Chapter 2

Evasion and Pursuit

xXx

oOoOoOoOo Talbot Frost oOoOoOoOo

*Drip* *Drip*

Talbot stirred slightly, groaning as he tried to sit up straight from his position on the ground. Everything was hurting for some reason, joints throbbing and his eyes feeling like they were sealed shut. What the Hell happened?

*Drip* *Drip*

'What's that noise', he thought, trying to clear the swimming sensation in his head and get up. He brought the knee of his right leg forward, left foot driving him up into a standing position. He wavered slightly at full height, trying to keep himself straight.

*Drip* *Drip*

Talbot grimaced slightly, trying to open his eyes. His lids felt so heavy for some reason and refused to budge. After several attempts he brought up a hand to rub at his eyes, hoping to bring back some bit of motion and feeling to them. His next attempt to open his eyes was more successful, and he was finally able to see again.

It was….a room. A room with wooden walls and a single window he could see, held above a simple bed. He spied what looked like a closet near the corner opposite of it, the door closed.

It seemed….strangely familiar to him somehow. He could almost swear he had been here before.

"What's going on," he muttered, his tongue feeling strangely dry.

"You tell me."

He froze the moment he heard the voice, an unearthly chill racing up and down his spine, lungs seeming to freeze in his chest. That voice…..his voice. How? Why?

Swallowing air down his dry throat, he slowly turned around. There was a table with a chair beside it, both made of wood, a man seated in the chair and glaring at him with narrowed eyes. A man he knew all too well.

He was tall, slightly taller than Talbot at 6'3 and with visible muscle tone, skin covered in an intricate combination of tattoos intermingling with scars big and small. Oily black hair grown out, the back falling down to the base of his neck and the front bangs ghosting over his eyes.

Irving "Hunter" Frost. His father.

Everything seemed less real the moment his eyes fell on the man, his head swimming and thoughts racing. Was it hate, fear, anger, or maybe all of the above? It all blended together to the point where Talbot couldn't even tall.

He wanted to do something. To say something, to scream and howl and shout at the…..the monster seated in front of him. To curse the man, to beg him to leave him alone, to even scream while pulling out his weapon to murder him. But all he could say, the only thing that escaped, was a scared and pitiful stutter of, "D-dad?"

*Drip* *Drip*

Irving smiled at him, a cruel and wicked thing that wouldn't be out of place on a shark that just smelled fresh blood. He rose from the seat and stood at his full height, and he suddenly seemed even TALLER than Talbot remembered. Or was the room just suddenly smaller?

Irving chuckled mirthlessly. "What's the matter, son? You almost look like you've seen a ghost."

Talbot froze again, something in those words shocking him into stillness. Ghost? Why was that word striking him somehow?

He didn't have long to think of it anyway, because the moment the thought flashed through his mind was the moment his father started to move. He took a step forward, every movement seeming to be in slow motion. Then his foot hit the floor and Talbot could swear he felt the ground shake slightly.

He took a reflexive step back.

Irving's smile grew wider, white teeth showing in the light of the room. "Aw, what's wrong, you getting' scared?"

He took another step forward. Then another. Another. The ground seeming to shake slightly with every step taken.

Talbot could only move back in turn, panicking.

*Drip* *Drip*

He grimaced, hands rushing to his head in response to a splitting headache. DAMMIT, he knew there was something wrong here, but WHAT? WHAT?

*Drip* *Drip*

His grimace deepened. "What the hell is that sound!?"

The room shook one more time and his eyes opened wide, staring up at his father before him. He…didn't even look Human now. Tall, freakishly tall, head bent forward to avoid scraping the ceiling as he looked down at him, eyes glowing blue with no visible whites. His limbs were long, skin pale and matted with scars with what seemed like festering scabs.

"LOOK BEHIND YOU."

Ignoring every instinct screaming in his head not to listen, to not let this monster leave his immediate sight….he did so. He turned and realized that, in his haste to keep away, he backed right up to the closet door.

"OPEN IT."

He….he couldn't stop himself. Like a man caught in hypnosis he reached out, hand shaking at he grasped the doorknob. It turned and the door cracked open.

Somehow, he knew he didn't want to see what was on the other side. That opening the door meant there would be no going back. That it would be diving into a nightmare. His hand froze again.

There was a sound behind him, a horrifying combination of a hiss and growl of displeasure, then a hand came down to rest on his own. The fingers were so long, so many joints that let those digits seem to wrap around his hand completely, skin dirty and chapped and somehow both cold and hot to the touch.

The door was forced open, the hand over his own forcing it so.

He saw her body. And now he knew where the sound was coming from.

*DRIP* *DRIP* *DRIP* *DRIP*

He gagged, feeling the bile rise up from the back of his throat. There was a dark and menacing chuckle behind him.

"Do YougEt it noW?"

Hands grabbed his shoulders and forced him to turn around, staring the monster in the face. Long, sharp teeth lining a smile in a mouth stretched far too wide, eyes slitted and menacing, every inch of skin matted with ugly, rotting scars oozing pus and faint trickles of red blood.

"THERE'S NOTHING YOU HAVE THAT I CAN'T TAKEAWAY!"

The monster pushed him into the closet, his back thumping against the body as warm blood splashed against the back of his neck. Laughing, the monster closed the door in front of him.

The last thing he heard was his own scream.

Talbot awoke in a cold sweat with a gasp, breathing in great gulps of air and releasing them just as quick. He looked around himself, trying to calm down and stop the tremors.

He was in a room, sitting up in a bed. Not like the room from the dream, the walls were still wood but of a darker color, polished and shining slightly. There were some paintings on the walls, small ones showing calming, meaningless things like nature portraits or vases with flowers. Relaxing.

There was just the slightest rumble beneath him, gently pulling him fully into the waking world as it all sank in. Now he remembered. He was on a train, heading further into the Kingdom and the capital of Vacuo. The Dune Express. He'd had money to spare so he splurged a little to get first class.

His hand came up to his neck, groping and feeling for the chain and tracing along it to the pendant that dangled from it. The pendant he took from….

"He's dead now," he whispered, voice hoarse. "He's dead and gone now. It's over."

The tremors finally stopped and he was able to relax somewhat. Not entirely, he wasn't really sure he ever could, but it was enough.

Sighing, he looked to the coffee table beside him. Not much on it besides a newspaper and an empty porcelain cup that was long since empty of any coffee. He didn't think he'd missed dinner, he was pretty sure he'd have woken up before that, but…..

He turned to the window, view blocked by the closed shutters and noticed the light trying to penetrate the barrier. Yeah, if it was bright out then he'd woken up before dinner.

He tossed aside the sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed, bringing his feet to the floor and standing up. The room wasn't a large one, not by any definition, but it was roomy enough that he didn't need to worry about stumbling into anything as he walked around to the sofa on the other side of the coffee table. Kneeling down, he opened one of the compartments beneath that were holding some of his luggage.

Pulling out what he was looking for, his fingers immediately went to the zipper. He opened it and reached in, touching what felt like a sheath of leather and he felt more secure. His weapon. Eisenwald.

He thought he didn't need it to sleep anymore, but it looked like that nightmare might be proving him wrong. Of course, it could just be because of yesterday.

…..Sigh. Damn, now he was having trouble not thinking about it.

He pulled his hand from the bag and brought it back to the pendant hanging from his neck. Fingers traced along the chain to the mass of metal hanging down, gently following along it until he pulled it off and over his head, bringing it up so he could see it.

The pendant itself was pure silver, a wolf's head being shaped from it at the front with the mouth slightly open and teeth bared. It suited his old man perfectly.

He wasn't even entirely sure why he decided to wear it. Maybe it was a joke at Irving's expense, some show that he had surpassed him as an alpha predator? He honestly didn't know.

Sighing, he just stuffed the damn thing into the bag and pushed the thought from his mind. Talbot wasn't really sure what the Hell he was even gonna do with it once he was done here, but all odds indicated he'd probably just throw it away and do his damn best to forget everything he associated it with.

Not bothering to put his bag away again, Talbot just got onto the sofa and did his best to relax. He was pretty sure the brief nap and nasty wake-up would keep him from falling asleep again. He'd just wait until dinner, get something to eat, try to fall asleep (holding his weapon this time to be sure) and wake up in the city of Vacuo. Then he'd finish his damned business there and leave everything involving his father behind him.

He'd finally be free.

oOoOoOoOo Hazel Rainart oOoOoOoOo

Hazel grunted in irritation, leaning back silently against a warehouse wall in Vacuo. He'd already investigated the sight of the apparent battle for any clues, though there were precious few among the burned warehouses and molten concrete. Whatever the Hell had happened was enough to force Irving to really cut loose.

'Not for very long though,' he thought. 'Whatever happened here was quick. And if Irving was forced to escalate the fight that quickly rather than take his time….then we're dealing with someone very dangerous.'

"So sorry for the wait Hazel," came a familiar voice from beside him. The large man turned his head to see the stoic face of Arthur Watts, another of Salem's inner circle.

"You're late."

"Attending to some last minute work of my own," he answered with an oily smoothness. "Lady Salem had assigned me something else to take care of and I thought it best to get done with it quickly."

Hazel stared at the man for a moment, not particularly liking that Salem didn't see fit to inform him of such a matter, but he brushed it off. "Fine then. And now that it's settled, perhaps we can move on to our more mutual assignment?"

Watts nodded, flashing him the smallest bit of teeth from a smile behind his thick moustache. "Indeed. So, am I correct in assuming you've thoroughly checked over the area?"

"It wasn't exactly hard," Hazel retorted, gesturing with his hand over to a warehouse with a wall completely blown outwards. "I've seen Irving's Semblance in action before and all the evidence points towards it," Hazel started walking, Watts following along behind him as he gestured to the signs." Spots of concrete that were obviously molten in the fight, gratuitous burn marks everywhere, the works. From what I could tell it was started by an explosion in another warehouse on the other side of this spot of the docks."

"Yes, I checked it out with a look through their storage records. Apparently that one was filled with quite a bit of Dust on the night of this little debacle. But the fight is secondary to our bigger question; where is the culprit?"

Hazel sighed, bringing up a hand to massage his forehead in exasperation. He'd worked with Watts long enough to know where he was leading the conversation to. "I don't know," he admitted. "There were no witnesses to the conflict, at least none left alive. Considering the possibility of a personal airship, even assuming he's still in Vacuo may be incorrect."

Watts' response was about what he'd expected; a smug smile and explanation. "Well then, it's a good thing you weren't sent here to simply investigate, isn't it?" The former Atlasian researcher took the lead this time, Hazel following him along to some other section of the docks. "I took the liberty of digging through the passenger listings for the local means of transport to and from here. It was tedious work, but I spotted a familiar name; Trent Morgan. I assume you recognize it?"

Trent Morgan? Actually, now that Watts mentioned it the name did seem familiar somehow. But…ah! "One of his aliases," he responded. "I remember him using it while contacting us once. But what does that have to do with what happened here?"

"Because that name was also on the passenger registry for the people LEAVING two days ago."

Hazel's right brow rose at that little bit of information. That was rather interesting. Granted, the possibility of someone having that as an actual name wasn't impossible, but Watts was implying Irving's alias was the only example of that name on the registry. And if it was going out even after his death…..

"Put it together have you?" Watts inquired, his tone resembling that of a parent imparting some lesson to a child. "Yes, the killer of our occasional….compatriot, used that same alias to leave. Odd that he would use the name of the man he'd killed, but I do believe we've both seen stranger. And that train was scheduled to go straight to the city of Vacuo."

Right to Vacuo? 'That could be problematic,' Hazel thought. The namesake capital of the Kingdom might not be the most populous or densely occupied of the Four Kingdoms, but that was still a very large crowd to throw off a trail. Not to mention Vacuo's underground was by far the most comprehensive in the world, surpassing even the seedy underbelly of Mistral by a wide margin, meaning there were plenty of ways for someone to disappear.

And Hazel was willing to bet this person they were chasing was well acquainted with that very underground. "Am I correct in assuming you've also made use of your time to find us a means of reaching Vacuo as quickly as possible?"

The lean man before him let loose a short bark of laughter. "But of course! Time is a valuable resource, my dear Hazel, and I do so loathe to waste it."

Hazel was pretty sure he heard Watts mutter something about Salem hating it even more, but he didn't bother bringing it up. They had a job to do, and neither of them were willing to disappoint on it.

Besides that, Hazel just wanted to finish this job up so he and Watts could both go their separate ways on their own work. The man was capable and held himself to a high standard, something Hazel could respect, but his attitude left much to be desired. The disgraced scientist seemed to be possessed of an almost constant air of arrogance, only dropped when he was either deeply intimidated or unsettled in some way. Or when in the presence of Salem herself.

On the other hand, at least he wasn't Tyrian.

oOoOoOoOo Talbot Frost oOoOoOoOo

The train shrieked on the tracks as it was brought to a stop in the station, the vibrations of the steel slowly waning down as the locomotive was brought to a steady halt. People were visible from the windows, all of them waiting to board outside when the doors opened.

Talbot rose from the seat in his quarters, retrieving his luggage and quickly putting Eisenwald in an easily reached position, checking himself over in the mirror one last time.

…His right eye twitched slightly. The collar on his jacket was slightly off, and his shirt beneath not entirely tucked in. A momentary fix took care of both and everything was back in order. Good.

Picking up his bag, Talbot left the room and headed to the exit door nearest to his position to leave the train, the rays of the Vacuo sun shining down to greet him amidst all the noises you'd expect in a bustling train station. People boarding and disembarking, shouts and shoving with the typical Vacuo vigor and volume, every whistle in the air and rumble on through the ground for trains moving or still.

He made his way quickly, forcing his way through the thick crowds with some generous shoving to make his way. There were a more than a few complaints and muttered curses, but it was so drowned out that he wasn't sure even the speakers could hear themselves.

It wasn't long before he left the bulk of the crowds behind, the noises just starting to trail behind him and –

He froze, a hand going to Eisenwald and ready to pull it out in a blink as he looked around. People wandering in the area outside the train station, the occasional vehicle coming by for parking or driving out. Perfectly normal.

But something had still set him off, that little alarm in the back of his head that daddy dearest had spent years beating into him with constant surprise attacks or sudden training sessions. You don't last long in that without picking up a bit of a sixth sense for danger, and he'd developed a whole list of good reasons for listening to it.

He ignored the nervous stares of the people who passed him by and tried to keep their distance, staying still and ready for whatever had set him off. He was fast, he had a weapon ready, and he knew exacyl how to use it.

The bizarre stalemate seemed to go on for a good half minute before the feeling faded and Talbot relaxed, the warning in the back of his mind returning to peaceful silence. It wasn't quite enough to take his hand away from his weapon, not yet, but it was enough to start moving again.

With the threat passed, he went along his way. It'd been a good few months since he'd been back home in the capital, and he was looking forward to having something good to eat after getting a certain task done.

oOoOoOoOo Emerald Sustrai oOoOoOoOo

'What the Hell just happened?'

It was that one thought passing through Emerald's mind as she stood there, trying to keep herself from shaking.

He knew. She was sure of it, that guy somehow knew or at least sensed when she was using her Semblance on him. How was that even possible? Nobody else, not even Hunters were able to tell her hallucinations apart from the real thing.

But that wasn't the biggest reason for her standing still in her spot by the alley, sweating and trying to keep the tremble from travelling up her hands. It was more than that.

Emerald was well acquainted with life in the seedy backstreets of Vacuo, the oft-reputed 'Kingdom of Gangsters and Thieves' on Remnant. There was trouble here, dangers and people that she'd had to navigate and survive for her whole life, and she was proud to say she'd gotten pretty good at it. Due in no small part to her Semblance. But a Semblance could only take someone so far before biting off more than you could chew.

And, by some twisted joke, she'd nearly tried to steal from one of those things that counted as more than she could handle. It wasn't just that he'd sensed her Semblance, not even that he'd reached for a weapon, it was more than that. It was her gut instinct, the voice that lay deep beneath all logic and reason that screamed in your head when it wanted to be known.

And it was telling her that if she got anywhere close to that guy when he was still, if she tried to pick his pockets like she'd done on so many people before, than she was going to die. No question, not uncertainty, just a singular absolute.

That had never happened before.

It wasn't until he'd made a turn on the street and left her vision that she relaxed enough to let out a sigh, only then realizing that she'd actually been holding her breath the whole time.

It was also the moment her body decided to remind her of how hungry she was, stomach rumbling that familiar sound to her and bringing a grimace to Emerald's face. "Really, now you're acting up?"

With the thoughts of her near death experience now pushed to the back of her mind, Emerald stalked off in search of easier prey.

Ahmar hadn't given her any work recently, meaning she'd had no real opportunities to get money for food. It was the biggest reason she'd came down here in search of some easy pickings, and boy did that not go the way she'd hoped. So, with her passion for picking the pockets of those more fortunate having worn off, she decided to head for slightly safer pastures.

Doing her best to ignore the scents of cooking meats and the visions of fruits in the various stalls as she made her way, Emerald headed deeper into the market district. Specifically for the ones with shops in actual buildings that catered to the needs of the more moderately wealthy.

A bit of jewelry was always a good find for her, a nice bit of profit managing to work its way into her pockets even after all of Ahmar's deductions off of the value. Fencing costs he called it, fucking robbery she called it. But of course she'd never say that to his face.

The bustling little area she'd found was quite popular among the middle to upper-middle class of Vacuo, old shops having been bought and family owned for at least a generation lent them a bit of a traditional and personal feel that people just ate right up. More importantly, there was also a number of alleys that she could escape down in case she was caught.

Of course, perhaps the biggest reason was that people like her simply weren't allowed in the areas with shops that catered to the upper-class kind of customer. There would be security stationed outside to discourage people below a certain quality from entering, even violently if the person refused to get the message.

Seriously, as much as Emerald lover her Semblance it had some pretty big flaws. She could only use it on one person at a time, maybe two if she really pushed it. That meant she could probably get in, but she wouldn't be able to stay in for long until someone called the security. Still, she'd take what she could get.

So Emerald put to use the most important skill in the arsenal of any good thief; she watched and waited for just the right moment.

As her stomach grumbled again, Emerald really hoped she wouldn't need to do it for too long.

oOoOoOoOo Talbot Frost oOoOoOoOo

Talbot ignored the brief groan of his stomach, setting aside the bit of hunger for later. As nice as some good curry sounded at the moment he still had something more important to do.

Legs carrying him on memory and instinct as much as the direction of his mind, it wasn't long until he reached the area he'd came for; a block in the downtown residential area, far enough away to attention from law enforcement or the nosy and idealistic while still close enough for easy access to the heart of the city.

Most of the buildings here were pretty run down, various states of disrepair or decay visible. Most of the windows were so thoroughly broken that throwing a rock at a random building had little chance of even breaking one anymore, the doors loose or poorly held and pavement or concrete and brick steps visibly cracked. It was, for all intents and purposes, a complete wreck.

Talbot entered in through the front door of one of the buildings, not bothering to even knock before kicking the door right down and off of its hinges. He smiled slightly. "I'd always wanted to do that."

Walking in, he was greeted by the familiar and musty air buffeting down on him. He used to cough because of it whenever his dad brought him here, but he'd gotten used to it quickly enough.

The furniture and other features he'd passed by were in about as bad a state as the outside, all decaying and in need of either serious repair or outright replacement by something better. The chairs were so fragile that they could probably fail to even hold a cat, the couch cushions had numerous tears, there were holes spread seemingly at random on the walls, the stairs leading up had effectively collapsed. All in all, only the most poor and desperate would live here.

But it wasn't the main floor Talbot had come here for, closing in on the door to the basement. He opened it normally this time, the creaking of aged wood and poorly maintained hinges providing contrast to the otherwise quiet house. He walked down, not bothering with the broken light-switch.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly enough, allowing him to easily reach the bottom and walk around to underneath the stairs. From there he let his hand move more by memory than vision and found a hidden switch in a specially concealed alcove. There was a brief click behind the wall and he pushed his hand forward, swinging the wall to the side to reveal a hidden room.

Old Irving had always called this place a steal, and, as much as he disliked agreeing with the man, Talbot couldn't really argue. From what they could tell, the place was bought by some wealthy criminal a while back who wanted a nice safehouse to stay in whenever things started heating up. So he quietly arranged for the money to trade hands and then arranged for the extra construction through a company with known criminal affiliates to do it under the table. Talbot could barely imagine the planning that went into making it all work. Too bad the guy died from a car crash after a bit too much drinking before he could ever even use it.

Still, that just meant it was put back on the market for people of a certain strata of society. And Irving had been really quick to snatch it right up, seeing an opportunity for a big deal. Oh, there had been a few people who had a bit more money to throw around, but…..well, nobody could say Irving wasn't persuasive when he wanted to be. Hard to say no when staring down the edge of an axe bigger than some people. Particularly when it was covered in a shimmering aura of pure heat and flames.

The room itself was comfortable enough, though sparsely furnished. The walls were red brick and the room itself large enough to count as a small apartment for two; a couch in the middle of the room along with a large and well-cushioned chair beside it, a coffee table in front and a TV on a display on the other side. There was also a small but well stocked kitchen further in, with a microwave and a large oven with some burners on top, a fridge on the other side of them and some cupboards for dishes. Off to the right of the couch and chair was a hallway that led to a single bathroom and a bedroom.

Closing the door behind him, Talbot headed down the hallway to his dad's room. A quick bit of picking the lock and he opened the door, seeing the inside of the room for perhaps the first time in his life.

It was….surprisingly underwhelming. There was a bed, a desk beside it, a couple of crates in the corner that he guessed held spare parts for Mercy, a closet built into the wall, pretty normal overall.

Except for the tall steel safe on the other side of the bed, stuck in the corner.

Talbot approached it, smiling. Now that the old man was dead he could just take everything he stored away as a cherry on top. He'd bet the bastard was probably screaming in frustration in the afterlife and trying to claw his way back to the world of the living about now. Hell, he kinda hoped he was.

Kneeling down to the lock on the safe, he fished through his bag until finding his dad's silver pendant. He'd carried it with him everywhere, and that one night when Talbot spied him in his room years ago revealed exactly why.

Carefully taking the pendant in hand, Talbot removed it from the chain and placed it in a small opening at the front of the safe, inserting it so the face was showing outward towards him. Then he fitted his fingers into the grip around the opening and turned it like a key, the pendant disappearing as a sequence of clicks and shifts within indicated the locks were coming undone.

Then, with a final metallic snap, the door came ever so slightly loose and was ready to be opened. "Jackpot."

Grabbing the edge of the safe door, Talbot swung it open and had to hold back from drooling at the sight.

There was so much lien in here! Each lien card was worth at least 100 of the currency each, all of it bundled neatly into stacks and held with rubber bands to keep them together. There was honestly more here than he could carry even if he stuffed his whole bag full of it after emptying out everything else. There was so much that he'd need to make at least two more trips, enough that somebody could probably retire in luxury for the rest of their life.

'So…..what am I gonna do with it?'

The question brought a slight frown to his face. Truth be told he hadn't entirely thought that far, part of him had even just come here to take this as one last act of spite against the old man, plundering his life savings as a huge middle finger that would substitute for dancing on his grave. But what was he gonna do with it?

He briefly entertained the thought of retiring early, but he rejected the thought quickly. He wasn't interested in going off somewhere quiet and sitting around while getting fat and weak in the lap of luxury. He'd trained, been raised his whole life with the skills that'd been beaten into him, and the thought of leaving it all behind just seemed wrong somehow. It was pretty much all he knew.

…..No, he'd think about that later. It was over and he'd won, so this was his for the taking. Retirement might not suit him, but buying someplace a bit more upscale as a personal getaway sounded good, and there were so many upgrades he could get for Eisenwald with this money.

But for now? Well, just one of these cards could get him something real good to eat. And it wasn't like he was strapped for cash right now.

oOoOoOoOo Emerald Sustrai oOoOoOoOo

Against all the sounds of her slowly shrinking stomach urging her to hurry, Emerald approached slow and careful. Her target? A middle aged man who'd just bought a fancy looking bit of jewelry from one of her favorite haunts. A nice silver ring with a deep, red ruby.

She'd always kind of liked the red gemstones, even over her namesake stone. Maybe it was how they complimented her eyes, or maybe because she just really enjoyed the shine, but either way she liked them. It also helped that they tended to be quite valuable to pawn off, so there was that too.

And that one on the ring would be a very nice prize for today, even with the cut Ahmar would undoubtedly take.

But she couldn't get careless here, she had to be careful. Theft was handled very seriously here in Vacuo, if only via vigilante justice rather than actual law enforcement, and she had no interest in getting caught up in it. She'd heard more than enough horror stories of street rats suddenly disappearing after getting caught.

So she took it easy, just following the man along nice and casual until he took just the right turn for her to take advantage and snag him with her Semblance somewhere isolated. All while suppressing her growing hunger pangs.

Eventually it paid off, the man heading down an alleyway in one of the older neighborhoods with nobody else present. Perfect.

She struck once they were alone, having it look to him like somebody came in from the other corner and started asking for directions. The man appeared exasperated, but obliged and gave directions to the empty air before him.

And while he was busy Emerald struck, reaching right into his pocket for the ring. And, wouldn't luck have it, she also managed to snag his wallet. She thought of stealing his lien from him, but dropped it. Ahmar would probably take almost all of it anyway and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of it.

Still, she got what she came for. Just in time, considering someone was now walking down the alleyway from the other side, though she was pretty sure she'd pocketed the ring before they could see.

So she did her best to look casual and briskly walked along-

*GROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAN*

-before she felt the strongest hunger pang she'd endured in months. One that spoke of her feeding off of little but scraps for the past two weeks now and left her wrapping an arm around her gut.

But, perhaps most importantly, it was bad enough that it disrupted her control of her Semblance.

The man broke free immediately, blinking and briefly cursing in confusion as the person he was talking to seemed to disappear into thin air. Then he saw her, doing her best to quickly walk away without looking suspicious.

Thing is, the problem with not looking suspicious is that it's really hard when you know you're guilty of something. And it looked like her mark could see it too. He quickly checked his pockets to see if anything was missing, before freezing for a moment before turning to glare at her. "Hey, stop her!"

And so she ran. Fast. Legs pumping as fast as they could as she got into a full sprint, barely avoiding a collision with the guy who'd entered the alley. A strangely familiar guy.

She dismissed the thought, just grateful he didn't try to stop her. She thought she'd felt a very brief sensation in one of her pockets, but was too panicked to give it any mind.

Unfortunately it did little to help. A man screaming "Thief!" at the top of his lungs tended to draw attention, and soon she had a group of five people chasing her.

'Damnit, this is NOT what I had in mind for today!'

She kept running, trying to outrun her pursuers or lose them in the crowds. But these were tenacious bastards, and her rather distinctive combination of hair and skin coloring made it hard for her to blend in.

It didn't help that she didn't know this particular area of the backstreets very well, narrowly avoiding dead ends and dodging clogged alleyways during her swift retreat. Until eventually she ran out of luck and found herself in a dead end.

With nowhere to run, she turned to see her pursuers. They were all men, each of them bigger than her by at least 30 pounds and looking ready for a fight.

This really wasn't a good situation for her. If it was just one then her Semblance was all she'd need, but against five? There was no way she could spread it out that far?

She stepped back as they moved forward, some of them pulling out knives, and she mover her hands to her back to get them in position for her own weapons.

She almost pulled them out before one last man entered the alley from behind the others. Now alert and watching, she recognized him from before. It was the guy from the train station….and he was holding the ring she'd stolen in his hand, right in plain sight to her, with a smile on his face.

He mouthed "Play along", and slipped the ring into his pocket. "Is there something going on here everybody?"

xXx

WHEW! Dayum, I almost missed it this time, but I was able to put myself to my keyboard and write down this chapter for the anniversary of Monty's death. To be fair, I was planning on making this chapter longer, but I'm on a bit of a schedule with work right now and I kinda ran out of time. Doesn't help that Kingdom Hearts III came out and I just HAD to play it in more of my spare time.

Anyway, I'd like to apologize to all of my readers. I'm pretty sure not EVERY reader of my fics will get this, but I had to get my apologies for the long gaps between chapters. For those of you who don't know, I've bene going through a bit of a rough patch since last February. I had a work accident and ended up injuring my knee, so I was put off work. That might SOUND like a good thing, but trust me when I say it's very much not, it was incredibly stressful.

Y'see, my mom and I are essentially living hand to mouth from paycheck to paycheck, so even with workers comp and them handling the surgery costs (YES, I needed surgery), we were still pretty scared. It's hard to try and work on fanfiction when real life just keeps stressing you out. We got through it, but then I was in for another surprise when I got back to work. Namely, the company I work for changed their contract hours, so instead of 37.5 hours a week I'm working 24 hours a week! That's a LOT of money lost. I guess you could say we're still stable, but it's not an easy balance to keep, so it's been hard to focus on my writing recently. I'm trying to find another job to replace my current one, so hopefully it'll be solved soon enough.

Lastly, I understand that Zentari2238 dropped the word 'edgelord' in regards to the protagonist and…I can KINDA see why. I'll admit that he does certainly show signs, let me assure you I didn't design him solely to be some kind of edge character. If anything he would be a deconstruction of it. Problem with edge characters, at least in my own experience in reading about them, is that they tend to be poorly disguised author avatars that the writer tries to make look 'cool' or 'dark' or all that stuff, particularly without actually giving them a deeper degree of character beyond the surface. It doesn't help that they also tend to somehow have other characters fawn over how awesome they are in ways that are INCREDIBLY out of character so the writer can make it seem like THEY'RE the ones being complimented.

Essentially, I think the term 'edge' has just degraded over time to mean just another variety of Mary Sue that the writer makes the world bend over backwards for. But that doesn't mean that the root idea is necessarily a bad one if handled right? You wanna know an example? Gut's from Berserk. Seriously, take ONE look at him and say he isn't edgy. But he's so well written and fleshed out that he still comes across as a truly deep and meaningful character. The problem is that so many writers focus so much on the external part and pleasing their ego's that they don't bother doing any of the real work for making a character, and I think that's actually rather sad. To be fair, I'm not saying Talbot will be on par with Guts, I lie to consider myself a decent writer, but I doubt I'm THAT good. But that doesn't mean can't give it a shot, right?

Please review and have a nice day!