Knock, knock, knock!

…

Knock, knock, knock!

…

"Come on now, I don't have all day!"

The cold, once-lively streets of the Streets of Music had been abandoned for a few weeks now. Ever since the Pianist, a horrible monstrosity that seemingly appeared out of thin air had struck, there weren't many people to actually live there in the first place, and those who survived were too fearful of any sort of return; while the Black Silence, a legendary Fixer whose identity was quite secretive, had slaughtered the humanoid monster with extreme prejudice, the Pianist had been born after a massive Wing, the Lobotomy Corporation, had fallen. With the collapse of such societal behemoths often came disasters and monsters like the Pianist, likely things that were kept secret from the public while being the source of the miraculous and innovative technologies that powered the Wings of the City, and it was not uncommon to have quick, successive disasters like this strike the same place for a while after the Wing's fall, thus it was wiser to find somewhere else to inhabit at the moment. Even those who wished to return would've been repulsed by the three-hundred thousand rotting corpses the Pianist left in its wake, waiting for Sweepers and other night creatures to scavenge the corpses.

Not that such a little thing would ever perturb the Purple Tear herself.

"Honestly, if you're going to be acting this difficult, I'll have to cut down the door!" She threatened once more, knocking on the door, though still receiving no response. Iori was a Color herself, the Purple Tear being her insignia among other Fixers and Colors. She was among the most powerful in the City, and although she had fancied calling herself the strongest a couple of times, she begrudgingly conceded that she simply wasn't. She was, however, the longest surviving Color, maybe even Fixer; usually they survived for twenty-five, maybe thirty years at best and continuing for a few more years after their prime but she had survived for quite the while, perhaps thanks to her own abilities that made her quite durable, NOT that she was old, thank you very much! She was simply…of a greater age than most. "Don't think I'm above such a brutish method!" Just one glance at the acts she committed during her Fixer/Color career would've been enough to convey that message.

There was a muffled noise behind the door, something resembling a broken, twisted imitation of what was once someone's voice.

"Look, I don't give a rat's vomited dinner who the hell you are or what you want. Go find the nearest screw and use it on yourself… leave me alone…" An annoyed voice answered back finally, sounding as if they just awakened from a long night of binge drinking, like its owner was on the brink of vomiting. "Is it something really so important that you would just come out of nowhere, unannounced like this? Honestly, if you're here to just loot or rob me, just- just come in-Hurk!" Oh, great. He really was on the brink of vomiting, it seemed. "The door isn't locked, a-anyway…"

"The door isn't locked?" The tall, purple-eyed woman frowned for an instant, turning the golden doorknob to the humble apartment and gritting her teeth as it clicked, turning in her hand and opening the door. Well, those were a few seconds she was never going to get back…or was she, considering what her powers were? Eheh… "Keh, leaving your door so vulnerable and unlocked in the Backstreets, of all places? I'd have thought you of all people would've- oh my goodness!"

Her smug, somewhat mocking entry was cut short as the smell of the apartment she just entered assaulted her nose before its image did, making her almost take a step back had it not been for her well-trained nerves making her steady her figure, the Purple Tear's long, magenta-ish hair slapping her scalp as her inertia suddenly halted. The entire room- nay, the entire apartment smelled like rotten blood, food, cheap alcohol, and vomit. It felt like there had been a massacre in this place before someone tried cleaning the blood stains with alcohol, the mixture making said person vomit their lunch and leaving any food in the apartment to be eaten by mold, with the added wonderfulness of smelling like that scenario tenfold.

"...You really are determined to just waste away without anyone to make you live like a functional human being, aren't you?" Iori commented all too lightly, the disappointment in her tone of voice, alongside her not-so-slight disgust, clear for the sole resident of the place to hear, "One month is all it took for you to regress to such a sorry state, eh kid?"

"...Shut up." In all fairness, it wasn't like the apartment itself looked any better than it smelled. All that which sustained said sole inhabitant seemed to be various takeaway orders from a store which had 'HamHamPangPang' written on its boxes. There were a few lime-ish splotches on the ground and carpets that Iori definitely did not need to look at for too long, and a few cans of alcohol rolled to her shoes as tried walking in, closing the door behind her. Goodness, he really fall down hard.

It was almost pitiable if it hadn't been so pathetic, and if she didn't know what sort of rampage he went through for the room to smell of blood and gore even a month after it had happened. She had to wonder how much money he had left at this point; she knew he'd been saving a lot of it across his now-dead career, but spending it so carelessly on food, drugs and alcohol couldn't be economically healthy. She wondered if he even walked around the apartment, but then again, considering she hadn't, mercifully, smelled any urea, then he at least got up for nature's calls.

Iori wrinkled her nose in distaste as gold eyes stared at the still figure laying across the completely messy couch that seemed better fit for a pig, apparently too uncaring to think of the much nicer-looking double-bed that laid in a room next to the salon. But instead of that, it was a pale skinned and black haired man in his early thirties in a stained white shirt and sweatpants, his black eye staring aimlessly at his ceiling as he lay uselessly on his back, a once-fancy tie hanging from his neck and adding an air of complete and utter dejection with how unkempt it was instead of adding any elegance to him. It was as if there was nothing more for him to look forward to in life, his eyes barely even flicking to the intruder in his once-lively home.

It was genuinely the most pathetic sight Iori has ever laid eyes on in her life.

"Seriously, Black Silence, is one bad day all it takes to turn you from a fearsome Fixer into…this?" Iori searched for someplace clean enough for her to sit on, dragging what was meant to be a buffet chair next to the couch, eliciting an annoyed groan from the clearly intoxicated and/or deathly depressed man on the couch in front of her.

"Pfat." He tried spitting, although it came out far weaker than it needed to be if he was aiming at the intruder in his once-happy home. "L-Like your hypocritical rear can -hurk!- say anything about it…how long has it been th-that y-you've been looking f-for him now? Forty years? Maybe e-even longer than that, gah…" He rolled on the clearly unsanitary couch, clutching his stomach as he apparently fought against another gag. "All because of your one bad day…"

"What can I say? I'm the type to not lower my rifle once I get a target in sight." The purple-haired woman deflected easily, walking towards the depressed man on the bed, stopping when she was directly right above him, poking him with a long, sheathed sword. "And you, kid, just so happen to be my current target."

At that, the black haired man blinked, almost snorting. "Like hell I am, everyone in this goddamn City knows that you've only got one goal, one target, and it's the single one you couldn't reach even after forty years, if not more." He turned, giving her his back as he groaned in pain on the couch. "I thought you might be some raider who came to loot, plunder, and slaughter whoever stayed in these cursed streets…got my hopes up for nothing, instead, I got you. Just take what you want from me and let me die alone…" What was wrong with this man?! Did he know who she was?! Who was he to even think of talking to her like this- Of belittling him like this…?!

'Okay, Iori, deep breaths. You're better than this, you can control yourself.' She told herself internally, pinching the bridge of her nose, 'You already know the way of getting him off of his ass.'

Reopening her eyes, Iori simply gave a simple smile - a smile that screamed scheming and manipulative to those in the know, of whom was the man on the couch in front of her. That's what she had admired about him; he didn't usually let himself get led on, a good spy and an even better deductionist. Only, as with anyone who really knew her, he didn't exactly have the fondest memory of her. "Is this what you've been reduced to? Simply bemoaning and lamenting your fate, rolling in this filthy room after massacring just about anyone your hands could reach in an unrighteous fury?" She adopted a more confrontational approach, putting a hand on her waist, wondering if he even cared about the mocking tone in her voice. "Honestly, I can't help but wonder what that pregnant ex-wife of yours would say if she saw you like this…"

"...What did you just say?"

Suddenly, but not unforeseen from a mile away, Iori, found herself pinned against the wall of the filthy apartment space with an arm across her throat, her smile growing wider and more amused as she saw the bloodshot, tired and frankly sick pitch black eyes stare her down in pure, unrestricted fury.

"Heh, so this is what it took to stop you from acting in such a pathetic manner, yes? Why, I only said the truth, Roland~!" Iori stated cheerfully, completely looking and feeling unthreatened by the situation she found herself in, "I only spoke the truth, didn't I? You do value her enough to ruin your marital bed with…whatever it is that you're doing right now, and so it is clear that you still care for her. Do you honestly believe that's what she would've wanted- g-grhhg…!" The hand pressed on her throat a little too tightly for comfort, although she seemed just as uncaring as before."S-So aggressive!"

"Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me." Roland growled like an animal who had his prey in his grip "Why do you care, of all people? What about him, huh? W-Would he-" He stopped to stop another gag, his intoxication still quite strong. "Would he be happy with all the atrocities you did?"

"No." The answer was so simple, and yet so strong. "Of course, he wouldn't have been. I've been constantly working for myself, and I know as much, even if on my way, I help or ruin others. I consider myself a very honest woman, don't you think?"

"A very honest hag, more like…" Even before he finished his mockery, Roland suddenly felt an unseen strength flex under his arm, and he had to thank his biological augmentations for being able to keep the Purple Tear under his grasp.

"Listen here you little piece of waste, you married someone who was SIX YEARS your senior and you think you have the right to call me a-" No, no, calm down, Iori, you could do this. You could punish his insolence later. "I meant to say, of course, that there's no need for such hostilities. We only need to be honest, no?" Frankly, had it not been for the fact that he saw it, the poorly clothed - although his clothes were entirely caked with all manner of fluids. It was barely much better than a fancy rag at this point. - wouldn't have believed this was the same ha- woman who'd been barking at him a few seconds back. "I don't pretend to be someone who isn't me. You, however, still claim to love her, to act in her name." For once, Roland didn't yell back. "And I believe we both know this isn't what she'd want of you."

"...Why are you here, Iori?" Distrustful black eyes peered into her indifferent, manipulative purple ones, his grasp on her neck easing a little. "We've already established you don't care for those on your path. Why're even here? Ever since the White Nights and Dark Days, ever since that…that Pianist showed up in my home, killed my wife and unborn child, I've genuinely had nothing left. I've sacrificed everything to build this home and family, and now…" He chuckled soullessly. "Now, it's gone. I've ruined my career, and any other possible career, after the mindless killing spree I went on after their deaths, and all that remains of me now is a shambling half-dead corpse. What could you possibly offer me? If you had any care in your heart," He almost chuckled at that notion. Imagine, Iori having a heart for those she manipulates. "You'd have slit me open with that sword of yours."

"Even if I happened to get you off of the hook for your little rampage?"

"...What?"

"It's true!" Iori nearly chirped, both of her hands up in an honest gesture, snickering at the befuddled expression on the black haired man's face. "You've nothing left to lose, you said. Perhaps you're right in the fact that I cannot claim this is for you, but I can certainly help you avoid the consequences of your reckless actions, and maintain the façade of care for a while before offering you what your dark heart desires most:" She couldn't help but grin at his clearly dumbfounded look. "Revenge."

"...I already had my revenge on the thing that took away Angelica." He responded bitterly, the memory all too clear to him at the moment.

"But you never knew who brought it into existence." Iori 'tut'-ed, "What, did you think that the Pianist or the other monsters, the Distortions that have been popping up recently came from thin air? That they magically appeared out of nowhere for no reason whatsoever?"

"You mean from that bright pillar light that appeared at the former location of L Corp.?" The black haired man questioned, releasing his hold on Iori slightly. "You mean to tell me that it wasn't some freak accident? That someone was behind it?"

"Patience, my dear Roland, is a virtue~" Mysterious as always, the older, slightly taller woman shook a pretentious index, smiling patronizingly. "Let us say that I do know this person, and that I know how you can get very, very close to her." She enticed him, and he kept his silence, prompting her to continue. "I cannot, alas, offer you your revenge so soon; you must wait for the right moment to strike, you know, when your reputation isn't in complete shambles with people just around the corner ready to shiv you at a moment's notice."

"...And how am I supposed to know you're not just leading me on? That you won't just betray me the moment I even think of considering your words?" He tapped his foot, slowly but surely letting go of the Color in his hands, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, I cannot offer you any convincing evidence, although I would gain nothing of it. Besides," She smiled once more, slowly walking around the once-mighty Fixer beside her. "What do you have to lose if you trust little ol' me?"

"A lot of things including my dignity and whatever little innocence I may possibly have left."

"Well, fair enough." In a way, she supposed he wasn't wrong; she could've wronged him in plenty of ways, but she didn't have the intention now. "But still, Roland, it's either my word or this apartment. I understand its sentimental value, but think about it. I'll go my way if you say the word, and you'll stew in anxiety, wondering about this chance at revenge I offered you; you have, after all, nothing else to gain or lose. No friends, family, or loved ones left to care about what happens now, only this chance for revenge that I'm offering, regardless of its consequences. All you have to do is trust me." She waved her offer in front of him, and he seemed to consider it for a second, licking his lips.

"Even if I trust you, or just choose whatever manner of death you're offering me, I have a feeling you'll screw me over." Clever one, wasn't he? She supposed he was one of the best intelligence Fixers for a reason. " What exactly is in it for you? Why are you going out of your way to team up with a mentally unstable Color Fixer who is probably the most hated man in the City right now? You do know the risks of being associated with me at this point, right?"

"Of course I do." She simply answered, shrugging her shoulders. "Still, you should think better of me; the general public doesn't have to know you'll be staying with me, just that I have you under my wing of sorts. You'll leave this vulnerable apartment where anyone with a sharp knife and a wronged spirit and come and shank you, and-"

"Alright! Hold it, rewind a little." Roland raised a worried index, narrowing his eyes even further. "What was that about staying with you?"

"Ah, attentive, aren't you? Well, it's true that my residence is quite hidden from public knowledge. Even most Wings don't know where it is, and it'll be a good place to stay until the situation is perfect for your revenge. I have my own plans, of course, but I can always have a little something for you on the side, and I managed to pull a few strings here and there so that no one suspects your location nor will be actively looking for it unless you go out of your way to make yourself visible. You'll have vanished from the face of the earth for the City."

"Alright." Roland crossed his arms, unimpressed. "And where's the drawback?"

"Drawback? I never said anything about-"

"Cut the crap, Iori. Where's the drawback?"

"Hmph, so nosy! You ruined the surprise!" Which, again, wasn't surprising considering his occupation as an information Fixer, but still. It was just so fun to toy with him. "Well, I am quite the busy person, and I barely have any time for my own home, much less keeping it safe. Of course, I cannot hire any servants lest they flab their mouths about its location, but…"

"No! No, no, no! I will not be your maid, Iori! I refuse to be one!"

"...As tempting as it would be to put you in such a situation, that is not what I was referring to. Though now that you mentioned it…I would like someone to both guard my home and take care of it, yes…It's been years since I last took care of my wardrobe or room…" Maybe a little bit longer even. Look, she wasn't lying when she said she was a busy woman, alright?

"...I just made the deal a lot worse, didn't I?"

"Honestly? Probably."

"Me and my big, drunken mouth…of course this would happen to me…at this point, you might as well buy the maid suit already…" Beat. "...You don't have one already, do you? Iori…?"

"Not YET." Iori replied with a suspicious wink, "But to bring things back on track, shall we? You will not be allowed outside of your new home unless it is with me or a trusted associate of mine, as I cannot allow you out of my sight given how… violate your state of mind has become."

"So I'm a dog on a leash from now until our partnership ends if I agree?"

"Well…not exactly. It's a very long leash, if nothing else, and I assure you my home is quite, uh." Well, she didn't spend much time in it, really, but she did like it, honestly. "Homely."

"Thrilling."

"It also has an Internet connection?" She awkwardly boasted, tilting her head as she shrugged.

"Good, I'll be able to search how to tie a noose, then." He noticed her narrowed eyes, speaking before she could object. "To obviously tie my new maid outfit, of course. Can't think of leaving your servitude if I agree…"

"You know, I have to point out that you've been the only one to talk about maid outfits since I-"

"Moving beyond that," The younger man cleared his throat. "It's not like I seem to have much choice in the matter. It's either dying alone, depressed, and without any resolution or dying in the exact same way with a little more resolution." He sighed, running a hand on his face.

"We're all going to die one day, kid. It is a simple fact of life." Iori shrugged, though not without a little manipulative tint to her tone. "How we get to that point is the only real choice we have in this world in the end." She then ended a hand out. "What do you say, Black Silence?"

"...I'm so going to regret every single thing about this." The black haired man sighed, before taking the hand in a firm handshake, "Glad to sign my own death and humiliation warrant, Purple Tear."

"Please, Roland, we're going to be working closely as partners from here on out, so just call me Iori."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Iori." He spat the word as if it was laced with poison. "...Now what?"

"Well, now, you pack your sentimental trinkets and your bags and you firmly hold my hand; we'll teleport to my house." She pointed to the various pictures, wedding gifts and child clothes that littered the apartment.

"Ah, right; you were the one Fixer that had those experiments performed on her and could jump between time and space." Roland murmured, more to remind himself than anything else, as if opening a file cabinet in her mind.

"Only space and other dimensions, Roland." She raised a corrective index. "And I'll be happy to tell you all about it! But I have one request first before anything else."

"And that is?"

"Please, take a shower. You smell like complete shit, kid." At that, the former husband couldn't help but chuckle.

"Always 'hip with the slang', eh, Iori? Your hip bones may hurt at this rate." He tried his luck, and the response was a swift blow to his inner thigh from her sheathed sword that made him yelp.

"Just take a shower and pack your stuff. We leave in an hour." An hour that was going to prove quite boring for her; Iori wasn't exactly used to wasting time, always doing something or another to further her goal of finally finding the one she lost all those years back. Then again, she supposed, if her visions proved true, that she needed to wait for a few years before continuing her quest. "Ah, one last thing." She called out to the grumbling former Color as he wretched again, apparently still suffering from his poor health choices during the last month. "Do you know how to cook?"

"Used to. My wife liked to- why are you asking?" His casual answer immediately turned suspicious as he eyed her like she was planning on killing him in a moment.

"Oh, nothing, Roland. Nothing at all." She chuckled horribly. "I'm just thinking of how to make your wait a little less boring, a little more productive~"

"...What did I get myself into?"

"The greatest decision of your life, of course~" One could sell the dishonesty in her voice in space. "Trust me, once you get to achieve your goals, once you reach the place where you'll execute it, you'll feel a lot more free and it'll be liberating to finally do the things you want to do there without being chained by the City or anyone else." He listened to her, pondering her words for a second. "But for now, don't think about it too much, just do what you need to do and I'll…" She looked around the apartment. "...See if there's anything fun on TV?"

"Don't bother, I don't have any fancy channels. Just the kid-friendly ones since…I…" Since he thought he'd be a father. He swallowed his lamentations, not wishing to look weak in front of the deceitful snake he was going to work with now.

"Oh, good." Either ignoring his lamentation or not wishing to prod it, the taller woman picked up the remote control near the old-fashioned television, dragging the clean chair with her. "I want to see what sort of propaganda the Head is teaching the kids now. Their songs are so bloody catchy."

"That's how you spend your time, when you're not scheming? Watching children's programs?"

"A lady has to pass the time somehow." She chuckled, letting the younger man grumble as he waddled to the bathroom, letting her search the television on her own.

The future was certainly going to be quite interesting moving forward, and she was planning to enjoy it while it lasted. It's not often that she had a chance to slightly slow down during her quest, after all, besides, she needed the time to build up Roland, and, of course, the other lost kid she found, eheh…

This was going to be fun.

Seven Years Later…

Iori sighed as she closed the door behind her. Her purple clothes and tall hair swaying behind her, stepping into her apartment. It could hardly be classified as a mere apartment, really, with how spacious and luxurious it was. It made the fact that the Purple Tear didn't spend too much time in it rather ironic.

"After all of this time, that girl chooses now to reappear in the world..."

Honestly, if Iori didn't know better, then she would have assumed that the situation at hand was simply a part of one perfectly crafted plan created at the hands of some supernatural force that was playing the long game for some unknowable, unfathomable plan to irritate her as much as possible.

But she did know better, as were the perks of one having domain of dimensions.

Shaking her head, the purple-haired woman began walking down the hallway and towards the room of the man she took in seven years ago and who lived in this place more than its actual owner.

Half of it was due to Roland taking care of the place. While she didn't spend more than two or three days per week at her place, instead needing to pass nights elsewhere, she did have to admit that the new orderly and clean aura the apartment had was certainly pleasing, if nothing else. Roland's food wasn't half bad, either, and he did serve her quite well while waiting for the revenge she promised him.

Of course, part of it was that he had no other choice for the sake of his survival these past years. He knew so the moment he shook her hand all those years back, but he had taken it in stride, getting himself together and not arguing with her too much. He even allowed her to send him on some missions where she kept his identity anonymous, with the missions varying from delivering basic information to her work partners that she had her eye on for a certain project she has in the works to taking out some peaky enemies that been a thorn in her side for too long.

And yet, one could dare she say that she grew a little fond - even attached? - of him during those years. He was almost like a somewhat endearing moody teenager if teenagers were almost forty; he was always at her home to welcome her dismissively, made food and then ate it with her in silence, and would often spend the nights she'd share with him talking to her or throwing thinly-veiled snarky comments her way.

It was almost…fun. It reminded her of some better days, when she wasn't almost universally despised by anyone with any knowledge of her. Of course, she was working on getting some elements of those days back, but…Bah, it was unimportant to think about that now.

Now, she had to set the next piece of her plan in motion; the seven years of waiting were a welcome change to allow her to slow her pace a little.

No, not because of her age thank you very much, but it was time to get to work with her plan once more.

'Hopefully, I am able to get him where he needs to be before the hounds fully unload on the place.' Iori thought coolly as she gracefully turned in a corner and into one of the half dozen hallways. The fact that both of them made sure Roland was on the down low, out of sight and out of mind as possible would certainly help.

That particular advantage was a secondary result of them needing him to keep his identity and location on every single mission he took on a complete secret in any way need be; from extra pay from her to keep certain partners' curiosity sated or threats of death that may or may not had to be carry out by Roland for those particularly annoying individuals who was getting too close to the sun, the Black Silence's presence and location in the City was kept in the dark as much as possible due to the actions taken by him after his killing of the Pianist.

Truly, that bloody rampage of his after causing the death of the Distortion would be something truly awe-inspiring if it weren't for the fact that said actions were a mindless, indiscriminate killing spree that practically ruined his reputation in every way possible, resulting in his demotion from a Grade 1 to Grade 9 Fixer in one single swoop. That's not even mentioning the many individuals that he slighted in his drunken act of murder. From petty murderers or criminal Syndicates, to other Fixers and even the Five Fingers AND Fixer Associations, he truly spared no effort when it came to making sure no one supported him.

It was a little difficult to believe he was the same kid who'd get so giddy whenever she offered him a HamHamPangPang night between the two of them. Truly, time was a harsh mistress no one could escape.

It was no exaggeration to say that Iori burned numerous bridges vouching for Roland and convincing representatives from the various Wings that knew of his identity to allow Roland to live with her without threat of retribution from those he cost much. Iori was forced to use up many old debts and to call upon decades-old connections to assure this arrangement between her and her ward was allowed and forced to accept by the many victims and enemies Roland created on that fateful day at least, the ones she had to care about for once.

Honestly, Iori sometimes wondered if it was truly worth going through so much struggle and effort for this one broken man.

And yet, when she remembered what the end goal was for all of this, those doubts were dispelled in an instant.

'It'll all be worth it in the end.' The Purple Tear thought fiercely as she reached her destination and knocked on the door, 'And I shall do my damndest to make sure it is, even if it's the last thing I do!'

Knock, knock, knock...

"Guess who's back, kid?"

"Is it my worst nightmare given a human form?"

"Correction: I'm your favorite worst nightmare!"

There was a groan from behind the door. Well, he didn't seem to have been sleeping, at least. He was always in a worse mood if she woke him up. Instead, he was fully clothed in his typical black Fixer suit when he opened the door to his room, originally a servants' room. He seemed rather bored, leaning on the door frame and staring at his taller host.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Iori herself visiting." He waved to her with one hand, and she returned it with much more enthusiasm. "What makes my owner return so soon? It's barely the start of the week, you're hardly ever here before the weekend. Are you looking to make me go take another job for ya'?" It was true that Iori did like how efficient he was. It wasn't in their original contract, but when he had to wait for so long for his promised 'revenge', he had to spend time doing something.

"Hmph, how cold! You don't seem to imagine I could simply enjoy your company, kid." The magenta-eyed woman scoffed, faux-offended. He merely shrugged in return.

"I know myself too well to think anyone would enjoy my company after Angelica…y'know. We only spend time together on the weekend and HamHamPangPang night or chess night, and considering today is none of these things…" He raised an eyebrow at his host. "I think I'm allowed to question things a little, no?"

"You wouldn't have survived this long if you didn't, now would you?" Iori agreed cheekily before going inside the room - making Roland grunt in annoyance - before sitting on the king-size bed in the center of the room, making herself comfortable and leaning back while having both hands firmly on the mattress, "Still, I come baring very exciting news for the both of us. There's been a major shake-up in the City that a few important movers and shakers will soon take notice of." She almost winked at that last note, though Roland didn't seem to get her point.

"What? Is the economy changing or something? What does this have to do with the both of us, Iori?" Seriously, he was trying to rake his head for information, but none of his recent missions were of any importance, and he was pretty sure being Iori's butler and cleaning her home, washing the laundry and making dinner changed the world.

"What it has to do with us, Black Silence," She grinned even wider, almost bouncing off of the bed and onto her feet. "Is that it means our wait is over, or more accurately, your wait is over."

"...What? Iori, I don't-"

"Kid, your revenge It is the reason you're here, in the end~" His dumbfounded expression was simply too fun. Iori could've chuckled at it endlessly. "The one reason you've been waiting with me, it's gone. You can get going right now."

"...Where?"

'This fog is not normal.'

That was the first thing Iori noticed as she stopped at the desired spot, her sword on her hip, her usually self-assured and smug expression absent, instead her eyes observant and calculating as she looked over the area that formerly held the Lobotomy Corporation from a distance.

It was one of the biggest stepping stones to the puzzle she had been putting together for nearly forty years now. It was a little surreal to a regular person, perhaps, but Iori was not a regular person. She had a plan, and although she couldn't tell what the journey would look like, or she could only do so in a vague sense, she had a distinct feeling she knew how it would end.

She only needed to play her cards right.

"I'll be damned. This fog almost makes me think of the Smoke War all over again." And her Ace for this round would be Roland, who was in the trademark Fixer uniform: a black suit with a white undershirt, a black tie, black pants, and black shoes. She had to hope he'd accomplish the role she expected of him the moment she'd send him inside. "You know, Iori, when I said 'where', I hadn't expected you to just drag me and teleport me with you to the middle of nowhere."

"Well, you were already clothed, no~? That's all you'll need for now, trust me." The Purple Tear assured her junior, her iconic grin flowering on her features, a flicking a wrist to wave his worries away.

"...Iori, I'm not even armed, you expect me to choke whoever caused my wife's death or to bludgeon them with my fists? Because, okay, I'll do it, but I didn't think you were such a proponent of violence." He raised an eyebrow, although she merely 'tut'-ed.

"My dear, naïve Black Silence…" She shook her head like a disappointed child, making him frown; he had always disliked her patronizing tone when he wouldn't get something she said. "Once you're inside, you'll understand. I assure you you'll find weapons there all by yourself, although you won't need them so soon."

"And do you plan to tell me why?"

"Not quite, because the new best friend you'll be making in your time very difficult if she happens to notice you having too much knowledge about her." Even to the end of their deal, it appeared Iori still decided to remain obfuscating and unclear as she had always been.

"So, that's it, huh? You'll just teleport me inside and let me figure it out?"

"For the most part; it would fulfill our deal, no?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Roland held his silence for a moment, noticing as the Purple Tear offered a hand, a sign she would teleport him soon. "I guess I should also say something, you know?"

"Huh?"

"You know, to you. We've spent nearly seven years together at this point. I guess I want to tell you something." Well, that was…It was one thing Iori couldn't expect. She was glad it wasn't a hindrance, though she expected he'd have simply wanted to be done with her.

"Like what? Another joke at the cost of my youth?" She narrowed her eyes for a second; he did take a few cheap laughs at her expense a few too many times.

"Well, I entertained the idea," He winked with a grin of his own. "But honestly…I dunno, really. I guess I want to say we didn't have a terrible time together, you know?"

"Hm?"

"You know…At first, I thought we were always going to curse each other at the first opportunity, but I guess we sometimes had a good time together. HamHamPangPang night, the occasional thrills of a mission together or a laugh…you're a garbage human being, Iori, make no mistake," She rolled her eyes at the reminder. "But I wish you weren't. I bet a lot of the Fixers you once taught hope you weren't." He bit his lip for a moment, sighing. "I guess a lot of people who knew me wish I weren't one myself, either."

"But we've gone too far, haven't we?" Iori recognized quietly, somewhat taken aback by the confession.

"No, we're simply too afraid to recognize we can go back." Roland swallowed for a moment, letting the silence reign for a few extra seconds. "It's been good, Iori. I wish you'll find your own peace one day, unlike me."

"...The path I've chosen, Roland, cannot allow me this peace soon. Not if I want to see him again…"

"I know, I know. Just thought it might be worth it, you know, to tell you that someone cares that you do." A few more seconds of silence. Apparently, she had no answer for the moment. "Very well. Let's go, Purple Tear." He raised his hand, taking the chance for his revenge.

"...As you wish, Black Silence." Iori held his hand, swallowing before continuing her speech. "Now, remember, when you're going to be in there, it'll be fun to finally do whatever you want without always worrying about what the City may think. Keep this in mind, kid. I hope it helps ya'. And…" She sighed. She was simply too sentimental in the end, wasn't she? "It's been good with you too. Now, prepare yourself! I'll teleport you in three, two, one…"

CREEZSK!

"...I wish you good luck…Roland."

"Damn it…the Purple Tear. Can't believe this is how she handled it…"

Roland stretched his limbs, rolling his shoulders as he took stock of the new area he was in, "What the hell happened? What's with all of this smoke?"

All around him were what seemed to be countless Library shelves and columns, a strange light aura emitting from them.

"Guess I'll have to trust her-"

"...I'll only say this once."

Roland snapped into attention and forward at the cold voice directed at him.

Suddenly, without any warning or even hint of her appearance, a woman in a dress made out of black feathers and short blue hair was staring at him, her golden eyes glaring relentlessly at him.

"I despise verbose and roundabout speech that doesn't get straight to the point." The woman seemed rather irate. Well, this was certainly a good situation to be in without a weapon while in a hostile environment, eh? "So don't try to get wordy. Just answer my questions:" Very, very irate. Must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed, Roland thought. Or maybe this was just her nature, which would've been an even better surprise. "Where did you come from, how did you enter this place, and for what purpose?"

'Hi, unknown woman! I'm Roland, I came from the single most knowledgeable and manipulative person in the City's home, I entered through her secret powers, and I'm here to kill the person who killed my wife, likely someone with a nice attitude like you.' Who did she think he was? Some Grade 9? Well, he was now, but still…She was acting far too high-and-mighty for his liking.

"Well, who are you to-" Roland tried arguing back, although a wave of nausea hit him all of a sudden. Great, teleportation sickness, just what he needed. Well, he was sure she could wait a little for him to recover. "Ugh, boy…I'm suddenly getting all nauseous…

STAB!

A scream echoed throughout the Library as the man tried containing it, hissing at the sudden pain as he looked down, his eyes widening when he noticed his right leg was almost severed. Good grief this woman commanded the power of a Color Fixer!

'Well, great. Just fine and dandy…I've been in worse situations before and I managed, but if I attack her now…Hell, she might just be able to kill me or heal herself…I'm on her turf in the end, but I do have the advantage of not knowing anything; she can't torture me and find out I'm lying or something…Maybe that old lady was onto something, after all…'

"I warned you, and you crossed the line. Let me ask you one more time." What line?! He was just complaining about his nausea! Even Iori wasn't this bad and he barely knew this blue haired woman/bird/angriness hybrid! Also, wasn't she a little too pale to be a human…? "Where did you come from, how did you enter this place, and for what purpose?" Well, that was the easy part, at least: Lying! Well, lying convincingly, but he did have a good record. Roland took deep breaths, making it seem like the pain was worse than it was. He could handle the pain, the blood loss…maybe not so much.

"I was just walking around and ended up here before I even realized it. I got no idea how I ended up here." He kept a calm tone, and he wasn't entirely lying; he had no idea how Iori's powers worked, in the end. "Dammit, blood's gushing out of my right leg…I swear I wasn't trying to trespass, I don't even know where this is!" Oooh, that was a good pathetic-sounding plea. Honestly, he was so much better than the third-grade actors Iori liked to snort at in the television. Maybe he should've left this Fixer business and just went to acting. He decided to continue with his current scene. "I woke up around 1 PM and started walking around the streets of District 13. Since I was just out and about, I figured I could do whatever I wanted, so I decided to drop by HamHamPangPang since they served a special weekly sandwich." Maybe he could've even been a scenarist, too. Getting more and more confident, Roland followed-up: "Anyway, I had bills to pay, got no jobs, had to make a living somehow as a one-man Offi-"

STAB!

Another howl of pain echoed throughout the Library. And there went his right arm! Great! Fan-flippin'-tastic! No, no, it's not like he used his right arm for anything, not at all! What was wrong with this woman? Was she sadistic? He liked sadistic, Angelica could be a few times, but she never took his limbs off what the hell bird-lady!

"You went on for too long. I'll be taking your left arm and left leg next." Oh, no, she was just an insufferable piece of garbage. Deep down, Roland knew that Iori was, at least, truthful in offering him his revenge; surely she wouldn't have sent him to die, but the process of reaching that chance…oh, he was starting to think of a few ways to hurt this blue-haired lady alright. "You have no purpose, and you don't even know how you got here…just who are you?" Gah, the superiority with which she talked to him- If only she knew who he was…

"K-Kah…I'm just an ordinary Fixer who's hit rock bottom…what the hell is this place? And who are you?" Ah, shoot. Well, maybe he pushed his luck a little, but come on, he at least deserved to know who was torturing him-

STAB! STAB!

And those were fifteen more painful ways Roland had planned to rip her intestines from her nose! There went all of his limbs. Now what? It was going to cost so much to buy them back…

"Gghrghhhh! Come on, taking two limbs at once is cheating…" He tried smiling at the end of his sentence, though instead, he tried seeming panicked, still playing the poor, unsuspecting man's part.

"I'm the one asking questions." You little pretentious piece of- "Your name?"

"Roland…" He mustered out, watching the blood from out from where his limbs had once been. It was a little fascinating if it wasn't, you know, his body.

"Good. Welcome to the Library. We're not yet ready to serve any guests, but then you suddenly appeared out of nowhere…" Somehow, it brought some comfort to Roland to know that Iori screwed even with this seemingly all-powerful woman's plans and rules. It was just a universal constant; unless you are the Head and can thus do the screwing, Iori can always screw with whoever she wants. "It took me quite a bit of time designing this Library to make sure no guest could enter uninvited, you see. Again." Oh, so she could talk, but not him?! And what do you mean again? Did Iori summon alternate dimension versions of himself first? Please don't tell him she summoned them from the Fourth Dimension again?!

"Dammit, these limbs were all I had…" Alongside his Internet connection at Iori's place and HamHamPangPang, but he could only use the few amenities in life with his limbs. While the bird-woman was so concerned about her Library or whatever being trespassed on, she took all his limbs. "I don't have any cash or mortgages to get new ones anymore…" He felt weak, and he suddenly realized he was in a pool of his own blood, his vision quickly fading. Ah, great. How many liters could he lose again before dying? Two? Well, he was definitely losing a lot more than just two like this…He tried staying awake, but his vision was quickly going black as he tried lifting his head from the floor. If Iori had truly swindled him and left him to die like this…

"...Seems he's fainted." Angela noted at last, giving a prod to the half-dead man under her with one of her high-heels.

"'Seems he's fainted?!' Angela, what the hell!"

From behind one of the bookshelves, Powder's twin-tailed hair poked out, followed by the teenager herself. "You took the man's limbs and left him in a pool of his own damn blood! I know you told me to stay put while you handled the situation, but, like, Angela, you maimed the man because he asked your name? You didn't handle the situation as much as you manhandled the man! Which…I guess is in a way funny in a totally messed up way, but still!" Angela's assistant seemed outraged, pointing at the suited man in the pool of blood.

"What? He trespassed, Powder! And besides, he's not the first we'll have to take care of." The AI defended herself, taking a step closer to her subordinate, who put a hand on her arm.

"Yes, Angela, I get it, but he just asked your name. Like, what if I was in his situation? What if I had just asked your name- wait, I did that! I asked your name when I woke up after first getting here, remember?" The taller woman nodded, letting Powder scratch the back of her neck. "Okay, what was the difference, then? Why wasn't I sitting in a pool of blood?"

"Wha- Powder!" As if offended by the mere concept of hurting her newest Patron Librarian, Angela scoffed, imitating the shorter girl's gesture and putting a hand on her shoulder. "I couldn't have hurt a child for just being where they shouldn't be! Besides, you were kind and polite, unlike him." She justified herself, pointing to the still-bleeding man.

"And I maintain he just asked your name after you already took two limbs- Wait does that mean if teenage me was in that situation I'd have been in his place?" A silence, before Angela looked away awkwardly. "Angelaaaaaaa!"

"Okay, okay, sorry! I was going to heal him anyway, you know that? I have to know how he got in."

"Well, yeah, it's just- You're not being protective, are you?" Powder's mind-gears suddenly started turning, letting her raise a suspicious eyebrow.

"What?"

"You're not doing this because I'm here and you're being protective, are you?"

"...No?"

"So you're not being a soft-"

"Oh, would you look at that? It would seem it's time to work on healing this 'Roland' before he bleeds to death." Angela turned her golden eyes to his bleeding body, moving a hand to utilize the Light to stabilize his condition. "We can continue this discussion after we reawaken him."

"Alright, alright." Powder conceded, placing both of her hands behind her head as she gave a worry stare towards the bloodied man on the floor. "And let's just suffice with threats until he tries hitting us."

"I'll try."

And thus begins the Library of Ruina storyline!

Please do tell your thoughts as usual and leave a review if you can!