"So let me get this straight," the elder Xiong said, looking around at the remains of The Club. He resembled his son in many ways, though his hair was graying, and the look in his eyes was far colder. "Some girl just waltzes in here, makes a mockery of you, of my men, and the Xiong name in general, and you don't even know who she is?"

The Club had been cleared of unconscious goons, but that still left a number of blast marks in the floor, as well as a great deal of shattered glass. It would be a bit of time until it was up and running again – but that wasn't the real problem.

"Well…" Junior began, hesitantly. "She was blonde, well-built, and-"

"I wasn't asking for a description." Senior snapped his harsh gaze back to his son. "Save that for the police." He took a couple strides forward, coming to a stop in front of Junior. "I'm more interested in what you'll do to fix this."

"We can still track her down," Junior replied, his voice rising slightly. "We can-"

"That won't fix the matter of your weakness."

Junior's eyes widened, while those of the Xiong thugs in the vicinity were averted.

Senior stretched out his hand towards Junior. The latter screamed and collapsed to the ground, surrounded by a faint greenish glow. He twitched and writhed as phantom pain overwhelmed him.

After a few moments, Senior relented, but only to make himself heard. "I've been too lenient with you, it seems, if you'd allow a failure of this magnitude."

"Father-" Junior began, only to be interrupted by another wave of agony.

This wave, too, ceased after a few moments. "I hope you'll reflect on this. You're fortunate that I have other things to be doing than dealing with you." And with that, Senior turned and left the Club, not looking behind him as he went. He strode to a black limousine parked outside, opened the door, and stepped inside. The driver needed no instruction to start driving.

It was another hour before Senior was home and alone, away from the bodyguards, drivers, and general minions. There, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he leaned over the sink and let the illusion drop. The visage of Hei Xiong Senior faded away, replaced by a redheaded young man with fox ears and a faint scar along one cheek. Here, alone, he let himself grin. His lessers understood that he could cause pain. They had no idea that causing sensory pain was just another facet of his power over illusions and perceptions. Keeping up the illusion of being Hei Xiong was taxing, though, much more than it had been in another world, but he hadn't let the mask slip since assuming Senior's identity. No one seemed to notice the difference. Sure, they'd questioned why "Senior" had suddenly developed these fearsome powers, at least at first. But those questions had long since died away, replaced by respect and fear.

Speaking of which, he really wished he could be stricter with Junior. But, while Senior had been many things, a betrayer of family he was not. He could give only token punishments without arousing suspicion. Well – token to him, anyway. Doubtless Junior would disagree.

He started to feel a prickling at the back of his mind. The mind that had originally inhabited this body was trying to reassert control. Enough from you, he chided, scowling at his reflection. When you found me, you were just a lowly enforcer. Now, this body is the head of the Xiong family. And, I inevitably will be the ruler of much more. Admittedly, absolute power was going to be harder to come by in this world. There were no emperors or kings or other figures of central authority. No one whose identity he could assume and thus gain total control. But perhaps he could change that, given time. Time, and cunning. He had both in abundance.

The only ones that could possibly stop him were the other Prime Evils. These humans? Not a concern. They might have the power of Aura, but they were nothing compared to the ones who had defeated him in another world. But the Prime Evils... he would have to watch out for them. The question was, in whom were they hiding?

"This is tonight's target," Roman Torchwick said, pointing to a map on the warehouse wall. A picture of a storefront was pinned to it. The sign above the front door read "From Dust 'Til Dawn."

"As far as small businesses go, it's up there in terms of Dust stockpiles. It should have enough Dust to make this worth the trouble."

Cinder Fall glanced at the photo, before shifting her focus to the map of the streets around it. "Hiding a Bullhead in that area will be difficult." Her voice was soft, yet with a distinct edge to it. "But if things go wrong, I'll still be able to save you." She cast a smirk and a look that was less than friendly.

Roman scowled, then looked to the third occupant of the room. He was a tall man with short brown hair, brown eyes, and sharp facial features. He wore fine tan pants and a dark brown shirt with a black vest atop it, the latter garment adorned with silver embroidery along the edges. His boots were more practical. He returned Roman's look, then shrugged. "This is your show, Torchwick. I'm just here to observe."

Torchwick's scowl deepened. "I don't need supervision on this one. Miss Matchstick's already got that covered."

The man rested his hands behind his head. "Fine with me. I'll just stay in the warehouse and await your return." He smirked.

Cinder directed her glare towards him. "Actually, you'll wait in the Bullhead with me."

The man's expression didn't change. "I'm flattered that you want to keep me that close."

Torchwick, meanwhile, was looking between the two of them with a cautious gaze. She probably wants to keep an eye on him. She clearly didn't trust him, and frankly Torchwick didn't either. That rift between the two of them might be something he could exploit, or it might be something he ought to watch out for. His position was precarious enough without power struggles among his employers. Either way, it would have no bearing on tonight's theft. Hopefully.

Torchwick fixed his gaze on the man. "What was your name again?"

The man made a show of pulling out his wallet and looking at his ID. "Vico… Leer."

Roman rolled his eyes. "All right, I get it." Using an alias was practically expected, he didn't need to be so obvious about it. Granted, Roman himself was a little too notorious for an alias to matter – but otherwise, using an alias was just the smart thing to do in the business the trio were up to. "If there's nothing else, I've got a store to rob."

A short while later, Cinder sat in the pilot's seat of a Bullhead, parked in an abandoned lot not far from the shop Roman was about to rob. Her scroll rested on the dashboard in front of her, awaiting Roman's message. Meanwhile, "Vico" sat next to her, leaning back as far as his seat would allow. He glanced at her before speaking, "So, what is it you want me alone for? I assume it's not for my personality."

Cinder looked over at him and waited just a moment before asking quietly, "Why did Salem send you out here? I can handle this on my own."

Vico shrugged. "Our 'queen's' reasons are her own. As I said in the warehouse, I'm simply here to observe."

Cinder narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him. Vico, for his part, simply smirked at her. It was the irritating kind of smirk that said "I know something you don't."

But more than that, he got on Cinder's nerves for another reason. He didn't respect her. He didn't fear her, like Torchwick did (even if he didn't show it).

Was that why Salem had sent him? …No, there were others Salem could have sent, those who didn't yet fear her. But they were off doing important things, while Vico was, supposedly, just here to observe.

Salem doesn't trust him, Cinder thought. Hardly surprising, since he was the newest addition to their little circle, one who'd practically invited himself in. Perhaps she was meant to keep an eye on him.

She stared at him for another long moment, before making a decision. "What is it you're after?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I'm after the same thing as you, Cinder. I just have a different way of going about it."

She gazed at him for a moment longer, before adding, "So long as our goals align, we won't have a problem. But if you disrupt my plans, or otherwise act against Salem…" She turned one of her hands palm-up and willed a flame into existence in it, illuminating the Bullhead's cockpit.

His gaze shifted to the flame for a moment, then back to her eyes. There was no fear whatsoever in his own. Just that damned look. What did he know that she didn't?

Cinder let the flame die. She wasn't going to let him get to her. She'd just make sure he wasn't out to hinder her. There was a lot that could go wrong in this scheme of hers without people actively sabotaging it from within.

At that moment, Cinder's scroll rang. She wasted no time in snatching it up and pressing the answer button. Torchwick's voice came through. "Hate to say it, but I'm going to need a pickup."

Speaking of things going wrong. Cinder scowled, beginning the startup sequence for the Bullhead. Vico, meanwhile, secured himself in his seat, ready for the inevitable sudden takeoff.

Author's Notes:

And now for someone completely different. Twice. The butterflies are beginning to gather. Whether they'll have much of an effect remains to be seen.

"Matchstick" is a nickname for Cinder from another fic, Linked in Life and Love. It's a good fic, far more fluffier than this one will be. Just felt like giving it a shout-out, and I absolutely take as headcanon Roman's habit of nicknaming everyone.

In other news, I added a small extra scene to chapter 2, nothing major, just something that I felt was missing.

To be honest, this isn't my favorite chapter. I felt like adding scenes from the perspective of some of the other hosts, but... I couldn't think of as many scenes as I'd have liked.