Upward, the duo climbed as they headed toward the deck. All they needed to do now is steal one of the life boats and escape. Then, it was out of their hands and they just needed to go home. But not yet. Once the blonde menace set foot on the deck, he was pulled back by his beau as a flurry of bullets were fired in his direction.

"What the fuck?!" the man shouted, leaning against the bluenette as he stayed out of range.

"Looks like they anticipated us coming up here." Speculated the Phantomhive. "Any plans?"

"I got nothin'." Alois replied. "If we had some kind of shield, we could probably get somewhere."

"Let's look around, then." The bluenette replied as both of them began searching. Suddenly, however, they both stopped.

"Hold on a second…" the Macken said, holding up a finger. He pointed before pressing the finger up to his lips and shushing Ciel. Then, he proceeded to tip toe up to a broom closet located in the hallway. Gripping the doorknob, he found that it was locked—or rather, was being held closed from the other side.

"Come on out, now. No need to be shy!" he declared, yanking the door open and subsequently pulling the person on the other side with it. They let out a yelp as they hit the floor, only to scramble to their feet again. The man quickly pressed his back into the wall, trying to get as much distance between him and the demons as possible.

"Li-listen! I don't want any trouble!" the man said, holding his hands up. "I-I know you were looking for me, so let's work something out!"

"Looking for you?" echoed the menace, looking over to the Phantomhive while arching an eyebrow in confusion.

"Harris Hartley," the bluenette began. "How good it is to finally meet you. Unfortunately, however, we no longer need you, so you are disposable."

Hartley squeaked at what that implied, only to furrow his brow in a snarl. "You'll have to catch me, first!" he growled, baring his teeth. Taking a strong stance, he took a deep breath and grunted. The hair on his forearms stood on end and grew longer and fuller, as did his facial hair and the hair on his head. Veins protruded from his forehead as his limbs elongated and his muscles shifted, causing his clothes to rip. Harris' ears grew pointed and migrated to the top of his head.

"Oh yeah, you're a werewolf…" mumbled the menace. "That's a relief. I thought he was trying to shit himself or something for a minute…" he said to his partner before turning his attention back to Hartley.

"Harris, my friend here is wrong! You're not disposable! In fact, the bigger you get, the more useful you are!" Alois declared, cocking his arm back and grabbing the lycanthrope by the throat mid-transformation. Swinging him around, he aimed the man toward the door and pushed him out.

"Single file, everyone!" he said. "Everyone behind Harris!"

The blonde devil was quickly followed by Ciel, both men wearing wicked grins as Harris screamed. Bullet holes began appearing in the man's body until his compatriots realised what they had done. How could these people use another person as a shield? That was cold-blooded. Inhumane! It was heartless, and it was cruel, but it worked. The duo was safe right up until they tossed Harris' body aside and leapt into the crowd, guns drawn, swords out.

Further friendly fire ensued. While trying to hit the demons, the Scarlet Order flunkies ended up hitting each other on multiple occasions. Injured people fell left and right. Some were simply wounded, while others were dead. Witches, werewolves, and the like fought against two demons and failed miserably at it. Upon seeing this, the leaders of the order conversed with each other.

"RETREAT!" barked Hobbs, commanding the werewolves from on high.

"Everyone fall back and regroup!" said Wink. "We'll handle this."

Preston stood tall, looking down at the deck. His arms were crossed, and his fingernails bore into his flesh through the sleeves of his hoodie. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his brow furrowed. Gritting his teeth, he looked upon the display with growing anxiety. He was so close. Preston was so close to escaping, but needed his former friends to tell him what the council was planning.

"Get down there!" he ordered his subordinates. "Take them down!"

"Yes, sir!" chanted the others, leaping over the rail and being followed by the man of the hour himself.

The trio stared at the duo, and the duo stared back. Both parties locked eyes and watched each other's movements carefully. Then, the Order shifted. Hobbs grit his teeth and flexed, tearing the already-giving-away labcoat as he took on a form more fit for battle. The doctor looked like a werewolf as he changed appearances, but he differed as though he were some sort of new sub-species. His face was flat and furless like a human's, and he had the nose or a dog. His body was hunched as he tried to balance on his more dog-like legs, and his forearms were both long enough to brush against the ground and extremely brawny. As for Wink, the woman held up her hand, showing the glowing stone that flashed light blue.

"Split them up." Preston growled through grit teeth, clenching his fists. To this, his accomplices nodded.

"Beati paupers spiritu!" shouted Wink, cocking her arm back and expelling a light from her fingertips and aiming right between the duo, and yet the duo didn't move. The beam struck the demons, seemingly freezing them. A wall of ice formed between the two groups, causing the Order to smirk.

"HA!" barked Doctor Hobbs. "That's what you were worried about, Omid?" he asked, looking over to Preston, only for his smile to fall at the look of fear on the other man's face.

"You didn't get them." He said. "They didn't even try to move… You didn't get them…"

"What do you—"

Suddenly, the sound of crashing was heard as the shattering of ice rang out. Out of the debris came two figures, blasting toward the trio at top speed, or rather, toward the woman who fired at them. All Wink could utter was a guttural grunt as she was yanked along by the demons, steam escaping their mouths and a ridiculous amount of heat radiating from their bodies. They leapt up to the bridge and took off their ties. One of them hogtied the poor girl with her hands and feet tied behind her back, while the other gagged her with his own tie.

"Ooh~! A souvenir!" chimed the menace, slipping the witch's ring from her finger. Wink thrashed and tried to shout while the man slipped it in his pocket, but was restrained.

"Wink!" yelled Hobbs, poising himself to go get her.

"Wait, you idiot!" Preston butted in, the fabric of his own clothes tearing as black shards protruded from his skin. Hobbs ducked down as Preston's armour formed a shield to protect them from the hail of bullets that the duo fired at them.

"Looks like close combat is our best bet." Said the bluenette as his arm continued to pull the trigger. "What do you want to do?"

"We could both take one of them on each." Alois suggested. "They seem pretty easy."

"Do you want me to take Preston?" Ciel asked, reloading his pistol while his beau continued to fire. It took a few moments for the blonde to answer, but as he didn't have much time, he nodded.

"Go ahead." He said with just a twinge of sadness in his voice.

"I'll break the shield. Then you strike and separate them." The Phantomhive said, drowning out their opponent's ability to hear their plan with the sound of gunfire.

"Roger that."

With one last bullet, Ciel jumped over the rail and down to the deck. Cocking his arm back, he curled his fingers into a fist before hurling it forward and down onto the Omid's shield. The force of the impact caused the barrier to shatter. Preston choked and clutched his arm in pain, but right as the debris clattered to the ground, the blonde menace appeared right before the pair.

"Sayonara, pug-face!" He said, aiming his gun for the pseudo-lycanthrope's head. However, before he could pull the trigger, he felt the air being forced from his lungs.

"Guah!" he let out as he went flying backwards. Hobbs chased afterward, cocking his arm back again and slamming his fist down again right over the blonde's face. The menace winced at the blow, and his eyes widened as fingers wrapped around his throat.

"What did you say, you little shit?" growled the beast that stood over him. "You better show some respect, brat! I'm the genius who invented an entirely new species of werewolf!" Gripping Alois' throat tighter, he forced the boy to gasp. "What's that? Got something to say?!"

All of a sudden, the blonde stopped struggling and smirked. With a laugh, he pursed his lips together and spat clear into the doctor's eye. "Kiss my ass." He wheezed, only to be picked up and slammed back into the ground.

"You BRAT!" Hobbs roared, taking one of his hands away to wipe at his eye, mistakenly giving the menace an opening. Aiming his gun, Alois fired, hitting the other man's pointed ear. While Hobbs screamed and clutched his injury, the menace weaseled away and stood up, signaling to the bluenette that he was alright. With that knowledge, Ciel simply nodded and carried on with his own fight.

Preston's arms were covered in black armour as he hurled on punch after another at the bluenette. Each time he missed, the man grew more and more frustrated, flaring his nostrils in a terrible snarl. His eyes were aflame, yet leaked water as he roared, trying to land a hit on the Phantomhive.

"Is this all you can do?" questioned Ciel, dodging another one of the Omid's blows. "I expected better of you."

"Shut up!" shouted Preston. "Just shut up!" He nearly lost his footing upon missing the former Earl again, leaving room for the Phantomhive to kick him in the stomach. He didn't kick him hard, but it was hard enough to cause the man to stumble back.

"Can't even think of a clever retort? What's the fun in that?" the Phantomhive questioned.

"Shut the fuck up! I'm not having fun!" snapped his former friend.

"Then why are you doing this, Preston?" Ciel asked. "What do you have to gain?"

"It doesn't matter!" shouted the man in maroon, violently swinging his arms with such ferocity that he could be mistaken for a wild beast. Yet while attacking the Phantomhive, he could only be likened to a child.

"Do you want revenge?" the demon asked.

"Just die!"

"Preston."

"Shut up!"

"Preston."

"SHUT UP!"

"Do you hate me?"

That question all on its own caused Preston to bawl. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he faced the demon. The man's swings held greater power before, but as they became more increasingly erratic, they didn't even come close to hitting the Watchdog. He couldn't even see the expression on his friend's face as he attacked, as he was blinded by his tears and fury. Had he been able to see, and had he wanted to, however, he would be able to recognise the solemn expression that the Phantomhive wore.

This fury was familiar. This anger was recognizable. This sadness was well known to Ciel. Deep wounds have been etched into both Preston's body and mind, twisting him into this vengeful and sorrowful creature before the Phantomhive. Ciel did not fight him. He merely evaded, stepping back from each swipe.

"Die!" bellowed the Omid, cocking his arm back and aiming his fist directly for the bluenette's head. He wasn't going to listen willingly, so Ciel decided to make him, forcing him still by capturing his fist. It took hardly little effort on his part in order to keep the man's hand stationary, despite Preston's efforts of freeing himself.

"Let go!" he yelled. "I'll kill you!"

"How? Your arm belongs to me, now." Ciel replied, his tone as cool as ice. "I'm not giving it back until you're finished with your tantrum."

The man did not waver, however, and instead stared his opponent straight in the eye with a growl. Cocking back his other arm, he hurled that one at the Phantomhive as well, only for it to meet a similar fate. With a sigh, Ciel shook his head.

"Are you quite finis—"

BAM!

Just then, he was struck square in the jaw. But How? He had both of Preston's hands firmly in his grasp! Once Ciel's mind caught up with him, he opened his eye in order to observe the additional arm that had sprung from Preston's back. It was constructed from black annis armour and had all five fingers curled into a fist as the piece extended from above the Omid's shoulderblade. While the Phantomhive was gawking at this, another blow was landed on his stomach from below, originating from the opposite side. Then another from above, and then another from the other side, and then two from below. This kept up until Ciel was forced to let go of Preston's true arms, yet it wasn't the end.

Again and again, the Omid struck his former friend, sometimes cocking back all six arms and hitting him at once, but other times, he struck him at random. Blood dripped from the bluenette's nose as he stumbled backward, trying to wrap his head around this barrage, but as more time went on, he, too, became angry.

"Enough!" Ciel boomed, leaping back in order to create some distance. His wounds healed within a matter of seconds, sealing themselves shut and removing inflicted blemishes as steam hissed from his wounds.

"You want to do this the hard way?! Come on! I'll show you a real fist fight!"