21st Winter Moon

JoJo peered out from behind a rock as a Mr. Mime. She cupped her hands over her eyes and zoomed in on the building ahead. A desolate facility removed from civilization, something of a dry community devoid of life. Perfect given the desert-like plains surrounding the building for miles. Perfect for a remote prison meant to cut off the vile spawns of Virdis' lands.

"Yep, that's the prison." JoJo stretched out her hands and handed them off to Valentine.

After staring at the hands with a raised brow, Valentine hesitantly lifted them to his eyes, marveling as they actually magnified the far-off setting. "There's some guards stationed everywhere, too. Must be because of that breakout."

Sid and Ragger poked their heads around the rock, with Sid asking, "And we're positive the Dukes broke out?"

"We did hear about a breakout from the prison before we left base, but we didn't think all the Dukes would be corralled here." Valentine glared. "It's weird, actually. Amos was in the Wick Kingdom when he was apprehended, but to think Marsaili, Rogier, and Ainsley were also transferred here makes no sense. Why would they be brought here of all places? And why was Althalos and the other two taken here from the Algus Kingdom, especially when the Algus Kingdom doesn't have any affiliation with the Wick Kingdom?"

JoJo retracted her hands and shrugged. "It's like I always say: you can't trust anyone, not even authority. That's why being dishonest and scummy is the way to go. Helps you stay ahead of the competition."

"I'm afraid this is more than just distrusting royals," Valentine said. "If the Dukes really were brought here, and if they really were the group that broke out during that prison break months back, something must've prompted it. And if my hunch is right—"

"Your supposed theory that this is Last Autumn's doing?" Ragger guessed.

Valentine nodded. "We need Althalos to tell us everything he can about the Wraith and its trade routes. Anything we can squeeze out of him. We know it's a poison, but that still leaves us with questions. Until Shade finds conclusive evidence to how the poison works, we need to go with our next best plan: wringing it out of the providers."

JoJo morphed into a Furfrou and crossed her forelegs over the rock. "Chatter about all you want. I'm here for the elementium stashed away in this place. I'm getting my money's worth with this place."

Sid scooted back behind the rock. "Okay, so what's our plan for getting in? A big group like us would stand out."

"I have an idea," Valentine mumbled. "Sid, you and JoJo should check the place out and find the holding cells. You two have the best chance of slipping away quickly. Ragger and I will search the prison records—"

Ragger raised his hand. "Hold up, I'm here for personal reasons. You can flitter away looking through boring documents all you want, but I want to question the assholes in this place and see if they have anything I want."

Valentine sighed. "Ragger, I'm sure this is just as important to you, but—"

"No buts!" Ragger punched into his hand, cracking his knuckles. "Even if I have to tear this entire place down brick by brick, I won't rest until someone tells me something about New Chariot's slave trade routes."

JoJo shrugged. "Eh, you're bound to find someone. Most crooks probably would turn themselves in instead of being forced into New Chariot's death sports."

Valentine pinched over his nose and sighed. "Alright. Ragger, you're staying with me until we reach the prison records. After that, you're free to explore and find out all you can from the prisoners. Just promise me you won't make a scene or cause trouble. We need to be in and out as quickly as we can."

Ragger saluted. "Way ahead of you."

Valentine nodded, then signaled to the girls. Sid placed Rusty inside her bag, the dug her claws into the ground. She deformed the ground into a muddy substance before diving on through. JoJo jumped, morphed into a Magikarp, and followed after the mole.

Valentine peeked around the corner again, checking for guards, then waved Ragger along. They sprinted towards the prison.

"So, how are we getting in?" Ragger asked.

Valentine smirked. "I have my ways."

"Well, well, well," Shale murmured, peeking out from the cover of the sandy terrain as she retracted her telescope. She sat up and shook the sand out of her fur. "Looks like I was right."

Casimir picked himself up and brushed the sand from his clothes. He glared at the distant building. "The remote Wick Kingdom dungeon."

"Where the worst of the worst go to be cut off from society for some free labor," Shale continued. "I remember that little shapeshifter telling me all about this place and its elementium deposits. Who would've thought this is where we needed to go for the second half of that bet?"

"We still don't know why the Dukes broke out of prison," Casimir muttered.

Shale smirked. "Do you really need a reason not to?"

"Not if you don't want all of Virdis breathing down your back. The Ghost clearly wants these guys captured if it meant an automatic win for us."

Shale collapsed her telescope and stashed it away. "Less I know, the better. And if we still can't bag the Dukes, at least we have some Foresters to cash in."

Casimir glared. "Remember, Mad World and Mudslide are not to be taken lightly. They're the best of the best. Don't underestimate them."

Shale waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, old timer."

"I'm in my twenties!"

Shale stood up and stretched her arms. "I'm not passing up on an easy gig, so try and keep up with me. Hey, how about a race?"

"Shale, take this serious—"

"Onetwothree, go!"

Casimir covered his face against the sand as Shale took off toward the prison. He rolled his eyes, then sprinted after her.

Perhaps it wasn't right to call her out for being impatient. It wasn't any different to how he was feeling. Though with the mission at the forefront of his mind, capturing the two Nature Spirits were top priority. Ragger wasn't, however, and that was the objective on Casimir's mind.

You're playing a dangerous game, kid. You don't want to get involved with the New Chariot Empire, no matter what. If that means I have to break your legs to keep you from living my life, so be it.

"Are we almost there?" JoJo whined, swimming through the tunnel of mud behind Sid.

Sid rolled her eyes and continued digging. "Patience. I need to make sure we're under the mine first. I can't have us popping out from under some guards during their lunch break."

"Look, I wouldn't care if you decided to open a giant sinkhole in this place. I just want my elementium." JoJo squinted off to the side. "That is if Pandora has my money."

"You two are a pair that should never be in the same room," Sid grumbled. She swiped away another layer of mud when she felt something strike against her claws. "Hmm?" She dug through, then pulled out a lumpy shape covered in mud. "Too dark to see."

"I got it." Sid flinched as a blue light shined through the tunnel, curtesy of JoJo's Chinchou transformation.

After adjusting her eyes, Sid peered down at the shape and wiped the mud away. She gasped as the material reflected the light back off like a mirror. It was a metallic ore that sparkled in the light. Turning it over a couple times, it was mostly covered in rock that chipped away to reveal the metal underneath.

"Is this…" Sid mumbled.

JoJo swiped it from her claws and skimmed it over with an extended, thorough eye. She gave it a lick, then nodded firmly. "Oh yeah! We struck gold! Or elementium, to be more precise."

That was all the confirmation Sid needed before tearing a hole open in their tunnel's roof. Mud collapsed down on them, but they emerged from the hole unharmed. They gazed around to find themselves in a dark space for a moment until JoJo once more illuminated their surroundings.

The fabled elementium mine with unlit lanterns hanging from the walls and minecarts sitting by with pickaxes and the like resting against them. Faint glimmers reflected off the mostly rock walls. Tiny traces of elementium peeked through, whether tiny fragments or parts of a large vein, it could go either way.

Sid pulled herself out of the hole, pulled Rusty out of her bag, and paced around the mine. "Incredible," she awed. "Pandora would have a heart attack if she saw this. So much elementium."

"Yep!" JoJo flopped onto the surface and waddled straight for the closest minecart. "The blokes in charge would obviously want to keep this whole operation hush-hush, otherwise they would have a sudden influx of criminals finding their where here, and not just for a shining pair of cuffs to slap on their wrists."

Sid glared. "But what would they need the elementium for?"

"To get rich, obviously." JoJo rolled her eyes and smirked. "Kind of what I'm doing, in fact." She jumped into the minecart and rummaged through the haul left behind.

"Perhaps, but something about this seems off. The royal family has to know about this, right? Would they seriously approve of using prisoners for manual labor like this? And if they have a cluster of elementium down here, why keep it secret? I'm sure it would bolster trade exports or something, right?"

JoJo popped her head out of the cart and dumped chunks of rock into her bag. "Don't ask me. I don't know what those fancy folk do with this stuff. They might just bathe in it or, I don't know, think they look pretty. They're rich! They can do whatever the hell they want with it."

Sid walked up to the walls and pressed her hand against it. "Seems so strange." She looked down at Rusty as she readjusted her arm around him. "I'm not paranoid, Rusty. I just can't shake off the fact Last Autumn's behind all of this. If they have connections here—"

She paused, then held Rusty up, staring at the bucket wide-eyed.

"Wait, you're saying that…" She narrowed her eyes and looked off to the side. "Shade did say the Wraith had…"

"What was that?" JoJo called out, busying herself with her digging.

"Erm, nothing. Just thinking out loud." Sid looked to the walls again. "Hey JoJo, how much do you know about the Tetrarch family?"

"Eh, the usual." JoJo grinned and picked up a larger chunk of elementium. "I hear the usual niceties about their eldest son. Apparently Melissa got to see him when I first met her. Lucky her, I had fake ancient sundials to sell him. The prince goes around occasionally to greet his subjects. Haven't really cared enough to look into them thoroughly. Melissa certainly seems to like the eldest son."

Sid rolled her eyes. "No kidding."

"They seem like model citizens if you ask around. Of course, that's only if you talk to civilians. Crooks tend to have a lower opinion of the royal family. Seems like standard fair, though…" She paused, staring in the minecart.

"Though what?" Sid asked.

JoJo shrugged. "I don't know. I've been around just about everywhere in my time here. You hear a lot of rumors about the royal families from all over. The Subterra King's a xenophobic tyrant, the Arcania King's got a few screws loose, and all that stuff. I've heard some nasty rumors about the Tetrarchs. Like, worse than the normal stuff."

Sid glared. "Odd. Melissa speaks highly of their family."

"But is Melissa really the best judge of character? All the ten royal families have their dirty little secrets, hers included."

"Hmm…" Sid sat down and leaned back against the wall. Are the Tetrarchs as good as Melissa claims them to be. Or maybe, maybe there's something else going on. Why else would foreign prisoners be transferred here—

"AAAHHH!"

Sid nearly jumped out of her skin and watched JoJo fall out of the minecart, tipping it over with her. The rock and elementium spilled out with her. JoJo scrambled away from the cart. Her body trembled, shifting uncontrollably. Sid could've sworn she saw traces of pink goo brimming through the transformation.

"JoJo!" Sid ran over and helped her to her feet. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

JoJo pointed at the cart and yelled, "What the hell is that doing in there?!"

Sid turned to the cart, then paled at what lay on top of the mixed rocks and metal. "What…What am I looking at?"

As hard as it was to believe, Sid and JoJo couldn't take their eyes off the grim sight before them. Laying on the rock pile, barely tethered together by pieces of whatever that they didn't want to even think of describing, was the bones of a hand.

"Ugh…what the—"

"I don't…feel so good…"

The guards stationed at the front of the prison closed their hands over their mouths and balanced against the walls. The room tilted around them, a sudden wave of vertigo stripping them of equilibrium.

"I…told you that cheese you put in the sandwiches was rotten," one guard groaned.

"I'm telling you, that wasn't mold—oh geez…" the other groaned as well. "I think I'm going to throw up."

Delirious and disoriented, they didn't even notice Valentine and Ragger walking through. The Spinda's spiral eyes glowed a colorful array. He held Ragger's hand and guided him into the prison. Ragger had to close his eyes to be spared the mind-numbing effects of Valentine's debilitating technique.

"When they said your nickname was Mad World, I assumed it was because you were raised in an asylum," Ragger huffed.

Valentine smiled off to the side. "Heh, yeah. That'd be something…" He cleared his throat, then checked over his shoulder. "Just a little farther, and we'll be good to go."

They kept to the walls as they navigated the prison halls. Valentine stopped at a corner and checked the hall signs over his head. One clearly marked the direction of the prison records. The other that continued straight ahead pointed toward the general direction of the cells.

After another thorough look around the hall, Valentine released Ragger's hand and canceled his technique. "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Ragger blinked his eyes open, then glared up ahead. "So, that's where the cells are. Up ahead?"

"Seems so." Valentine sighed, then touched Ragger's shoulder. "Listen, I'll let you do your own recon or whatever. Try to find anything you can on these slave traders you've been harping on about. I can't guarantee anything concrete like JoJo, but—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture," Ragger interrupted, brushing off Valentine's hand. "You don't have to coddle me. I won't get into any…unnecessary trouble."

Valentine rolled his eyes. "Riiiiight. If anything happens, call out for me and I'll be right there. I need to check the prison records. If you're going to the cells, mind doing a sweep of where the Dukes were being held?"

Ragger smirked. "Eh, whatever." He cracked his knuckles and marched ahead. "Don't wait up for me."

"Don't draw too much attention to yourself either," Valentine warned before Ragger was out of earshot. He sighed, shook his head, then started toward the prison records.

Valentine kept his back to the wall, shimmying along while keeping his eyes peeled for guards. It seemed strangely quiet unlike the number of guards stationed out front. A prison operating a secret black market elementium expedition would surely have more guards swarming the place. Even if it wasn't, some of the worst criminals of the Wick Kingdom eventually wounded up here. It called for more guards to be stationed around every corner, right?

Then again, what were the circumstances to the prison break months back? Given that the Foresters only knew a prison break happened didn't speak well of the thorough search they did. Valentine was only now piecing together the Dukes may have broken out during that prison break. It was possible, but he didn't consider ALL of them were brought to the same prison.

One could somewhat explain Marsaili, Ainsley, and Rogier ending up here since the Wick Kingdom was allies with Verde and Echo Bell. How didn't Althalos and his team, in the Algus Kingdom, end up here? Why would the royal family of the Algus Kingdom send random criminals to a kingdom they had no alliance with?

Unless someone within the kingdom was working for Last Autumn. They wanted every last Duke cut from the picture to spare the secrets of the Wraith.

All that remained was figuring out what happened, then finding anything on where they escaped to.

Valentine stopped at a door coming up ahead. He grinned at the sign labeled 'Record Office'. He checked the hall once more, then pulled out a lockpick kit.

He wrangled with the door for a moment until a click sounded from the internal mechanisms. He creaked the door open, slid through the gap, and quietly shut it behind him.

He breathed a sigh of relief, then rubbed his hands together. "Alright, let's see what we've got here."

He started for the filing cabinets and ran through the files dated around the time the prison break took place. He pulled out a week's worth of files, then threw them down on a nearby table beside a lamp. He grabbed a matchbook off the table, struck a match across the side, and lit the lamp. A soft orange glow filled the room.

Valentine sat down and started flipping through files. Most, unsurprisingly, reported little incidences between the prisoners and the like. Typical conflict found in prisons. What did anyone expect with hardened convicts trying to live in the same murky space together?

Some files detailed events inside the prison. Others detailed events scheduled outside, like inspections or visits from third parties. Most importantly, there were the files on individual prisoners. Valentine had managed to find all the individual files on the Dukes and lined them up in front of him. Rough sketches of their faces besides some identification markers, names, and statuses. He wanted to look through those a bit later.

"So, what exactly started the prison break?" Valentine asked himself.

The building seemed relatively intact, so it's not like someone blew a hole in the wall. Then again, who would want that sitting around prisoners for two months unrepaired? So perhaps a covert operation taking advantage of the routine prison schedule? A possibility. Any minute flaw could be exploited under the right circumstances.

Then again, according to Jason, Althalos was fearful about being sent away. He knew getting captured meant the end of the Dukes. Instead of a complex prison break, perhaps it was an impromptu escape? A last ditch effort? A frantic race against the clock?

The Dukes had enough motivation to escape under such parameters, but why go with a risky strategy like that even with the threat of danger?

Unless the danger was already there the same day the broke out.

Valentine leaned back in his chair, gently massaging his chin. "What did Jason say Althalos was worried about?"

"Before we dropped Althalos off to the Algus knights, he said something. He sounded like his life was at stake if he lost during the invasion. He was desperate about getting his team free."

"Like it was an inevitability. So, why would they send them to this prison?"

Valentine rubbed his chin, then picked up the files pertaining to third parties. He combed through a number of records until he found one dated a week before the prison break. The rest spoke of prison inspections, but this one caught his attention.

A party of three scheduled to arrive at the prison. Only a week after Althalos was admitted into the prison. Almost like it was a planned message. Once they got Althalos, the warden called for this third party.

Valentine flipped through the records, then narrowed his eyes at a repeated name. "Dr. Cain Underhill. Says here he was called upon to…pacify a troublesome group of prisoners. The Dukes of Buzzard. Pacify? Well, if that doesn't sound ominous…" He leaned back in the chair. "Was this the guy sent to take care of the Dukes? I wonder what sparked the prison break. Is this guy that dangerous?"

Valentine took a passing glance at the prisoner records. His eyes stopped on one that, only now did he realize, had red marks scribbled over certain parts. Revisions to a prisoner record, perhaps?

He picked it up and skimmed over the revisions, mumbling them under his breath. His eyes widened the further they went down, from current status to a guard report included inside the folder.

Status: Deceased.

Ragger tried his best to adhere to Valentine's advice. Stay out of trouble and don't alert the guards. Easy enough message to comprehend. Of course, the rule only applied for so long until the art of stealth, one of Ragger's weaker skills, became obsoletely in the face of detection.

He just happened to round a corner where a pair of guards were walking by where they locked eyes. Both sides were stunned in the momentary standoff of confusion, broken only by whoever reacted first. Ragger considered running at that moment, but then considered the ramifications of running.

See, if he ran, that left two conscious guards to alert the entire facility that there was an intruder roaming the prison. Wouldn't that go against his orders of don't get caught? Yes, he did indeed get caught, but it was in the same vein as breaking the law. If one were to break a law and no one was around to witness it, then did it actually happen?

In other words, the solution was simple.

Ragger wasted no time bashing the guards' heads into the walls before they could draw a weapon or fire a move. The Slowking posed no challenge, though the Rhydon took quite a few beatings before he went off to slumberland. It didn't help that the area looked a bit roughed up from Ragger's roughhousing, either.

Ragger sat down on the unconscious rhino and took a breather. "There. No conscious guards, no one to alert. Once again, violence solves everything." He patted himself on the back for good measure.

Now came the next conundrum. In light of his brief spar with the guards, he seemed to have overlooked a minor issue that completely turned him around.

He was completely lost.

Ragger pressed his clasped hands behind his chin and stared ahead pensively. "Well, this is troubling. How am I supposed to shake down the no-good scum of this cesspool if I have no scum to shake down?" He looked down at his new seat. "I don't suppose you're conscious enough to point me in the right direction."

Nothing but a pained gurgle.

"Right. Should've guessed." Ragger leaned back on his hands and sighed. "Well, this is a bust. I could just wander the halls until I find the cells, but that would mean running into more guards. If they're anything like these chumps, it'll be super boring, too."

Still, it was a worth a shot. It was either this, or JoJo's potential lead at the black market as she promised the other day. One seemed more likely than the other, but Ragger was also impatient. Waiting around for his answers was like asking him to hold off on liquor for an honor. It was blasphemous and a waste of his time.

Perhaps he could've been more straight with Valentine and Sid regarding the urgency of his personal mission. Urgency didn't seem like the right word given how long it has been, but it felt urgent to him. The more horrible things he learned about New Chariot and what they did with slaves, the more desperate he got.

All he wanted was to find her. He promised his parents he would protect his sister at all costs. And look where that landed him.

Ragger sighed, cupping his face into his hands. "Freya…" He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. "No. No, I'm not going to blubber like a moron out here. I'm not shedding any effing tears for anything, not until I can save you. Damn, I'm too sober to be feeling like this."

He reached into his bag and pulled out the gin. He popped the cork off, but stared into the bottle for a moment. The strong aroma assaulted his nostrils as he took heavy breaths. Just a little something to make the mundane, sad world disappear for a little while longer. Anything to keep his mind straight on the goal.

He sighed, then guzzled down half the bottle. Pretty soon, he could stop feeling like shit and get back on track. There were asses to kick and information to strangle out.

Nothing will get in his way.

"Hey, you!"

Ragger pulled the bottle away, then glared over his shoulder. A Drapion in guard's uniform scuttled out from the hall and pointed his spear at him. Ragger could see the poison dripping from his mouth.

"Don't. Move," Drapion warned, inching closer to the dragon.

Ragger smirked, then stood up on his unconscious perch. He wiped the alcohol residue from his maw, then pointed back with the hand clutching his bottle. "Who are you to tell me how to rule, bastard? You want some of this, too? Bring it! I'll kick all your asses, or…do you even have an ass? I don't know how Drapion physiology works. How do you shit?"

Drapion's face flared red with anger. "This is your last warning. Now, put your hands up where I can see them and—"

Ragger blinked. In that instant, the entire left side of Drapion's face caved in. A shock blasted across his face with astounding force, enough to throw him a couple meters off the ground and into the wall. His spear went flying from his pincers and clattered across the floor.

Ragger rubbed his eyes, wondering if he actually saw that, then glanced at his bottle. "Is there actually a reason for me to stop drinking now?"

"Perhaps it'll do you some good."

Ragger's head whipped forward. A tiny gasp escaped his maw as the culprit stepped over his unconscious target. That surprise turned to anger as Ragger growled at the approaching Hitmonchan, whose fists were tucked neatly behind his back. Casimir returned the exchange with his stoic glare.

"Alcohol poisoning would be a greater and blissful alternative compared to your suicidal objective."

Sid turned away from JoJo, who was currently spilling her guts out on the floor, made much worse by her instinctive transformation into a Swalot. Sid tried her best to keep her eyes off the severed body part, taking comfort in a tight embrace with her prized bucket.

JoJo finally emptied her stomach and pulled her head from the minecart. "Okay…I've seen a lot of shit, but I've never seen a rotting corpse," the shapeshifter groaned.

"It's not a corpse," Sid assured, though with a grimace. "Although, I hope we don't find the rest of it."

"Why was that even in here?" JoJo groaned. "Ugh, that fact it still has flesh on it just makes it worse."

"If Zephora were here, she'd probably tell us how long that's been there." Sid pointed Rusty at the bones. "Yes Rusty, I am a chicken! Now shut up and give it to me straight! How bad is it?"

The bucket's handle, which was propped up, fell forward onto the face.

"Ugh, that bad?"

JoJo turned and gave Sid a look. "Seriously? You're talking to a bucket?"

Sid pouted. "Rusty is my pal. Practically my brother."

"It's a bucket!"

Sid turned away and petted the rim. "Don't listen to her, Rusty. She's just crabby from losing her breakfast."

JoJo rolled her eyes, then took a deep breath. She transformed into a Mightyena, then forced herself to look at the bony hand. She bent down and peered at the tarnished flesh, daring a sniff. Her nostrils closed up as a pungent smell assaulted her nasal cavity. "Ugh!" She pulled away and pressed her paws over her muzzle. "That's rank!"

"It is rotting flesh," Sid grumbled.

"No, that is definitely not rotting flesh. I know that freakin' smell anywhere. Stupid Skuntank smell."

Sid turned with a questioning look. "Wait, Skuntank?"

"Y-Yeah. Had a customer once who was one. He wasn't too thrilled when he found out the jewels I was selling were…well, fake. Caught me before I left and sprayed me real good. Disgusting."

Sid narrowed her eyes. "So, whoever this hand belonged to was attacked by a Skuntank?"

"That's not the only thing I smelled. There was a lot of other stuff mixed in with the smell. The kind of crap you'd smell from someone brewing potions."

Sid glared at the ground. "Shade once told me Poison-Types were masters of alchemy in their own right. They can use potions to give their poison various new effects. Is it possible—"

"That this sorry chump was melted alive in the worst smell possible? Yep," JoJo groaned, covering her muzzle again. "Yep, feeling sick again…"

"Was it…" Sid gulped, unsure if she should ask. "Was it one of the Dukes?"

"How should I know? I only met three of them for so long, and as a Pelipper. I wouldn't have a scent memorized. Even if I did…ugh, there's no way I'm detecting anything from that rancid aroma."

Sid looked around at the mine, trying to paint a mental picture of what went down. Now that she was getting a better look at the walls, she noticed the traces of dried rock that looked like it deformed at some point. Droplets of rock trickling down the walls like condensation on glass. She didn't think much of it at first, passing it off as erosion. But, if her theory was correct…

"JoJo, how much do you know about the Dukes?"

She shrugged. "It was a strict business relationship. Didn't have time to get friendly with my bosses."

"I wonder what happened that escalated into a fight down here." Sid went up to the walls and grazed her claws across its deformed surface.

JoJo marched back to the elementium pile and started shoveling as much as she could fit into her bag. "I can't tell if anyone else was hit by our theoretical corrosive fog. They could've cleaned out the corpses or melted flesh and just missed the hand there. Then again, that's assuming they're all dead."

Sid frowned. "Jason's not going to be happy if that ends up being the case." She bared her teeth. "Don't tell me we're too late to find them. Ugh, dammit!" She punched the wall as hard as she could. Cracks sprawled out from the impact.

JoJo flinched. "Yeesh, remind me not to arm-wrestle you."

Sid, however, looked at the wall in confusion. "That…wasn't from my punch. The wall's weak."

"Weak?"

Sid glared, then set Rusty aside. "Metal Claw!" She hardened her claws, then drove them through the wall. With a twist of her wrist, she pulled her claws from the wall, tearing out a large hole that collapsed on top of her.

"Sidney!" JoJo gasped.

Fortunately, it was mostly dust that fell on top of her. Sid poked her head out and shook off the light gray powder. "I'm fine!" She looked ahead, then gasped at the gaping tunnel staring back at her. It was pitch black, but it looked deep. "JoJo, look!"

JoJo ran over, then cocked her head in confusion. "Huh. Was this here before or after they set up the mine here?"

"If this was behind the wall that was melted…" Sid glared, then picked up Rusty. "We're investigating. Come on!" She marched through.

JoJo pouted. "Going into a hidden tunnel that may or may not have been condemned? Fun."

"You'll live! Come on!"

JoJo rolled her eyes, went back to collect her elementium sack, then ran after the Drilbur. "Pandora better be appreciative of the nonsense I put up with for a customer."

Valentine shoved the files back into their rightful places, quietly shutting the drawers. He stepped back, staring at them vacantly. He went through every detail of the report regarding the deceased member of the Dukes. To say what he read greatly deserved him would've been the understatement of his life. Not just the means of execution, but the statement made in its example could make a man vomit just by the disgraceful, evil he was forced to read through. Even the other files didn't sport the best of news, some giving descriptions of last known sightings, along with other horrendous details that could scar a man to tears—

"Can we save the melodrama for later?" Valentine groaned. "I don't want to be reminded anymore than I need to."

…Fine.

Valentine sighed, then slumped back against the wall. He massaged his temples, quailing under the turmoil of his rattled brain. The deep dive into the records dissected more than he wanted to know, and then some. A nightmare in the making, one he wished he weren't experiencing.

"Last Autumn really wants them gone. Shit," Valentine groaned beneath his breath. "I don't even know how I'm going to find them now. They could be anywhere across Virdis, maybe even jumped aboard a ship. Assuming the rest of them aren't dead already…"

One thing became alarmingly clear, however. Something fishy was going on within the Wick Kingdom. To even authorize these prison transfers and have secret connections in the Algus Kingdom, the Tetrarch family housed more secrets than Valentine wanted to know. It was beyond simple dealings with a criminal organization, though.

How much of the Tetrarch family is involved in all of this?

Valentine straightened up and adjusted his uniform. "Jason never wanted us getting involved with the political side of Virdis' kingdoms. Sorry boss, but it looks like the Foresters are taking routes beyond thieving. If we want to stop Last Autumn, we need to figure out who their allies are. Question is, how do we get close to the Wick Kingdom?"

With these thoughts in mind, Valentine walked to the door and prepared to let himself out. Perhaps Sid and JoJo had better luck uncovering the prison's secrets. Ragger? He had less faith in—

Valentine's ears erected to a crackling boom on the other side of the door. He instinctively jumped to the side as the door blew off its hinges in a fiery scattering of tinder. A flaming ball drove through the center of the door and smashed into the filing cabinets, warping the outside with the brief contact of heat.

Valentine stumbled back, staring at the burning wood on the ground in shock, then turned toward his attacker. Not a guard as he expected, but a young Cinderace waltzing in with her hands buried inside her pockets. Mismatched, starburst-filled eyes blinked back at Valentine's spiral eyes.

"Mad World Valentine, I presume?" she greeted.

Valentine's shock fell into an even glare. "Who's asking?"

A delightful smile shined on Shale's face. "Just a girl looking for something to pass the time. I heard you're tough, so don't make this too boring for me."

Ragger remained fixed in place, fists raised and on guard, as Casimir paced around the spacious, octagon-shaped hall. Their eyes remained trained on each other. Not a punch thrown, yet a war of attrition battled out inside their minds, more so Ragger's. With their earlier confrontation still burned into his mind, he was playing out every scenario for victory he could scrounge together. Most didn't churn out the best results.

Casimir stopped, then faced Ragger. The stoicism in his glare remained fixed in his expression. The same cold eyes Ragger remembered from their first meeting. They were clearly hardened from battle. No, battle wasn't the right word. Casimir was a Hitmonchan haunted by tales of survival, and he was the sole character of countless tales. An eerie sight Ragger was unaccustomed to seeing in eyes, save for one exception. Two if you counted Jason.

"…You shouldn't be here," Casimir said.

Ragger smirked. "Yeah, well, I find that telling someone not to do something leads to the worst outcome. It's that little bit of curiosity that plagues the mind until they can't take it anymore. And besides…" He returned Casimir's glare with one of his own. "I've come too far to stop now."

"You do not want to get involved with the New Chariot Empire. It's a lost cause. How can you guarantee the one you're looking for hasn't already accepted their new life? That's how most cope in their situation. Better than pleading to some false hope that things will get better. The best you can do is either accept that fate or fight for it."

Ragger scoffed. "Look who's talking. I don't know what your deal is, but you clearly have a history with New Chariot. And you obviously fought your way out."

"You have no idea what I went through to earn my freedom. If I had to wager a guess, your person of interest is female. She's probably living under better conditions than anything I dealt with. If you got caught up in the same shit I went through, you'd go mad from the grief."

"I don't care!" Ragger growled. "I want my sister back, no matter what! I lost enough of my family, but she's the only one I can still save! So, get off your pretentious throne of self-righteousness and just tell me how I can save her."

Casimir sighed. "It's better if you just forget about her. She probably already forgot about you."

"Tch, that's a laugh. Sorry, but I don't play by the emotion game. Not sure if you've noticed or not, but I'm pretty stubborn. I already plan to tear down New Chariot with my bare fists. Maybe even punch the emperor in the face for the hell of it! Why not, right?!"

Casimir bared his teeth. "I'm warning you. There are warriors like me there. If called upon, they'll do virtually anything for their freedom. Trust me. Thieves, scoundrels, and murderers are one thing, but you haven't seen the face of death until you've fought a man on the brink of desperation. Empathy is but an ideal. Survival is the ultimate justice."

Ragger smirked. "You're not pushing me off this path, bastard. You better have a better argument up your sleeve than just a speech."

Casimir's patience wore thin. His expression twisted with irritation, fists tightened and vibrated. "A stubborn fool, you are. Very well." He parted his legs and took on a stance. He reared his fist back as it started vibrating in a controlled manner. "I'll capture you myself and make sure you never see the light of day ever again. You're better off here than in New Chariot."

Ragger laughed and raised his guard. "I've already seen your little tricks. Your stupid fast punch doesn't scare me anymore."

Casimir's eyes narrowed evenly. "Tell me something, boy. Are you familiar with the Pokémon who call themselves wizards? They are specialists at move combinations, to the point where their techniques define what it means to have an enhanced move. I am not arrogant enough to call myself one such specialist, but—"

He whipped his fist forward. Ragger's eyes widened as a red blur fired from the Hitmonchan's fist. Only the vague shape of a fist could be made out. A red streak of compressed air came whizzing in his direction, pushing against the atmosphere itself into a conical shape.

Ragger felt the attack graze his cheek and smash into the wall behind him. The compressed air pounded into the stone, leaving a fist-shaped mark in its place. He hesitantly lifted his claws and touched the stinging mark on his face. No blood, but it was sore.

Casimir raised his vibrating fist as air circulated around it. "I am arrogant enough to say I have the makings of one."