Aftermath:

The bottle street boss

"I'm serious, boss, this was a bad idea." Slackjaw sighed and turned to another one of his lackeys. "I sent you on recon, Jimmy. So report."

"It's all gone to sh-"

"A more specific report, dumbass."

"Right. The Golden cat has all gone to-"

"Jimmy do you want your elixir rations or not?"
"Alright, fine. Half the watchmen in the area are running over there, the sewers are overflowing within half a mile of the place, and two guards are saying they saw two kids zipping about the place. I mean, zipping. Are you sure we should be associating with that… witch?"

The door slammed open. "Boss! We got one of them! He, like, came on his own!" Custis Pendleton skittered into the room, eyes wide and nervous as he stuttered "I have to stay here. She told me to come with the gang members. Can you keep me away from her? Please?"

Slackjaw wryly glanced at Jimmy. "Would you rather we don't work with her?"

There was a skittering sound from the roof, then a crash, as Morgan Pendleton was dropped into the room, the groan indicating he was alive. Beside him, a figure in a white dress flashed to the floor for a split second with a girl in its arms. It turned to Slackjaw, nodded its head, and vanished upwards, dropping the confused looking girl behind.

"Rosie…" Slackjaw stammered, running forwards to embrace his daughter. Neither of them noticed the rest of the gang (and the other Pendleton) stare at Morgan's burned and peeling face.

The street urchin

Emily landed on the balcony with a thump, yelling "Granny! What did you do?" She set Thomas down on the floor, working on removing the bandages from his stomach, despite his mumbled protests. "No, don't- oh great." Thomas sighed as Emily looked down at his chest. There was a massive bruise coloured scar along him, dark pus oozing around it. She wasn't a doctor, but she was quite sure a knee to the stomach shouldn't do that. She looked around for replacement bandages, but Thomas waved her off, drawing a blue vial of Pierro's remedy from a pocket and swigging from it. The corruption about his wound receded, drawing back into him…mostly.

"Thomas, I…" Emily didn't know what to say, until she heard a cackling from the corner of the room, and spun on its source. "YOU! What did I say! I said don't cook his bones or anything! OR ANYTHING! What did you do to him?"

"Why, I made the little one useful to you, Dearie! He can do far more for you now…" Granny fell into another fit of giggles.

Emily turned back to Thomas, who grimaced. "I don't know what that old bat did to me, but I can…well…see, like you can see, and go fast along walls and things. I'm generally stronger and fitter too. Problem is, you have your own magicky stamina for it. Me, it takes it from, well, here." He gestured to his chest. "I can get it back with the elixirs, but if I use it too much at once, it's…"

"Irretreivable." Emily muttered quietly.

Thomas chuckled. "You and your fancy words. Plus I'm pretty sure I have the rat plague now."

Emily rounded on Granny again. "How. Do I. Fix him."

"Oh his corruption will go when the plague does dearie, if that ever ends. Until then, you have a minion who can follow you through the void."

Emily turned away, grabbed Thomas by the shoulder and hefted him up. "He's not my minion." She growled. "He's my friend." A moment later, she was gone.

The Dishonoured protector

Corvo slipped forwards and wrapped his arms around one of the workers, silently choking him out. The room clear, he gestured, and Daud blinked through, eyes glowing as he moved towards the valve. "Go to the entrance." Daud commanded in his gravelly voice. "Wait there." And Corvo obeyed. It was perhaps the strangest dynamic he had ever known: Him working for Daud despite a determination to kill him at some point. He didn't know why they were at the Rothwild slaughterhouse, sabotaging it, but the amount of charms Daud had a knack for finding, if anything, convinced him that they were on the right track. Meaning, the track to Emily. He clambered onto a large whale oil vat in front of the slaughterhouse, hearing the thudding and creaking sounds coming from within. He knew Daud would now be moving to the valves closer to the door, with plenty of time to-

There was a crashing sound from within as various pipes heading into the slaughterhouse burst. Beneath the whaler mask, Corvo's eyes widened as the sounds of roughly everything blowing within the complex. Almost as though, for example, a pressure burst in a nearby brothel had caused the water system in the slaughterhouse (dealing with an incredibly flammable substance) to fail. Leaping from his perch, Corvo sprinted through the doorway, looking around the entrance room. Cracks were appearing in the infrastructure, but, beneath the squealing and booming, he could hear the subtle sound of someone using a traversal power, and fast. He listened as a fourth, fifth, and sixth blink was used, then a short break before they resumed. Daud had only brought a few phials of remedy with him on this job, not expecting this level of mana use, and there was no knowing how many times he'd blinked before Corvo had started counting-

He saw Daud sprint round the corner, panting, face set in a grim expression, and was about to run to help, until a small chunk of masonry fell from the ceiling and cracked against the assassin boss' head, knocking him out cold. The roof was failing, about to fall, Corvo might not have time to save him, but if he just left, walked away, he'd be free to search for Emily on his own…

But the Whalers would be looking for him, and there was no gurantee he could find Emily without the man's help…

Growling, Corvo sprinted forwards, and inside him something clicked, as though the link between him and Daud now broke something down and allowed… Corvo flexed his fingers, mimicking the gestures he'd seen performed countless times, and the world blurred around him as he teleported to beside Daud's side, hoisted the man over his shoulder and teleported again, bringing him out the door just as the roof came down and buried the place in rubble.

The lord regent.

Inwardly, Madame Prudence growled as Hiram Burrows clenched his fists in front of her and yelled "What do you mean they're Gone?"

The Loyalists

Admiral Havelock sat at his desk, downing a shot of whiskey and otherwise fretting about the absence of an assassin. It seems that after the disaster with Kaldwin, no-one really wanted to assassinate high end political figures at the moment. He sighed and rubbed his temples, closing his eyes-

And heard an ominous giggle from behind him. He spun round, but there was no-one there and the door was still closed. But there was a sheet of paper, wafting in the breeze of the open window. He snatched it out of the air and began to read the elegant script, his eyes widening every passing line.

Dear Admiral Havelock.

It has come to my attention that someone has blamed my witchery on an innocent little girl. How entertaining. Yet I happen to be rather fond of the young Kaldwin, so I've elected to help you help her. The Pendletons will be returned in a day (I should hope) but that ought to grant you ample time to promote your ally to High Overseer, and get the witch charges off the young girl. Maybe blame Daud, I'm rather poorly disposed towards the assassin. So until you need another little bit of espionage dealt with (and I'll know if you do) this is goodbye.

Sincerely, the Void Singer.

P.S: I've left one of my agents in care of the empress. Do be kind to him, would you?

The letter dropped from Havelock's hands. He gulped. And reached for his whisky again.

Bantah! One day late! Cos we get a long weekend! Oot! Oot! Whatever Mire told you, i legitimately am sorry i'm not updating ADMT, but it will come! I promise! The moment i get off my lasy arse. See y'all!