Disclaimer: AT&T now owns Cingular. That means no more phone commercials with that little orange "splat-looking" dude with the floaty head dancing around. That's terrible That would be like me buying out Yu-Gi-Oh, and then drowning Kuriboh because he's a symbol of the "old regime." Be glad that AT&T doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh. I, on the other hand, would only beat Kuriboh if I did.

Girl Troubles

"I'm just sayin' Seto, I think you'd like her if you met her," called Mokuba, leaning back in the desk chair, scanning the computer screen behind the front counter.

"Yes, Mokuba, and you were saying that all night long," grouched Seto, from his office down the hall, studying some of the latest reports from the Order.

The two brothers were so wiped out from assembling the office the day before, they decided to stay the night at their new workspace instead of calling a cab to take them to the penthouse. Seto's cars were still in storage, and he planned to leave them there, since the highest echelons of KaibaCorp would no doubt be alerted if any of Seto Kaiba's assets were accessed. Purchasing new vehicles he could handle - it was attempting to explain where he'd been for the last six months to the Board that he couldn't be bothered with.

He knew that getting away from KaibaCorp was the right thing to do, for himself and Mokuba. Living in the penthouse was the lone compromise that he was willing to make, and that was only so that he could monitor the management of his father's company. The Board loved their dangerous, smoke-filled games of cloak and dagger, but they wouldn't know how to handle an opponent who left them wondering if they were even fighting on their own turf. Besides, he had bigger problems to worry about.

Like Mokuba - ugh, not Mokuba. Mokuba's "friend." The friend that he'd practically been reciting epic poetry about all night.

"Some people you just know," "She carried herself with the grace of a dancer," "I've never met anyone with such a mysterious air," "Her eyes were like the sky after rainfall," "That smile of hers alone moved me," "I'd hope for danger just to see her face again," "Near, far, wherever you are, my heart will go on and on-"

Whatever.

Seto knew that Mokuba's adrenaline rush combined with the disorienting effect of sleeping in an unfamiliar area could be partly to blame for his strange fixation on his "rescuer." But if he became preoccupied to the point of making a habit of staying up half the night thinking about her, then something would have to be done.

The girl was trouble. It didn't matter how "heroic" she came off in Mokuba's eyes. Mokuba was young, naive, and entirely too trusting. Which made it Seto's duty as his older brother to screen potential undesirables that came flouncing into his younger brother's life. The girl not only knew Mokuba on a first name basis (something that Seto found offensive since she wouldn't reciprocate), but she also now knew he was a Kaiba.

Seto didn't believe for a second that she didn't know the name. The only way anyone could have missed that fiasco was if they were living in a cave (which, admittedly, was possible since Seto himself had done so during the "exodus" for a few days in the Goa Lawah in Bali during an investigation, while Mokuba stayed at the Besakin Temple - but that was another matter entirely.) The only reason she had to lie about not recognizing the Kaiba name was if she had an agenda.

Seto didn't like people with agendas. They tended to arrive in package deals with great big knifes poised to stab you in the back.

"Hey Seto!" Mokuba called from the main office. Seto abandoned his own pursuits and walked down the hall to where his brother was crouched over the computer behind the front desk. He looked fidgety, and when Mokuba turned around to see if he was coming, Seto caught a whiff of discomfort in his body language.

"What's wrong?" He asked after entering the office, leaning over his little brother's shoulder to peer at the monitor.

"Lookit this."

Mokuba was still so small, and sometimes Seto would catch himself fancying that he too was as small as he used to be, only a head or two taller than Mokuba. When he considered how that meant Mokuba would someday be able to regard him nose-to-nose whenever he wished, instead of at Seto's own discretion, it made him ache to imagine how much harder it would be then to hide the haunted look in his eyes. The only thing worse than being unjustly hero-worshipped by Mokuba as a child would the justifiable pity from Mokuba as a man.

"Stay small," he murmured privately.

"Huh?" Mokuba asked, looking up at him from the monitor.

"Dismal. Why are you still reading The Chronicle?" Seto was scowling at the screen, and half-heartedly speed-reading the text of the story that Mokuba believed was of interest.

God, how Seto loathed The Chronicle. Valentine ran the amateur Internet rag like she was managing the New York Times. Domino City might have seemed like a strange place to base a business powered by gossip, but it was close enough to LA for Valentine to stay in the Hollywood loop, and far enough away for her to pretend that she was somebody and get away with it. Some poor little rich girl who never got enough attention from mommy and daddy decides she wants to be a reporter, and suddenly she's exposing scandals of the rich and famous like she wasn't babysat by the perpetrators as a child. Seto was sure that in some circles, her name merited more cursing than his own, if only because Valentine's vendetta against the upper-crust was more personal than his own. People condemned Seto Kaiba as a murderer in the same breath they joked about what a bastard Gozaburo Kaiba was. Nobody of prestige with any dark secrets they wanted to keep a lid on dared joke about Mai Valentine. She might be listening.

"A wild dog attack? That's her front page?" Seto left the computer, and took a seat on an armchair tucked between two file cabinets. "Did the world run out of snitches for her to seduce while we were sleeping?"

Mokuba spun around on his chair, and handed Seto a printout with The Chronicle's heading on it. "Take a look at this then. It says the teeth marks were too large to be anything other than a wolf's, and they found animal hair at the scene that didn't match the dog's."

Seto looked over the document, and quirked an eyebrow when he came across something interesting. "A dog was attacked by a wolf."

Mokuba nodded. "Yeah," he said gravely. "With the force of a moving vehicle."

There was a beat of silence, as Seto considered asking Mokuba whether he'd been chugging cough syrup while his back was turned. It would certainly explain why he'd yammered on about the girl who'd "saved" him from some pushy beggar the night before.

He decided instead to proceed with all the gentleness he could muster. "Did you consider that perhaps it was a moving vehicle?"

"There's more to this than just the recipe for road kill," Mokuba insisted, a bit too melodramatically for Seto's taste. Eww.

"And what makes you think that it would be relevant to us, Mokuba?"

"Because. The wolf? Was wearing shoes."

A buzzing filled the air. Someone had just entered the lobby doors. After Mai Valentine's unsolicited visit the day before, Seto decided to activate the intercom system, specifically for the warning that came through the speakers when the front doors were stormed. He'd hooked up the security system as well, but Mokuba claimed that it wasn't supposed to be on during the day, when they were there. Mokuba still had a lot to learn.

"Hello? Excuse me? Is there anyone here?"

Seto frowned, and Mokuba's eyes widened in surprise.

"In here!" Mokuba called, before Seto could stop him.

An old man with gray hair, a mustache, and a frailty about him popped his head in front of the window of the front desk. "Oh, hello there." Mokuba jumped in his seat. Seto waved his hand in an irritated fashion, his message clear: get rid of him.

Mokuba slid his chair in front of the service window to speak with the stranger. Seto stayed sitting in the back of the office, out of view of the potential client.

"Uh, hi. Sorry, but we're not open yet."

The old man wasn't deterred. "I know. But please understand, if I weren't so desperate for disclosure, I wouldn't be so pushy."

Mokuba glanced back at his brother, but he was stretched out in the chair, silently staring blankly at the wall, his eyes narrowed. Mokuba knew this meant he was mad.

"Yeah, but-"

"I told you they wouldn't be any help, Grandpa. The Kaibas only care about themselves. Don't you read The Chronicle?"

Mokuba stood from his chair, and peered over the front desk to see a girl about his age with glasses and blond pigtails, clutching a teddy bear. She glared back at him defiantly.

"Rebecca, please. They're the only ones we can ask," The old man pleaded, patting the blond girl on her head. "My name is Arthur Hawkins, and this is my granddaughter, Rebecca."

Seto sighed deeply from behind him, and Mokuba forced himself to get tough with the old man.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hawkins, but we here at Blue-Eyes Investigations can't help you at this time. If you come back Monday, we open at 11.00 am." Mokuba was proud of himself for his professionalism. He could definitely get used to being seen as an authority figure, instead of as a prime-candidate for ransom.

"Don't listen to him, Grandpa, he's not even the boss," The pigtailed girl said to her grandfather. She pinned Mokuba with a haughty stare. "Where is Seto Kaiba?"

"What is that smell?" Seto asked from behind the two visitors, in a more deadpan imitation of the girl.

The old man gasped shakily, and twisted around, clutching his chest. The girl nonchalantly turned around, and eyed the tall teenager with something like boredom.

"I knew you were there, I just didn't wanna be rude," she claimed. "Something that, obviously, you don't lose any sleep over."

"You have to leave now," Seto informed them, not even playing at civility.

The old man pulled something from his blazer pocket. "Please. Just read this. I don't expect you to take me seriously, but we have reason to believe that lives may be in great danger." He held up a sheet of paper in Seto's face.

It was the Chronicle article Mokuba had just shown him.

The elder Kaiba smoothly took it from the old man, and flipped the paper around for his brother to read. "I knew it!" Mokuba declared excitedly. "I knew it was a-"

"It was a werewolf." The little girl interrupted, her voice dripping with disinterest.

A loud scoffing was heard from behind the front desk. "And what makes you so sure about that?" Mokuba challenged, and it was clear to Seto that he was now standing on his chair, giving it his best to look intimidating.

"Rebecca-"

"-Mokuba," both Seto and Arthur Hawkins scolded at the same time.

The two children glowered at each other. The little girl held up her bear to the side of her face, and whispered in its ear, watching Mokuba closely, and making sure that he knew that she was watching him as she did it.

Mokuba raised a wary eyebrow.

The girl stopped whispering, and then she made the bear turn its head to look at Mokuba, its beady little eyes shining evilly, and it nodded. Then it moved its muzzle to the girl's ear, and she began nodding, her eyes locked on Mokuba maliciously.

"Oh, I know, Teddy. I think he is too."

"What did that bear say to you?!" Mokuba erupted, coming unhinged, and trying to launch himself across the counter to grab the stuffed animal. She yanked him away just in time.

"Mokuba!" Shouted Seto, meaning business.

The old man laughed. "You'll have to forgive Rebecca, eh, Mokuba? She's so advanced academically that she sometimes forgets how to relate to her age group."

"Yeah. You'll have to forgive me; I'm way smarter than you are," Rebecca said smugly, smirking at Mokuba over the counter.

"Oh yeah!? So am I! Than you! I'm smart too!" Mokuba retorted angrily, feeling flustered. Seto smacked a palm to his forehead behind the strangers.

"I meant smart like, "I go to college and you don't," not smart like, "They let me wear a helmet that says 'I'm smart'if I pick up all of my toys.""

"Why don't you shut-up before I stuff Teddy down the garbage disposal!" Mokuba twitched his index finger up and down, like he was flipping a switch. "Flick-a flick-a! Rrrrrrcrunchcrunch!"

Rebecca gasped, clutched her bear to her, and turned around to bury her face in the back of her grandfather's blazer. "Grandpa!"

"Mokuba," Seto scolded again, this time noticeably less harsh.

His baby brother blinked back at him innocently. "What? I was just gonna tell her that I don't even need to go to school. I'm tutored online by the smartest minds in the world." Seto didn't miss the triumphant sneer his brother aimed at the back of Rebecca's head. He had patented it, after all. Mokuba cupped a hand to his ear. "And what's that? Oh, that's Abraham Lincoln's ghost telling me that you suck, Teddy!"

Fed up with the childish antics, Seto snapped at Mr. Hawkins. "Why are you here? We don't even advertise."

Hawkins looked away, embarrassed. "Well, Rebecca and I read the article on you in The Chronicle, and we just thought that, hm... This is a very sensitive subject for both of us, and we thought that you might be more -"

"You're good at keeping deep dark secrets," Rebecca interjected, her voice muffled due to her clinging onto the back of her grandfather.

"Seto doesn't have any secrets!" Mokuba nearly yelled.

Seto slowly turned his head, his face a dark warning.

"Well, none that are anyone else's business but his own," Mokuba amended quietly.

"Look it up, dumbass," said a muffled female voice.

"Shut-up, before I give Teddy a cottony neck stump where his head used to be!" Mokuba threatened, disturbing everyone in the room. "Just joking," he assured during the awkward silence.

Hawkins clasped both of his hands on Seto's shoulders. "Please Mr. Kaiba, we need your help."

Seto calmly removed the man's hands from him with barely disguised disgust, and took a step back. "Assuming that I do decide to burden myself with your problem, what would you have me do?"

Finally, the little girl let go of the old man, and approached the elder Kaiba. "Someone got bit the night before last, and when the full moon comes out tonight, there's going to be one confused and angry werewolf out there on the loose. We need you to find them, before they find someone else."

"Serenity! Are you okay?" Duke shouted into her bedroom door, restraining himself from pounding a fist it. "You didn't answer your phone! The front door was unlocked! Serenity!"

"Duke?" Came the muted reply from inside. Her voice sounded scratchy, and he could see no light from under the door.

Still, he sagged against the door in relief. "It's just me, Serenity. I haven't been able to get a hold of you all day."

"I'm sorry, Duke. I'm just not feeling well," said the voice behind the door. Then he heard sniffling, and decided to take a risk.

When Duke opened her bedroom door, he felt his heart drop and shatter like glass, and the sharp, brittle pieces sliced into his lungs, catching his breath. Serenity was sitting on the edge of her bed, hugging herself. Tear streaks were running down her face, and her almond-shaped brown eyes were shining from beneath her wet eyelashes. She held a hand tightly over her mouth to disguise the sobs that racked her body, her brows knit together.

"Oh, Serenity..." With something like panic, he stumbled over to comfort her. "Please," he begged when she turned away to hide her face behind her long hair. "What's wrong?" Duke had never seen her so upset before, and with each tear that trailed down her face, he felt a terrible sucking sensation like he was bleeding out onto the floor.

"I- I..." No longer able to conceal his concern, Duke threw himself beside her, immediately wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and she leaned her head into the crook of his neck, still weeping. He rested his chin on top of her soft tangerine hair, and placed a kiss to her scalp, feeling helpless.

They stayed like that for a while, until her cries softened and she stopped shaking, and Duke had never loved her more than when she gently wrapped her arms around his waist, and breathed into his shoulder, "I'm so glad I have you, Duke."

"I would be too."

Serenity pulled away from him. "What?"

"What's got you blue?" He asked instantly, with a tender smile.

Serenity's face had finally dried with silver streaks that caught the light running down vertically, but when she tried to answer his question, her eyes welled up again. She wiped at them, and tried her best to give a watery smile.

"I don't know what to do. It's crazy..."

"You can tell me." Duke shifted an arm around her shoulder again, and did the half-lidded- upturned-lip-head-tilt move he'd practiced in the mirror a few weeks before.

Serenity took a deep breath, and moved her head right next to his so that she could whisper in his ear. Duke shivered at the feel of her breath tickling the hairs behind his ear. When she spoke, her hushed little girl voice almost made his eyes roll back in their sockets.

And then he tried to comprehend what he thought she'd actually said.

"What?! You think you're a what?!"

At his reaction Serenity got up off her bed and walked over to her window, her back turned to him. "I was afraid that you wouldn't understand..."

Duke shook his head. "No, Serenity, I-"

"I don't know how to tell Joey. And what would my parents say?" She inhaled a shaky breath, and would not look at him.

Duke's throat had gone dry. He really didn't know what the hell she was talking about. He hadn't heard her. Was it his fault that she smelled distractingly like vanilla? No. Was it his fault that he lost control of his basic motor functions whenever she got too close to him? No! Was it his fault that he'd fantasized that he would find her crying someday and then comfort her and then she would be like, "I want you, Duke," and then he would be all "I've always known," and then ... Crap.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Well, Serenity, I'm sure that they would accept you even if... uh... no matter what," he finished lamely.

Taking him by surprise, Serenity whipped around and yelled, "but I'm a murderer!"

Duke almost fell off the bed. "What!?"

She had never looked so solemn before. "I had a dream last night. I... I killed someone. A dog."

He was torn between laughing and choking down his laughter. "A dog isn't a person, Serenity. And it was just a dream..."

"I wish so much that it was," She murmured wistfully, and retrieved a sheet of paper off of her computer desk. Carefully, like it was that bird's egg she'd found in her backyard years ago, she handed the document to Duke, and waited, ashamed, for his reaction to it.

He scanned it, frowning. And then he handed it back to her. "Uh huh?" He still had no idea what had her upset about it. "It says that the dog is still alive though-"

"Barely! And didn't you see how close they found the dog? He was the neighbors'! The one that bit me a few nights ago!" She seemed so distraught over the possibility of injury (not even death) of the vicious animal that had brutally attacked her that Duke had to laugh.

"Serenity! It says that a wolf mauled it. What are you even talking about it?" Duke asked, still laughing.

She looked hurt. "Didn't you hear me? I know that it wasn't just a dream, Duke. I... I think I'm a were-dog."

Duke felt the guilt stab his gut before the first bubbles of bursting laughter even hit him.

Serenity looked like she wanted to cry again. This is not my fault! Duke forced himself to stop laughing, and pretended as though he'd done nothing more than give an amused chuckle.

"That's... silly, Serenity." He was trying very hard. He didn't want to laugh at her, but she was just too cute. "First off, you said that you had the dream last night. The dog was attacked two nights ago-"

"The same night that I was attacked," she interrupted, nodding her head. "Isn't that a little suspicious?"

"Not really Serenity. I mean, I was here with you until you went to sleep. Trust me, you didn't hurt anyone or anything." He softened his skeptical tone, and gazed into her watery hazel eyes. "You wouldn't."

She ignored his Casanova routine and started pacing around her bedroom floor. "I wish Joey were here."

Duke made an effort to hold in the aggravation that always accompanied her brother's name. "Isn't he supposed to be, to fix the roof or something?" He asked in monotone.

Serenity turned away from him, and watched outside as the last flickers of daylight faded away with the pink and purple horizon. "He was supposed to be here before dark. I called him yesterday to see if he got home okay, and he said he was sick. I'm really worried about him..."

"What's new?" Duke muttered bitterly to himself.

"He doesn't seem like himself. He said that he was just worried about me, but I've got a terrible feeling that something bad is going to happen..." She resumed pacing, the delicate features of her face marred in anxiety.

Serenity's words blurred together unheard by Duke, like the oft-repeated legal warning before a movie. "Uh-huh. Joey. Terrible. Yup."

Serenity stopped abruptly in front of the window and hugged herself, her eyes locked on the hazy pale glow in the sky, half-disguised by clouds.

"Tonight's a full moon, Duke. I think you should go." She sounded so serious, so assertive, Duke felt like he was sitting in a room with a stranger.

"Serenity, you can't really believe that you're a werewolf..."

"Were-dog. The neighbor's dog was named Killer." She sighed shakily. "Before I killed him."

This wasn't funny anymore. Duke could handle a weepy, needy Serenity. He wasn't so sure he knew how to deal with a self-assuredly morbid one. He decided to humor her, and maybe she would listen to herself and see how unreasonable she sounded.

"All right. So, let's say you are a "were-dog." How can you become one if it wasn't a full moon yet when the dog bit you?"

Serenity's shoulders tensed up in thought, then she turned and joined him on the bed. Duke could see the change that came over her when she realized that he was taking her seriously for once, and made a silent memo on how adorable she was when she was being earnest.

"Maybe..." Her eyes were thoughtfully focused on the bedspread, and he could hardly see her face through her long bangs. "Maybe a were-dog doesn't have to be in were-dog form when it bites you? Maybe the bite transfers the disease any time it bites someone?"

"Why don't we call you a were-girl then, since the dog was a dog, and you're a gi-?"

"Duke!" She was annoyed at him, and Duke had never seen her look hotter.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, lying.

"That dream I had was too real. It felt more like a memory. What if I changed into a were-dog, and went after the one who made me that way?"

Duke sighed in frustration. "..Then how did you change if it wasn't a full moon?"

Serenity jumped up off the bed, and set into her now-familiar pacing routine. "Even if you aren't in were-dog form, you're still a were-dog. So maybe if it's close to-"

Duke interrupted her, failing at masking his smirk. "I'm sorry, Serenity, but can we please just say werewolf? I am this close to cracking up every time you say it, and I really don't want to hurt your feelings again."

She regarded him silently, unreadable. Then, "Joey would believe me."

The phone rang.

Neither she nor Duke said anything when she retrieved the phone off her nightstand, and the two wouldn't look at each other.

"Hello?"

Duke stared at the floral-print of her bed spread, picking at a tiny purple stitch.

"Hello?"

"Joey? Is that you?" Finally, Duke chanced a glance at her, and her fear was palpable by the way she was clutching the plastic handset.

"What's wrong?" Duke asked half-heartedly, still dejected by her dismissal of him.

"I think it's Joey... but he's- he's grunting or something. Joey?!" Serenity was yelling into the phone, on the edge of tears again.

"Let me talk to him," Duke suggested, in a last ditch effort to win back her favor. He took the phone from her shaking hand. "Hey Joey, it's Duke. What's goin' on, man, you're scaring the hell out of your sister."

"GGGRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAWWWWWWW!"

"Whoa!" Duke dropped the phone in surprise.

"What happened?! What did he say?"

"I don't think it's Joey, Serenity." Duke backed away from the discarded phone as if would attack him. "My question is how the hell did Godzilla manage to make a collect call?"

Gingerly, Serenity knelt to collect the phone, and placed the receiver to her ear. Duke watched nervously from his position squished up against the wall as her eyes widened, and she looked up at him, her face paling.

"He didn't sound so angry until he heard your voice, Duke. It's definitely Joey."

Before Duke could reply, a metallic grating and rumbling filtered in through the walls from outside.

"That's Joey's truck!" Serenity ran out of the room, heading for the front door.

Duke waited until her footfalls were distant to throw himself to the floor, and scramble to squeeze underneath Serenity's bed.

He couldn't help but notice that the truck pulling up seemed louder than normal, but it probably had something to do it not stopping in the driveway, and instead plowing into the living room wall.

The whole house shook, and Duke heard things rattling and crashing to the floor in between Serenity's screams. He curled up and covered his head, halfway under the bed. When the dust had settled and things stopped falling over, he struggled onto his knees.

"Serenity!" He called out, terrified, and overwhelmed with a sweeping sense of guilt for his own cowardice.

He didn't hear a response for at least twelve seconds, and he didn't think that he could go on counting much longer if it represented how much time that he'd been forced to live without Serenity.

"Joey?! Is that you?!"

Duke got up and barreled towards Serenity's panicked shouting.

The living room was a nightmare. The green front-end of the truck sticking out of the wall had pushed everything forward and knocked it over. Pictures, furniture, shelves, electronics, keepsakes: nothing was spared Joey's destruction. Serenity stood a few feet to the left of the grill of the truck, and was backing away slowly, her hands covering her mouth.

The driver's side door jerked open with a squeal, raining plaster further into the room when the edge scraped the decimated wall. Duke hardly recognized the driver.

A crouching man with long, shaggy blonde hair down his back lurched towards Serenity, but she didn't scream like Duke would have if the beast were headed for him. It was grunting in some animalistic attempt at speech, bestial growls escaping from deep in its chest. He saw that its face was also hairy, and it sported a light beard and long sideburns. The creature's eyebrows were so bushy and thick that it had a unibrow, and the edges nearly grew into its sideburns. It looked up from the gnarled, clutching claws of its hands, and focused its eerie yellow eyes on Duke. Its jaws opened to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth, and saliva dribbled down its chin.

"GRRRRRRAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWW!"

"Joey! No!"Serenity shrieked.

Duke caught a fleeting glimpse of the full moon hanging impassively in the sky behind the open wall above Joey's truck on the way down as he was propelled backwards when the brutish animal attacked him. The back of his head hit the floor hard, and the world got hazy and soft, and gradually it got dark. All that he could see was blond hair, and snatches of the white ceiling.

Serenity was crying hysterically from far away, an unfamiliar male voice shouted something, and two gunshots echoed, but he didn't hear them.

Here, where Duke was, it was quiet.

"The smart thing to do is begin trusting your intuitions." - A fortune cookie

Author's Notes: Yeah, Serenity... who cares if Duke thinks you're nuts? Something weird is going on.

Finally, a new chapter. This fic is my labor of love, and I'm trying to "move it along" to the good stuff. I don't even have all of the main characters introduced yet, and it's already the fourth chapter. I changed it back to "Supernatural" a while back, because I decided that the "Fantasy" category reminded me too much of that movie trilogy with the hobbits and all the elves and the flaming vagina and all that epic...ness. But really, the Supernatural stuff isn't the main focus. This isn't "Underworld," folks. It's going to be more like, "this is Joey, he's a ruffian goofball who just happens to be a werewolf." And the intricacies of that "affliction" alone are rife with comedy, so lucky me.

Is Duke dead? He kind of had it coming, what with his perception of Serenity as a harmless little baby doll... Review, and let me know if he should make it out alive, as well as what else you thought of the chapter. Either way, you'll find out next update!