-Alexandria-

"So… It's true then. The Nine are dead," Eidolon intoned with a shuddering breath. He clenched the ends of the table in an iron grip. But without his powers, he couldn't even crack the ornately carved desk Number Man had brought in.

It had annoyed her when the thinker had lugged in that overly expensive piece of wood. But now, she had grown almost fond of it. The furniture was a nice touch that contrasted with all the white that seemed to litter every inch of the floors and walls.

"Not all of them," Alexandria pointed out.

"Everyone that matters," he bitterly insisted.

Again, wrong. But she didn't blame him. She had taken the news better, but it was a close call.

By all rights, she should have been overjoyed. The Nine were murderers, literal monsters with kill counts second only to Endbringers. And at first, she was. However, the sense of relief was only momentary. When the flickering moment of joy passed, only a lingering sense of loss remained.

She, and by extension, Cauldron had refrained from eliminating the Nine. It wasn't that they couldn't or that the costs were too great. Contessa alone could have done the deed. But they had clung to the hope that these monsters might prove useful in the only battle that mattered.

But now, they were dead. With nothing to show for it but the atrocities she had allowed.

Alexandria glanced at her hands. For a moment, the black gloves seemed to be dyed red.

"I assume you called us here to discuss the survivors," Number Man interrupted, glancing at Doctor Mother. "Particularly Bonesaw, I presume?"

"Among other things, yes," the Doctor agreed. "Out of the Nine, she's the most dangerous."

Legend frowned. "She has a deadman switch. Until we can get around her plagues, it's too risky to deal with her."

"I'm sure the Doctor her methods," Alexandria said, glancing at the fedoraed woman standing at the Doctor's side. "A good precog should mitigate the danger."

"With the rest of the Nine gone, it shouldn't be difficult," Eidolon agreed. "Do we have her location?"

"According to Clairvoyant, she's attempting to skip overseas," Doctor Mother answered.

"What?! To where?!" Legend exclaimed, almost rising from the seat as he echoed the shock in the room. She couldn't blame her friend; it was an utterly horrifying notion. Without the Protectorate to keep pressure on the tinker, there was no telling what sort of horrors she'd be able to devise.

There was no shortage of warlords or nations who'd gleefully sell their own children for the chance to capture a tinker capable of unmitigated destruction like Bonesaw. Alexandria merely sighed, tapping her fingers against the table and drawing Legend's attention back to her.

"How did she—," he started.

"Private yacht," Alexandria interrupted, answering the question before he could ask. "There'll be a report sitting on your desk when we're done… but as far as we can tell, she slaughtered and changed the crew of a private vessel off the coast of California. Word reached one of the local military bases before the PRT. They didn't realize what they were up against and decided to take her out."

Legend groaned before releasing a stress-filled sigh. "I assume it didn't go as planned?"

"Yes, but not for the reason you'd think," Alexandria said, thoughts churning with the new information Kurt had provided. The few pieces that seemed out of place were now slotting together to form a terrifying image. "They dispatched an armed drone to sink the vessel from afar… unfortunately, the operator mutinied and turned it on his own military base. A dozen dead and more wounded."

Legend reeled as though struck.

"That's…"

Simurgh Bomb.

"Before you ask. No. I don't know why," the Doctor stated, maintaining her composure. "Neither the Simurgh's motives nor Bonesaw's."

"Then what do you suggest?" Alexandria asked quietly. "What can we do?"

"We have our own precogs," Eidolon suggested.

"Against the Simurgh? As long as she's protecting Bonesaw, the girl's practically a blind spot."

Contessa was the most powerful precognitive in the world. But the title held true only among parahumans.

Legend frowned. "It doesn't make sense. She's never been this direct. Why would the Simurgh protect Bonesaw in the first place?"

The Simurgh was infamous for her manipulations, but her activities had always been subtle. Almost invisible. Seeing her actively protecting an insane child with the potential to wipe out billions was out of character and horrifying on multiple levels.

"For the same reason that she sent the Nine to Brockton Bay, I suspect," Number Man chimed in.

"And what led you to that conclusion?" Eidolon skeptically asked. "What makes you think the Simurgh had anything to do with the Nine?"

"I didn't. But now that I know the Simurgh is at play, it starts to make sense. Jack had always walked between the lines of personal safety and his insatiable desire for drama. But he was never reckless. But this time, he targeted an unknown. Very unlike him, I would say."

Alexandria paused for a moment, her mind thinking through the connotations. What he was suggesting wasn't impossible, considering that Mannequin was in the team. But… "Why would she send the Nine to the Bay?"

"To kill Saber."

"To kill Saber?"

"To kill Saber," Number Man affirmed. "Or at least, set the stage for Bonesaw to do so."

Her frown deepened as her thoughts raced, thinking of distant possibilities and motives. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, but Saber wasn't the Simurgh's usual kind of victim. The Endbringer typically targeted those who could bring change for the better, primarily Tinkers.

Saber was powerful, yes. But if the criteria were based on strength, the Triumvirate would have been her first target. No matter how she thought, she couldn't see a single thing that made Saber so special to warrant this kind of attention.

"The Nine died," Eidolon reminded them. "If her plan was to kill the girl, she failed miserably."

If this was actually a Simurgh plot, the failure of the Nine itself was worrying. As the most powerful precog, it was unlikely her plans could go wrong course unless— "She meant for them to die. But for Bonesaw to live," Alexandria realized.

"Yes," Number Man confirmed with a slight smile. "That child has always been the most dangerous among the Nine and with the greatest potential. Now she's, I suspect, very motivated to avenge her family."

"We need to protect her," Legend hurriedly suggested. "If necessary, put her in an alternate Earth."

"And put ourselves in the Simurgh's crosshairs?" Alexandria rebutted. "Any attempt at interference will likely lead to retaliation, and the costs might not be worth the benefits."

"And you think doing the opposite won't have cost? Are you forgetting what Bonesaw is famous for?!"

"As long as we have Panacea and Blasto, we can mitigate the aftermath."

"That's still millions dead at the very least!" Legend shot back, horrified.

Alexandria closed her eyes, and for a moment, she hesitated. But by the time she opened them once more, there was no longer any sign of indecision. "That is the best-case scenario."

"Alexandria," Legend hissed in disbelief.

"We can afford millions of deaths. But if Cauldron is destroyed, that is the end," Alexandria whispered.

If she had to make sacrifices, then so be it. It sickened her to let innocents die, but she couldn't agree with a plan that could compromise their organization. The possibility that the Simurgh would attack Cauldron if they tried to interfere with her plans was far too great.

Unless Saber was the silver bullet that they'd been looking for, she was not worth the price.

"Why don't we just leave them be and let things take their course?" Number Man suggested with a smile.

Alexandria scowled, irritation welling from within at the man's unconcerned attitude. The man was far too relaxed when the lives of millions and potentially billions were at stake.

"That's not a plan. Doing nothing isn't a plan," Legend almost growled in frustration.

"On the contrary, I think it's an excellent plan," Number Man said with a growing smile.

"What exactly do we know about the girl," Eidolon hurriedly intervened, not so subtly attempting to steer the conversation away from something less tense. "Maybe we can start from there?"

"Her past isn't anything too special, other than the fact that her parents were major shareholders of Z-industries."

Alexandria raised an eyebrow. "And that's not special?"

"Not in the grand scheme of things," Number Man replied.

"Were they among the original owners?"

"Likely. It would explain the difficulty in tracing her family history."

Eidolon smirked. "And here I thought the name 'Pendragon' was some sort of joke. She's practically royalty in Germany. Our domestic Nazis would love her, I bet."

"I doubt it's her actual name. Nazis nowadays have a strange fixation on knights… Naming herself Pendragon might be an allusion to something less than… knightly," Legend said with a frown.

"From what I've heard, she threatened to join the Empire when she didn't get her way," Alexandria noted.

"She's spoiled then," Eidolon grimaced with a frown. "All that power in the hands of a potentially racist volatile princess."

"More like a King," Number Man corrected, his lips curling in amusement as if he were telling a joke. "Her family history is quite the drama. Mother died in childbirth, and her father murdered by his brother, only to be killed by the girl when she triggered. In the end, she inherited all their shares, which is a rather substantial amount and emancipated herself."

"She's killed before?"

"In self-defense."

"That's… quite the story," Legend muttered, his frown deepening. "Are you sure its authentic? I could swear I've seen movies with the same plot."

"I doubt he'd bring unverified information," Alexandria cut in. "Besides, it would explain why she was so effective in dealing with the Nine."

"One kill doesn't make a soldier," Eidolon argued. "The reports compiled from the captives on scene claim that she didn't hesitate to kill even when Cherish begged for her life. That isn't normal."

"You think she's some kind of psychopath?"

"Maybe. Could be a power."

"The character analysis Armsmaster submitted notes that other than the initial confrontation, she is, in all regards, an ideal hero," Legend refuted.

"Which is even more suspicious. She's fifteen years old. There's no such thing as a perfect teenager. Unless they're… you know," Eidolon commented.

"It's too early to judge, but maturity comes from experience. Thinker powers might help with decisions, but it doesn't make a child mature. In fact, I would argue it does the opposite," Alexandria joined in.

"If Saber is a psychopath, she would be a functional one. I'd say that's an improvement over the typical parahuman rather than a detriment," Number Man mused.

"Beyond her psychological state, why is she in Brockton Bay?" Alexandria wondered. "It's not exactly the vacation spot for the ultra-wealthy."

"Who knows?" Number Man shrugged. "Perhaps she wants to explore the world. Live a different life. Or maybe even open a branch there."

"Impossible," Alexandria asserted. "The U.S. government will never allow a parahuman-run company to operate on American soil. You know that."

"Yet, the NEPEA-5 didn't stop consumers from purchasing their products."

"Yes, after waves of taxes, tariffs, and regulations. Letting them have a branch in the U.S. is a different level of escalation."

"True," Number Man conceded. "But money talks. Z-Industries is one of the biggest companies in the world. I'd believe that some governors would be quite eager to tax a bigger portion of their revenue."

"At the expense of domestic businesses?" Alexandria countered. "Nothing they produce is groundbreaking or even exceptional. But their products are still superior and more efficient. They'll outperform their competitors in the long run."

"Does it matter? For us?" Eidolon asked in annoyance. "This is hardly relevant. We're here to discuss how to deal with Bonesaw and Saber, not the economy."

Alexandria glowered at her fellow Triumvirate in irritation. "The Protectorate and PRT rely on taxes. While you might not care, I do. The fact is, if our domestic industries suffer, it'll impact the U.S. economy. That means decreased funding."

"You exaggerate," Number Man rebutted. "That'll take years, even decades. To the common consumer, branding is more important than performance. As you said, it's not like Z-Industries sells anything world-changing. And considering that civilization will collapse within our lifetime, I doubt politicians will be concerned about cannibalizing the future for the present."

"They're a parahuman-controlled business. We can't predict the kind of impact they'll have," she argued back.

"Look, the U.S. government is filled with morons, but they're good at pretending to be smart," Number Man said in growing annoyance. "If they show any signs of being less than friendly, their branch in the U.S. will get broken apart or even nationalized."

"I think it's worth the risk," Legend added, his interest piqued. "They saved Germany from economic collapse following the USSR's fall just by having their headquarters there. A branch in Brockton Bay could provide a stabilizing influence for the volatile parts of the east coast."

"It doesn't change the fact that the owners are parahumans with unknown identities." Alexandria rebutted. "Or that they have a history of eating existing industries."

"Industries that had already collapsed," Number Man corrected.

There was not a part of the world that hadn't suffered from the emergence of Endbringers. But none was quite as devastated as Europe. Many of their major cities were destroyed, critical infrastructure was shattered, and nations teetered on the brink of financial collapse. In a desperate bid to salvage their failing companies and stabilize their economies, a gathering of prominent financial leaders convened in Lausanne in 2002 for a high-stakes summit. It was a gathering where the hopes of half the world were perched.

So it was only fitting they would be met with the Hope Killer. Everyone attending the summit was slaughtered to the last man. The sudden and brutal demise of these leaders, combined with the crippling damage inflicted by previous Endbringer attacks, was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Entire nations were spiraled into economic turmoil, and their suffering was made only worse when the USSR fall.

In the aftermath of the Lausanne incident, the fear of the Simurgh loomed large, dissuading any further attempts at international cooperation. Desperation gripped the continent as it struggled to survive.

Then came Z-Industries from the shit hole that was Germany, purchasing struggling factories and obsolete equipment in an attempt to replace what had fallen. Their efforts should have been a waste of time and money. Whatever they had planned should have failed.

But somehow, they succeeded- no, thrived.

In a mere decade, they expanded across Europe, seemingly defying conventional logic and providing a lifeline for nations from total failure. A single company had accomplished what the economic summit had failed to do.

The only explanation for their success was parahuman support. Massive parahuman support.

While lacking concrete proof, it didn't take a genius to realize there was something unnatural about their company. Its board and owners were unknown, even after a decade; every product they produced always came out perfected without any signs or investment in research and development, not to mention the source of their initial capital was a mystery.

While the U.S. had established laws preventing parahumans from controlling industries, many other parts of the world had not followed suit.

The company was controversial in many circles, but Cauldron had largely ignored them because no amount of money would make a difference in the final battle.

"We've strayed rather far from the point I would think," Doctor Mother interrupted. "Alexandria is right in that protecting Saber is a risk we can't afford. But there has to be a reason why the Simurgh wants her dead."

"Then what do you suggest?" Alexandria asked with a furrowed brow.

"We'll have someone watch her. Figure out just what makes her so special. We'll decide on our course of action depending on what we learn."

"Help her if she's useful. Leave her to die if she isn't," Legend muttered bitterly.

"Do we have someone we could use? Preferably in Brockton Bay," Eidolon asked, ignoring his fellow Triumvirate."

"One of their Protectorate members is our client. We can call in our favor," Doctor Mother said.

Number Man leaned back in his chair, his relaxed demeanor in contrast with the rigid stiffness of the room. "Unnecessary. I've already dispatched someone," he disclosed.

Alexandria paused and scrutinized the man in suspicion. "For a man that doesn't seem to care, you seem to be rather involved."

"Why wouldn't I?" Number Man responded calmly, ignoring her jab. "I have various dealings with Z-Industries, mostly financial. Saber is a major shareholder, so I've set one of my own as a sort of liaison. It's just good customer service to a rather important client."

Eidolon leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Number Man. "Is this liaison of yours trustworthy?"

Number Man's lips curled into a faint smile. "He's competent. If there's anything to find out, he'll let us know."

Alexandria's suspicion only grew. It wasn't lost on her that Kurt seemed unusually intent on keeping her at arm's length from Cauldron's influence. When he had initially sided with her to leave the girl be, she couldn't shake the feeling that his motives were different from her own.

Even if no one else noticed, he should have known she would. But did he care? More importantly, did she care?

She didn't. He probably knew that she wouldn't. Everyone at this table understood the stakes involved, and she trusted they would all pursue the same goal. As long as the destination was the same, it didn't matter which route each took.

Kurt's gaze locked with hers, his expression inscrutable even to her enhanced perception. While she had no intention of interfering, she couldn't help but wonder what it was that he was planning.

-Draugr-

When he first joined the Empire, he expected a family.

When he became a cape, he believed he would be part of something greater.

Things were different now, yes. But he wasn't sure if they were for the better.

Well… guess that's why they said, 'Never meet your heroes.'

But he had. And it had been disappointing as hell.

But at least it was fucking fun.

Draugr screamed as his arm was nearly bisected into two by a set of fangs longer than his head. The bite force of the oversized mutt tore through muscle and bone with equal ease. The adrenaline did little to eased the pain, but he supposed agony was part of the experience. Sure, his power could have numbed his senses, but the battle would feel like a game if he couldn't feel the consequences.

The damned mutt snapped his head to the side, flinging him so hard that the sudden change in momentum separated him from his trapped arm and flung his body into a restaurant window. He fell to the ground alongside a thousand of shards of glass, some of which embedded themselves into his meat when he landed with a painful thud.

For a moment, he laid there, groaning.

Not in pain, but rather, growing annoyance.

Yeah, sure, the fight was fun. That, he would admit. For a bunch of thieves, they were putting up a hell of a fight. It was way better than any of the practice bouts he had with his gang. Honestly, he doubted anyone in the Empire could solo Undersiders except him, Hookwolf and Purity.

But the fact was, their rep was shit.

And that made fighting them shit.

Victory meant nothing, but defeat meant that his rep would drop to the bottom.

As the new guy, he was getting enough crap as it was, even though he could probably take on the entire Empire roster and win. And based on how they acted around him, they knew it too.

That was why he needed to have a complete win. Not a draw. Not force them to retreat. But an absolute victory. Otherwise, his 'allies' would never let him live it down.

It pissed him off. But it wasn't like he could take over the Empire even if he killed all those fucks. His only choice was to win some fights and take some names. Until then, he would have to endure.

He tried to stand, but all he managed was a hobble. A glass shard was embedded deep into his hamstrings, making it difficult to even flex his leg. Unfortunately, the damned mutt didn't bother waiting for him to get ready before sprinting for another charge.

The sight of a monster the size of a truck coming at him with teeth bared would have made him shit his pants a week ago. But now, he was a cape. And the only thing on his lips was a sneer.

With a thought, he chose a power. Simultaneously, his wounds disappeared. Not healed or regenerated. But disappeared. One moment, he was bloody and broken. The next, there wasn't a stain on his clothes as his injuries became fuel to power the ability he had chosen.

With a grunt, he launched himself forward, intending to meet the furred bitch head-on. To anyone watching, the scene would have looked ridiculous. He was five foot five, and the mutt was a fucking dumpster truck. He should have been trampled, splattered against the concrete in a paint of red.

But when the two met, he wasn't the one who broke.

"Angelica!" He heard a girl scream as his fist slammed into the jaw of the massive mutt, hard enough to snap its head back along with its body and knock out several of its teeth.

The mutt whined and whimpered as she was forced onto the floor, rolling several times before coming to a stop.

"Bitches get stiches ya fuckta- ow!" He winced as several bullets riddled his body. They hurt like hell, even compared to getting his arm ripped off. But the pain was clouded by the sheer annoyance he felt at the girl in purple.

"Da fuck you trying to do?" He mocked, flipping the purple bitch a bird. "Half a dozen mags not teach your gun ain't doing shit?"

The briefing he got during his 'orientation' said that Tattletale was some sort of thinker. Either the Empire's intelligence division was shit, or the girl was a fucking retard.

Probably both.

"I'm trying to piss you off. Why? Is it working?" Tattletale sang back, returning a bird of her own.

"Bitch!"

"That's her name," she said, and shot him some more.

Draugr scowled. Bullets were shit against his power.

But they were shit in fueling it as well.

For a moment, he was tempted to just have his men gun them down out of spite. He had a dozen of his boys following him, doing nothing but hollering and cheering him on. To be fair, he'd ordered them not to interfere. Partly because it would have been humiliating to need the help of normies and partly because he was having a blast.

But if Tattletale wanted a gunfight, he would give her one. Cape style.

With another thought, he sacrificed his bullet wounds and selected a Blaster power. But all he could afford was two bursts of a shitty power that probably couldn't even kill a brat.

He raised his arm and fired, sending out a telekinetic strike that would feel more like a hard shove than anything painful. But Tattletale threw herself to the side even before he finished aiming, just in time for his attack to sail harmlessly past her.

Draugr clicked his tongue in annoyance. A combat thinker? Some form of limited precognition?

That was more annoying than dangerous. At least against him.

But before he could put the bitch down for good, a black fog surrounded him, leaving him blind and deaf like it did the last dozen times the ni***r used it. But it was useless. Grue's power had given him some trouble at the start, but it didn't take long for him to think of a power that could counter it.

His thinker ability still had 52 seconds remaining. Even if he couldn't see shit, it told him their approximate locations.

With a heave and a grunt, he launched himself into the air, tracking the bastards in his mind. His leap would put him on top of them, just high enough to— run face-first into a paw that slapped him down with contemptuous ease.

He was slammed into the ground with a resounding crunch, half his bones breaking and his meat grinding against the pavement in a bloody mess. He couldn't see. Not because of the darkness, but because his eyes had popped out of his head. Hell, it even felt like his heart was inside his stomach.

But despite the excruciating pain, he grinned a smile that lacked half his teeth.

"I said not too hard!" Tattletale shouted, her voice tinged with panic and annoyance.

His Brute power had three seconds remaining, and his thinker power had twenty-one. Besides those two and his weak-ass Blaster power that wasn't worth refueling, he also had a Shaker power that was protecting his brain. It was his most vital power that practically made him immortal, but it was also expensive as hell to maintain. His wounds were severe enough that he could afford to refuel them all but…

His Brute and Thinker power wasn't enough to clench a win. But he needed them both. His Brute to keep pace with his enemies and his Thinker to keep track of them in the darkness.

Honestly, the Undersiders were the worst kind of match-up for someone like him. They had only one front liner to fuel his powers, and the rest of them were fucking support.

If he were to sacrifice his Shaker power, it would open him up to possible death. He could survive any wound, even beheadings. But if his brain was destroyed, it was game over. But doing so also opened up a path to victory.

If he chose safety, then this stalemate would only continue. And he just couldn't afford that.

With a thought, his wounds disappeared.

Tattletale's eyes widened. "Look out behind—"

Too late.

In an instant, he was gone. Only to reappear behind Grue. With a grunt, he slapped the ni**er across the head, hard enough to faceplant him into the ground but soft enough not to kill. With a cry, Grue crumpled to the ground, and the darkness dissipated.

The mutts, sensing weakness with his back turned, predictably lunged for him. But their fangs and teeth reached nothing when he teleported behind Tattletale.

She was hardly a threat, but god damn, was she disrespectful.

To her credit, Tattletale slapped her gun under her armpit and emptied her magazine. But Draugr ignored the bullet wounds and struck at her shoulder with enough force to shatter it.

And then, everything shifted in an instant.

He blinked as a spasm seized his leg, causing him to stumble and miss his intended target.

Gay mother fucker, he cursed as he glared at Regent.

The momentary distraction allowed one of the mutts to pounce on him, sending him hurtling across the field.

"Bitch, stop!" Tattletale angrily screamed. "I told you! He's a knockoff Eidolon! He gets better powers the harder you hurt him!"

Draugr frowned as he digested her words. So… she did know how his power worked.

But then… Why?

Why were they insisting on fighting him?

He could access every power in the world, but the potency of each relied on the wounds he received. The worse the injury, the stronger the power he could use. He could even trade strength for duration and vice versa. It was why he wanted to choose the name Lancelot, based on the knight famed for his ability to use any weapon, including a fucking stick. With the Empire having a tradition of using the knight theme, it seemed like a fitting choice.

But apparently, it had been used by a hero, so his choice had been rejected. At least, that was the excuse he was given. Honestly, Hookwolf probably just wanted to spite him. I mean, why the fuck do Nazis care about respecting some dead hero?

Pissy bastard.

In the end, he went with Draugr. He didn't have a particular reason for the choice. It just sounded badass like his power.

His power was strong, but if his body didn't get damaged, he was practically powerless. While he could have his men shoot him, wounds inflicted by normies didn't fuel his power a tenth as well as the damage rendered by capes.

As long as the Undersiders dropped everything and bolted, there was no way he could've caught up to them.

Yet, they seemed determined to commit to a fighting retreat. They were running, but not to the point where they would lose him completely. At first, he assumed they were trying to wear him down using guerrilla tactics like those chinks did in Vietnam. But now, he wasn't so—

Whatever, he sneered. Regardless of what they planned, it would be meaningless as long as he beat them down before they could spring their trap.

He glanced at the pompously dressed prick.

His wounds disappeared.

And Regent crumpled to the ground, his body seized by convulsions as if he were having a seizure.

Draugr couldn't help but laugh in schadenfreude at the irony of seeing his enemy incapacitated by the same power he had, except better.

"It's time!" Tattletale shouted, turning his attention towards the remaining Undersiders.

Tattletale and Bitch were already mounted on top of their own dogs, with a barely conscious Grue straddled in front of the latter. Bitch whistled, and as if by telegraphed command, the third mutt scrambled for Regent, putting him in his mouth before bolting away. The other two immediately followed suit as a cloud of darkness covered their retreat.

Draugr blinked in surprise before he scowled. Oh hell no. He was satisfied that the morons finally had enough, but there was no way he was letting them get away.

His Brute power wasn't enough to catch up to them in time, but he still had a charge of teleportation and a telekinetic blast left.

As long as he teleported in front of the dogs, he could blast Bitch and Grue off their mount and get trampled in turn and use those wounds to refuel his Mover power to take out Tattletale.

But just as he was prepared to turn his plan into action, a sudden explosion of dust and debris clouded his sight as a hunk of metal crashed before him.

"Who the fuck- oh…" He would have to be retarded or a caveman not to know the PRT's latest star with how relentlessly they advertised her.

Saber.

But… Why the fuck was she here?

Kaiser promised that the End of the Nine would be stuck patrolling the ABB territories until the end of the week. Afterward, she was supposed to be forced on a mandatory break. That was why the Empire didn't make a push for territory and chose to wait until the tiny murder machine was on vacation.

Draugr hadn't put much thought into it at that time since all he had to do was steer clear from the ABB territo—

He glanced at the street signs.

Oh.

He was in a chink town.

Oh fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

FUCK!

That fucking purple bitch!

The realization struck him harder than any of Bitch's oversized mutts. The Undersiders had been luring him in. And he had been too distracted to notice where the fight was taking him.

The sound of metal hitting concrete took his attention. He turned, only to find that his men had dropped their guns and were already on the ground. It looked like even his own men, half-brained as they were, had enough sense to know when they were outgunned. He couldn't even blame them since he was using them as his hype squad rather than as actual soldiers.

Hell, even he could admit he was kind of scared. Especially since Saber looked almost excited to see them for some reason.

Well… at least even Victor couldn't make fun of him if he ran in this situation.

Draugr still had one teleport left but… he glanced at his men with a grimace. He would have to cut his losses and abandon them. It was what he was told to do in emergencies. It was also the logical course of action, but…

He sighed, and pulled on his remaining power—

"Cease and desist at once," Saber commanded, her voice and tone all too familiar to his ears. "Kneel, lest your blood—"

"… Artoria?" He called out in disbelief.

Saber snapped her head towards him in shock. "You... you're…"

She knew him. It really was her.

"… who are you?"

"It's Vincent you dumb bitch!" He angrily shouted, rage engulfing his mind as the memories of his humiliation came flooding—

Oh…

Oh fuck.

Draugr screamed, letting out incoherent curses as he pulled his hair in frustration. "Fuck you dickwad!"

"Watch your tongue scoundrel!"

"Fuck you!" With hate and anger burning in his eyes, he glared at the bitch.

Kaiser had ordered his capes and men to run on sight when they ran into her, but… fuck that.

Who cares if she beat Lung and killed the Nine?

If a chink loving bitch could do it, then so could he.

He was going to fight. He was fucking Draugr, the badass of badasses. And he was going to win.

In an instant, he disappeared, only to reappear behind her. The dumb bitch was too slow even to react as he struck at the back of her head.

Got ya—.

….

"Put your backs into it!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Vincent and his men shouted as they cleared away the ruined street.

...

Appreciate all and any reviews/comments

Edit: Vincent is the guy from chapter 8 and 9. Artoria made him clean parts of the school when he picked a fight with her.