Big Trouble In Little Wrath Chapter 2: Doolin' Park

Red glowered at the skyline, his mood foul.

Something was… wrong. Off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Baking. His mind was filled with anomalous thoughts of baking ever since this morning. Creme brulee, tarts, cakes, pastries, and all manner of pies. Since when did he care about such things? Perhaps he was developing an interest? A hobby? Is that how that worked? He'd admit, he found the prospect of assembling culinary arts appealing. The proper ingredients in the right proportions, coming together in a confectionary delight that would impress and amaze. If he was to be King, he may as well expand his dominion to many crafts beyond mayhem and death. Perhaps he could get some of the kids in on it as well? Outsource bakeries for large orders, that sort of thing. Surely among the throngs of children there were a few virtuosos.

Ideas for later.

For now, he would wait. Wait for Setty to return with her underlings. The impetuous brat had disobeyed a direct order to avoid Little Wrath and had burglarized a well-appointed home. Some big shot musician from the looks of it. Someone connected, wealthy, powerful. He could only hope she hadn't accosted the portly imp. Or if she had, killed him and saved him the trouble of apologizing and returning the stolen goods. They didn't need more enemies out here. When she got back he would… punish her? How would he go about such a thing? She was still useful, vital even, so killing her was off the table.

Solido was back, tapping.

'Ugh,' thought Red. 'Killing her is never on the table. Happy?'

He was gone.

'Meddling little…'

Still, she would need some sort of reprimand. A dressing down? A beating?

Solido again.

'Fine! No beatings!' Red groaned, setting his hand to his face.

"You okay over there, Red?" Kabby inquired, fiddling with a fancy set of drums.

"Fine. Just thinking what we're going to do with that disobedient little shit when she gets back. Her and her flunkies."

"Well, let's give the younger kids a pass here. They're just followin' Setty's lead. Setty on the other hand…" said Kabby, rattling off a few beats on the drum. "If I pulled shit like this, my paps would chew me out and tan my hide!"

"No beatings."

Kabby smirked wryly. "Your parents didn't whup you? That explains a lot."

Red glared at the imp, his aura thrumming like a tesla coil. Kabby's red face paled, cold sweat standing out on his forehead. "No whuppin's, then. Still, this shit can't fly. Kids need a strong hand. Consequences. They need to know who's boss, y'know?"

"I thought she did…" Red grumbled. "Why would she do this?"

"Well…" Kabby pondered for a moment. "If'n I had to guess, I figure she did it to impress you."

Red arched an eyebrow. "Impress me?"

"Yeah. Y'know. Show you she's got the right stuff. Make some real cash for the 'Donna and pick the right team for the job. You gotta admit, this is a sweet haul."

"Sweet enough to offset a potential gangwar?" Red growled, hands clenching into fists. "We don't have the manpower to hold down all our new territory and fight a war up here, where demons of actual means are. Our position is tenuous. We're reaching our limit and any stumble could cost us dearly."

"Yeah, well, she don't know that." Kabby tapped a cymbal, producing a crisp note. "You haven't exactly been generous with the game plan, Red."

"She shouldn't need to know anything beyond what I tell her to do her job," said Red. "I should be able to trust my lieutenants to follow orders and not instigate a turf war!"

"Oh, for sure. But also realize that you're dealing with kids here. Kids do stupid shit for dumb reasons all the time. If'n you told her the stakes, she might not have pulled this bullshit."

"Perhaps." Red pondered for a moment. "Alright, we're leaving her cohorts out of this, but what should her punishment be?"

"No whuppin's, yeah?" Kabby thought for a moment. "Chew her out, publicly. In front of the other kids. Then, suspension from Acquisitions for a week or two."

"To what end?"

Kabby gestured at the loot. "She's good at this shit, Red. She likes it. Take her off the job with a few sweet words to think on, that'd sting. Stick her in Home Ec doing linework or the Shop pushing a broom. Shit, toss her to Surf Mesa and doin' custodial shit. That bigoted old fuck will make her miserable, and no mistake!"

Interesting. "And then?"

"Bring her back on with a probationary period," said Kabby, shrugging. "Bust her down in rank, assign her a babysitter. Shit like that. She'll be back in the swing of things before long. She's a good earner, Red, and great muscle to boot. We can't afford to keep her off the front for too long."

Red nodded, thoughtfully. "We just don't want her knowing her value."

"Now you're gettin' it!" Kabby rattled off an impressive ream of beats on the drums. "Remind her you got all the power, the leverage, and lay down the law. Bada-bing-bada-boom! She'll sharpen up."

Red sighed and stood up, examining himself in the screen of the immense flatscreen TV the kids had stolen. So it would be. Setty would be punished, demoted, and put out of circulation for a time. If Kabby's assessment was correct, as they often were, Setty would possibly learn from this experience. Now, all they needed to do was wait for them to return…

…Which should be any time now.

He waited.

And waited.

The loot had stopped coming in, so where were they?

Impatient, Red called upon his precognition, the future opening before him and flaky pastry was different from puff pastry in several key areas such as butter content and the absence of a leavening agent such as yeast.

…Wait, what?

He tried again. The future would unravel before him, a 100 second window of prescience wherein the key to a perfect souffle is perfectly stiff egg whites, carefully folded into the–

What was going on?

Where was his future-vision?

Where was his fate-selection?

Why was he still thinking about baking?!

"This is… impossible…" He muttered, horrified. "Something's wrong."

Kabby noticed the pall that had fallen over his boss. "Red? You okay over there?"

Red opened his mouth to answer when the low, distant rumble of an explosion shook the ground and air. They spun around to see a pillar of smoke climbing high into the air. Red's gut clenched when he recognized the skyline: Little Wrath.

"Setty!"

"Oh, shit…" Kabby croaked. "Red?"

"Recall everyone back to the 'Donna!" Red snarled, pointing to the loot. "Load all this up and wait for our return!"

"Okay, I'll just–" Kabby began to say before Red leapt into the air, the force of his jump shattering the concrete. He watched as the large demon's form streaked off into the air, clearing tall buildings in a single bound before leaping again, fast becoming a tiny dot. He sighed and looked around at all the fancy, heavy stuff. "I'll just do that, then."


Setty gulped, sweat standing out on her forehead. What were the Vees doing here?! Were they making moves on Little Wrath? Worse yet, these particular Vees… what were the odds?

"Who are these guys, Setty?" Barrel asked, hiding behind her. "You know them?"

"Lookit their teeth and stupid outfits!" Barkley snarled, unslinging his guitar. "They're Vees! HEY! This ain't your turf, assholes!"

"Watch your mouth, brat," said Steppenwulf, an irritated crease forming in his brow. "And like you can talk! Does Daddy know you're out here, Setty?"

She said nothing, glaring at him.

"He doesn't?" Steppenwulf whistled. "Ooh… what, you thought you'd knock over some rich prick's house and impress pops? Ouch, kid! I dunno what to tell you, but you're in for a bit of a titty-smack when you get back home."

"If ya get back! Heh-heh-heh!" Stompah chuckled.

"You're talkin' mad shit for guys what got their asses handed to 'em last time they tackled the 'Donna!" Barkley barked. "Weren't there more of you dipshits before?"

Steppenwulf stopped smiling, his eyes narrowing. Stompah and Pall quickly dropped their acts and pulled up to their boss.

"H-hey there, Step…" Pall said, nervously. "Don't get riled, now."

"Yeh, we'z not 'ere on biznizz," said Stompah. "We ain't been given leev ta start trubble."

Steppenwulf glared at them for a moment, scaly lips fleered back from his gatorish fangs before he relented, heaving a sigh. "Muzzle that pup, Setty. His yappin' is writing checks your asses can't cash."

"Barkley," said Setty. "Shut up."

Barkley turned to Setty, surprised, seeing her set, grave expression and buttoning up.

"You should keep a rolled up magazine handy for that one!" Pall called out, laughing.

"Big talk from a giant pussy," growled Setty before pointing at Step. "You're not here on business, I hear that right?"

"That's right. We're just back from the front for a little R'n'R." Steppenwulf nodded, crossing his arms. "Which is more'n I can say for you, brat. This ain't your turf, so what're you doing here? Not working, I hope."

"What's it to you?"

Steppenwulf shrugged. "Guess we saw you kids and figured you was lost or something? Play at being good Samaritans, y'know? Save you brats a lotta trouble and all we get is lip! Kids today…"

"Get to the point, lapdog!" Setty snarled.

"I told you already, sugartits. This ain't Red's turf."

Setty smirked, crossing her arms. "Lotta places ain't Red's turf before he shows up. Then they are. You've been on the receiving end of that phenomenon, remember?"

"Fem-on-in-on?" Steppenwulf said, turning to Pall.

"An occurrence, circumstance, or effect that is perceptible by the senses," the slender smilodon-demon said, noting Steppenwulf's irritation at the answer. "Like, a thing that happens and you notice it."

"Fuckin' fitty $oul words…" Steppenwulf grumbled, turning back to Setty. "See, the thing is, that might be how shit slides in your fleabag 'hood, slut. But this is Little Wrath. There's money here, people what matter, people who could give even your Pops trouble. Ever wonder why he don't send you brats in here where all the good loot is? Daddy knows best, baby, and he ain't sniffing around here. Sure hope ya didn't do anything stupid just now. Didja?"

Setty grimaced, glancing at the other kids. "And what if we did?"

Steppenwulf grinned, shaking his head. "Well, if that's the case, then those money'd people what matter just might pull together and kick you streetrats to the curb, Daddy right with ya. Holdin' the turf he does with rep alone, I gotta say, it's pretty impressive! But even he knows he's pushing it. You just might've brought a whole world of trouble down on his head, just 'cause, what, you wanted to impress him? You wanted to show Daddy his Baby could hack it out here? Bring in the money and herd the cats? Y'wanted him to pull you in close and whisper 'I'm prouda you, Setty' in your ear? Hug ya with them big strong arms. That about right?"

Setty grit her teeth as a blush flared in her cheeks, her slender hands balling into fists.

Steppenwulf's grin widened. "Touched a nerve did I? Lookin' awful flush there, kid. Oh? Oh…"

"Do you think…?" Pall said, grinning.

Stompah guffawed, clapping his huge mitts with a cannon-like report. "She'z sweet on Red Noitmare! GAW-HAW-HAW!"

"Sh-shut your fuckin' mouth!" Setty roared, her face hot. "Fuckers!"

"Aww, that's so cute~" Steppenwulf cooed, hands clasped to his furry, leathery cheeks. "You actually think a guy like Red would give a used-up pennyhooer like you the time of day? I mean, it's sad, really, but also cute!"

"Setty?" Barkley glanced at her. "What's he on about?"

Setty said nothing, her face darkening with rage and embarrassment, her fist clenching so hard they began to tremble.

"Setty…" Barrel said, his tone low. "Let's get outta here, yeah? Th-these guys ain't worth it."

"Fuck that!" Barkley snapped. "These're the guys what cut up Ixie! Messed up Trell! We can take 'em!"

Setty inhaled… and exhaled. She reached up and lifted Hanzel off her shoulders. "Hanzel, you think you can blip us out of here?"

Hanzel shook his head, not taking his eyes off the Vees. "N-not yet. Setty, I'm scared…"

"I know, buddy," she said, stroking his hair. "It's gonna be alright."

She glared at the Vees, taking the little imp by the hand. "C'mon boys. We're leaving."

The boys glanced at one another, Barrel looking pale, Barkley bristling. They turned to follow after her.

"Smart move," Pall said, shaking his head.

"Run on bak to yer Poppa, den!" Stompah sneered. "Givvim our best wishez! We'z gonna see yoo lot 'gain b'fore long!"

"Hey, Setty!" Steppenwulf called out. "Does he know how you feel? Does he even notice?"

Setty stopped in her tracks, shoulders tensing.

Steppenwulf grinned. "What's he gonna do when he finds out, huh? Do you really think he'd settle for damaged goods like you? Ha! Worse yet, what if he does? What's that say about him?"

"Setty…" Barrel moaned, his eyes wide in his pale, sharkish face.

"Oh! Maybe he already has!" Steppenwulf said, chuckling. "Is that it? Red like 'em young, does he? Can't say I'm surprised. That why you thought he'd let you get away with this stunt? Being Daddy's little bedwarmer has its perks, eh?"

Setty spun around, eyes blazing, the air around her rippling as her aura flared, her feet lifting off the ground, [Titanium] flaring to life around her, invisible to the Sinners.

"Setty, don't!" Barrel cried.

"Uh…" Steppenwulf arched an eyebrow, his jeering smile taking on a confused twinge. "That's new."

Stompah squinted, looking at her motionless wings. "Howz she doin' dat, den?"

"It's always fucking something with these brats!" Pall hissed.

Steppenwulf scoffed, shaking his head. "Alright, I gotta know. What's Red been feedin' you kids?"

The Sinner's head jerked to the side as Setty's fist smashed into it with a sonic boom, the floating succubus having spanned the meters between them in an instant. Her furious snarl slowly shifting into a rictus of shock. Steppenwulf was smiling, despite the armored fist in his face, wisps of vapor trailing from the impact site. "Besides dick, I mean."

The burly Sinner snapped his head to the side, sending her spinning backwards through the air. She stopped herself, staring incredulously at the unfazed gangster as he rubbed his cheek. She looked down at her armored fist; not her hardest, but she hadn't been holding back either.

"Y'know," said Steppenwulf, rolling out his neck and shoulders. "If that's the hardest you can hit, little girl, this ain't gonna go well for you."

She growled, clenching her fists, lunging at the gangster, fists a blur of motion. Steppenwulf's hands shot up, her knuckles smashing into his rock-hard palms over and over with a machine-gun's thunder. Steppenwulf didn't lose his casual, airy smile.

"Hey, you're pretty fast! If you knew how to fight, you might be annoying," He said, grabbing her wrists, gesturing with his snout at her as she levitated before him. "F'real ringscraper, the fuck is all this about?"

Setty struggled in his grasp, [Titanium]'s strength barely able to struggle against him. "Fuck you!"

"That an offer? Hold on, I think I got some pocket change on hand."

Setty snarled, her wrists phasing through his hands, going wide. She ghosted through his arms, fists slamming shut like a bear-trap around his head, over his pointed, wolfish ears. Steppenwulf yelped in surprise and pain, hands to his head. The succubus streaked down, smashing her fist into his solar plexus, hard as she could, causing him to grunt and double over. A meteoric kick to his lantern jaw sent him tumbling backwards, his gator-tailed rump bouncing on the pavement. Setty smiled, triumphant, only for it to vanish as the Faller locked her with a red, reptilian glare.

"Alright then," growled Steppenwulf, wiping the trickle of blood from his chin. "It's on."

A flicker of green energy passed between them: the duel was on.

The Sinner vanished in a puff of mist, reforming an instant later in front of her. Setty grunted as an immense fist smashed into her midsection, sending her hurtling backwards, carving a deep trench into the asphalt. Setty gasped, coughing as she rose from the street. Damn, he was fast, and strong, too, but she already knew that from their previous encounter. That hit hadn't hurt much but she still felt it, even through her Stand's armor. She rose into the air, tanking hits wouldn't do her any good here, she'd have to step up her phase-game.

She steadied her breathing and set off for Sinner: no way she was gonna lose to this scumbag!


Pall looked down at his phone, a bird's eye view of the area on the screen, courtesy of their imp in the sky, Puck. The smilodon-demon looked up to see the small four-rotored craft, piloted by the little imp.

"How's the air up there?" Pall asked the phone.

"Crystal clear, Teeth!" Puck replied. "Got the whole place mapped and synched to the app. Operation Whack-a-Mole is primed and ready!"

"Good work, Puck," he said, dryly. "We might need it."

"Yeah? What's going on?"

Pall sighed and shook his head as the succubus, somehow not obliterated by that punch, inexplicably rose from the ground, not so much as a scratch on her. "Fuck me, man. When I find out, I'll tell you."

"And here I thought you were a tough bitch before!" Steppenwulf called, shaking out his fist as he marched towards her. "Like punching Wrath Steel! Good. I don't want you breaking too soon!"

"Hey!" A voice called out, causing them both to stop and look. Leaning out a window of one of the apartment windows was a fancily-dressed baphomet, pointing. "Read the sign!"

They turned to see a large yellow street sign bearing a graphic of two horned figures engaged in combat within a slashed circle, underneath it read 'absolutely NO dueling outside of designated areas between 6:00am-6:00pm: violators will be fined'.

Steppenwulf glanced at his watch: 3:30pm. "Damn. Sorry!"

"If you dipshits are gonna scrap, do it in the dueling park!" The baphomet cried, pointing to a large gated park across the street, it was littered with immense empty structures, vehicle hulks, and various other features.

"Doolin' park," said Stompah, whistling. "Rit-zee place, dis is."

"Fully stocked, too," said Pall, impressed. "Lots to smash up."

"Right so," Steppenwulf said, materializing behind Setty. "C'mon girlie!"

Setty barely had time to react before the Sinner swatted her out of the air, sending her careening into the park, bouncing across the reinforced concrete ground.

"Someone better pay for that road!" The baphomet bleated.

"Pall!" Steppenwulf barked, leaping high into the air and into the park. "Take care of it!"

Pall portaled up to the baphomet's living room, handing the incensed goat-creature a Vees calling card. "Call this number here, give them this complaint code, tell 'em the sitch and we'll hammer something out."

The citizen nodded, pulling out his Hellphone. "I'll have to inform the strata, but thank you."

"The Vees are friends of Little Wrath, sir," said Pall, opening a portal and stepping through it. "Please consider voting for our candidate in the next election!"

"What, that Jew!?"

Pall closed the portal and looked about at the dueling park and whistled. The place was indeed swank! It was made up to look like an abandoned city, with empty concrete shells for buildings, beater cars, dilapidated garbage trucks, street sweepers, road-rollers, and on and on. Topped off with oil barrels, propane tanks, and crates of dynamite. Pall mused that it was probably a good deal cheaper for the neighborhood to maintain these dueling areas than it was to clean up the city after.

'This could catch on,' thought Pall. 'I should float the idea to my 'hood later.'

A thunderous impact shook the ground. Pall turned around to see Steppenwulf and Setty getting at it. The girl was hitting her stride, it seemed, landing vicious calculated blows, only getting tagged when Step surprised her, and even then to little effect. Steppenwulf was right: if this brat actually knew how to fight properly, fighting around these powers rather than just with them, she'd be a real pain in the ass. The fact that she was even alive at this point was utterly baffling!

Somehow, the bitch had managed to get herself superpowers! Go figure. That sort of thing was hardly uncommon Down Here, as there was a sundry list of enchantments, artifacts, and rituals that could put a little extra starch in one's pants. But usually just one buff at a time, and even then there was always a tell; a glowing artifact or gee-gaw on their person, wing-dings in the air about them, corrupted black veins, that sort of thing. Not so with this kid. The notion that a ringscraper orphan could get ahold of any of the enchantments he knew of was outrageous, much less the mystery combo-platter the girl apparently had!

Steppenwulf held the girl in a crushing bearhug, preparing to suplex her or some such. She ghosted through his torso, coming out his back and unleashing a flurry of punches into his kidneys. He laughed and thrust his hips back, impacting her midsection with his rock-hard buttocks before sending her flying with a swipe of his spiky gator tail.

"Noice combo, Step!" Cheered Stompah, turning to Pall. "Dis iz fun, innit? Whoda fot th' li'l floozee's been joosin', too?"

"Hasn't been just us level-grinding, that's for sure. So that's levitation, super strength, super-speed, and she's not taking any damage, so some kind of shield or barrier?"

The girl tumbled through the air towards a beater car, slipping through the solid matter like it wasn't even there, lifting the car up over her head and speeding towards Steppenwulf, roaring.

"An' that fing, too," said Stompah, scratching his chin as Steppenwulf evaporated before the car came smashing down. "One o' dem 'intanjibles' innit?"

"Yeah. No-clip," said Pall, as Steppenwulf rematerialized behind her, smashing the back of her head with a double hammer-strike, causing her to grunt and slam into the concrete, punching a deep, cracking crater into it. "Classic phasing-type. Though it seems to be limited in some way."

"Yeh, wen she's in 'er 'ead, she can finn-ess it real stoilish. But surpriz 'er or rattle 'er like Step jus' did, an' she's solid. Loik she can onlee do it wen finkin' to."

"Yeah. You can get her into a stun-lock pretty easy."

"Nurd."

Steppenwulf streaked down, fist cocked and wreathed in a hard, glittering material, unleashing a brutal haymaker into the recovering girl's back, punching a new, deeper crater into the ground in an explosion of dust.

"Oof!" Stompah hissed, wincing. "Didja see dat? Step's bustin' out 'is Shinehide!"

"Brat must be real tough," mused Pall, pointing at the girl, now significantly more tattered and dazed. "Look at that! Even with Shinehide, he's only scuffing her up! Whatever she's got, it can even protect from holy metal! To an extent, anyway."

"Lessee 'ow much," chortled Stompah.

Steppenwulf set a Shinehide-clad hand on her chest, raising his other fist. The surrounding vehicles and rubble shuddered and jumped with dozens of additional shockwaves, the crater exploding anew, widening. A steady heartbeat thudded through the ground as Steppenwulf pummeled the succubus. After several seconds, the seismic event ceased, leaving only a huge, towering cloud of atomized concrete reaching skyward from the hole.

"I think that's it…" Pall nodded, squinting through the curtains of dust obscuring the epicenter of the crater; Steppenwulf stood knee-deep in powderized concrete, pawing at the ground for a sign of the girl. "Hold on. Where'd she go?"

"Buried? Crumped ta dust, mebbe?"

A shadow cast over them. They looked up to see Setty, her clothing tattered, face marred with scrapes and bruises, a 20-ton two-drum road roller over her head, her eyes blazing. With a furious bellow, she hurled the thing at highway speeds down on the Sinners.

"FUKKIN' METAL!" Stompah bellowed, ecstatically throwing up the horns. "SHE'S SO KOOL!"

"Welp," said Pall as he created a portal under his feet, slipping away just as the road roller crashed down right into Stompah's spellbound face.

The speeding mass of steel shattered the ground, pushing the side of the crater inwards. Steppenwulf looked up to see an avalanche of concrete, rebar, and heavy equipment bore down on him.

"Fuck."

Pall stepped out of a portal on the other side of the street, examining the mass of debris and twisted metal filling the 10-meter wide crater. "You okay, Stompah?"

A lump of rubble the size of a car shifted, a green arm emerging and shooting a thumbs up before requesting '1-second'.

"Take your time," said Pall, smirking. "Li'l Miss Badass here needs a breather, dontcha?"

Across the street was Setty, her red skin slick with sweat, her left eye swelling, on its way to becoming a proper shiner, her cheek bruised and bleeding, a trickle of black blood from a split lip dripped down her chin. She stood on the ground, hunched over, panting heavily.

She glared at him. "I'm just… g-getting warmed up, titfucker."

"Oh, are you?" said a voice. "Then let's kick it up a notch, babe."

Curtains of vapor rose from the rubble, coalescing into a robust shape. Steppenwulf reformed, not so much as a scratch on him. "Pall, Stompah, feel free to tag in."

"Pass," said Pall, lighting a cigarette. "All yours, Step."

"OOH! OHH!" A low, clotted voice bellowed. "ME! ME ME ME! LEMME AT 'ER!"

The crumpled remains of the road-roller burst up from the crater, flipping through the air like a tin can, crashing down a ways up the street. Stompah came scrambling out of the crater, his lower lip split and bleeding, one of his snaggle teeth missing, grinning with child-like glee.

The Sinners stood opposite the street of the exhausted succubus, Steppenwulf cupped a hand to his ear, glaring at Setty, a vicious grin on his face. "Hear that, babe? It's my boss music, and your funeral dirge."

"Haw!" Stompah barked. "Yeh! Soundz loik… folk moozik?"

Steppenwulf blinked, his smile vanishing; he actually could hear music. "What the…?"

Around the corner strode a doberman hellhound pup, fingers strumming effortlessly on a guitar, his expression flat and filled with hate.

"Wot's all dis den?" Stompah scoffed. "Anuvver brat? 'Ey, kid! Ya wanna see a ded body?"

The pup's eyes narrowed as he glared at the greenskinned demon, his voice a low growl. "I'm lookin' at one."

A pause hung in the air.

Pall nodded, impressed. "Nice…"

"Can I keep 'im, Step?" Stompah said, excitedly. "I'll feed an' walk 'im erryday! I shall call 'im Squiggy, and 'e shall be mine, 'e shall be my Squiggy!"

"The name's Barkley, chumps. Remember it, cuz I'm gonna be a star!" Barkley said, smiling toothily, strumming on the guitar. "I'm callin' this one 'Time's Up, Faller Fuckers'."

"Oh, is it?" Steppenwulf snorted, rolling his eyes. "What? You gonna rock out so hard we'll run away?"

"Something like that," said Barkley as a remora kid ran up behind him, in his hands a pair of amps. His fingers set upon the chords with eerie, natural grace, the original music filling the air with confident, aggressive notes.

"'E's pretty good, ackchully," said Stompah, cracking his knuckles. " I'll jus' crump 'im a li'l bit b'fore takin' 'im 'ome. Break his legs so's he can still–OW!"

Steppenwulf and Pall looked to see Stompah flinch, an angry red welt crossing his face, bleeding in places. "What? Stompah, what's–FUCK!"

Steppenwulf jumped as something hard and sharp slashed across his rump, coming dangerously close to breaking the skin.

"It's the mutt!" Pall cried. "He's like her! He's got pow–OOF!"

A low note sounded as Pall's gut cratered, knocking the slender demon off his feet.

"Oh, it's always somethin' with these fuckin' kids…" Steppenwulf grumbled, flinching as a sharp note whipped at his cheek. "OW! Cut it out!"

"Barkley! Barrel!" Setty cried running up to them. "What are you doing?! Get out of here!"

"Not without you, Setty!" Barrel replied, setting the amps down at Barkley's feet, plugging it in and cranking the dials. "'Donna kids stick together!"

Steppenwulf ducked out of the way of another slashing note. "Ha! It's just sound! That's way too slow for me, kiiIIGH!" Steppenwulf was lifted off his feet by his underwear by a warbling motif, his immense bulk stretching the fabric into a hard, narrow strand, digging deep. He dropped back down, bent over, wheezing. "A w-wedgie? Really? L-little shit…"

"I'll take care of these chumps, Setty, don't you worry!" Barkley said, stepping out in front of Setty. "Make 'em work, Bucket!"

The remora grinned and plugged the guitar into the amps, slapping them both. The music filled the air as the amps, somehow, sprang to life. The simple strummed music now blasting, filling the air.

"They say music can bring people together!" Barkley called out over the din, his eyes flashing red. "NOW LET'S SEE IF IT CAN TEAR 'EM APART!"

"Aw Hell," grunted Pall as he got to his feet, hurriedly sorting through the assortment of amulets around his neck, grabbing one and activating it. "Pleaseworkpleaseworkpleasework!"

"Shud we, loik…" Stompah muttered as he felt the air grow heavy, dense, whistling as vectors swirled around them on the soundwaves. "Do sumfin' 'bout dis?"

"What, you worried, Stomp? Besides…" Steppenwulf smirked and crossed his arms. "…I like this song."


Setty watched, amazed. In retrospect, it made sense that Barkley's [CeeLo Green] could not only work through a speaker, but get exponentially more powerful with volume. Arby had tried to explain it to her in his typically dry, nerdy way. Inverse-square Law, he called it. Sufficiently dumbed down for her to understand, the intensity of a wave, like sound, dropped off significantly with distance. Arby surmised it was the same with Stands. Powerful, concentrated Stands like hers were more or less a second skin, with Stands like Syx's [D5H] could only project a few meters away from their user. Stands like Hanzel's [Black Forest] had seemingly no limit on range, but were too weak for use in combat. But [CeeLo Green] could ride on soundwaves, carried with them, and had an effective range of about 20 meters, getting stronger the closer it was to the source of the sound.

Apparently, when riding more powerful soundwaves it could reach out to that maximum with more power than she'd seen Barkley muster before.

Where the Vees had been standing there was now a flurry of destruction, the Sinners long since obscured by the ruckus. Dust whirled about, the vectors visible though it as they cut and smashed, slashed and whipped. Barkley bobbed along with the heavy beat, his eyes distant as he poured his soul into his performance, body bobbing along with the beat, the virtuoso busker losing himself in his craft. The fast, heavy notes ripped through the air, underscored by the whistles and cracks of his sharp vectors and the concussive thuds of his blunt ones. Concrete, metal, and pavement was shredded, crushed, pulverized over and over until they mixed together in the air as smoke-fine dust that clustered swirled together like a tornado.

For the denouement, Setty saw the vectors coalesce into dozens of hands, grabbing dozens of oil barrels, propane tanks, and crates of dynamite, whirling through the vortex before being slammed down on the epicenter where the Sinners stood. Barkley roared in triumph as he polished off the last ripping notes of the song, a flash of green light flashed within the vortex, scattering in an immense explosion. A wall of flame surged towards, only to break and flow around a barrier of solid air crafted by Barkley.

"Whoa…" Setty said, wincing at the heat surging from the roaring emerald inferno consuming the street. "Holy shit, Barkley…"

"A good showman always ends a show with a bang," said Barkley, panting. "Toldja I w-was gonna be… a… star..."

The young hellhound tottered on his feet, falling over backwards on his rump, panting hard and fast.

"Barkley!" Barrel cried, rushing over to him. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, just peachy, Bucket," Barkley said, shoulders heaving. "J-just… phew! Never rocked out that hard with [CeeLo Green] before. Feel like I just ran here from the 'Donna!"

"That was incredible, Barkley!" Barrel cheered, clapping him on the shoulder. "You turned those Fallers to ash!"

"Th'power of music, Bucket," said Barkley, a weak, triumphant smile on his face. "C'mon, let's get back to Hanzel. I'm spent."

"Yeah, let's get the fuck outta here…" Setty said, hissing in pain as she bent over to help him to his feet. "Ach! Fuck."

"You okay, Setty?" Barkley said as he took her hand. "You look pretty roughed up."

"I've had worse," she said, her upper body felt like a mosaic of bruises and scrapes. "Fucker just had some holy metal or something. Guess it takes that shit to scuff the polish on my [Titanium]."

"Angel metal?" Barrel said, his eyes starry. "You got wailed on with Angel metal and you're just a little banged up! You're so cool, Setty!"

"The Baddest Bitch at the 'Donna!" Barkley cheered.

She smirked at this, guiding her fanboys to the exit of the dueling park. "I sure feel pretty bad…"

A sound carried through the air that sent a cold shiver up their spines: slow, deliberate clapping.

"Where're ya goin', superstar? Encore! Encore!" Steppenwulf cheered, clapping harder, faster. "C'mon now, Vees! That performance deserves a standing ovation!"

The kids slowly turned around, their faces pale with horror. Standing where they had been were the Vees. Steppenwulf clapped, his mighty frame a bloody tatters, his hide hanging off in several places, stripped right down to the bone. Half his face had been shorn off, his crocodile teeth visible in a rictus, the remaining half pulled into a genuinely impressed grin. "Sick licks, Squiggy!"

Next to him was Stompah, less shredded than his leader, his tough green hide criss-crossed with deep slashes, contusions, and burns, his meaty paws slamming together in applause, stopping only to hook his fingers into his mouth and whistle. "Do ya play at parties? I gotz sum pals comin' in frum outta town tomorrah!"

Lastly was Pall, pristine, untouched, a glowing orange sphere encapsulating the sharply dressed Sinner, one of the many amulets around his neck glowing steadily. He smiled smugly, his applause a good deal more sarcastic than his companions. "I'm more of an Electro-Swing guy, myself."

"You alright, Pall?" Steppenwulf said, impressed. "Damn, and here I thought you were crazy shelling out for that enchanted bling."

"Level Five Satanus Sanctorum," replied Pall, deactivating the charm. "Worth every $oul."

"I stand corrected. Still, I won't be buying the fucking thing," said the shredded, bloody demon, turning to smoke, reforming an instant later completely unscathed, turning back to the kids. "I don't need 'em. Now, where were we?"

"Phwoar!" Stompah groaned, knitting his fingers together and reaching into the air, his bolder-like shoulders cracking and popping as the cuts, bruises and burns closed, fading away until gone. Even the tooth Setty knocked out had regrown. "Dat's a top-up, dat is! Da more damage I take, th'faster I 'eal, da stronger I getz. Fanks, Squiggy! Yool be a foin pet!"

"Setty…" Barrel croaked, his pale face white with terror. "Wh-what do we do?"

Setty said nothing, her eyes wide, harrowed: they couldn't beat them. Even with their Stands… they were just too powerful. Too well equipped. Too experienced.

Was she going to die here? After all she'd been through, was she going to get killed for sport by a bunch of mid-tier Fallers out on vacation? What of Barkley? Barrel? Would they go after Hanzel? Her fault. This was all her fault. Those poor, gullible boys were going to get killed, or worse, enslaved by cruel murderous thugs and it was all her fault!

"I…" she said, hot tears welling in her eyes. "Boys… I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got you into this. On the count of three, you two run to Hanzel and get to safety. I-I'll hold them off as long as I can."

"Setty, no!" Barkley cried, picking up his guitar. "I can help! I can–"

Barrel set a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head, eyes on the ground. Barkley whined and rushed up, wrapping his arms around her. "You're the coolest snoot I ever met."

"W-we'll get Mr. Nightmare, Setty!" Barrel said, briny tears pouring down his cheeks. "We'll get him, and he'll show these guys! I promise!"

Setty said nothing, her expression grim, but she nodded.

"Looks loik dey's fixin' ta scarpa," crooned Stompah, cracking his enormous knuckles. "Tch tch tch! Poor form, ickle wuns. Dis 'ere dool don't end 'til ya admit d'feet… or yur ded! Which'll be, den? Ain't no kallamari-Poppa t'save ya now!"

"Count of three…" muttered Setty, mustering her last ounce of strength and summoning [Titanium]. "One…"

Barrel and Barkley readied themselves.

"…Two…"

The Vees prepared to give chase, Pall moving to open a portal.

A truck down the street exploded into twisted metal shards as something huge and heavy smashed down from on high. A wheel rim bounced down the road, rolling about in front of the Vees before toppling on its side. All six looked up the street as a figure strode out of the smoke and dust.

"Is that…" said Barkley, his fear evaporating.

"Praise be to Leviathan," said Barrel, falling to his knees, hands clasped in prayer. "Praise be to She Who Wants, her envy of Death denying Him this subject. Praise be to Mammon, He Who Covets, for stealing this subject from Death's kingdom. Praise be to–"

"Uh…" Pall said, a grimace of fear spreading across his face. "Step? What's, uh, what're we, l-like, Step?"

"Bugga me," crooned Stompah. "An' 'e doff apeer."

"Red Nightmare," said Steppenwulf, grinning. "Took you long enough. We were startin' to think you weren't comin'."

Red Nightmare marched imperiously down the street, paying no mind to the Vees, making a beeline for the children.

"Red!" Setty cried out, rushing over to him. "I knew you'd–"

She was silenced by a flat, cold glare from the Sinner, his posture carrying no relief at her safety, no warmth, only icy, electric fury. Disappointment. In her. Setty shut her mouth, slouching as though under immense weight, eyes drawn to the ground, unable to meet his gaze.

"Mr. Nightmare, don't be mad at Setty!" Barkley exclaimed, running over and standing between them. "I-I know we wasn't s'posed to be up here, but we just thought that we could–"

"Get back to the muster point," said Red, his tone flat and hard as paving stones. "Now."

Barkley paled as much as possible through fur, his busker's bravado didn't so much as deflate like a balloon as it popped. His ears went flat against his head as he skulked off with Barrel, his tail between his legs. Setty remained, staring at the ground.

"Setty," he said.

"I can–"

"No. You can't," he interjected. "Get to safety."

Mustering her willpower, she forced herself to look up at him, quietly shocked at what she saw. Red was looking at the Vees, his lips pulled into a tight line: Red was… worried?

"Go," he said, tersely.

She did, running past him, looking back over her shoulder: since when was Red Nightmare worried about anything?


"We'z jus' lettin' dem leev, Step?" Stompah inquired, eyes darting back and forth between Steppenwulf and Red. "Wuzn't we doolin'? Dere wuz da green stuff'n evr'yfing."

"Duel's still on, Stomp," said Steppenwulf, smiling.

"Step, you can't be serious!" Pall cried, his expression that of dismay and absolute terror.

"Wot?"

"Legio ab Infernum page 667, paragraph four, subsection-D: regarding Pacts…" Pall said, words suffused with dread. "In the event of a duel or deal between two parties, the resulting Pact can be transferred to the employer or masters of one or both of said parties."

"Uh, Step…?" Stompah muttered, paling somewhat. "Yoo ackin' demickey?"

"Waddaya say, Red?" Steppenwulf called out. "Care to pick up the tab?"

Red looked to be snapped out of some manner of contemplation. "Excuse me?"

"Your kids started somethin' they didn't get to finish," said Steppenwulf. "This here's a dueling park, that little hole kicked off a duel. Hell's laws have it that you can take it up for 'em. What say you?"

Red studied Steppenwulf for a beat, his expression that of frustration twinged with perplexment. "…Seriously?"

Steppenwulf smiled.

Red Nightmare sighed, hand on his hip as he massaged his temples with the other. "Look, Fido, now's not a good time. My employees just kicked the hornet's nest big time and I need to hustle if I'm to head off a situation. I don't have time to humor your delusions. Tell your bosses I'm not making moves out here. This was all just a misunderstanding, clear?"

Steppenwulf chuckled and shook his head. "My bosses? Naw, Red, you got it all wrong. We ain't here on business. We're here for pleasure. A bit of R'n'R away from the Front. This is personal, between me and those ringscraper brats of yours. The duel's gotta play out, them's the rules. Either you take it on yourself, or give me the girl and let us finish. And I promise you, when I beat her and make her mine… I'm gonna take my time breaking that little bitch in every way I can. I'll record it, post it online. Shit, I might even be able to get Valentino to lend me a studio and some talent. Howzat sound?"

"Step," hissed Pall, disgusted. "The fuck."

"Just a bit'a banter, Teeth. T'get him in the mood," muttered Steppenwulf out the corner of his mouth. "I'm just gonna kill her, promise."

"Oh, alright then."

Red Nightmare glared at him from across the street, his expression flat, dark, ominous like an encroaching thunderhead. "Alright then. This won't take too long, I suppose. I accept."

A flashing arc of green Pact energy flashed between them: the duel had been transferred.

"I'm disappointed," said Red, his Seraphim Steel gauntlets flashing into existence. "I wanted this little game of ours to continue. But if you're in such a screaming rush to die, I suppose I can swallow my pride and oblige."

"I think you'll find us full of surprises, Red," said Steppenwulf, cracking his knuckles. "See, this whole time we've been at the Front. Fightin', killin', and lootin'. All that struggle and hardship, those near-death experiences, it was training. For this. I think you'll find…"

Steppenwulf vanished in a puff of mist. Red Nightmare's eyes went wide as a glittering fist smashed into his unprepared gut with the force of a fully loaded runaway freight train. The shockwave scattered debris on the ground, sent car hulks tumbling away, and shook the reinforced concrete faux-buildings on their foundations. Red grunted, a look of utter shock on his pale pink face as he looked down to see Steppenwulf grinning up at him. The sea-demon's mouth opened, a small gush of green-black blood spraying out with a pained wheeze, splattering on Steppenwulf's muzzle.

He chuckled and licked up the blood, eyes shining. "…That this ol' dog has learned some new tricks."

Uh, yeah, Red? I don't think your newfound appreciation for the culinary arts is gonna serve you well here.