It was a strange thing to duel somebody as small and as dexterous as Antonio. Many missed blows had been exchanged on either side, and Clive, used to fighting humans who were clumsy and unused to physical combat, it came as a bit of a shock to meet an opponent who managed to evade every singe claw swipe he dished out on the battlefield. The bandit was a flurry of slashes and kicks, each one missing and hitting clear air or a wall, but each attack getting nearer and nearer to a successful hit. These fighters, they were very closely matched, both relying on the same weapon, claws, and both having their own driven reason to fight.

Antonio was bashed into the wall, though he only remained there for the fraction of a second, sliding down it intentionally on his stomach until he was prone on the floor, and then used the full strength of his hands touching the wall to push off and slip away, small enough to escape through the lycanthrope's legs. Clive put his fist through the space of rock that had contained a bandit only a nanosecond earlier. Growling in frustration, Clive turned around and was sharply kicked in the chest, his growl becoming a wheezing bark from the strike. Antonio moved like lightning, a wild shriek piercing the air that sounded like some kind of high-pitched ninja war cry. It was now Clive's turn to be pushed into the wall, but he made use of the support well and slashed blindly at the air in front of him, hoping that his random attack would somehow made a hit. He felt his claws scrape something lightly in midair, but not made any real contact, and he wished that the body he was currently stuck with was more mobile than it was.

Doing an agile flip in mid-air, Antonio landed gracefully on his feet and staggered a little under the duress, breathing a little heavier than before. Slowly, he raised a gloved hand to wipe his cheek, lightly sliced open by Clive's claws, and stared at the blood imprinted like a long line down his palm. This wound would probably give him a scar, it really stung. Looking back up at Clive, who lurched off the wall and hunched forward slightly, flexing his claws, the small bandit snorted, and spat out a curse. "¡Caramba!" He wiped the blood away. "I no let you get away, no from killing 'Ro, no for taking chica. I stop you now!" Antonio, despite being on the wrong side, knew that his heart was in the right place, he wanted to save Kaitlyn, he wanted to do the right thing. He knew that stopping this monster was the only way to save her, and he had to give it his best shot.

Clive moved before he did, and Antonio was forced to switch to the defensive, dropping and making a quick roll to the side. The lycan was relying more on punches and bodyblows than swipes and bites, being driven by a human mind gave Clive a noticeable disadvantage. He was reluctant to fight in the way that he had massacred Romero, that was not who he was, he was Clive Winslett, not a mindless monster any more. Because of this, he might even stand a chance at losing. Antonio was struck hard in the face by the back of Clive's claw, the force behind the blow enough to knock the bandit to the ground, blood starting to pour out of his nose. Again, as soon as he touched the ground, he was up again, and reacted in the way he moved, with ambidextrous agility. Antonio's artificial claws met their mark and Clive howled, stumbling back and clutching at his nose, cut badly from the attack.

I cannot believe it, the human is actually winning the fight… It must be, he has revenge on his mind, it is the only thing that would drive a person so… I understand, but, I have to win… I must!

He bellowed, not a howl, and not a simple roar. He put all of the power of his lungs into the sound, leaning back and opening his jaws out so the maximum amount of sound was produced. The result; the walls nearly vibrated with the noise, a long and fearsome death cry that would scare the coldest of killers into submission. Kaitlyn, horrified by the scene unfolding out in front of her, put her hands over her ears and cried, while Antonio stopped dead in his tracks, hazel eyes wide, as if the sound had shocked him out of the next attack he was preparing. Clive almost surprised himself by the ferocity of the sound.

There! This as about as stunned as I can get this bandit to be… Now I must modify my attack. I cannot win if I continue to fight as a human, I must accept it, that is not who I am. In a monster body, I must fight like a monster myself…

Trusting the inborn instinct implanted into his mind, Clive dropped down to all fours and pounced on Antonio, pinning the ninja to the ground. Antonio, who's eyes has almost glazed over by the roar, suddenly snapped back into life and yelled, clicking the back of his heel against the floor and triggering a mechanism in the sole of the boot, causing a small sharp blade to pop out of the boot at the tip, hidden until then. Using this, he kicked Clive hard in the stomach, and watched the lycan whimper and sag over him, intensely feeling the pain. Antonio then pushed Clive off and scrambled to his feet, holding his bloody nose and wondering what to do next.

Clive was propping himself up using his elbow and holding his stomach with his other arm, dark blood running down it and pattering on the dirty ground underneath him. He shivered, but shakily stood up again, hoping that his healing factor would eventually kick in and lend a helping hand. One leg almost buckled underneath him, unused to standing like a human and straining, while Clive yelped in surprise and fought to maintain his balance.

The ninja reached out to swipe at Clive's face again, having to crouch down and jump in order to reach him. Clive grabbed his arm, turned, and bashed Antonio in the exact same place he had previously struck the bandit against the wall, making a mark in the crumbling stone and forcing the small man to feel the spine in his back being pushed to the near breaking point. In a mad rage, Clive stretched Antonio's arm out and bit into the elbow joint, sinking his teeth down as far as possible and trying not to recoil from the thick taste of spurting blood, now disgusting and foul-tasting to his human palate. Antonio shrieked and tried to pull his arm away, flailing out with his free one and sliced Clive deeply across the chest. His shirt tore and more blood flowed freely, but Clive was numb enough by the previous blows to barely notice the difference. Pulling back and trying to attain his full height, Antonio's short stature and the ferocity of the jaw lock caused the bandit's arm to dislocate at the shoulder socket, the foreign man writhing under the rip and pull of his aching muscle and sinew.

Clive, hating what he was doing to the human, be it a bandit or not, finally dropped Antonio and decided to end his misery, as quickly and as painlessly as possible. He had defended himself, now it was time to end the fight. Antonio, lying on his back and clutching weakly at his arm, was defenceless. Clive slashed him across the stomach in a manner much like Travis had suffered, weaker, maybe, but it would still do the job. The bandit groaned softly, but was too weak to retaliate. Red blood mixed with black blood on the floor and Clive leaned against the wide wall, feeling sick. He was panting heavily as his healing factor finally activated, powerful and resealing more than half of his wounds and injuries. The blood stopped flowing and he felt a little better, his thoughts now turning back to Kaitlyn. She was still nearby.

Getting up, he lurched back over to her, his steps wobbly by his weakened state. She was still huddled close by, but her back was to the outside world and she had not allowed herself to witness the fight, wise enough to block the spectacle out of her vision. She turned back as he heard her father approach, at the moment when Clive lost all his strength and stumbled on a stone, falling harshly on his side and pressing Romero's throwing star deeper into his body. Whimpering sadly, he was still.

Too much damage… ugh… Beaten by a human… Always happens… Always fail…

A tiny pair of hands gently took a hold of his coat and rolled him onto his back, so the metal obstruction was no longer so painful in his side. Kaitlyn entered his field of vision, her tear-streaked face openly showing concern. "Daddy?" She asked, shaking him lightly. "Are you okay? Daddy?" Carefully, he sat up and touched his stomach, where long gashes in his shirt were splashed with blood, but the cuts that had been there only moments ago, had gone. The only thing left was the queasiness, and a stinging sensation on his nose. Remembering that Kaitlyn had spoken, Clive nodded and placed a claw on her head, gently, and making sure to wipe the blood off on his coat first.

Kaitlyn hugged him and Clive winced, but managed to hide the motion well and hug back, the rate of his breathing softening just a little bit. The little girl's hand brushed the metal of the throwing star embedded in the wound and she closed her hands around the flat of the metal, looking up at her father before attempting to pull it out, trying at the same time not to cut herself. The lycan grunted and clenched his teeth as he felt it, but it came out easier than Kaitlyn expected, though it also snared a small piece of flesh and left a rough open wound. Still, it lessened the pain Clive was feeling, and using the healing factor, it was gone within moments. Kaitlyn dropped the piece of metal like it was poisonous and clung to her father, crying softly again. She didn't really know why she was crying, she had her father back, she was about to be imminently rescued, why was she so sad?

Then she remembered Antonio. Looking over to where the bandit had been lying wounded, Antonio was no longer there, now leaning up against the wall with a long trail of blood dribbling down along the path he had walked, spilling from his arm and stomach. His olive complexion had paled straight after he had been bitten, even as he struggled to stay awake from the lack of blood that was tiring him out, the lycan virus had already infected his bloodstream, penetrating his very immune system. To Antonio, it felt as if his innards were writhing in pain. "W-why… you stay with monster, chica?" He asked Kaitlyn, his breath whistling and faint, trying not to throw up as every syllable was uttered. "I-I…I no understand…" He coughed. "Why you call him 'Daddy'?"

"He is my Daddy!" Kaitlyn protested, crying out the words. "I know it!" The girl watched Antonio limp along the edge of the room, using the wall for support. As he moved, the trail of blood lengthened, and a long smear from Antonio's arm painted a section of the wall red. The bandit was limping to an opening not too far away, seeming to try and make his escape. Clive stood, picking Kaitlyn up with him, and the small man glowered, slumping forward a little bit more. Clive wanted to finish the bandit off, but he would rather continue holding Kaitlyn than commit any more acts of violence, knowing this, he took a few steps away, keeping his gaze on Antonio.

If it were possible, the usually cheerful man's face became as black as the night. "¡Cabron!" He spat at Clive, the claws on his gloves retracting as he wrapped one arm around his stomach injury, the other one hanging limply. With a speed amazing for an injured man, he left the wall and made a break for the passageway, disappearing in less than a few seconds. Outside, his blood was still fresh on the floor. Now that they were safe, Clive set Kaitlyn down and knelt so that they were at the same height, checking to see if she was harmed in any way.

"Daddy, no really, I'm fine." She protested, somewhat heartened. "I scraped my knee yesterday, but nobody hurt me. They were really nice to me." She explained, smoothing down her old band-aid that was hanging off by one end. Then, both the lycan and the girl turned as they heard a scraping noise behind them, located in a small corner of the room. Dario was trembling, his back against the wall, pale and shaking like a leaf. He had been witness to everything, Romero's murder, Antonio's wounding, and was scared almost shitless. His knees knocked together, he shook, and he pressed himself further against the wall, having nowhere else to hide.

"St-st-st-st-stay away…" He quavered, taking out his Gillius ARM, though there was no way he would be able to shoot it straight. Clive took this as a challenge and growled moving forward one step. "I'm warning you! Stay b-back!" Dario nearly shrieked and the safety on his gun came off, though it didn't bother Clive too much. Normal bullets were unable to harm him, anyway. Suddenly and quietly, the lycan and girl heard the soft sound of liquid spilling to the ground, and Dario went red, ashamed. He had wet himself. Nearly chuckling, Clive stepped forward again, eager to get rid of the bandits who had so deceitfully kidnapped his daughter. He wouldn't let anyone get away unscathed, nobody. He swore that he would torture every single bandit that he could find.

Kaitlyn quickly grabbed at the sleeve of Clive's red coat, making the lycanthrope stop in his tracks instantly. "No!" She cried, "Don't hurt him Daddy! He's not a bad man! He won't hurt us if we leave him alone! Please Daddy! Let him go!" More tears gathered in her eyes, and she pulled on his sleeve feebly, trying to impose her will on the powerful monster. Somehow, she succeeded. He paused, shifting his gaze between Dario and Kaitlyn. The little girl looked desperately at the bearded bandit. "Mister Dario! Please go!" She begged.

He didn't need to be told twice. Dario made himself scare awfully quick. Now, when both father and daughter were alone, Kaitlyn climbed into Clive's arms again and sighed deeply, so glad that the horrible kidnapping was finally over. There were still some very important questions she was curious to know the answers to, why her father looked they way he did, for example, but that all could wait. All Kaitlyn wanted right now was to go home and see her mother, she had never missed her so much before. Going back the way he came, Clive retraced his steps, moving slower on two legs so he could support Kaitlyn, heading back to the entrance of the ruin. He had completed what he'd set out to do, Kaitlyn was safe and sound.

That was all that mattered. He forgot about his own complication, the hideous warping of his own body, that was not important. In truth, he could barely even notice the difference now between his old body and his new one. Clive had adapted to this, and it felt easier now, more natural to move and react in this way. True, he had returned to a human frame of mind, with reason and conscience, but the placement of that ability was still subjective to a wolf demeanor and attitude. He was both at the same time. The spookiest thing was, he was absolutely fine with it to stay that way.

He just didn't mind.

xxx

"This is the ruin?" Jet asked out loud, unimpressed.

"Yes." Catherine confirmed, herself and the remainder of the Maxwell Gang now standing outside of the wide open gateway into the earth. The night air was cool and refreshing, it washed away the slight feeling of unpleasantness from the teleportation spell, but it also made them a little reluctant to enter, knowing that it would be close and stuffy inside. They spent a minute outside just preparing themselves mentally to go in, knowing that they might not come out again. Catherine stared into the mouth of the cave and recalled the time nearly eleven years ago, when she had been a small stubborn girl of only nineteen years old, when she had entered this place for the first time, naïvely expecting that assignment to be just another careless venture into the unknown. Oh, how wrong she had been…

xxx

Every hundred meters or so, Catherine had to keep on turning around to check on Clive's slow process, his long trudge after her in the boiling heat, carrying a huge backpack full of archaeological tools, seeing that at the time, they could not really afford a horse, or even a donkey to carry it for them. Consistently, she heard a string of complaints coming from him that just didn't quit, involving the temperature of the day, how his feet were feeling, or how much of a slave driver she really was. Finally, she stopped, hands on her hips, and glared at the green-haired youth, mildly upset. "What did you say about my father?" She demanded, grey eyes stern.

Clive shrugged carelessly, somehow managing to do it under all the supplies he was carrying. "I said he was a coldhearted evil bastard for making us come out all the way here without even a mount to carry all our stuff. I'm not a donkey, why do I have to do it?" Rolling one of his shoulders, he readjusted the strap of his Gungnir ARM and steadily met Catherine's eyes, not about to back down to her or her father. Groaning, he slid off the backpack and dropped it on the ground, a dull throb in his shoulders reminding him just how heavy the supplies had been.

"I know you're not a donkey, Clive." Catherine said levelly, her hand unconsciously going to the strap of her own Fafnir ARM in a mimicry of Clive's movement. "I know it's hard, and we've been walking all day, but you've been complaining all day as well. Will you can it for a while, please? We're almost there." She had a witty idea, and she smiled. "Not a donkey, hmm? But you certainly are an ass." Catherine giggled, and Clive's eyebrow twitched.

"Bitch." He said.

"Bastard." She replied.

"Ugly." He pressed.

"Man-whore." She retaliated.

They both laughed at the small war of insults and pressed on, the mountains up ahead. In that place, was the ruin they were supposed to examine for Berlitz's study and research. Not only that, but it may contain the artifacts needed to generate money for their own livelihood, because they were in intense financial turmoil. Life in the wastelands was one ordeal after another, for the drifting partners not even out of their teenage years just yet. However, what Clive and Catherine never knew, was that the ruin, and what it contained, would be the bane of both their lives, for years to come. After the day they had first entered, it would be a place they would never wish to tread again.

xxx

But Fate was fickle, Fate was cruel, she was a mistress who toyed with people whenever she saw fit, to anyone and everyone she desired. She twisted lives, destroyed some, spared others. Rarely, she even rewarded mortals with a miracle or two. But, in essence, Fate would be a blindfolded woman dishing out hope and despair. Catherine, with all the experiences learnt in her long difficult life, knew one thing. Fate may have been blindfolded, but she peeked. All Catherine could hope for was that she was smiling in her own direction, for the sake of all her friends and family.

Without a second thought, she walked boldly into the entrance of the ruin, and didn't look back.