Tremors had started to consume the pale young woman in Rewonda's lap. Her skin was clammy and had a sickly grey to it. She mumbled in her sleep, breathing unevenly as she seemed to fight something deep within her. The medicine had worn off and now insurmountable agony was filling her slowly, her legs numb while the rest of her shut down one piece at a time. Swerve could see this when he finally woke up once more, actually silenced as he saw the girl's suffering. He looked silently, worried beyond belief at Rewonda who only nodded. She was dying.

The both of them held onto Temperance as she sweated out the drugs she had barely gotten the chance to acclimate to. It was a process that would take several days, but neither of the two were sure she'd even make it that long or even if they'd be alive to see that day. It was test only time could tell.

Thankfully Tyrest had swept the maddened bloodlings away from the area so the smell on the air had faded with time. But even Banshees and Harpies needed sleep. Rewonda fought hard against her heavy eyelids as she stared into the dark, sure something lingered there. Reapers, bloodlings, or even corrupt politicians like the shadier parts of everything. Strange, and only two of them were actually paranormal.

Cyclonus was more than happy to get off of Whirl's bike, head spinning from how fast the young man drove and just how risky a driver was. He stumbled on his feet for a few seconds before regaining his balance and staring up at the massive break-away trailer filled with old ships and crates. Even Whirl gave a daunted whistle, not quite sure if there was enough of them to search through it all.

"Well… we have time. The full moon's not for a couple'a days, right?" Whirl shrugged, Cyclonus simply swinging his sword from off his back into his hand.

"The magic of this moon is over the whole week… we could already be too late," he said solemnly, striding over to the ground of underground connections who were dividing into groups.

Skids nodded at the pilot respectfully, tossing him an earpiece. He said to keep it on before the vampire stopped dead and backed up suddenly. Everyone watched as he shuddered and grabbed his sword by the hilt. "Cyclonus?" Skids asked cautiously.

"Sonar… pulses from each corner of the dock to throw off senses… and something…" Cyclonus' voice faded as he tried focusing the sound. Metal against… a whet stone? Oh no…

Before Skids and his team could confirm what he heard Cyclonus bolted forward. Perhaps his named was called or maybe it was the sharp salty ocean winds breezing by as he sprinted down the huge concrete path. Orange overhead lights cast a city-night glow over the trailers, the man squinting through them to see the color blue. Unfortunately everything looked a muddy brown, orange, or red. Or was it that none of the storage carriers were really blue?

Ears ringing with the sonar pulses and eyes strained against the light, Cyclonus let out a furious, frustrated roar. The sound echoed far and fast over the water, the underground team turning to the noise, earpieces throbbing in their heads. However, another head turned farther away but still aware.

"Temperance," Rewonda whispered, shaking the girl from her sweaty slumber. "Christ, Temperance if there's ever a time to wake up it's now."

"What was that?" Swerve asked, face mixing confusion, fear, and intrigue all in the same go.

"The late ass cavalry," she said with her sharp confidence restored.

Temperance opened her eyes against her better judgment. They felt raw and burned as she tried adjusting her vision to the near opaque darkness. Above them was that single torn piece of metal and the moon light glaring above. The sky was lightening like dawn was near, but that was impossible. It hadn't been nearly that long. No… it was just deck lights… wait… lights?

Distant as they were there were voices that didn't follow up with beasty barks and drawls. They were human. Or at least normal voices. Who even knew who was really human any more. Rewonda was actually speechless with joy for one, even Swerve dead silent. He was still trying to discern if those voices were still ones they wanted to hear. But who cared. It was hope. Wasn't hope just enough?

Unfortunately, voice chuckling like a bucket of ice water thrown over the three of them, Tyrest was striding up from the shadows with the most satisfied expression. It could curdle the blood if you were exposed to that Joker grin far too long. He had what looked like a ceremonial dagger in his hand and a crystal bowl.

"If you tell me anything other than that bowl is for thirty cans of fancy feast and your pet tiger than I'm going to be sorely disappointed," Rewonda said laughingly, even though she was terrified. Her own shark-layered teeth were exposed in defense. Swerve too had shown his talons in apprehension. To her dismay Temperance's only defense was vomiting blood and being overly optimistic. Unfortunately that wasn't useful in a situation where we was threatened with being bled like lambs at the slaughter.

Tyrest took the tip of the dagger and tilted Rewonda's head up to that ghostly pale light above, reveling as a single bead of dark blood spread from beneath the knife's point and ran down her throat. He chuckled, wicking the blade away and running the edge of it across his tongue. He savored the sweet taste, iron replaced by an almost milky, indulgent saccharinity. Was that was drove the bloodlings wild? Or was it the sensation of the body stiffening beneath their fangs and gasps for life as the person beneath them died more the addiction? Who knew… Tyrest only needed the blood.

"Tyrest do you know romantic etiquette? We've at least had to sleep together a couple of times before you can get freaky," Rewonda smirked, defiant even when she faced certain death.

"I don't think you'll be so cocky when you see all the mouths I've had to keep from the meat."

The politician snapped a finger and bright, shrieking floodlights that hung from the ceiling filled the room. After the initial gasps and shielding of the eyes Temperance was the first to lose her scream to fear. The warehouse was flooded with bloodlings, their faces covered by metal masks all but to their mouths. Some snapped their jaws mindlessly, others lost to their own starvation, some silenced as they descended into the state of the others. It wasn't a fishy smell that Rewonda had first thought she'd smelled: it was death itself. Tyrest only laughed, eyes sparkling once more with that devious madness.

"You think just because that sad cluster of a task force is close by you're out of the woods? Stupid throwaway. You're already dead."

Thankfully when Tyrest had flipped the lights everyone could see it. At the far edge of the dock was a blue fishing vessel that was either channeling its inner Christmas tree or flooding the area with a beacon of activity. Cyclonus and Whirl looked at each other affirming what both thought, the task force and all the others running ahead.

Once faced with the ship they saw just what they were dealing with: a ship overflowing with rogues. Even Skids and Getaway, men tasked with handling the impossible, looked a bit daunted. Skids, raking a hand through his blue hair with a sigh, simply threw his blade knuckle covers down over his gloved hands and threw his head from side to side and shrugged.

"I've seen worse."

"You tellin' yourself that to make this look better?" Getaway cocked a brow.

"Yeah, what gave it away?"

"Eh, the fact that you could piss ya'self right now. Bomp," the faceless man smirked, bopping his friend under the chin.

Finally deciding just to go for it Skids waved his team over to a ladder built into the hull of the ship while Getaway's team divided half into a standby and the other half with another task force. They went for the opposite end with a second ladder. Cyclonus, however, could smell a mix of blood, festering disease, and flowers. Always those sweet, soft flowers.

Whirl looked to the pilot and nodded. Not being able to leap great heights or sprint faster than a little above average he went for the ladder-and-run-in-screaming approach. Cyclonus, however, dug sharp nails into the side of the hull as he climbed, hands finally gripping tight on the edge of the boat and hoisting himself over. He saw that it was eerily quiet save for the underground forces and Whirl swinging around a short sword and gun looking for a fight. "Something's not right," he whispered, testing the ground.

Almost like a tidal wave had washed over the ship the sound of hundreds of heads suddenly looking up filled the air. Skids only had the time to say 'oh shit' before torrents of bloodlings crawled out from the windows and erupted from splintered wood of the floor. They clawed, bit, snapped, roared, and attacked blindly as ordered, Skids and Getaway back to back as one cracked open skulls with bladed knuckles and the other fired off the tops of skulls. Whirl, laughing amidst the constant rain of chaos, filled the rogues with lead and sliced them open left and right, running over their corpses like a kid in a psychotic candy store. Cyclonus, handling his own battles, laid the waves of the rogues flat with the sword, pulling two off his back that tried to overcome him with a snarl.

It seemed like an impossible battle, blood and bodies falling in absolute walls and yet three more rows behind them. Even Whirl was breaking a sweat as he dropped a pistol and pulled out another one from his waist. Gunfire had nearly deafened everyone who could still hear over the screams of the rogues. Finally a small break in the chaos, just a flicker, showed a path to a part of the wood that had been ripped away completely in a cut out square. An entrance?

Then, confirming the suspicions of a door a voice louder and more terrified than anything anyone had ever heard filled the air. It shook the ship and even those men on the ground, covering their ears as the headpieces screamed with static.

"CYCLONUS!" It shrieked, the man bolting forward and sliding into the hole, narrowly avoiding a beheading from one of the rogue's claws.

The fall down was much more of a daredevil feat than a jump. It was the cut away part of the deck above, some metal to support the floors, and then a freefall into a darkness he couldn't see through with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Thinking fast the pilot dug his nails into the metal of the ceiling supports, grunting loudly as he felt his arm strain against its socket. That was a risky and stupid move. If he was mortal or old as his actual age he would have died from the fall.

Down below him Temperance was staring up at him with a mix of relief and fear on her face. Tyrest turned back and waggled the knife in his hand grabbing the young woman by her hair. She shrieked in pain body shaking. She felt that tingling sensation at the back of her throat as she was held over the crystal bowl with her neck threatened by a nearing blade.

Body panicking, Temperance purged her stomach of acids and blood. Cyclonus stared, horror and suspense filling him. Taking advantage of the politician's shock, he jumped into a pile of shipping crates and pallets. It didn't feel much better than meeting the floor via gravity, but it was at least a little closer and would provide somewhat more cushion when he fell, albeit a splintery cushion.

Tyrest's eyes bulged as he looked down at the girl. Her cheeks were streaked with tears even if her face was full of disdain. She spat a mouthful of burning acid to the ground in resistance. The man screamed, seeing the young woman's diseased look.

"Tainted… your blood is rotten," he spat, kicking her in the face.

The crystal bowl was caught in the kick and half of it turned into triangular shards, splinters of the material scattering in the light like glitter. Temperance groaned as she spat blood, pulling against her bounds. It was then that Swerve looked over with wide eyes. He could see the metal and instantly figured it out.

"Pull!" Swerve snapped, yanking with full force on his binds. The metal snapped like cheap plastic. It was scrap they'd found in the ship yards.

The stocky harpy lunged for a piece of glass and daringly bolted towards Tyrest, ramming it deep into the man's throat. Swerve took several steps back as his hand ran with ribbons of blood. The politician, however, was less fortunate. His hands reached up to touch his injury, hovering just above the glass in shock, His eyes were wide as blood came from his mouth in gasps.

But something was wrong. He reached for something in his pocket and held it up. He pressed the button, dropped it, and grinned. It was a detonator wired from a car clicker. Rewonda kicked off the back of a support beam that they'd been tethered to and snapped the metal of her cuffs, wringing her wrists and Cyclonus bolted over and slid to his knees. He took Temperance's face into his hands, seeing the rising bruise on her face, and frowned harder than anyone thought possible. He stood to his full, looming height almost like a liquid and walked over to Tyrest. The man smiled even as blood ran down his chin around the glass shard that still kept him standing.

Without saying one word, eyes dark, Cyclonus grabbed the man's jaw and pulled it off with a scream of horror and a sickening rip-and-snap sound. The man seized violently as Cyclonus dropped the jaw in disgust. He flicked his wrist to get some of the blood off, ignoring the massive pool gathering beneath the now dead man. He was disgusting.

"Dude, you should have totally said 'You've just been vetoed' or something cool like that," Swerve said, mimicking Cyclonus' voice. "Or… or not." The glower he was getting from the pilot was really deterring to someone's sense of humor.

"Cyclonus have you found them?" Skid's voice echoed in his ear.

"They're here."

"Good because whatever the hell Tyrest just did you guys need to fucking bolt."

"What?"

Without warning the entire ship rocked in an explosion. Swerve instinctively forced the feathers from his arms and began flapping in panic. Rewonda grabbed a hold of his waist and hitched a ride on the harpy who was quickly making his way to the deck. Down below Cyclonus was reorienting himself and snapping the cheap handcuffs around Temperance's wrists. She was shaken awake by the explosion and floods of water filling the hull of the ship. She looked dizzily up at Cyclonus and smiled wide even through the pain of her swollen cheek and bloody nose.

"Hey," she laughed, her voice hoarse. "If this is heaven then I don't mind dying so much."

"Save the small talk," Cyclonus said as he lifted her into his arms. She felt cold and heavy, almost like deadweight. It was getting closer and closer by the hour.

The ship now on tilted Cyclonus could slide against the floor to the other side of the hull. Seeing that the foundations of the dock beneath them were crumbling he did what he could. He set the girl down and unsheathed his sword. He stabbed it through the thick metal, praying he had the strength to do what was necessary. He grunted with all his strength, screaming in a show of power as he forced the blade through the metal. Another cut, more screams and frantic actions, and finally the weak metal cut a hole open. Unfortunately it was facing water just at six feet below. Seeing that there was no way to crawl back up against the tilting ship there was only one way to go: down.

Outside Skids and Getaway's team were booking it as the end of the dock was breaking off, sliding fast with the screech and moan of crumbling metal into the water. Whirl had dove off the top deck into the water and clambered to shore where First Aid, yet again, was smacking him on the head while treating his injuries along with several others. Galvatron had met up with them, eyes wide as he watched the ship begin to drop into the water. He turned to Skids and grabbed him by the lapels, jerking him close.

"Where is he?" The man roared, fangs barred and eyes gleaming.

"I-in the ship! He's still trying to get the girl out." The young man panicked, throwing his hands up as the massive war lord towered over him. Skids was thrown back angrily as the man climbed atop the crashing vessel, finding the opening where down below Cyclonus was trying to cut out of the hull of the massive ship.

"You fool," he thought to himself as he dropped down, flicking his wrists and shaking a leg as he regretted breaking his fall that way. "You're going to drown!" The man snapped as Cyclonus picked up the fading girl in his arms.

"The only way out is down!" Cyclonus snapped back, bracing himself over the exit he'd made. Just before Cyclonus could throw a witty retort the massive ship slid against the water. Galvatron was thrown against the hull-wall-now-floor as he watched his old friend slide into the salty water. He cried out for him, but he'd already made the plunge.

The water was cold as the grave, a casket of bubble exploding around the pilot as his charge. They sunk to an impossible depth until the man's feet bounced against a slippery, muddy sediment floor. He kicked towards the surface, lungs already squeezed by being caught off guard. He fought for air, clawing upward with one hand and a girl in another arm.

Just as he was about to rupture the surface of the water in a frantic gasp a hand pulled him backwards. He turned his head and saw a bloodling, its teeth sharp and jaws snapping wildly at him as it yanked the pilot down faster and faster.

Turning back Cyclonus saw Galvatron was ripping the rogue off his ankles and snapping its head clear off its neck with a twist and grunt. He shot a look up to him and gave him a nod as the blood gushed from the corpse in red, twisting curls of watery smoke. Now it was just the race to the surface. Cyclonus kicked with both legs as hard as he could, clawing for the air.

Skids jumped back when a clawed hand broke the surface of the black water with a gasp. The nails dug into the concrete edge of what was left of the dock, limb shaking as he choked out a, "Take her." Quickly with First Aid's help the girl was hoisted onto the dock as the pilot gasped for air, pulling his own soaked body form the bay. He shuddered as he felt the water, warm to him, roll off his angular face. He swallowed gulps of that sweet air and turned his bleary gaze to the girl who was lying still against the stone.

One, two, three, breath, and First Aid repeated trying to start the young woman's heart again. His eyes were wide and skin pale as he pushed his weight against her sternum, tilting her head back, forcing air down her throat, hoping she would open her eyes and breathe. For a long time the background noise of the sinking ship and Galvatron throwing himself back against the dock was white noise. Skids stood over the girl with a grave expression, Getaway's hand on his shoulder. Even the backup looked uncertain.

"Breathe, damn it!" First Aid snapped, pumping on her heart a final time when the girl's wide crystal eyes flew open. Her body rolled like a wave washed through her, shoulders turning as mouthfuls of water and blood was coughed up. First Aid was relieved, falling back on his haunches as the girl gasped her own fitful breaths of life.

Once she'd opened her eyes again Temperance reached out for Cyclonus with an exhausted look of relief. She smiled as pained tears bubbled over her eyes. She smiled even through the pain of her bruised cheek and blood nose. She smiled because she knew, somehow deep down, that it was all the pilot needed to know she was okay. But nothing lasts forever.

The second she's assured him of her safety her eyes fluttered closed, the pain without her medicine throwing her into a blackout. First Aid threw open his cell phone and called an ambulance, information flying from his mouth faster than anyone had ever seen. Medical protocol and locations were given and soon, within fifteen minutes, the wail of an emergency vehicle screamed through the lightening sky.

It was a flurry of straps, IVs, call-ins, gurneys, and codes when Temperance was lifted onto the stretcher. The woman was wheeled away with a sickly look on her face, Cyclonus frozen in place. He'd saved her, hadn't he? This couldn't be happening so fast.

Galvatron, seeing a rare flicker of fear over the stoic man's face, placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. He ground his teeth as he let his nails sharpen and dig into his palms. Blood ran like ribbons between his knuckles as he stood, angry at himself for feeling such grief. He raised his hand to rake his nails across his face again, the larger man grabbing his wrist tightly.

"She wouldn't want that," he whispered, face serious for the first time in a very long time.

"She's dying," Cyclonus said, voice low and angry. "She wanted me to protect her from this and she's dying…"

Neither of them would say it, but both were thinking it. Galvatron simply sighed and clapped his hand over his friend's shoulder. The sun splintered in shards of light across the foggy sky, warm blues and yellows lightening the world even though it felt like it was just another summer anomaly. Why couldn't it snow again?

"Let her choose… don't make her live with your selfishness… trust me… you'll never forgive yourself for how it feels," Galvatron whispered, turning and shuffling through the crowd that had gathered by the dock and disappeared.

Cyclonus began clenching his fists again but only hissed a meditative breath, resisting the urge to cut himself open in grief. He stared at the sun for a long time until dizzying sun spots flickered in his vision. He felt the burn of forced tears as he realized what could be done. Temperance could slip into the dark, frightening silence of death while a reaper threateningly clicked its tongue in impatience in the background. Or… there was that spark of eternal life that came with overwhelming coldness and hunger for something sinful. There was death proudly like a human or life selfishly in the shadows. So much weighed on the decision.

You'll never forgive yourself for how it feels… Cyclonus let Galvatron's voice echo in his head as he swallowed a feeling of sadness. So he regretted the mistake when they were both young and daring, too. The bloodshed and battle didn't make him laugh… it was the incredulity that they'd both actually lived through it.