Thank you very much pitou77, AtM0stFears, KSHMR, Unders0re, doudouchinois, Sol, Sailor Pandabear for reviewing to last chapter. :D

Dialogues in bold letters are in HxH's chinese.

Music suggestion: Ancora Qui - Ennio Morricone and Elisa Toffoli

Nocturnal ran in a bee-line to the laboratory wherein he had found Senristu. As expected, Dr Heier still laid unconscious on the ground. The Music Hunter bent down and hauled the man up to throw him roughly on the autopsy table. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to get the disagreeable doctor to open his eyes. Quickly, Nocturnal moved to search the cabinets around the room. Sure enough, he found what he was looking for: smelling salts.

I guess not all of your victims are granted the privilege of unconsciousness, is it not, doctor?

Without a second thought, Nocturnal pulled the man by the hair in a sitting position and shoved the compound beneath his nostrils. In a matter of seconds, Joseph Heier was scrunching his nose and moaning in pain as consciousness pulled him back. Once the doctor's eyes were finally open and focused, he was shoved harshly back on the table as Nocturnal thin, but very imposing frame stood over him.

"Where is the power box?" The Music Hunter demanded in a booming voice.

"T-The power box? Why would you want to kn-AH!"

Nocturnal's usually calm and pacific behaviour was replaced by a violent and anxious streak. He had no time to lose.

"Just answer the question, doctor."

"O-On the first floor! Beyond the employees' lodging area there is a storage room for cleaning products and whatnot, it is in there!"

Knowing from his heartbeat that the doctor was telling the truth, Nocturnal slammed his head back on the metal bed, knocking him unconscious once again.

Then, he proceeded to run towards the employees' rooms.

Along the way, Nocturnal met many of Hei Àn's regular employees: maids, butlers, gardeners and cooks. They were all peaking their heads out of their rooms, staring at their surroundings with fearful and confused eyes.

"You all should leave." The Music Hunter advised. "This place is no longer safe. Do not worry; Hei Àn will not be around to punish you for abandoning your posts. Just leave this place, quickly."

Behind his mask, he couldn't help but sigh in relief at having his order quickly obeyed. The Music Hunter didn't know what would happen once he was through with his plan and he didn't wish for innocent people to die due to his actions.

Thankfully, Nocturnal found the storage room rather quickly and wasted no time in pulling the door from its hinges so he could enter the place and turn on the light switch. It was amazingly clean and organized and, for a second, he wondered if Hei Àn inspected even this little bit of his mansion to make sure everything was according to his tastes. Knowing how much of a controller the General was, Nocturnal wouldn't put it past him.

The man's eyes searched the room until they found a large, black power box occupying a good deal of the wall to his right and marched towards it. As soon as the power box was open and its insides were exposed to the Music Hunter's view, he let out a curse.

He needed a code to enable him to activate and deactivate the power of the mansion's many rooms. A code he was sure only Hei Àn possessed.

Nocturnal spent long moments staring at the panel in front of him, as if examining its numbered buttons would show him the correct sequence. It wouldn't and he knew it.

Well, it is all of nothing.

With that though in mind, the Music Hunter covered his left, non-dominating hand with Ken and shoved his hand inside the power box. A scream ran out of his lips as the power box produced mini explosions around his arm and a strong electric current ran through his body. Still, he mustered enough self-control to keep his arm in place and pull the whole box out of the wall.

It was with great satisfaction that he watched the thing explode one last time on the ground as the lights went out around him.

Nocturnal knew the damage his arm had just received was pretty serious and that he needed immediate medical attention, but, just for a moment, he stood there, relinquishing in the feeling of knowing that what he should've done years ago. He had put an end to Hei Àn's terror.

Or, at least, enabled Feitan to do so.

Remembering about the Spider, Nocturnal used his hearing to search for his heartbeat. When he found it, he found his voice as well and what he heard made his black eyes double their size behind his mask as he mustered all of his Enhancer Nen to his legs, so he could haul himself through the storage room's wall and out of Hei Àn's mansion.

Nocturnal flew many feet through the air, landing roughly on the ground and rolling on the green grass surrounding the mansion. When he finally stopped, he noticed he was barely two metres away from his car and that he could see Hei àn's former employees approaching him in hurried steps.

Then he slammed his right hand over his right ear and pulled his legs to his torso so he could use his left knee to protect the left.

Not a second later, a thunderous boom resounded around him and the people running to his direction were pushed to the floor by a blast of hot air coming from the mansion.

The place was up in flames.

And all around Nocturnal, bone-chilling laughter ensued.

As Nocturnal ran to the storage room, Feitan was crouched behind one of Hei Àn's cars, listening as the General's footsteps approached him in a foreboding pace. Without his Nen, he was no match for the General and, hurt as he was, there was no way he could outrun him. There was nothing he could do but wait for the inevitable.

But then everything changed.

His Nen came back to life inside him as the lights died all around the garage.

A wide and psychotic grin stretched on his lips and, forgetting all about the pain, the torturer forced his body to stand up from his hiding place so he could turn to face his opponent. Hei Àn was standing still and alert, not three metres away from him.

"I win, Hei Àn." Feitan stated, anticipating the carnage he was about to commit. "Too bad for you. You were so close. But it's over now. This place will burn down in flames, and so will you."

The General didn't respond. He just watched with mesmerized eyes as Feitan's body was covered by a red and white armour.

Nen… It is so beautiful.

All of the hurt Feitan felt came back to him; the physical hurt as well as the emotional. All of the pain, anger, sadness, hate, disgust and desire for revenge. It all came back to him as Nen so he could summon his final attack.

"Rising. Sun."

In a matter of seconds, that hellish mansion was covered in flames and all of its inhabitants burned to death.

All but one, who was standing alone in the basement, staring down at Hei Àn's carbonized body in sadistic glee.

"Haha… Hahahaha… HahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Inside Nocturnal's car, Senritsu laid unmoving, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes full of tears. Tears of pain and tears of fear.

She could hear Feitan's satiated laughter, and it was nothing short of haunting.

Jean, Nocturnal's chauffeur, arrived at Hei Àn's mansion barely an hour later with a private ambulances on his toll. Despite not being amongst their boss' orders, Anna had insisted that he woke up Dr Duchamp and bribed some paramedics so they would go with him; something Jean would be etternaly grateful for.

He found his boss passed out close to the black Jaguar. His left arm was tightly warped by a cheap piece of fabric that had once been grey, but that now was of a vibrant red due to the fresh blood that had seeped into its pores. Inside the Jaguar he could see the small woman Nocturnal had warned them about. Her clothes were also stained by fresh blood.

Oh gods… What happened here?

As the paramedics attended both of the unconscious Music Hunters, Jean just stared at his surroundings with unbelieving eyes. He took a moment to examine the crazy patterns of footprints all around him – did an exodus happen here or something? – before raising his gaze to the still burning mansion in front of him. It was morbidly fascinating and he couldn't even begin to imagine what in the world had happened in there to result in such a catastrophe.

"Jean!" Dr Duchamp called. "We're good to go!"

Enticed by the flames, the chauffeur's eyes remained glued to the mansion for a few more seconds as he nodded his head automatically.

"Of course. Let's go…" Jean mumbled as his brain engraved the image in his memory.

Just as the man was about to turn around and march to the driving seat of Nocturnal's Jaguar – after all, the Music Hunter would much rather his driver to return to the mansion with his favourite sports car instead of the old pickup Jean had driven to the mansion – when something caught his eye.

A shadow was coming from the burning mansion. It was small in height, but definitely human in shape; and it was limping towards him at an alarmingly slow rhythm.

It didn't make two metres out of the mansion's doors before dropping on the ground.

"Wait!" Jean called as he ran to the fallen shadow. "There's someone else here!"

Senritsu woke up slowly, feeling warm and numb. But it was a good kind of numb; a numb that reminded her of the Sunday mornings when she'd wake up, roll over on her bed and just go back to sleep, cocooned by her blankets. As if guided by muscle memory, her body made to perform that exact ritual but halted itself when a stab of pain came with the movement. It was nothing too brutal, but it was enough to take that sweet numbness away from her body and prompt her to open her eyes and sit up.

She was lying in a queen-sized bed and wearing clothes that didn't belong to her. The room she was in a pretty in an impersonal way – a guest room – and she knew she wasn't a part of Hei Àn's nightmare anymore.

I remember a surgery room. A doctor named Heier. Needles and scalpels. Then… I was inside a car. Leather seats and-

A shiver ran down Senritsu's spine.

-laughter. Feitan's laughter.

Ignoring the chilling feeling that seeped into her bones, Senritsu tried to remember more about anything that could give her a clue of where she was. Nothing came to mind.

However, sounds came to her ears. The beeping sound of a heart monitor – her heart monitor – coming from her bedside; the dripping sound of the IV drip pumping morphine into her body; her faster-than-normal breathing and heartbeat; birds chirping outside her window-

Footsteps and heartbeats. Light footsteps and warm heartbeats.

She was most definitely out of Hei Àn's clutches.

As if to confirm that, the doorknob to her room turned with a light click and the door opened to reveal a chubby man with brown hair and a white coat. Images of Heier made Senristu finch and her heart speed up despite the man's comforting smile and kind heartbeat.

"Miss Senritsu, correct?" The doctor asked, walking slowly to her bed as to not startle her. "I'm doctor Duchamp. Nocturnal's personal physician and close friend."

Instead of offering his hand or demanding an answer, Duchamp turned to her vitals' monitor and IV drip, pretending to examine them as to allow her time to compose herself. Little by little, Senritsu felt her body relax and a small smile. The smile didn't come even close to reach her eyes stretch on her face, but she felt it was a start.

"Can I assume that I'm safe in Nocturnal's home right now?" Senritsu asked softly. "And that you took care of my… wounds?"

"Indeed you can." Duchamp answered as he turned to her with a reassuring smile. "And you're recovering very nicely, Miss. I do believe you'll make a full physical recovery." Then, the doctor's amiable face turned serious and solemn. "And, although I can't even begin to imagine just what happened in that terrible place, I want you to know that I and my staff are at your disposal to talk about and help you deal with whatever psychological and emotional damage you've suffered. I've called a friend of mine – a wonderful psychiatrist/psychoanalyst/shoulder-to-cry-on – and he is ready to take a flight here at the moment's call."

Senritsu felt her smile become a little less forced. This doctor's heartbeat was so warm and inviting; it was a wonderful breath of fresh air after the horrid things she heard in Hei Àn's mansion. Just like Leorio's lovely heartbeat had been in York Shin City.

Leorio and Kurapika… how are you two doing?

"Thank you very much, Dr Duchamp. I'm very grateful for your concern and care." Senritsu spoke sincerely. "However, what I have to ask you now has nothing to do with it."

"And what might it be?" Duchamp asked, smiling encouragingly.

"How did I get here? What happened to Nocturnal?"

Duchamp's smile dropped completely and there was no mistaking the painfully sad and remorseful edge in his heartbeat. Senritsu felt her own heart clench in a mix of dread and guilty as she waited for her answer; she understood that Nocturnal had been hurt and it was all her fault.

Oh gods, please tell me he's alive.

"First things first: Nocturnal is safe and his life is not at risk." Duchamp began, sensing the woman's distress. "However his wounds were extremely serious, especially on a personal level."

"What do you mean?" There was no mistaking the despair in the woman's voice. "What happened to him?"

"His arm; he jus- I didn't understand it myself. We found him lying unconscious on the grass with his left arm warped by an old piece of fabric. He regained consciousness in the ambulance, as the paramedics and I treated him as best as we could. He mumbled something about stopping the circuitry and a power box. I don't know just what in the hell he did with that power box, but his left arm was extensively burned. We did manage to salvage most of it, but his hand had been completely mutilated. The reconstruction surgery went very well and, aesthetically, his hand will be very similar to a normal one. However, there was severe damage of the nerves. He may recover some of his motor capacity. But the prognosis is very bad…"

Senritsu's heart stopped.

"I don't think he'll ever be able to play again."

Nocturnal heard Senritsu coming from corridors away. Her footsteps, although hurried and desperate, were very light but her heartbeat was thunderous with guilt and regret; impossible to ignore.

The wish to demand to be left alone never crossed his mind.

It hadn't crossed when Dr Duchamp explained his condition to him, nor when Jean and Anna had come to offer him comfort and support, and it wasn't going to now. Instead, he just sat up on the bed and awaited for the soft sound of a small fist knocking gently on his door.

It came in a matter of seconds.

"Come in, Senritsu."

The small woman opened the door slowly – hesitantly – and stepped inside with guilt lacing her every movement, breath and heartbeat. She didn't dare to approach him.

"Nocturnal-" Her voice trembled. She was so close to tears. "I-I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. If I hadn't-"

"Say no more." The cursed man interrupted. But his voice didn't echo with cutting anger or blame, only soft loss and acceptance. "It is alright."

"It's not alright!" Senristu let out, not even trying to hold back the tears. "Your hand! I did that to it! Because of me, you hurt yourself! Because of me, you… You won't be able to-"

Then and there, Senritsu broke down and fell to her knees as silent sobs racked her body. Her heartbeat was full of anguish, remorse and self-hatred, something that pained Nocturnal greatly.

"Senritsu, please do not cry." Nocturnal pleaded softly as he stood up from the bed and walked to her, so he could sit by her side and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It is not your fault."

The tall Music Hunter honestly didn't blame her for what had happened to him - it was a choice he had made, conscious that there might be consequences – and he knew she could hear it in his heartbeat. However, there was no keeping how hurt him to lose his left hand – his capacity to play and conduct music – from showing in his heartbeat and that was more than enough for Senritsu to beat herself for.

They do say that the most difficult thing is to forgive yourself.

Nocturnal watched the small woman cry on his carpeted floor in something close to adoration. In the future, he would most definitely still grief - and sometimes even rage - for losing his left hand. He knew there would be days he'd cry even more desperately than Senritsu was, but not today. Today, he had someone to suffer and cry for him.

It was heart wrenchingly beautiful.

Just like many of the musical pieces Nocturnal would write throughout the rest of his life, whenever he looked at his lost hand.

It took Senritsu a long time to stop crying but Nocturnal said nothing. He just waited until her tears ceased and she raised her gaze to him again.

Behind his mask, he smiled sadly and spoke.

"I deeply appreciate your concern, Senritsu. However, I do believe someone else is deserving of such a noble emotion. Someone who came this close to losing his life far too many times in the past hours. He is in the last room to the left, lying in a morphine-induced coma as to not feel pain. However, Duchamp is there, ready to reduce the dosage of morphine as soon as you enter the room. I do believe Feitan would not mind hurting if it meant seeing you."

Senritsu's heart started to beat faster. She knew exactly whom he was talking about, and she wasn't sure she was ready to see him at the moment. That laughter...

However, Nocturnal wouldn't be allow her to hesitate.

"Go to him." The Music Hunter spoke, laying his right hand on her shoulder.

Senritsu wanted to protest, she really did, but one look at Nocturnal's limp, gauze warped left hand made her hold her tongue. With a resigned nod, she stood up from the floor and made her way to the last room to the left.

The small woman stood in front of the door for long minutes, listening to both heartbeats inside the room and to the maniacal laughter inside her head.

It was with much hesitance and dread that she laid her hand on the doorknob and opened the door.

Duchamp was standing by the bed and, just like Nocturnal had promised, as soon as she entered the room, he adjusted the IV drip, reducing the dosage of morphine that would be injected on the man lying on the bed.

When Senritsu's eyes settled on the man lying on the bed, her breath hitched and, for a moment, she completely forgot about that haunting laughter she had heard the night before. The short man's body was completely covered in gauze and his chest was rising and falling in a very slow and pained rhythm. Never had her seen him so vulnerable and knowing she was the reason he was in that state made guilt overflow her system once again.

"He should wake up soon, so I'll leave you two alone. If you need me, just press that red button by the headboard and I'll be here before you can count to three." Duchamp spoke softly before leaving the room.

Alone, Senritsu took slow steps to the bed and looked down at its inhabitant with tears in her eyes.

"Feitan…"

Hei Àn: dark; darkness

Well, as I'm sure most of you have noticed, we are very close to the end of this. One chapter away to be more exact. T.T

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and all of the action-filled part of the fic. As always, please tell me what you think about it. ;D

Next chapter, I'll prove this is truly a SenritsuxFeitan fic; we get an overdose of feels and fluff between those two! *.*

Kisses,

RedVoid