"As ready as I'll ever be."

Trembling, Moxxie forced himself to take in a deep and staggered breath, tucking the grimoire into his coat.

The plan sounded simple. There was a large pipe mounted on the wall that could guide them through the flooded hallway without either of them needing to swim, and all they would have to do is climb it through the water.

Easier said than done.

He had never been forced into circumstances this dire, ever. One of his worst fears was now staring him down, and he would either have to face it, or die hesitating.

The water made him shiver violently, and he knew that if he didn't somehow drown, or cut himself, or bleed out, the temperature would get to him next. And he didn't want to stick around to see that happen.

Slowly, he lowered himself deeper into the swirling sea, trying to let himself adjust to the water. He had heard enough about the effects of shock to know that jumping right in over his head would probably yield a poor result. If he was going to die, it was going to be after trying everything else first.

"What are you doing?" Octavia asked sarcastically, "Water too cold for you?"

"Very funny," he said, "From what I've heard, going into shock isn't a pleasant experience."

Octavia stared at him with a raised brow, like he had just told her he had seen a unicorn gallop down the deck. But she quickly followed his lead, the two of them moving closer to the edge of the flooding, right where the water would meet the ceiling.

It was now or never.

The lights began to flicker around them, and the ship shook even more, indicating that their already limited time was running out.

"You ready?" Octavia asked.

Hell no. I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"Uhh…" Moxxie stuttered, "I-I guess so."

This is it. I'm going to fucking die here.

Octavia awkwardly patted him on the back, "We're going to be fine, I'm sure."

The tremble in her voice indicated otherwise, but false encouragement was better than nothing. He began a mental countdown to prepare himself, shaking uncontrollably with each passing second.

3

Take deep breaths…

2

Make 'em big, these might be your last.

1!

Gasping loudly and taking in as much air as he could, Moxxie gripped the pipe and pulled himself down into the sea, resurfacing sputtering and gasping just a few seconds later.

"I can't fucking do this," he said, "You go on without me, I'll catch up."

The salt burned his eyes and all of the open cuts on his face, and his chest was tightening, and he couldn't tell if it was a panic attack or the half gallon of water he had inhaled.

"Yes we can," Octavia said, voice still uneasy, "I-It's now or never."

Moxxie rubbed his face with his hands, knowing that her words were right. They hadn't fought all this time just to die. He would either have to pull himself together now, or perish. .

Regaining his bearings, he took in a final deep breath, the sound of approaching waves motivating him to pick up the pace.

Thoughts of home flooded his mind, faint ghosts of a happier time, familiar faces making imprints in his head. Yearning for the comforts and familiarity of home had plagued him for days now, and right now the power was in his hands. If going through that dark path would give them any chance at all of seeing their family and friends again, it was a risk worth taking.

It was settled. He was ready this time.

"Alright, last time," he said, the two of them ready to go in and get this over with, "Let's go."

We're either escaping, or we're going to die trying.

It was almost humorous. A few days ago, he had barely known Octavia, and now here they were, about to make the most daring escape together. He was growing attached to her, and it was the first time he had an actual friend outside of work in a long time. Being forced to work together to stay alive had forced them to get along, which thankfully wasn't very hard. He had been lucky that it wasn't someone who didn't like him, like Loona..

They both took in a final breath, hoping that it would be enough to hold them over, and sank beneath the waves, clinging to the pipe and moving forward as much as their limbs would allow.

It was almost pitch-black underneath the water, and Moxxie already felt his lungs screaming for air. He wanted to turn back and take in just one more breath, wanting nothing more than a sweet gulp of that sweet, life-sustaining air.

But turning back now would kill both of them.

He could faintly make out Octavia's outline in the water behind him, struggling just as much as he was. He clasped a free hand over his mouth, beginning to grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the suffocating blackness that surrounded him on every side.

The feeling of water on his face was beginning to bring back the familiar feelings of panic, becoming disoriented as his head began to spin. Pressure began to build up around his head, a sharp tension headache beginning to take form and add yet another obstacle to his journey.

He began to fear that this hallway wasn't going to end.

Forty-five seconds had passed before the urge to breathe got stronger. He had to be near the end now, didn't he? They had to be close to an escape route.

His thoughts were cut short by a loud crash coming from above, followed by a sudden tightness on his chest as he lost his grip on the pipe, something large and metallic pinning him to the floor.

No.

Why can't I move?

Fuck!

Not like this!

We're so close.

The panic was truly setting in now, and he fought with all his strength to free himself, using up what little air he had left. He only had a little bit of fuel left in him, and he knew that if things didn't change in the next ten seconds, he was going to drown.

More of his efforts to move were met fruitlessly. And the more he squirmed and fought, the more air he used up. It was like the universe was giving him a massive "fuck you," pinning him down and trying to kill him when escape was so close.

His vision began to fade, the end getting closer and closer as he became less lucid.

Octavia trailed Moxxie carefully, hoping that she had decent enough lung capacity to make it through without dying.

She could make out his figure just ahead of her, following as close behind as she could. The cold and exertion was already putting a strain on her lungs, and she wasn't sure just how long she was going to make it.

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, the end always seeming to be just around the corner, only to vanish and reappear ten feet in the opposite direction. She quickly became disoriented, trying to muffle the air escaping through her mouth.

She had no idea how much time it had been when she passed Moxxie, pulling herself ahead to what she hoped was the exit, her lungs ready to burst.

Just as she was about to hit the surface, though, she heard a loud crash.

Turning around, she saw a large part of the wall cave in, landing on Moxxie and pinning him to the ground, barely making out his figure in the darkness. Debris scattered about and filled the water around her, and every second she was idle, she came another second closer to death.

She watched as Moxxie struggled to free himself, the structure too heavy for him to get out of on his own.

Next, came a very tough choice.

Turn around now and recover, and then come back to save Moxxie, even though he very well might die in the time it takes for her to pull herself back down, or she could risk both of their lives to go down there and try to pull him up.

At first, hesitation held her in place, but she quickly came to a decision, his words echoing back in her head.

"I'm not leaving you behind. We're both getting out of here, even if it kills us."

She wasn't about to leave him behind, not after all they had been through.

Hoping that she had it in her to fight for a few more seconds, she ducked down into the furthest depths of the water, hoping that she could find the pipe again to pull herself up with.

I'm coming for you, Moxxie.

We're getting out of here, I promise.

Octavia reached the bottom, one arm on the pipe and the other grabbing Moxxie's hand, the two of them pushing with all of their strength in an attempt to free him from his constraints.

Each attempt failed, though, and water was beginning to force its way into her lungs. They both only had a few seconds left before things went bad, and they were going to have to think fast to get out of this alive.

With that thought in mind, she did something that she wasn't sure she was going to regret doing or not.

Using up what little air and strength she had left, she rammed her side into the wood, breaking a part of the wood free and taking in a massive gulp of seawater in the process, the colors around her beginning to fade.

Moxxie freed himself from his watery prison, and moved over to the pipe and began pulling himself along the path and to the top.

She felt a hand around her arm, and she felt herself being pulled towards the surface, seconds away from blacking out permanently.

Right when she felt like she had reached the end, though, she and Moxxie broke the surface together, climbing onto a dry-sih patch of floor and nearly collapsing, thankful to have made it out.

Shooting a glance at the clock, she saw that it had been just over two and a half minutes down there, far more than she thought she had in her. Survival instincts did a hell of a job with this kind of thing, helping her barely make it out of the water with her life.

"Holy shit…" she coughed, "We did it!"

Moxxie turned around, wiping his face and weakly standing up, "You're right, we did."

Sure, her head hurt and her throat was on fire, and there still wasn't a guarantee that they would survive the rest of the sinking, either. But she was damn proud of herself for pushing through that whole ordeal, even when she thought she was going to die in the process. And on top of that, having saved another life.

She pumped a fist weakly in the air, allowing herself this one victory.

The two of them paused to regain their footing, still shaken from the horrific experience that they had just endured.

"You know," Moxxie started, staring off into space and fidgeting with his shaking hands, "You didn't have to save me back there. You almost fucking died getting back here, I would've been fine."

They both knew that was a damn lie.

"You would've died if I hadn't come back," she said, "And, it wasn't like I was going to just leave you to die back there. Contrary to popular belief, I have a soul."

It had never been an option to abandon Moxxie. She would have gladly risked it all to go back and save him again, a thought she was content to keep to herself. There was no reason for her to be all mushy and feely, especially since they were still in danger's way.

"Well still, thank you."

"Don't get all mushy around me, we've got other things to do."

"As you wish."

They both jumped as hands grabbed at them from behind, latching onto their shoulders. It was a cold grasp that she recognized, and she didn't want to turn around, knowing very well who would be awaiting her.

"Long time no see?" Stella laughed maniacally, "We thought we'd lost you two back there."

Shit.

Now what?

Monte was overcome with a villainous type of joy, one that only pure sadists could achieve. To finally have his prey so close to him was all he had wanted, and now with nothing to lose, he could off them now instead of having to wait for Stolas to find them. He knew that he would get his kill eventually, might as well enjoy killing off the bait too.

The blessed rifle was in his hands and ready to be used, not wanting to waste another second. He didn't care about the plan anymore, nor did he care what happened to anybody else. All he wanted was to see blood fall, and to see a lot of it. If tonight wasn't a bloodbath, then he had done something wrong. If he had his way, there would be enough gore to make even the toughest of demons squeamish, and he was going to make sure that his little friends died as cruelly and as horridly as possible.

And once they were down, it was time to take care of Stella.

After all, if all of the others were dead, what use would she be to him? He didn't have friends, he had assets, and as of right now, Stella was an asset that was nearing the end of its utility. He could collect the bounty even with her dead, all he really needed her for was an extra set of hands to help take out the fighters.

"We have some business to attend to," Monte said, loading the chamber, "And this time, you're not getting away."

Judging from the fear he could see in their eyes, he was doing his job right.

This time, he was getting shit done.

Octavia felt the barrel of a gun being held to her back, shooting a glance over to Moxxie who looked just as panicked as she was.

"I'm done fucking around!" Monte bellowed, finger on the trigger, "Say goodbye, little shits."

There was a sudden blast, blood splattering out from her back and onto the wall in front of her, muscles contracting violently as the pain began to take over, falling to the ground with a thud.

They actually fucking did it.

This is how it actually ends.

Her side took the blunt of the impact, seething in agony as more blood gushed out of the wound. She hadn't been in this much pain in as long as she could remember, and the blessed rifle in his hand served as an eerie reminder of the kind of monster she was dealing with.

"Octavia!" Moxxie shouted, before turning around to face Monte. The little imp spat at the man's face, anger burning in his eyes, "Fuck you!"

That was a decision that he was going to come to regret.

A second gunshot rang out, and she watched Moxxie fall to the ground as well, blood spewing out of his shoulder. He clutched the gash, letting out a muffled groan as Monte and Stella walked away, the book falling out of his pocket.

"You wanna finish them off?" Stella asked.

"Nah. Let 'em suffer, they'll die down here on their own." Monte laughed, bending over and plucking the book out of Moxxie's hands, making a point to kick him in the sides with as much force as he could, "Plus, we've got to save our bullets for the others. Not gonna waste them all right here," he bent down to Moxxie and Octavia's eye level, "No matter how tempting it is."

She caught her mother's eyes one last time before they disappeared, Stella muttering her departing message right before they turned a corner.

"I'll tell your father you said 'hi'," she cackled, "I'm sure you two will be together again real soon."

Octavia weakly stuck up her middle finger, a final act of defiance against her mother.

With that, her attackers disappeared behind a corner, their footsteps fading away as Octavia's blood began to pool on the floor. She could hear water rushing up the stairs below them, knowing that they only had a few minutes before they were overcome yet again by the quickening flood.

Their biggest mistake, however, was shooting Moxxie in a non-vital spot. He had done a great job acting like he was mortally wounded, but once their assailants were out of sight, he began to move again, still in pain, but not enough to knock him out of the running.

"Dammit!" Moxxie shouted, clinging to his arm and clenching his teeth so hard it looked like they were going to shatter, "Damn blessed weapons. Hurts like hell."

Moxxie tilted his ear and listened to the sound of approaching water, and weakly stood up, hunched over like an old man and moving with slow, uneven steps that made him sway back and forth. Black blood dripped down from his shoulder and onto his coat, and the somber lighting highlighted all of his previous injuries. Both of his eyes were black and bruised, and there were scratches and scars and other bruises scattered about his body. The fact that he was still standing upright at all was nothing short of a miracle.

She began to feel lightheaded, bleeding heavily and showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. The pain was far too severe for her to stand up on, only able to mumble weakly and shuffle in short movements on the floor.

"Go on," she said, "You can still make it1'

Moxxie, in his typical way, stood steadfast and refused to leave.

"What did I say about leaving people behind?" he asked, "We're still trying for this, come on."

She tried to stand up, but quickly fell back to the floor, and they both knew she didn't have much time left if somebody didn't intervene.

"My father will know what to do," she said, "If we can find him, we still have a chance."

Stolas was a man of many talents and skills, Octavia having seen firsthand that medicine was one of them. He had always been the one to go to if she had gotten hurt or sick, whether it be something as harmless as a scratch from skating down the driveway, to something more severe like sulfur fever. He had always used special remedies to heal her, at least back when he had the book. She imagined that his skills would carry over without it, though.

"I'm not going to be able to walk," she said, "I don't know what you want to do about-"

She was cut off by another wave of pain coming over her, clawing at her back and causing her to double over on to the ground, fearing that any movement might trigger more discomfort and pain. She almost wondered if dying was going to be a preferable alternative to dealing with it, each wave worse than the last.

"Come on," Moxxie said, reaching out his hand, "If you're okay with it, I can try and carry you out."

"Why would I not be okay with it?" Octavia asked, half-sarcastically, "It's either that or I die."

"Just making sure. Crisis is not a time to abandon physical boundaries, you know."

Although the remark was perplexing, she found it oddly fitting with Moxxie's personality. He had an odd way of speaking that was both overly extravagant and somewhat comforting at the same time.

I guess I appreciate the thought...

Normally, Octavia would throw up at the thought of having to rely on somebody else for help, but she was too dizzy and injured to care. She would have time to regret this later, and plus, it wasn't like she had just been some stereotypical helpless damsel. She had saved Moxxie's ass almost as many times as he had saved hers. They were even, at least for now.

She shuffled forwards and let Moxxie take her hand, before he lifted her up and began to walk. His steps were awkward, and he seemed to be struggling, which was weird considering Octavia wasn't very heavy.

"You going to be alright?" she asked, "It's gonna be a long walk."

"Yeah, I'm fine, at least I think so," he replied, "Just hold on until we find him."

The color was beginning to fade from her vision, so she wasn't sure just how long she'd be able to continue pushing forward. She had certainly had her fair share of injuries before, but this one was beginning to push it in terms of severity and survivability. This was her first injury that she worried could be fatal.

"It's not every day I survive three murder attempts from the same man." Moxxie muttered.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks and grimaced.

"Are you sure?" Octavia said, "You don't look alright."

She could see him trying to hide the growing gash on his shoulder, his face contorting into a strained smile through gritted teeth and stretched eyebrows. He had the same innocent-looking, calm expression as usual, except for his eyes, which were clearly hiding something, probably the unbearable pain he had to be in.

Come to think of it, the fact that both of them had survived hits from blessed weapons with minimal injuries was a miracle in of itself, even if miracles didn't happen in the land of the damned. A hit with a blessed weapon was almost a guaranteed kill if it hit something vital, and having both bullets miss any major organs or muscles had to be evidence of some sort of luck or fortune, in spite of the dire circumstances.

"Yeah, just hurts a lot," Moxxie seethed, "Nothing I haven't...been though before."

She didn't have the energy to rebuttal, instead leaning back and trying to block out the stinging coming from her back. A trail of blood had started behind them, and Octavia was surprised that she was still alive after seeing all of the stains on the floor. She didn't know how much blood she had left to lose at this point.

A crash from behind snapped them both out of it, however, and they turned around to see yet another wall caving in, water spewing forward at alarming speed and rushing directly towards them.

Not this shit again.

We really can't catch a break, can we?

"Shit!" Moxxie shouted, before picking up the pace and bolting as fast as he could.

Octavia kept her eyes glued to the rushing waves making their way down the hall, and then on the blood dripping to the floor, each footstep causing her immense pain. Not that she was going to downplay Moxxie's efforts, of course, but she did wish that the path to survival could be a little less bumpy.

The lights went out, and they were plunged into darkness. She had lost count as to how many times it had happened at this point, already becoming familiar with the uncomfortable blackness.

She spotted a staircase only a few more feet in front of them, just close enough for them to potentially beat the rushing water and get out in time.

"You see that?" Octavia asked, weakly pointing to the stairs.

"Yep," he huffed in return, out of breath, "It's gonna be close, but I think I can do it!"

He moved with astonishing speed, although she already knew he was going to be in a world of pain once it was over. All the movement was only causing more blood to gush out of their wounds, and the last thing she wanted was to get this far, only to be killed off by blood loss or some shit.

"Hurry up!" she shouted, watching the water take out everything in its path, only a few feet behind them now.

Just as quickly as it had poured out the door, the water hit their backs, just as Moxxie threw her up the stairs and then himself.

The world flashed white around her as she landed on her side, shouting out in pain as she bled more and more, laying at the top of the staircase as the flooding continued, the two of them a few steps away from the raging sea.

Everything was happening at a million miles a minute, and it was becoming harder for her to keep a steady grip on what was happening. It had only been a couple hours, but it felt like it had been both two seconds and two years at the same time.

It was by pure chance that they had both gotten out, faced with danger after danger and showing no signs of stopping. They weren't out of harm's way until they were safely off the ship, and Monte and Stella were dead.

Her strength was quickly fading, however, and the last thing she remembered was Moxxie kneeling down next to her and using his coat as a makeshift bandage, blood soaking through it within seconds.

"I'm not feeling too good…" she trailed off, eyes glazing over.

"Hold on a bit longer, please!" Moxxie pleaded, "We're only a couple floors away from the deck. We'll find them, I'm sure."

He paused.

"Please don't die on me."

And then everything went dark.