso had been blown away along with the same side of his face, his eye socket containing a pulverized eye. His right arm had been dislocated by the impact and it hung grotesquely to compliment the damage done to him.

Looking up at him now, Stylish had enough clarity now for a new emotion to seep over him; fear. It was almost like he was only now truly seeing what Craft was, here, standing before him now.

A dead man.

His hand fumbled into his coat pocket, grasping for the one thing that could keep him alive now but as soon as he had drawn out the tiny vial of liquid, Craft's foot shot out and pinned the hand to the wall. Keeping his foot on the wrist, Craft reached out and picked up a splintered piece of the table, a stake with a jagged edge. He held it ready like a knife, taking the time to remove a few stray flakes with his thumbnail before turning his gaze on Stylish. It was a calm and content look, with no flicker of mercy.

Stylish was done for. His years of research and experimentation had failed to save him. So he could only ask, "What is it?"

Craft leaned closer until they were faced-to-face, and he brought the stake up.

"Mine."

The spray of blood from Stylish's throat decorated the wall as the stake moved. Stylish felt blood on his lips as he leered up in his death throes at Craft, whose own expression remained unchanged, before he slashed stake back a second time across Stylish's nose, shredding it.

A thrice and forth time the stake was slashed as the same speed, before Craft decided to give in and unleashed a rain of cuts upon Stylish's face. He didn't stop until Stylish looked like a rabid rat swarm had taken to his face. Blood was flicked outwards, decorating the walls on either side of Craft, until a stray speck landed on his face. It was then Craft decided to stop, looking down at the remnants of Stylish's face as blood poured from it.

He felt…different. Although maybe not different as what he felt wasn't alien but instead…familiar. Like a weight not just taken from his shoulders…

"Master?"

Craft shook his head a little and blinked, "Inimicus. Sorry, zoned out for a minute," he looked down at Stylish's form, "Can you tell if…?"

"He is dead. Likely at the moment you first cut him."

"…I wanted to be sure."

Craft straightened up, taking his foot from Stylish's wrist to let it slump down, the vial it limply held clattering to the ground.

In turn, this prompted Mimi, who had been huddled against the wall in horror, to finally bolt, gasping in terror as she did. Craft watched her run out of his study out of the corner of his eye and breathed out calmly through his nose.

Mimi ran out the corridor, through the main hall and out into the courtyard, where Stylish's chariot of linked Pawns was stationed, the collection unit turning to look at her.

"He's killed Stylish!" she screamed as she ran for them, "He's…!"

Half a plank of wood sailed forward and struck her in the back of the head with enough force to penetrate the bone and skewer her brain. Mimi's cries turned into a strangled rasp as she crashed forward onto her face.

Craft stood in the open doors, his arm outstretched after completing his throw. The living components of the chariot looked at Mimi's corpse before back at Craft, who lowered his arm as their bodies trembled with rage.

Not at the death of the big-eared woman, but the one of their beloved body alternator Stylish. They stood up, the platform they collectively held separating into a square piece for each of them, the eight surrounding the middle straining in different directions with vein covered muscles until the chains binding them together snapped. Now free, they turned towards Craft, brandishing their iron claws.

Craft lifted his head, looking at his nine new foes. The feeling that had come upon killing Stylish remained, holding him like a fine blanket and giving everything around him a calming air. So when the first Pawn came at him, claws poised for a strike, it was with complete calmness that he shot his hand out, smashing his open palm into the Pawn's chest before firing off the cannon. The pulverized remains of the Pawn splattered over its brethren, who all had little time to react before Craft came at them all. The second to die at his hands did so literally, as he swung a punch so hard he felt it fragment its skull, and then the third got its throat torn out as he slashed out with his fingers.

The forth pawn came at Craft from the side, but the doctor ducked beneath its attempted grab, manoeuvring around to stand behind it. Grabbing the back of its head, Craft smashed it face-first into another of its kin, brutally merging their faces together whilst shattering both their masks. The elbow that Craft lashed out with to counter the Pawn coming at him from behind collided with its chin with enough force to snap its neck, before he brought the same arm back around to aim at the seventh Pawn, blowing it away with his cannon. Still holding the head of the limp Pawn, Craft grabbed its wrist and, using it like a perverse marionette, slashed out its limp hand so that the claws sliced through the stomach of the eight Pawn, causing its guts to spill out onto the ground.

Craft finally released the limb Pawn and turned to the last one. He didn't know if Stylish had left the ability to feel fear in the minds of his Pawns, but he had a feeling the lobe for it was still in there, judging by how this Pawn seemed to shake at facing him alone.

Well, he wouldn't let it stew in fear for long, he decided.

He marched towards the Pawn, catching its wrist as it slashed with a claw. A quick squeeze and the wrist broke. The same thing happened to the other hand's wrist when it attempted a second attack, and with both its means of attack ruined, Craft was free to grab both sides of its head and squeeze. It took only a few seconds for blood to leak out from beneath the mask and from the ears and a few seconds longer before one last crack came from the Pawn's head.

Craft held his victim for a few seconds more before dropping it. He observed the corpse before craning his head back and breathing out into the sky.

Well…that had been quite the venture, but a couple dozen dead augmented humans and more significantly a brutalized ex-college scientist told him it had been worth it.

"One down…" he murmured to himself.

"There are more."

"Yes…and I will get to them all."

"No. There are more. Here. Other people are here."

Craft's eyes snapped open, "What? Where?"

"A couple on the outskirts. They aren't moving though. And there's one coming this way."

"Jaegers?"

"I do not think so, but I advise caution."

"…Where is the approaching one now?"

"…In the courtyard. To your left."

Craft turned his head. At first, he saw nothing. But then his eyes picked something out. A shimmering of sorts, in a human outline.

An eternity passed before the outline got the hint that Craft knew they were there. Still, it wasn't until he put his hands up and turned to face the figure that they straightened up, cancelling out their invisibility.

Another old memory resurfaced as he calmly observed the armoured figure, memories of an Imperial Arm that took the form of full body armour with the ability of invisibility and who wielded it.

This wasn't the Jaegers.

This was their opposite.