*A/N : Bah, sorry for the late update, but my laptop crashed, so I had to write all this out on my home computer whenever my dad wasn't on it -.- grr xD ah well , enjoy part nineteen xD*

~Alteration~

Flame sat alone in the corner of her small room. The white tiles that say below her were immaculate, as though they had never, or would ever see dust.

She rested her head on her knees, thinking about the night before. Crimson was a mother. She had a daughter.

Flame sighed. This was no world for a newborn child. Murders everyday, running, hiding, screaming, fearing. It wasn't the ideal place to grow up. Especially if you were on the wrong side.

Which got Flame thinking. Perhaps they were on the wrong side … Ever since Party Poison had brought it up, she'd been brooding over the fact that maybe they were fighting for the wrong people … Maybe things would be better if everyone was the same … No more running or hiding. Just order and peace.

And what was it Korse had said? How she would be a valuable ally, a leader? Why her? What had she done to deserve leadership? If anything, it should be the Fabulous Killjoys. They were more used to being leaders, hell, they'd been leading a rebellion for years. But Flame? What had she done? Run around for years hiding, battling with Drac's whenever she got a chance? That was all. She wasn't the one there on that fateful night in Battery City. She hadn't helped with the freedom, the saving, if that's what it was. Perhaps it was more like damnation. Trapped out there in the desert, it was hell. Compared to the Zones, Battery City was like a heaven …

Flame heaved a sigh. Nothing seemed to make sense in her mind. Poison, Korse, sides, Crimson's daughter, they all faded in and out of her brain in circular motions, making sure they were all seen and contemplated on, causing her to be even more confused than she already was.

The thought that appeared most behind her eyes was Poison. The red-haired male seemed to be at the climax of everything. Why would he turn from everything he'd believed in? He'd always been the leader of the rebels, the one they all looked up to. And now suddenly he wanted her to join with Korse, stop the Killjoys? It just didn't add up … and what of the kiss? Why had Poison kissed her? It didn't seem to make sense. They'd only known each other for a couple of minutes! It just didn't seem to make sense.

And then there was the fact of Poison being alive. Why had Korse brought him back from the dead if he was such a great threat? It was almost as though –

Flame's eyes widened as realization dawned on her. She stood up quickly. The others were all in the hall where she had first met Poison.

She rushed out of her room into the white hallway, encountering a Drac almost instantly. Perfect.

Flame smashed her elbow into the Draculoid's face, hearing a satisfying crunch as its nose broke. Twisting the Drac over her hip, it fell to the tiled floor with a muffled thud and was still. Blood leaked out of the mask from its broken nose.

Stooping down, Flame retrieved the fallen Drac's ray gun and pocketed it quickly. With that, she ran quickly down the hallway, her feet hitting the tiled floor silently.

Chat and laughter filled the small hall where the killjoy's were gathered. Crimson looked over at Kobra and saw in his eyes how truly happy he was that his brother was back.

Crimson and Ghoul's baby was still in the infirmary, but they were told they would get to see her often until she was old enough to reside in on of the block rooms. They couldn't decide on a name.

Suddenly Poison stood up, brushing his red hair away from his face.

"What's up, bro?" Kobra asked, looking up at his brother. Poison just smiled down at him.

"Nothing, I'm just going to go get something fro-" his words were interrupted as the door to the hall opened with a loud bang, followed by the zap of a ray gun. Poison fell to the floor, unmoving, blood trickling from the wound on his temple. His eyes were open but empty, the life having left them. And there, in the doorway, stood Synthetic Flame, ray gun raised high, smoke billowing out of the barrel, and her face devoid of all emotion.