Night fell over the corrupted town of Scornpeak. The residential lowlifes and criminals retreated into their dwellings for the night, leaving behind a few bodies caught in the skirmish of their latest altercation. Nights were restless. Everyone had to keep alert, never knowing when their fellow criminals will turn up to take what's theirs, be it by theft or death.

The minutes ticked by, the hour of midnight soon approaching. Those who remained awake in the bewitching hours of the night, they prepared for a skirmish of their own in hopes of seeing the next sunrise.

The Broken Glass Alchemical Company, plus Amos, had finished their group project for tonight's meeting. Evelot finished sealing off the inconspicuous package and handing it over to Phoebe, who carefully carried it across the storehouse and deposited it on top of another stack of packages beside the door.

She wiped her brow and sighed. "That's the last of them."

Amos glared. "You sure this'll work?"

She smirked. "Naturally. All those idiots need to do is open one of these packages, and they'll set off the unstable Rainbow and turn themselves into scorched mush. Simplistic."

Amos grunted. "They're expecting barrels of this stuff, though."

"I can spin a few yarns to convince them of the mode of transportation. Besides, not like it'll matter how it comes. They'll want to check it's inside, anyway."

Evelot hopped out of her seat. "A fight is almost definitely going to break out if they suspect foul play." She shuddered. "I-I'm having second thoughts about all this. W-What if something goes wrong? Y-You could get hurt if they open the package too close."

Phoebe shrugged. "Eh, I won't give them the chance. Besides, if a fight does break out, I'll just shoot them dead." She smirked at Amos. "More than I can say about you since you can't fire a gun normally."

Amos glared. "I can still fight."

"Oh, I'm sure. You'll make a nice meat shield when I go for the kill."

"Hmph." He reached for one of the nearby shelves and picked up Phoebe's spiked bat. "You're not going to kill me that easily."

"Then you better not get in my way. I tend to get reckless when I go for the kill." Phoebe picked up her rifle and strapped it over her back. "As for you, Evelot, do you think you can keep a straight face long enough for me to make the exchange?"

She gulped and shivered. "I-I suppose. A-Are we sure this'll work? W-We still don't have a plan for when someone comes looking for Thatcher after we kill him. We'd have to make hasty preparations before we flee the town."

Phoebe waved it off. "I'll worry about the details later. There's no getting out of this." She glared at the broken wall clock as the hands ticked closer to the stroke of midnight. She scoffed. "I can't count the times I've wanted to put a bullet through Thatcher's head. I never dreamed I would have the chance to leave this rotten town." She shrugged. "Then again, we'd end up in another rotten town, but I could use some variety in my life."

Amos looked at his severed wrist, then glared at Evelot. "And you're sure this MacGyver fellow can get me a new pincer?"

Evelot whimpered. "W-Well, that's what we're betting on, right?"

"…" He propped the bat over his shoulder and huffed. "Good. Once I'm back into fighting condition, I'm going to give Dr. Underhill a piece of my mind. If he thinks I'm going to die out here, then he doesn't know how vindictive I can get."

Phoebe smirked. "Enough talk. It's showtime~."

Midnight. The time of complete darkness. The hour of hauntings, some may call it. A turning point into the new day before the rise of a new dawn. The perfect atmosphere for villainy to spread its malevolent wings.

Through the silent night and chilling air, a low light roamed through the streets of Scornpeak, making its way to the abandoned storehouse housing the town's only source of medical care. If anything went awry in tonight's meeting, there may not be a doctor to call upon anymore.

Thatcher and his thugs approached the door with Magcargo lighting the way with his lava-like body. Thatcher chewed on a toothpick, glaring the dilapidated building down as he searched the windows for any light source. His leafy fingers twitched and stretched around the dagger sheathed at his waist.

"That little rat's up to something," he grunted.

Golbat glared. "Then why did you agree to her deal in the first place?"

"Because that crybaby alchemist is the only one who knows the formula. If we did anything to Burkhard, she might kill herself and take the recipe to her grave. We can't have that. So, if they try to pull a fast one on us, I'm prepared to grab and deliver her to the boss. He'll be able to extract the formula from her."

Magcargo smirked. "And once she's neutralized, we can just kill Burkhard. Not a bad trade."

"As if I would ever trust a deal coming from that conniving Aipom." Thatcher scowled at the door. "I know what she's like. She's not someone that can be trusted to stay alive for too long." He raised his fist and delivered three swift knocks to the door.

The thugs waited a moment in silence, listening to the creaks and shifts of the floorboards inside. They listened as the barricade came undone and stepped back. Thatcher gripped his dagger and sent energy through his arm just in case.

The door pulled open, and Phoebe and Evelot stepped out. The Aipom, arms tucked behind her back, fluttered her eyelashes as she flashed a wide smirk at the flycatcher. "Hello, Thatcher~. Lovely night, isn't it?"

"Cut the crap, Burkhard," he growled. "You better have kept your word, because it may just be your last."

"Now, now, there's no need for violence. I'm an honest Aipom. I changed my ways from those days of harassment and trouble."

"You literally started a bar fight two days ago."

She shrugged. "Two days is still time to make amends."

He bent down and grabbed her by the collar. "Quit screwing around and hand over the formula and the recipe."

She glared before shoving his hand away. "Rude. Fine, fine!" She reached under her dress and pulled out a scroll wrapped in a red bow. "Here. That's the formula for Rainbow. Take it and get lost."

He swiped the scroll out of her hand. "I said hand over the formula, too."

She rolled her eyes. "Fiiiiine." She reached back inside the storehouse and produced a sealed package. "Hope you brought a wagon with you."

He glared. "What is this? I asked for barrels of this stuff."

"You get what you get on short notice. We've got at least twenty of these. I'm sure that'll be enough to please your boss." Phoebe stepped back into the storehouse and pushed out another stack of packages. "Each one of these contains fifty vials of Rainbow. I think that will be enough to satisfy until you can make your own."

"…" Thatcher glared at the boxes for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Get a wagon." Golbat saluted and flew off to retrieve one. He picked one of the boxes up and examined it. "Well, I have to admit, I'm surprised at you, Burkhard. I didn't expect you to sell out your friend's hard work so readily."

Evelot gulped. "Y-You didn't give us a c-choice."

Phoebe raised her arm over Evelot. "I'm just protecting her from you jerks."

Thatcher smirked. "Are we the ones you should be protecting her from? We're just doing our jobs. Her family is responsible for a lot of horrible things because of their research."

"…" Evelot looked down, trembling harder.

"My boss told me all about what the Faucher family did for a living. Frankly, I'm not surprised they were massacred for their search. Sounds to me they were the type of people to make enemies, even if their involvement was indirect. I have to wonder who you wronged so badly that it earned them a free trip to Hell." Thatcher's smirk grew. "I wonder if you'll be going down there with them."

"…" Evelot clenched her eyes shut and shuddered.

Phoebe growled. "Shut. Up. It doesn't matter what she did back then. You people aren't any better, so don't go acting like you have the higher ground."

"In case you've forgotten the dynamic around here, I am on higher ground. The Outlands can't function without some order to keep these idiots in check," Thatcher boasted. "Who knows? I might even become the official ruler of this place. My very own kingdom in this forsaken region."

Phoebe scoffed. "You? A king? Get real. You'd be killed the moment you made such a stupid demand."

Thatcher chuckled. "You forget. I have powerful connections. Fate sprung upon me with the deal of a lifetime. Get a few chores done here and there, keep my promises, and I'm looking to reap the rewards. It's that easy."

Phoebe smirked. "You have powerful connections? What a joke."

"Tsk." He leaned down and looked the Aipom in the eyes. "Are you familiar with a criminal organization that used to bring ruin to Virdis three decades ago?"

Magcargo raised his brow. "Uh, boss? Should you really be talking about there here?"

Thatcher smirked. "What's the harm? This little bitch doesn't have any sway out here."

Phoebe glared. "Criminal organization?"

"A group of powerful people working to change the course of history and bring a new order to Virdis. I'm one of many who earned favor with them. Many dangerous bounty hunters are under their payroll. We rule the Outlands from the shadows, and we gather the manpower and resources to get them back on top. I can do whatever I want out here, and I'll have their power to call on should anyone oppose me. Like a king calling for his loyal knights to dispatch his enemies."

"…" Phoebe relaxed her arms and deepened her glare. "Someone's been making deals in the Outlands to revitalize a long-forgotten organization?"

Thatcher's smirk grew. "You should pick your allies wisely, Burkhard. It'd be a mistake to make enemies out of…Last Autumn."

"…" She backed off, her gaze darkening.

"Heh." He leaned in closer, laughing deeply. "Now do you see the power we possess?"

"…You're working with Last Autumn, eh?" she mumbled.

"Exactly—"

BANG!

Something fired from within the storehouse and shot through the package Thatcher was holding. His eyes widened, following the smoking trail of the bullet, which had curved around an unmoving Phoebe and a trembling Evelot. He then looked down at the package as light started to shine from within.

Phoebe scoffed. "That's all we needed to hear. Evelot, now!"

"Ph-Phantom Force!"

Thatcher gasped as the Mimikyu suddenly grabbed Phoebe and dragged her into the shadows. He felt the box trembling in his hands as a reaction went off inside. He quickly chucked the box into the air and hurriedly pushed Magcargo to the ground.

The box ruptured, releasing a powerful blast of rainbow light that scorched the air. Though they were out of the blast's epicenter, the heat and magnitude of the explosion struck down on their backs and slammed their faces into the ground under the intense pressure. The blast ripped the storehouse apart, taking apart the roof and part of the front wall near instantly.

The light died down, and the trembling ceased.

"AGH!" Thatcher pressed his hands down and picked himself up, snarling through great pain. The back of his jacket was blown out and burnt to pieces. His back was scorched black from the heat of the explosion with bubbles of green ooze leaking and dripping off. "SH-SHIT!"

Magcargo, having taken shelter under his shell, avoided the worst of the explosion. Upon sticking his head out, he surveyed the area in disbelief. "We've been set up! They're trying to escape!"

"N-No…" Thatcher growled. "Th-That wasn't an escape attempt. W-We've found ourselves in the middle…of an assassination." He stood back on his grassy tendrils and snarled. "Those two…!"

Golbat hurriedly flew back to the destroyed storehouse, gasping as the destruction before him. "What the hell did I miss?!"

"Forget it!" Thatcher yelled. "Spread out and hunt those bitches down! I'm going after the other one!"

Magcargo glared. "The…other one?"

"That shot came from within the storehouse. They have an accomplice." He pointed out toward the town. "Don't let them get the drop on you. Kill them on sight."

Magcargo and Golbat nodded and hurried off into town. Thatcher stumbled up the remaining wall of the storehouse and pressed his hand against it to support himself. He breathed raggedly, taking a moment to shake off the pain. He felt himself up for any more damage, but stopped when his hand passed over something in his jacket.

It was the recipe scroll given to him by Phoebe.

He pulled it out and unfurled it, skimming over the text. His eyes narrowed, and his growls dripped with venom. "I gave you a chance, Burkhard. Now you get to see what happens when you play with the big boys." He threw the scroll aside and advanced into the destroyed storehouse.

The scroll fell before the entrance, bearing its glorious message for all who passed by.

Go suck a lemon, you blowhard!

Love and Hate, Phoebe Burkhard

Thatcher pushed down the destroyed door and stepped through the ruins of the storehouse. He peered around through the darkness, not a trace of light from anywhere. He could make out the odd shapes of the aisle shelves that stood up against the blast.

"Tch. Power Whip." His arm glowed bright green and extended outward. With a sweeping swipe across the room, he smashed apart the shelves in a single blow, scattering vials and trash over the floor. He retracted his arm and continued investigating. "You've got some nerve teaming up with Burkhard. I didn't think anyone would be willing to give that devil woman the time of day. Then again, you people eat up her daily gossip more than you devour each other. What did she promise you to turn against me?"

He made his way to the back, where he found a table lined up in the door's pathway. He noticed something sitting on top of it and leaned down to inspect. It was hard to make out in the dark, but feeling up the object indicated it was a revolver rigged to a mechanism. He trailed his fingers over the revolver before finding his way to the trigger, where a wire was connected to it.

"…Unless you're not from this town," Thatcher mumbled. He straightened up and leered at the darkness around him. "What spurred Burkhard to ask questions about my employers? I wouldn't put assassination past her, but now I'm wondering if she's got something else on her mind."

He extended his Power Whip again, smashing across the floor and sweeping aside the remaining shelves. He retracted his arm and advanced toward the backrooms. He pulled out his dagger, casually juggling it in his hand.

"You might as well come out and confess your part in this. I want to look you in the eyes before I snuff the life out of—" He stopped and winced as something breezed over his face, stinging his eyes. It was too dark to see what grazed him. "Agh! What the…?"

He rubbed his eyes, only making the stinging worse. Something was scratching at his cornea like tiny knives. His eyes watered and reddened as he continued rubbing them. He pressed his hand to the wall and balanced against it as he let his tears run the offending matter from his eyes.

He felt more particles grazing over his skin. Peeking one eye open and focusing on the darkness, he cupped his hand against the breeze and saw particles of sand building up in his palm.

"A…sandstorm?" he grumbled.

"You're too confident in yourself. Coming in here in the dark."

Thatcher spun around at the sound of the voice, only to get clobbered across the face with a spiked bat. The spikes dug into his skin before he flew back against the wall, collapsing hanging shelves and dropping glass over his head. Glass shards dug into the top of his head, making him roar out in pain. He extended his Power Whip and swiped across the storehouse, smashing up everything in front of him and destroying the workstation in the corner.

"It's funny," the voice chattered. "Grass-Types excel in the sunlight, yet that very light is also the power source for their greatest weakness. In darkness, you can't draw out your full potential. No time of day is truly safe. The darkness is where I reside, however."

Thatcher wiped the glass off his head and looked around. "Who dares—" A second blow struck down on the top of his head, flattening his face into the floorboards. He felt the spikes ripped out from his head, tearing open his leafy flesh. Green blood spurted out from his head and ran down his grievous back wounds. "AGH!"

He glared over his shoulder and found his tormentor landing over the destroyed shelves. With the spiked bat propped over his shoulder, the murderous Gligar stared down the Carnivine with an irritated scowl.

"The man who's going to tear Last Autumn down. That's who."

Golbat took to the skies, surveying the rooftops for the missing women while Magcargo slowly followed through the streets. He looked up and shouted, "Did you find them?"

"Not yet!" Golbat yelled. "Do you think Thatcher was overestimating them?"

"No. That Mimikyu isn't a fighter. I can't imagine she could travel far in the shadows. Plus, even if she willingly let herself be dragged through, I don't think Burkhard can remain in the Phantom Force for too long. They're going to pop out any second now."

Golbat squinted through the darkness, his superior night vision piercing through the impenetrable shadows. "Heh, what's Thatcher even afraid of? What's she going to do when I'm all the way up—"

BANG!

Golbat barely reacted in time as a shot rang out through the sky. He twisted his body, feeling the hot metal of a bullet slice his cheek open. He glared down at the rooftops and spotted the mischievous Aipom hiding behind a chimney with the barrel of her rifle smoking.

"I found her!" He tucked his wings in and dove.

"Flamethrower!" Magcargo breathed fire at the rooftop.

Phoebe tucked her gun behind herself and took off running, narrowly avoiding the stream of flames. She leapt between the houses while Golbat pursued her from the skies. She noticed himself inhaling and jumped out of the way of his Supersonic.

"Hold stillllllllll!" Golbat screamed, firing off another Supersonic.

Phoebe jumped off the roof, clinging to the side with her tail, and let the sound waves fly over her. She cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, "What's the matter, bat breath? You're not slowing down because of an infection, right? Can't stomach a rotten ear?"

Her voice projected further out from its source, its whispering sound reaching up to Golbat and flying past his ears like he was being spoken to directly. He growled and frantically shook his head. "Cease your taunting, you little bitch!" Unbeknownst to the bat, a dark aura briefly blazed around his body.

Phoebe smirked and flung herself back into sight. She loaded a bullet into her rifle and took aim as she flew up. Golbat spotted her and preemptively flew out of the way before the shot was fired. The bullet pierced through the roof followed by a shocked scream coming from below.

"Oops~," she mumbled with a snicker before landing.

Golbat flew straight for the Aipom and fired off another Supersonic. Phoebe jumped out of the way again and hid on the side of the building. Once again, she cupped her hands together and whispered taunts that reached the bat's ears.

"You sure you didn't blast yourself? Oh, my mistake. I forgot you were a mistake made by your parents. Probably because you were born with shit for brains."

Golbat growled and furiously beat his wings. "Shut up! SHUT UP!" He continued on firing his Supersonic, swiping it across the rooftops, but his high-pitch shriek lessened in power as he continued. A dark aura once more blazed around his body as his attack weakened in power. He stopped firing and panted softly. "W-What the…?"

Phoebe peeked out back onto the roof and aimed her rifle. Right as she squeezed the trigger, a burst of flame came at her. She kicked off and narrowly avoided the flames, landing in the street and meeting eyes with Magcargo.

He huffed some flames before glaring her down. "That little trick won't work on me. Your Mocking Whisper."

Phoebe smirked. "Oh no, and all I have left is this gun!" She aimed and fired, blasting a hole through his head. "Suck it, bastard!"

Her eyes widened as Magcargo's head gradually reformed itself. He shook his head a couple times, regaining his bearings, and glared at her once more. "I'm sorry, was that supposed to do something?"

She grimaced. "Ah shit…"

"My body is composed mainly of lava. You aren't going to hit anything vital with those shots."

"…" She glared. "Maybe not, but you're not invincible." She looked down her ironsides and loaded a second bullet. "I wonder what would happen if I destroyed that shell of yours."

He narrowed his eyes. "See for yourself. Lava Shell Release!"

Her eyes widened as Magcargo's shell suddenly glowed with heat building up inside. He retracted into it before bursting it open, sending a wave of heat over the ground that caused it to melt into molten rock. Phoebe shielded herself from a splash of heat passing over her. When she recovered, she gasped as Magcargo suddenly sprung at her with greater speed. He tore through the ground, melting it on contact and slithering like a lava snake. She jumped out of the way as he swiped past her, instantly burning part of her skirt.

He landed and curled himself up, hissing flames. "By combining Lava Plume and Shell Smash, I'm able to increase my external temperature twentyfold. With the combined benefits of Shell Smash, I'll burn you to ash." He lunged at her again.

Phoebe staggered back. "Evelot, now!"

A portal of darkness opened in front of her, and a light blue bullet fired from within. Magcargo twisted his body and dodged the bullet, which exploded into a cluster of ice on the ground. The brief distraction allowed Phoebe to leap back onto the rooftops.

Magcargo watched Evelot retreat back into her portal and appear beside Phoebe. "Playing defense? Very well."

Evelot gulped. "Ph-Phoebe…"

She held her arm in front of the Mimikyu. "Just stay near me and do exactly as I say—"

"Venom Fang Blade!"

They turned their eyes up as Golbat rained down projectile slashes of poison that rode on the wind. They jumped out of the way and leapt to the next roof over as the attack sliced open the building.

Phoebe growled. "This isn't going to be an easy fight."

Amos leapt across the ruined storehouse as Thatcher unleashed a flurry of Power Whips over the space, smashing down the walls and tearing the remainder of the ceiling open. He rode on the winds of his sandstorm, dodging around the unending stream of whip attacks, and dove for the floor. He kept low as Thatcher swiped over the debris and battered it out of the way.

"You're just begging to die if you think you can take on the Outlands!" Thatcher yelled as he reared his extended arms back. "Razor Whip Storm!" A storm of leaves wrapped around his arms. He swung forward and unleashed a dense hurricane of whip attacks that enveloped the storehouse.

Amos conjured more sand under his wings and took off into the air, escaping the ruined storehouse as the whip storm tore everything in its range down. He struggled to stay balanced in the air, pouring on more sandy wings on his stronger side.

"Tch. You don't seem that tough," Amos grunted.

However, his mockery didn't hold up as Thatcher's arms extended out from the leafy storm. Amos tried to escape his reach, but was caught by the ankle and dragged back to the ground. Thatcher swung over the storehouse and slammed Amos into the backyard, cracking the earth under him. He reared his arm up again and swung Amos to the front of the storehouse, smashing him into the middle of the road.

"AGH!" Amos cried.

Thatcher floated out of the wreckage, dusting himself off as he scowled at the Gligar. "You're wasting your time with those bitches. Why are you helping them?"

Amos pushed himself up and spat some blood out. "Don't get it twisted. They're helping me."

Thatcher smirked. "Then none of you will get to see the sunlight. Infested Twister!" He bent his head back and opened his mouth until it was completely flattened. A leafy tornado summoned from his gaping mouth, infested with millions of tiny insects that chirped in an obnoxious cacophony. He whipped his head forward and fired the twister at Amos.

"Sandstorm!" Amos released sand-covered winds from his body and fought back against the Carnivine's twister. It entered a stalemate, but the rough winds caused the insects to scatter from the twister and fly into the sandstorm. Amos gasped as the sandy winds turned black with the millions of insects nearing him.

"Become swallowed in my infestation!" Thatcher taunted.

Amos blasted sand under himself and launched into the air before the swarm could grab him. They kept crawling and ride up his sandstorm trail, forcing him to disrupt it and glide on the air as the swarm fell back to the ground.

Thatcher reared his arm back, extending and coating it with another swarm. "Infested Whip!" He fired his arm like a piston, reaching out for the airborne scorpion.

Amos released a puff of sand and flipped over the attack, wincing at the millions of bugs crawling over the arm. "Sick. Toxic!" He spat a glob of poison onto Thatcher's arm. "Now Venoshock!" He rapidly spat bullets of green liquid into the arm, but Thatcher immediately retracted it.

To the Gligar's surprise, Thatcher looked fine. He smirked, showing off his arm as the poison dripped off. The bugs, however, twitched on the ground before dissolving into a green mist. "Your poison won't be able to reach me so long as my Infestation is active. You could try stinging me, but it seems like you're unequipped for that."

Amos growled. If I could fire a gun properly, you wouldn't be laughing. "Venoshock!" He spat out another round of poisonous bullets.

"Infested Whip Storm!" He flailed his arms through the air, deflecting the toxic goop while keeping himself shielded behind his swarm. "Infested Fangs!" Pouring on the swarm through his arms, he fired the bugs into the air, molding their shape into a giant Carnivine with skittering teeth. Its size eclipsed the width of the road.

"Shit!" Amos launched himself through the air as the swarm followed after him, snapping its teeth whenever it neared him. He fired off quick bursts of sand to keep ahead, feeling the force of each snap of its teeth.

Thatcher snickered. "You seemed pretty confident earlier! What changed all of a sudden?!"

"Shut. UP!" Amos gathered the wind around his left pincer, turning the sand into blades. "Serrated Sandstorm!" He swung and fired off the hardened wind blades, slicing into the swarming puppet. However, it did little damage, and the bugs merely repaired what was sliced off.

Thatcher laughed cruelly. "Looks like you don't have a lot of power with your entire flight pattern off balance!"

Amos clenched his teeth and continued firing off Serrated Sandstorms, his efforts proving worthless as the bug puppet continued chasing him and powering through his attacks. It opened its gaping mouth again, getting in close to bite down on him in one snap.

"Got you!" Thatcher clasped his hands together like snapping teeth.

Right as the puppet's teeth came down on him, Amos spun in place and released a barrier of sharpened sand through the air. It pushed back against the crushing weight of the puppet and shredded the inside of its mouth open. The entire head blew apart, and the rest of the swarm collapsed with it.

Amos hung in the air, panting in relief. "Finally—"

"Infested Whip!"

The Carnivine's attack blindsided him, striking across his face and throwing him off balance. Thatcher grabbed his ankle and ripped him out of the sky, slamming him through the roof of a building across the street and dragging his face all the way to the ground.

"You can't escape me, little mercenary," Thatcher teased.

Amos held his head, groaning through the pain. His eyes widened as he felt a swarm of bugs crawling up his leg and spreading over his body. "What the—"

Thatcher snapped his fingers. "Infested Feast."

He suddenly screamed out in pain as millions of tiny mouths started biting into his skin. The pain grew as more of the swarm infested his body, reaching over his wings and to his neck. "AAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Thatcher, still holding onto Amos' leg, reeled him in. "Striking Whip!" Dark energy blazed off his hand. He swung and delivered an openhanded strike into Amos' face, throwing him back across the road and punching him through the opposing building. He reeled him in again and delivered the same attack, punching Amos through the upper level this time.

"You think you have what it takes to survive out here?!" Thatcher yelled, pulling Amos back in again. "You have no idea what monsters live out in these parts! Let me do you the favor of ending your miserable life with mercy!"

He was struck again and battered through the opposing building, smashing into the bedroom of a sleeping Vikavolt. The crash startled him awake as he looked to the giant hole in his wall.

"Oi! Who's wrecking my house?!" he yelled. "I'm gonna—"

Amos started being pulled back, but he managed to release a burst of sand and grab onto the Vikavolt's mandibles. The electric beetle gasped as he started being pulled, too, so he clung tight to his bed which was bolted to the floor. The swarm infesting Amos started crawling over his body, too.

"H-Hey! What the hell?! Let go of me!"

Amo growled. "Okay, no more playing nice."

"What are you—"

Amos suddenly lunged and bit down on the beetle's neck. He screamed out in pain as poison started rushing out of the bite wound. "W-W-WHAAAAAAAA—"

He tore the beetle's throat out, painting his face in poison and blood, before pulling something from under the infection. "Just because I can't fire a gun doesn't mean I don't have other resources!" He plunged something into the silently screaming beetle's neck.

"Think you can hold on forever?!" Thatcher yelled from outside.

Amos held on tightly until Vikavolt lost the will to fight back. They were both pulled out from the bedroom and back onto the street. Thatcher readied another Striking Whip, but stalled when he saw the extra weight he was pulling along.

"Offering me mercy?!" Amos shouted before kicking off from the Vikavolt.

Thatcher stumbled back after being tackled by the unconscious beetle. As he recovered, he noticed the beetle's neck and head glowing in a bright purple light with the left side of his face bulging out like a raging tumor. He couldn't scream or express his distress as the whole of his face became distorted in a mound of flesh.

"If I remember correctly—" Amos taunted.

Thatcher pushed the Vikavolt off and leapt out of the way before the beetle's body ruptured opened, releasing a devastating explosion that sent guts and blood flying all over the road. The blood and guts splattered over Thatcher, who screamed out in pain as the tainted blood burned at his skin.

"Showing mercy in the Outlands…is a death sentence!"

The battle waging outside became evident to the criminal town as many were roused from their deep slumber. However, some weren't quite as lucky to be woken up. One Vanillish floated out of bed, smacking his lips in a tired daze, and glared out his window.

"What in the world is going on out—"

The window suddenly shattered open with Phoebe and Evelot landing in the room. Grabbing the trembling alchemist, Phoebe bolted to the bedroom door and threw it open with her shoulder. "Can't talk! Running for our lives!"

Vanillish glared at the door. "Oi! What are you doing in my—"

The wall suddenly burst open where a streak of lava blasted into and passed through the Vanillish, leaving a trail of fire through the room as it chased after the fleeing women. The living snow cone screamed out in agony, his body set ablaze, and collapsed to the ground as his body melted away into a boiling puddle.

Phoebe jumped around a corner and threw herself down the stairs, barely avoiding the stream of lava hunting them down. She braced for landing with her tail and sprung back to her feet as the lava trail slithered down the stairs. Fire broke out along its path, spreading to the walls.

"He's gaining on us!" Evelot screamed.

"I know! I know!" she yelled back.

She darted into the kitchen, swiping up a handful of discarded knives, and threw them just as the Magcargo turned the corner. The knives struck his face, but the metal warped and melted as it sunk into his body. She used the brief distraction to throw herself out the window, wincing from the glass pressing into her back, and ran out into the street.

Magcargo crashed through the wall without resistance and continued his chase after the spry Aipom. "No use running, Burkhard. I'll never stop chasing you, not until your flesh has been devoured in my flames."

Phoebe growled. "Evelot, keep your arms around my neck!" The Mimikyu wrapped her arms around her while Phoebe skidded to a stop and pulled out her rifle. She pulled out a bullet glowing in a blue aura and loaded it into the chamber. "Devour this!" She pulled the trigger and fired.

Magcargo was nearly tempted to let the bullet hit him and fail, but immediately sensed something amiss. He narrowly bent himself out of the way right as the rifle fired, dodging a stream of pressurized water that sliced through the air and punched a hole through the burning building behind him. His right cheek steamed from being grazed by the aquatic aura.

"Incredible," he mumbled. "Whatever you did to that bullet, it increased the power of the energy stored inside. That would've certainly killed me." He glared. "Too bad I won't give you a second chance to use it." He rushed forward, performing zigzag maneuvers while flowing like rushing water.

Phoebe balanced on her tail and sprung herself into the air, narrowly avoiding the Magcargo. Evelot, however, screamed, "Phoebe! Above you!"

She glared up and found the Golbat looming over them. "Venom Fang Blade!" He fired off a myriad of toxic-coated wind blades at them.

Evelot quickly positioned herself between Phoebe and the attacks. She absorbed the brunt of their onslaught, which blasted them out of the air and back onto the scorched ground. Phoebe, upon landing, sprung back onto her feet and carried Evelot with her as Golbat chase them with an endless stream of poisonous blades.

Evelot's costume's head dripped with poison and hung limply against Phoebe. "Nnnooo! I have to fix that!" she cried.

Phoebe grimaced as Magcargo started leaping between the sides of buildings, swimming through them with a trail of destruction following behind him. "Do you have anything to slow that one down?!"

"Um, maybe, but not from that far away!"

Phoebe sidestepped another poisonous blade before turning her glare toward the sky. "I'm getting real sick of him!"

Golbat dove toward them, enlarging his fangs in a sinister red-purple aura. "I'm going to suck you two dry!"

"Oh, is Thatcher not available for you this week?!" Phoebe leapt out of the way, barely avoiding his snapping fangs. "Evelot, go hide! When you see your chance, do something about the fire slug!"

"B-Be careful." Evelot hopped off and disappeared into the darkness.

Phoebe pulled out her heated dagger and watched as the Golbat turn around. She kept track of Magcargo as he neared her position, preparing to launch himself at her. That's right, get a little closer.

"Time to die, Burkhard!" Magcargo lined himself up and launched toward her in a blazing aura.

Golbat flew close to the ground and presented his giant fangs. "Let me feast on your blood!"

Phoebe leapt up, dodging Magcargo's flaming tackle, and grappled with Golbat as he swooped her up into the air.

"Wha—HEY!" Golbat yelled as he tried to bat her off.

Phoebe flipped herself around him and sat on his back. "What's the matter? Can't bend that oversized mouth of yours around? I thought you were trying to kill me."

"Get off me!" He flew in place and tried to shake her off, but she held on tight. "GAH! What are you hoping to accomplish?!"

She held her dagger in a reverse grip. "Evening the playing field, for one." She reared her arm up and drove the blade into his wing.

Golbat seized up and screamed out in pain, feeling the hot metal tearing through his flesh and muscle. He could smell his own flesh being cooked under his nose and was horrified to think it smelled kind of appetizing. However, that brief feeling of hunger vanished as Phoebe pulled the dagger through his wing.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

She tore all the way down to his side before gripping into the burning wing with her tail and ripping it off. Blood sprayed from the bat's torched side. Smoke hissed off from his body and severed wing. Unable to maintain flight, he fell out of the air and spiraled toward the ground.

Phoebe kicked off his back right before crashing and briefly parachuted to the ground with her large skirt. She holstered the dagger and grinned triumphantly over the squirming bat, holding his severed wing over him. "Well, would you look at that? You're less than useless now."

Golbat lifted his head with anger and tears burning in his eyes. "I'LL KILL YOU!" He jumped to his feet and rushed her down with his empowered fangs.

She whipped out her rifle and slammed the barrel into the inside of his mouth. Pulling the trigger, she blasted a hole through his back and knocked him away. Golbat trembled in a daze as blood poured down his body. He could barely stay conscious.

"Not the last words I would've gone with, personally," Phoebe mocked.

"Don't get cocky, Burkhard."

She turned around right as Magcargo rushed her down. Using the severed wing, she threw it at his face and ran at him, using the brief few seconds before the wing burned up to spring off his head. She backflipped through the air, loading a bullet into her rifle, and fired upside-down.

The bullet struck the ground, causing the earth to violently shake. It knocked Golbat over and knocked Magcargo through the air, splattering across the road. He reformed himself and growled right as Phoebe landed.

She stumbled with the lingering tremors, but found her balance and loaded in another bullet. "Cocky? Me? Gentlemen, I think you'll find my ego is perfectly adjusted. I just can't help being a bit bloodthirsty~."

Thatcher picked himself up, wiping the blood and guts off his face. He looked at the Vikavolt's dismantled remains, finding a discarded syringe laying in the goopy puddle. He stared at it for a moment before glaring at Amos, who bounced readily on his feet.

"…You're fully aware of what that alchemist is capable of, yet you seek to protect her? You utilize her dark alchemy?"

Amos scoffed, brushing off the lingering Infestation crawling over his body. "Dark alchemy? All I did was turn that sack of shit into a bomb. She had the tools, I had the means of infection."

Thatcher's glare deepened. "Do you have the slightest idea what her family history is like?"

"As far as I'm concerned, I don't care. You only just found out about her family, too."

"Yet I know more than you could ever imagine. Her talents are wasted out here. If she put them to a greater purpose, she could achieve so much." He smirked. "Then again, who knows how long she has left out here?"

"…Hmm?"

Thatcher raised his arms, spreading his Infestation over them. "Those destined to die in the Outlands…will soon find themselves at a crossroads. No matter how many times they try to take the other path, fate always leads them to their end. There are forces in this world beyond comprehension, and I am merely a passive observer of them. I've only scratched the surface of her family history, and certain forces want to see her dead. I guarantee you, whatever happens after today, will be a result of her existence."

"…" Amos glared. "I'm about done listening to your shit." He catapulted himself into the air with his tail and rode along a conjured Sandstorm. He gathered the wind around his pincer. "Serrated Sandstorm!" He launched a barrage of sand blades down on the earth.

"Infested Whip Storm!" Thatcher lunged toward the attack, flailing his arms and breaking down the sand blades. "Infested Whip!" As he flew up into the air, he launched his arms forward, attempting to grab Amos.

Amos cut off his Sandstorm and dove under Thatcher's arms before boosting off the air with sand. "Poison Tail!" With his stinger-less tail, he coated it in poison and slammed it across the Carnivine's body.

Thatcher recoiled briefly before pulling his arms back in and attempted to smack Amos off. The Gligar bounced off with his tail and took to the air again. Thatcher reared his arms back, wrapping them in Leaf Tornado, and launched them forward.

"Razor Whip!"

Amos glided to the side, barely avoiding the rushing storm of leaves. He winced, feeling the rush of wind and sharpened winds slashing across his cheek. He dove down to the rooftops below and fired out Venoshocks. Thatcher recalled his arms and blocked the attack with his infested coating.

"Toxic!" Amos inhaled deeply and lobbed a massive glob of poison through the air.

"Haven't you learned anything?" Thatcher fired with his Infested Whip and smashed through the poison blob. "Your poison can't reach me!"

Amos leapt off the roof right as the arm crashed down over him, busting the roof open. He glided back over the street and landed within the ruined storehouse. He picked up the misplaced revolver and aimed at the sky.

"Yeah, but this can!" Amos slammed his stump on top of the firing hammer…

…and immediately reeled in pain.

"GAH!" He staggered back on his heels, frantically waving his sore stump. "Shit, dammit! That hurts!"

Thatcher smirked. "A Gligar trying to use a gun? How cute. Razor Whip Storm!" He extended and flailed his arms, generating a harsh hurricane of leaves as he descended over the ruins.

Amos leapt back onto the street before the attack came crashing over him. He tumbled back onto his feet and ran while trying to push on the firing hammer. The fact he was right-pincered was bad enough. He imagined his aim would be horribly off even if he could fire the revolver, but he didn't expect to have this much trouble firing it. His pincer was hard enough to endure and strike the hammer down, not his mangled wrist.

How the hell am I going to fire this thing?

He peeked over his shoulder and saw Thatcher chasing after him. He jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the crushing blows of his Razor Whip attacks. They slammed around him, rattling him as they shook the ground. He boosted himself back into the air and landed on the roof before continuing to flee.

Thatcher spun himself and swiped his arms through the buildings, tearing them down as they gained on Amos. He quickly bounced into the air, riding along his sandstorm, while the buildings collapsed over any poor souls trying to sleep inside.

As he flew, Amos tried all he could to effectively pull the hammer back. He grabbed it with his teeth, but it only ached them. He tried headbutting it, which was an immediate mistake. He attempted to cradle it in his right arm, but it was too awkward to fire properly, not to mention way too close to his body to be safely fired.

Agh! I can't work like this! Amos dove out of the air, dodging another sweeping Razor Whip. What do I have to do? Glue it to my arm?

"…" His eyes widened. "Wait a minute!"

With renewed confidence, he dove further down and flew into an upcoming building, smashing through the window. Thatcher snickered and flew after him, pulling back on his whip arms.

"Hiding? How cowardly!" He fired his arms forward and smashed them through the walls, bringing the upper floor down. "You'll be joining every last unfortunate soul in Hell, you little shit! That is your fate!"

Phoebe kept her distance, swinging off the nearby buildings and flipping through the air as she avoided the rushing stream of lava that was Magcargo. Everywhere he struck, fire broke out, setting half the town ablaze in his assault. Thugs came running out the buildings screaming as they caught fire. Some had the misfortune of stepping into the molten earth, drowning up to the waist and burning alive.

Phoebe bounced off the side of a building, dodging another of Magcargo's attacks, and fired on him. He contorted his body right as the bullet fired, letting the streak of water blow through the burning building instead. He compressed himself and launched through the air to tackle her.

"Mimic! Lava Plume!" Phoebe, with her eyes glowing red, cupped her hand around her mouth and exhaled a massive volume of lava in front of herself. Magcargo slammed into wall of lava and dropped back onto the ground while Phoebe landed away from the molten rock.

Magcargo shook his head and growled. "Resourceful, but ineffective to stop me."

Phoebe reached behind herself and pulled out a dull bullet. She gripped it inside her hand and shouted, "Power Bestowal!" A red aura glowed around her body before transferring into her fist. Once the energy condensed within her grip, she opened her hand and revealed the red bullet glowing in her palm.

Magcargo scoffed. "Amusing, but weren't you listening? That won't hurt me." He rushed at her.

Phoebe glared over her shoulder and saw Golbat barely managing to pick himself up. She smirked back at Magcargo and said, "You said something about me being resourceful. I'm also quite…unpredictable." She rushed at the fire slug before catapulting off her tail and flipping over him. As she did, she wagged one of the fingers on her tail as it started glowing.

Golbat trembled over to Magcargo when he noticed what Phoebe was doing. He gasped. "Oh no…"

She landed and lined up her shot straight at them. "And today's lucky winner…is Nasty Plot! Mystery Bullet!"

She squeezed the trigger and fired on the duo. The bullet carried an aura of lava blazing streaking like a comet passing over the night sky. Dark sparks crackled off the tip of the energy cone, magnifying the volume of aura being exuded. As it passed over the land, molten earth followed in its wake. Even in the split second the bullet traveled from the barrel to its targets, an immense heat filled the cool night air.

Magcargo only had a split second to dodge, flattening his body as low to the ground as he could and letting the bullet pass over him. Golbat, however, wasn't so quick to react. Weakened from having his wing torn off and the back of his throat blown open, he screamed as the bullet fired into his gaping mouth, carrying the massive volume of lava inside.

His screams would not be heard as an explosion ripped out from his back, flames erupting like an active volcano. His eyes boiled, melted, and erupted with fire before his entire face was seared from the inside.

After the explosion died down, Magcargo lifted his head and gawked at the sad state of his partner, petrified in place with the entirety of his mouth burnt to ash, letting him see the road through his back. The dripping remains of a single eye hung between the burnt tunnel of flesh, but it fell off just as the corpse collapsed to the ground.

Phoebe's rifle didn't survive the blast. The barrel had been blown open in the firing. She flicked a small lever, causing the barrel to detach and rattle onto the ground. "One down," she mumbled.

Magcargo growled and rushed her down. "All you've done is unarmed yourself! Now I'm primed to kill you!"

She smirked. "Don't forget, I'm not working alone."

A portal of darkness opened up in front of Magcargo. He gasped and tried to stop himself, but it didn't matter. A vial flew out of the portal and smashed into his face, exploding into a vapor of mist against his body. He let out a screech of pain, rearing himself up as harsh crackling noise sounded off his body.

A new portal opened beside Phoebe, and Evelot stepped out. She rummaged inside her costume and pulled out a new barrel for Phoebe's rifle. "That won't hold him forever."

She took the barrel and locked it into her rifle. "It doesn't need to."

The mist cleared, revealing that Magcargo had been trapped inside a shell of stone made from his own lava body. His head was barely covered, allowing him to snarl audibly at the Aipom. "You…You can't just—"

"No rules in the Outlands, remember?" She loaded a bullet and aimed for the fire slug's head. "Still, I'm not completely heartless. I even got you a gift to say thanks for all the fun times."

His eyes widened. "No. Don't you dare—"

Her smirk stretched. "Bye-bye~!"

BANG!

A rush of water exploded out from her rifle and completely obliterated the upper half of Magcargo's body. A harsh cloud of steam billowed from the remaining half of his body while chucks of solid hot rock rained over the burning town, one of them bearing a resemblance to the horrified expression of his eye.

Phoebe spun her rifle and blew on the barrel. "Nobody tells me what to do."

"Hey, what are you doing in my—"

After Amos bit the random thug's neck and knocked him out with poison, he flew down the lower parts of the house right as the roof and upper floor came toppling down in Thatcher's rampage. He glided through the ruined floor, dodging debris that fell through the ceiling, and made his way to the kitchen setup in the corner. Immediately, he tore open the cabinets and dug around for anything he could use.

"Something, anything, to keep the gun stabilized! That's all I'm asking!" he shouted, tearing through everything in sight.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are~!" Thatcher's voice sang through the walls.

Amos ripped out drawers and cabinet doors, throwing around rusty utensils and old pots while digging deep into the back of the counter. He finally found a couple of old rags and some skewers. He grimaced to himself, fearing the plan he just came up with.

"This is going to suck." Shaking his head, he pressed his right arm to the ground and placed the revolver over it, lining it up to resemble how he would hold it. He pulled a rag under his arm, then held on end in his teeth. Next, he picked up a few skewers and closed one eye as he tried to line them up with the gaps in the revolver.

He flinched as he heard more of the house being torn open upstairs. More of the ceiling came crashing down around him. "You can't hide forever!" Thatcher shouted from outside.

"…Screw this." Amos took a deep breath and pierced the skewers through the gaps in the revolver and his arm. He bit down on the cloth, feeling them dig through his arm and wing. He shook off the pain and stuck one more skewer through. Immediately after, he pulled on the rag and started tying it around his arm.

Thatcher continued beating down on the house with a violent array of whip attacks, taking out the exterior and causing the house to sink more and more to the ground. He briefly pulled his arms back to hear himself laughing at the idea of the Gligar being buried alive.

"You'll never survive out here! There are creatures far worse than me around every corner!" he exclaimed. "You, who fancies himself a mercenary, wouldn't dream of braving the outer reaches of this devilish land! What resolve could you possibly have to overcome this—"

BANG!

From the debris, a bullet wrapped in fire exploded into the air. Thatcher gasped and floated out of its way, feeling the intense heat coming off the attack. "What the? He must've hit the revolver against something and fired it by accident. Not a bad shot even if he missed."

"That wasn't an accident—"

Thatcher froze as a searing hot pain blasted into his left shoulder, ripping through his arm and severing it in a glorious explosion of heat.

"And I didn't miss."

Thatcher clutched his burning shoulder and screamed out in agony. "IT BURRRRRRRNS! AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

The top of the wreckage broke open. Climbing out onto the top, trembling with the improvised gun arm that dripped with blood, Amos smirked at the screaming Carnivine with a delight he hadn't felt in months. "Shnee-heeheehee!" he laughed through clenched teeth. "I'm not strong enough for the Outlands, you say?"

Thatcher clutched his burning and bleeding shoulder, growling down at the Gligar with bloodshot eyes. "YOU!"

"I'm going to raise Hell in this damned territory, and I'll slaughter every last Freak who gets in my way!" His bloodied smirk grew. "Shnee-heeheehee! I'll turn this entire lawless land upside-down!"

Thatcher roared. "YOU ARROGANT LITTLE—RAZOR WHIP!" He reared back his left arm and extended it with a whirlwind of leaves rushing around it.

Amos revealed a bullet clenched between his teeth and spat it into the open chamber. He jumped out of the wreckage, avoiding the Razor Whip, and took to the air as he aimed his gun arm. "Let me show you why they call me…Amos of the Blind Luck!"

He slammed his pincer down on the firing hammer, firing out a bullet glowing in a silver aura of spiraling energy. It ripped through the air, faster than Thatcher could react to, and shredded into his remaining arm. Curving the bullet through his sand, Amos manipulated the bullet to travel up the arm, shredding it to mulch before tearing through the Carnivine's shoulder.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Thatcher screamed as blood spurted out of his wounds. He growled through the pain and dove out the sky. Hundreds of insects formed around his face and teeth. Energy glowed through his teeth and enlarged them. "INFESTED FANGS!"

Amos picked another bullet out and threw it into the revolver. "Too slow!" He struck the firing hammer again, launching a bullet oozing an aura of purple liquid.

It struck the corner of Thatcher's face and ripped through. A burst of acid sprayed across his face and tore the entire left side open. It threw him out of his attack, and he crashed into the ground as his bugs scattered. His ripped jaw snagged on a piece of debris as he skidded across the wreckage, tearing halfway through his head. He barely stopped before it ripped the upper half of his head clean off.

"Aaaaaagh…" Thatcher groaned. "Who…d-do you think you are?"

Amos loaded one last bullet into the gun and aimed for the sky. "Didn't I just tell you? I'm the one who's going to turn the Outlands upside-down. Take that to your grave." He struck the gun and fired an orange beam into the sky.

The bullet carrying the energy split apart, exploding into a shower of streaking lights that, through Amos' trajectory manipulation, rained down on Thatcher's position. Amos jumped out of the wreckage as the pressure of the raining bullet fragments closed in.

Thatcher struggled to lift his head, glaring with blood running down his face. "A…AMOSSSSSSSSSS—"

The meteor bullets impacted, punching holes through Thatcher's body and head. Explosions ripped his body open, tearing his plant-like flesh and scattering it through the air. One bullet struck down on his bare neck, eradiating the last shred of flesh keeping his head bound together.

Amos shielded his eyes from the exploding lights enough to still witness the destruction unfold. Something came flying out of the fading attacks and landed at his feet. It was the top half of the Carnivine's head riddled with scorched bullet holes. His eyes were barely intact, crying green blood.

"…Tch." Amos stomped on the severed head, squashing one of the eyes under his heel. "What a joke." He raised his foot again and continued stomping on the head. "What's the matter? No witty retort, dead man?"

"And here I thought I had issues." Amos glared down the road as Phoebe and Evelot approached him. Evelot immediately recoiled at the remains of Thatcher, but Phoebe gave in an unflinching glare. "…Well, would you look at that?" She walked over and proceeded to stomp on his head as well. "A part of me hopes some shred of his consciousness is still ticking so he can see this."

Amos finished grinding his heel into the Carnivine's head before stepping away. "Looks like your debts are cleared."

She smirked. "Seems so."

Evelot looked at Amos' arm and winced at his makeshift modifications. "I just patched you up! Why would you do that to yourself?! You might get an infection!"

Amos rolled his eyes and held up his gun arm. "Your bullets worked like a charm. The power of individual moves increased by the speed and power of a single bullet. No wonder someone would want to get their hands on your formula."

"…" Evelot sighed. "At least let me inspect your arm before we hit the road."

Amos glared. "That may have to be sooner than we hoped."

Phoebe looked around and noticed the fires continuing to spread around Scornpeak. "Yeeeeeah, it won't take long before Last Autumn notices this." She crossed her arms and glared at him. "So, what's the plan, Lamecaster?"

He shot a brief glare her way before looking toward the ruined storehouse. "You stored everything under the floorboards like we planned, right?"

Evelot nodded. "Y-Yeah, I did."

Amos smirked. "Then let's use the fires to our advantage and double our supplies."