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Chapter Text

“Run...”

Those words echoed beyond the black horizon that engulfed her sight. She could only see flashes off hues of fleeting orange and crashing red as the scene dragged on. The colours clashed and shot through the black canvas above her like lightning and boomed through like thunder.

“Run far...”

That toxic smell of gunpowder and smoke, that pungent sting of iron from the splashes of blood were all so familiar to her. Those soft whispers fell on deaf ears.

Against those words that beckoned her for safety, for her sake, she stood there unfazed. Instead, it was as if she was taking it all in. Soaking into the scene that slowly took its shape and form, she stood there without a hint of curiosity or fear in her eyes. Her eyes did not scatter or flicked from detail to detail. Her body did not tense up. Her shoulders were not squared, nor her tail feverishly wagged.

She simply stood there on the puddles of water below her bare feet.

The scene morphed into shapes and forms, into estranged figures and familiar sprites. The house riddled with revolting stains of blood and numerous bullet holes. The corpses that sprawled across the floor. The claw marks that vandalised those walls she remembered dearly. The pictures of her lineage torn down, cracked, and dishonoured. The caches broke open, remaining hollow as it ever was in the first place. She watched the faces she once knew change by the second. She watched the shadows danced before her, whether in glee or in agony.

She knew why. It was not something to wonder about. She had no choice.

“Texas...”

The cold breeze that brushed gently prompted her to turn around to see the many figures stand behind her. Their identities were stripped off from their faces but their unwavering spirit of loyalty, by their stand at attention postures, their sharply dressed suits, their signature Lupo characteristics, spelt out who they were to Texas. They were family to her. They were friends to her. They were everything to her.

Yet, she stood there without a feeling of remorse or regret.

More so, she felt composed, as if she knew it was closing in on her.

She breathed in deep and dragged out a long breathe out.

She walked into the sea of her past family. They made way for her to stroll into the black sea.

“Texas... You have to let go.”

Her feet carried her heavy body. She felt herself sinking deeper into the floor.

“Let us go. It was not your fault.”
Her mouth opened but the words had her choking. Nothing could be said.
No words were necessary. None were needed to be heard.

Her body slowly submerged into the darkness as the figures loomed over her.

For once, they saw the glint of terror dash in her eyes.

...

She awakened back to reality on her soft bed.

The soft pitter-patter of the morning rain was music to her eyes. Such tranquillity was obviously cherished by her, but how much was enough for her? She was happy to have such a gift. She sat up on her bed, rising up slowly to the gentle taps on her window. She rubbed her tired eyes and checked the time, only to find out it was still the early morning. Her eyes dozed off to every small detail that she was used to see every day: her study desk with forms and letters to sign through, her headset and mobile phone for her entertainment, her miniature shelf next to her bed with her favourite Pocky sticks, her shelf filled with pictures of her colleagues. This was her bedroom. The bedroom she touched up ever since she was contracted into Rhodes Island. This was her home now. Her only home.

She curled up to the thought of home and laid her head on her knees. She looked out through the window into that starry sky.

“My past... It will catch up to me one day.”

Chapter Text

“Good morning, Doctor.” Texas’ voice reached out in her silvery tone.

“Good morning to you too, Texas.” The Doctor pat her on the shoulder before unpacking his briefcases and settling down in his office.

With the rainy showers from the early morning lightening up, the raindrops that dripped on the office’s wide window glistened like crystals under the warm orange sunshine. The office being situated at the apex of the HQ tower had granted anyone the humbling yet marvellous view of Rhodes Island before them. Those sleek towers that arched over the facilities dedicated for all personnel, those loading bays that bustled with life, the dormitories that stretched far and wide for the increasing number of personnel, it was inspiring to the Doctor. He remembered the times of his awakening to this strange world, boiled and riled with conflict. He remembered his first visit to the base and its small stature as compared to what it was now. From its small, modest, and humble beginning, the base grew. He remembered those fond moments that he shared with the new personnel contracted to Rhodes Island as he adjusted to his environment. It took months. It took insurmountable heaps of effort. It took sacrifices. It took sacrifices everyone took to heart. Here they are now. It was a testament of the noble cause everyone has swore to and bonded over. The Doc soaked it all in before starting work yet again for yet another day.

“So, what is the agenda for today, Texas?”

Texas rose from her seat with the stack of papers in her hands. “Besides the work that was not finished yesterday, we have new orders from Kal’tsit regarding the operator’s welfare.

“Ah...” The Doc slouched a bit upon hearing that name. “I see. Please hand it over then, I will get started.”

“Would you like the usual, Doctor?”

“Please, thank you, Texas.”

For someone whose combat style posed such a refined sense of savagery, by first impression, one would not assume that Texas would enjoy doing logistics. Not that she had any qualms from paperwork or administrative matters, for she became quite acquainted with the routine. The mundane routine of running through papers and auditing to hours end, many would find it bothersome, but not her. Had it not for Penguin Logistics opening up a position for her, who would know where she would be doing what (and definitely it would not be doing paperwork). She had no complains or regrets joining the organisation and, eventually, getting contracted to Rhodes Island. She felt at ease here. Sure, her colleagues were quite the handful to deal with, from the bubbly and energetic Exusiai, to the conniving cheapskate Croissant, but she would like it no other way. Every day to see their faces and cleaning up their messes, to unwind in their company, it was nice. Of course, the other operators were lovely to socialise with, but she had no need to be close to anyone.

“Here’s your coffee, Doc. Just how you like it.”

“Thank you, Texas. Where would I be without you?”

“Six feet under due to Kal’tsit’s temper.” She let out a subtle smirk, much to Doc’s amusement. “Now, if you excuse me, I will start the day proper.”

Texas returned to her own study desk within the office

She had been the Doc’s assistant for quite some time now. On a typical schedule, the Doc would assign a new assistant biweekly to gain their rapport and build up cohesion between him and everyone else. However, for Texas, she had been the assistant for about two months now. She did wonder why. Not that she had any trouble with it nor would she wish to be replaced with someone. Given the choice to work here in such a professional and upright environment or to work downstairs in the trading posts with the expected nonsensical acts her colleagues would bring up, the choice was obvious to her on which is better.

“Texas, I’ve noted that you sent the minutes from the previous meeting. Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

A paper airplane landed on her table. Nothing was scribbled in it. Texas squinted her eyebrows and looked at Doc momentarily.

These two months passed by fast enough and she saw the Doc more than any other operator, besides Amiya and Kal’tsit. It entertained her to see the small habits the Doc have. She saw him doze off and sleep on his desk dreaming and mumbling of fluffing up tails. She saw him procrastinating by playing some other tower defence game under his desk every now and then. She saw him desperately trying to exercise to loosen his muscles, only to have his muscles ache. He lived such a simple life. Who knew the head of these critical operations had such a childish side?

“So, Texas. Anything fun happened lately?”

“Not really.”

“Mmm...” The Doc rose from his seat and dragged it next to Texas, much to her bewilderment. “Here is a direct question; do you have any plans later on?’

“No.”

“Ah, so you’re free for lunch later?”

“I prefer to eat alone. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Alright then, alright then. Do you have any hobbies?”

“No.”

“Alrighty. Do you plan on taking up any hobbies? Rather, has anything pique your interest?”

“Forgive me, but I would like to continue with my work.”

“I apologise. I just want to get to know you better.”

Texas remembered the other times he tried to close the distance with her. This was one of the many times he approached her and wanted to be her friend. She had no need for friends. Acquaintances were sufficient for her. She was fine with that. However, besides that exasperating Lappland, no one else had been this persistent with getting to know her.

“Doctor? May I ask you something?”

“Oh? Sure.”

“It’s strange that you have had me as your assistant for two months now. Why is that so?”

“I want to be friends with you.” He nodded. “That mysterious demeanour of yours drew me in. Seeing you so stone cold to almost everyone and yet hiding such a tender side, it had me curious of who you truly are.”

> Texas’ ears twitched. “W-What do you mean?”

“Well, well, well. I made you stutter.” He tilted his head to the side. “I take it as progress then.”

He walked towards the sofa and plopped hard on it, facing towards her. She knew that he was smiling behind that mask.

“What do you mean I have a tender side?”

“Did you not expect that I would figure out who has been giving everyone friendly chocolate for Valentine’s Day nine months ago? The hints were tell-tale, from no chocolate given to Lappland, to a huge pile for Exusiai and Emperor Penguin. You even gave customised chocolate to Suzuran. You were the only one who knew she loved to have her chocolates with mint, because it reminded her of the lilies she tended to.”

“That... That could have been anyone.” Texas’s eyes widened and looked away from the Doc, blushing hard. “It could have been Gummy or Amiya.”

“I can pull out many more cases. For instance, the Heart of Surging Flames. Due to the volcanic disturbances we all faced that summer, the concert was expected to be postponed, but lo and behold, it went on and surprisingly ahead of schedule. While I will concede that it may not be just you to thank and probably was the Penguin Logistics’ contributions, the clues were the Bose concert speaker Exusiai got right after the concerts wrapped up and...” Doc pointed out to the acoustic guitar by the corner. “Only a certain someone I know would be this conscientious with details.”

“It could have been Emperor Penguin who gave you all gifts.”

“And you expect me to believe that he also gave everyone chocolate on Valentine’s Day?”

“Of course not. I just don’t understand why you would pinpoint it to me.”

“I could just call Exusiai in. When she was my assistant for the week, she talked a lot about you.”

“She... She did?” Texas flinched and shot her glares straight at Doc.

“She was exhilarated when she found the speakers by her dorm room. She also said the little envelope you sent her with the gift was cute.”

Texas fell silent.

“At this point, I could also believe that you have a little crush on her. Do you?”

“Preposterous. I only see her as a dear friend, nothing more than that. She... She has seen my ugly side”

“Duly noted. Would you like to hear more?”

“With all due respect, my life is none of your business. I admire your investigative skills but I would like to remind you that this was all speculative at best. Beyond that, I do not see the point of being closer to me. It is fine where we are right now.”
“That, I figured as much. However, I hope you understand that I have no ill intentions. I simply wish to be friends with you.”

“... Why is that so?”

“Because I want to be friends with you. No more than that.”

Their eyes were locked on each other. The soft humming of the air conditioners filled the room.

“Doctor, allow me to make the comment that you’re creepy to say the least.”

“I get that a lot.” The Doc shuffled through his bag. “I won’t pressure you into being friends with me, otherwise it would defeat the purpose. However, before we continue our work, I have a gift for you as a thanks for the countless times you have given gifts.”

He pulled out a fat Shiba Inu dog plushie.

Texas stared hard at it. Her eyes could not believe it.

“Take it.”

She had no words to describe the feeling spurring in her.

Probably just utter confusion.

“Take it.”

“I...” It was not like she received gifts from other people. More so, to receive a gift as a thank you and as a nod to her efforts on keeping everyone happy forebode another tone altogether.

She sheepishly took it.

“You’re welcome, Texas. No need to thank me.”

The Doctor returned back to his desk and scribbled away on forms and typed away on his keyboard. Texas, with a flustering knot in her chest, returned back to her work with the Shiba Inu plushie on her lap.

The morning continued on as if it was any other day. The serenity that blanketed both of them within the room, with the usual tinge of lavender wafting around the air thanks to the humidifiers, with the enthusiastic shouting and construction works humming at the background. Time slipped by the minutes as they got immersed with their work. Beyond the occasional interactions for clarifications on the documents and replenishment of drinks, nothing stirred between them until the clock struck 12pm.

“Alright, it’s lunch time. Time to get some food. See you later, Texas.”

“See you later, Doctor.” She fluffed the plushie on her lap and pondered for a second. “Doctor, wait.”

The Doc halted by the doorframe. “Yes?”

“... I’ll take you up for lunch.”

“It will be my pleasure to have lunch with you.”

Chapter Text

“Argggh. Texaaaaaaas. Why is there so much work today? Why are there so many trading orders? Why do people even need these bars of gold? Why am I hereeeeeeee? I just want my apple pieeeeeeee.” Exusiai whined with that signature chirpy and cheery tone of hers.

“It is only the early afternoon and we had merely started.” Texas squared her eyebrows and aimlessly gazed at the slouching Laterano angel as she carried a box of gold

Exusiai whimpered at the thought of the shift starting. “How do you even deal with this every day, Tex?”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Then... Lupo Ice Queen?”

“Exusiai.”

“Fine, fine, fine. Just teasing you.” She giggled under her breath as she hoisted up a couple of boxes. “Seriously though, how do you not find this chore boring?”

“Simply because there is you to entertain me during the shifts.” Texas smirked subtly.

“W... Wha-...” Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open a tiny bit while Texas unhurriedly shifted the boxes to the conveyor belts before filling in some more paperwork. “Wait, what does that mean?”

Texas smiled as she lifted her pen.

The afternoon shifts were much more of an intermission from working with the Doctor. With the recent surplus of construction materials the base has received, they spared no effort in maximising how much space they could possibly take up. After much consultation, the base had grown tenfold from the expected size it was meant to sustain. From having four basement floors below the Control Centre, the base boasted ten floors of trading posts, factories, and power plants, much to Amiya’s approval and Kal’tsit disapproval. What beautified the metal palace were the extra rooms that had been customised to suit whichever operator’s needs, just next door from the dormitories. Beyond the typical reception rooms and workshops, many operators had the luxury of enjoying the swimming pools, gyms, gaming rooms, bars, cafeterias and much, much more. What one desired was what was available there.

For Texas, she simply had no interests in visiting any of these rooms. Indeed, she had been invited to chill by the pool or to play some snooker with the team, but all were greeted with a polite declination. She leisurely finishes her job from 8 to 5 and returns back to her room to enjoy the comfortably simple life she was gifted. Fortunately, she was assigned RIIC Assistant in charge of all trading orders. Daunting task to many, but nothing Texas struggled with.

“I’m always amazed how meticulous you can be, Texie.”

“Texie?” She stopped scribbling on the forms with a pocky in her mouth.

“Doesn’t click well on you?”

She shook her head, “Any of your nicknames doesn’t click well with me.”

“Hehe. Fine. That means I haven’t found a good one yet.” She patted her back. “Where is Bison? He should be with us for today’s shift.”

“I assume he got caught up with Gitano or Orchid on the way here. You know how they love to dote on him.”

Exusiai shuddered. “The thought scares me enough. Imagine them cuddling him to the point of suffocating and purring sweet Ara Ara on him. To be fair, he is one of the few males in the entirety of Rhodes Island. I wonder why Doc primarily recruits girls.”

Texas lifted her head to contemplate the possibilities before disregarding all of them to continue her work. “I wouldn’t know. My guess is either we are more attuned to Arts or Originium infections occur more often with women.”

“Probably, probably... Or maybe Bison got dragged into aiding another MLM scheme crafted by our own dear Croissant.”

“Probably.”

“Whichever do you think happened: Swindling with Croissant, or succumbing to Gitano?”

“Matters not to me, as long as he comes by soon.”

“Such as it is with you, Cowgirl.”

Texas shot a glare at her, bewildered. “Cowgirl?”

“I mean... You know, your codename... America back in those history books?”

Texas’ glare got colder.

“... Yee haw?”

Texas’ swords started to materialise.

“I’ll drop the nicknames for today.”

“Wise choice.” Texas exhaled and returned to audit through some details. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Fineeeeeee. However, you gotta treat me to apple pies for the hard work.”

“Only if you promise you’d stop whining about doing trading orders everyday.”

Texas had known Exusiai for quite some time now. They were contracted roughly the same time and had been here since Rhodes Island had yet to reach its full potential. They fought together, they found respite together, they chilled together. It was rare for Texas to not hang out with Exusiai during her free time, but much rarer for her to be seen with anyone else. For months, the other operators thought being a lone wolf is some form of inhabited trait with all the Lupos in Rhodes Island, but it was not like Texas preferred solitude. On the contrary, she preferred to be in the company of the Penguin Logistics, much as she did not wish to admit it. Of course, she refused to blame Exusiai for being confused with the friendship they shared. Nowadays, she was glad that there was someone to disturb her as much.

If only she could drop the nicknames, she thought to herself.

Exusiai flew all over the station, reaching to high tiers of the shelves and stacked up boxes to mountains and hills.

“So.” She shouted across the station. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“About your lunch with Doc.”

“What about it?”

The angel flew to her side. “Don’t be so cold. I wanna know the juicy details about it. What did you guys talk about?”

“Nothing.” The Lupo still had her eyes glued to the minute details presented.

“B U L L S H I T. My love detector never fails me, my dear, dear Texas. Tell me what went down.”

She rolled her eyes, “Love detector? What are you even babbling about this time?”

“C’moooon. Tell me about it, tell me.”

“There is nothing to talk about. It was just a simple lunch.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh... Really now?” The words spaced themselves out much wider.

“Yes.”

“Real-”

“Exusiai.”

“Texas and Doctor, sitting on a tree. K-I-S-”

Texas’ lifted her hand with an ensemble of materialised swords within the air, “Sword Rai-”

“EHHH, WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, I WAS JOKING, I WAS JOKING, STOP, STOP, STOP.” Exusiai, at the mercy of the terrifying Vanguard before her, arching ever so straight over her, was sprawled on the floor sweating bullets due to the hoarse growl Texas emitted. After a nervous twitch from Exusiai and a long minute, Texas’ cold scowl dissipated as fast as her transient arsenal as she returned to munch another pocky.

“You... Scare me. Do you know that?”

Texas merely sniggered.

She had a point though. That lunch had her thinking of what the Doctor discussed.

~~~

The lovely night crept in and shone such a majestic view of the stars above them. The Doctor sipped on coffee as he watched the life before him leisurely strolled by. The peace he cherished was temporary for the threat of a Reunion attack is ever-present. However, such threats did not dampen his mood. Mesmerising, he took in the view. How long has it been since he has seen that happened? It has been awhile since he had since that side of Texas. Sure, Texas was always his first-pick in every team composition, but to witness something that monstrous, something that gruesome, something that enticing from her was more than enough for him to delve deep into. Pensively, he pondered his next move and paused his haywiring train of thought.

Bestowed with many titles of Master Tactician, the Head of Operations and many more, his mental calculations and memory retention were unparalleled. Each and every mission was conducted and operated with utmost professionalism and proficiency. He prided himself with his attention to details, even the smallest details. He remembered everyone’s birthdays, medical reports, heights, and weights and so on, so forth. He remembered each operator being assigned to be his assistant for the week and the stories they brought forth in order. He remembered each embarrassing confession and compassionate calls for help within his office.

How ironic for him, he thought, that he failed to remember his past.

His past was still a blur to him. As if it was encapsulated by an impenetrable box or drowned within the fog in his mind, his past continued to elude him. Amiya kept beating about the bush and Kal’tsit kept denying any validation to the rumours around him. All the other operators had no clue. The only person that had a single shed of clue was himself and he himself was absolutely clueless.

A clue? A newspaper article? An online blog? Word of mouth? What could dig up his past? It was apparent. His own identity was forever a mystery to him...

Or so he thought.

A knock on the door snapped him from the trance he was absorbed in. “Come in.”

Texas entered.

“Ah. Texas. A pleasant surprise to see you in my office after working hours. Anything I can help you with?”

“About earlier during lunch, I would like to inquire further.”

“Ho? Please, feel free to shoot.”

“... So you wish to recall your past?”

“Yes.”

Texas’ shoulders tensed up. “Why?”

“Because I wish to know. That is all.”

“Lies.” She took a step forward. “Just to satisfy your curiosity? I believe there’s more to it than you let me on.”

“What is wrong with that line of reasoning?”

“You’re hiding something and I want to know.” Texas squinted her eyes.

“What makes you think I’m hiding something?”

“The course of actions that led to this event. Two months as your assistant, paying special attention to my actions throughout the year, the sudden invitation for lunch, the proposal you gave me to become your ally in search of ‘the Truth’... Why?”

The Doctor breathed in. “I have my own reasons as to why I wish to remember the time before the beginning. What exactly happened to me that inflicted amnesia on me? Why am I the centerpiece of these operations? Why am I a key target to everything? Why is it that we have not solved a compromise between us and Reunion? I’m tired of the bloodshed and sick of losing any more people. Aren’t you?”

Texas lowered her gaze before nodding. “Of course I am, Doctor.”

“The only reason why I entrust you to be my ally is because we are not so different, you and I. We both have our pasts that we do not wish to talk about. We have our pasts that people refuse to discuss with us behind that thin veil of secrecy and ‘protection’. Don’t you feel, for a minute, don’t you feel that there were some underlying tones or messages in your past that spelt something?”

Texas closed her eyes and exhaled. “Even so, what does that have to do with me?”

He approached her. “You are the only person I can confide with. You understand where I am coming from.”

“How would you know, Doctor?

“The medical reports, the background checks and files, your token which is the scutcheon of the venerable Lupo family that you bore on your shirt. I assume your reserved demeanour was due to your past and as much as you want to forget about it, you also would like some answers to it.”

Texas was silent.

“Some of the details don’t add up, do they?”

The Doctor extended his arm and had his palm open.

“Work with me and we can both resolve our past. You can let your past go and I can finally face myself.”

She stood there quietly before restoring the cool look she spotted in her daily life. She merely turned around and slowly walked to the door. Her hand rested on the door handle. “With all due respect, you are wrong, Doctor. I wish not to delve into my past any longer. I decline your invitation to investigate.”

The Doctor nodded. “I can respect that.”

He returned to his seat. “On another note, are you coming for the annual Rhodes Island party tomorrow? Everyone will be there.”

“... I will think about it.”

“See you tomorrow morning. Rest well now.”

She closed the door and returned to her dormitory.

“One day, Texas. One day, you will understand why I want you by my side.”

~~~

Texas, in her casual clothing, sat on her bed and ran through the series of events that happened today.

She hugged the Shiba Inu plushie.

“What does he know about me?”

She looked outside the window.

“Why me of all people?”

Chapter Text

Texas awakened to yet another day. Rested, relaxed and revitalised, she was happy to start her day off with her usual warm-up exercises and stretches. Beyond that? Nothing else threw her off from her daily routine for the day so far; she replenished her essential pack of pocky sticks, enjoyed the warmth from the delectable breakfast, clocked in for work at the Doctor's office without any mention of last night's issue, and was bound to yet another shift in the Trading Posts. That day showed promise for something interesting for her, however, since the annual Rhodes Island party was tonight. She felt the electrifying atmosphere revolting through her body due to her fellow colleagues. She felt it in the cafeteria: the bustling and energised crowd, the rowdier-than-usual chatter, the overjoyed anticipation from the younger operators. Everyone was in kahoots for it. 

Why wouldn't they, she thought to herself, tonight is their night. It was the talk of the town down at the cafeteria.

She was pleasantly surprised to be able to soak in the lively atmosphere. She was even more pleasantly taken aback to receive some treats, from Suzuran's milk chocolate to some Hazelnut Pocky from Exusiai.

The annual party was dedicated for everyone to commemorate yet another successful year there, to celebrate all the achievements, accomplishments and milestones reached, and to salute those who had served before their time came for them. An initiative by the Doc himself, he oversaw and coordinated the flow of the party, from the itinerary, to the entertainment, down to the delicacies. Not a single detail was left out of consideration, as expected. The only question that troubled him every year is how to do it better than the previous year. She dared not imagine the headache that would have racked up if she were to help him.

She wondered what schemes or mischief her friends would stir up this time. Every year, they had to cough up yet another 'playful' act, each to their own style. Assuming from prior years, it would not catch her off-guard if Croissant started off swindling without remorse and selling away Exusiai pin-ups (and don't ask how she got it), or Emperor was found wolfing down on the fatty tuna sashimi, or even Bison being dragged away to a room with a fine lady. She did eavesdrop and heard that Sora was probably invited to be the vocalist for this year's key performance, alongside Vigna and a few others.

She wondered what she would do. Wishing to walk away from being the mature caretaker to these children was one thing, but performing it was another. 

She smiled under her breath. With a carefree look in her eye, she leaned on a wall of the elevator as she descended down to the trading posts. 

"I ought to relax this time around," she whispered to herself. "It is high time for me to unwind."

What will she do, she asked herself. Down a few drinks? Chat with the other operators? Play some games there? Dance? Help out backstage? 

Her mind was caught up on what the Doc would do. What would he do? 

She looked up and pondered on it. 

Now that she thought about it, even with the two months spent together, she had not a single solid clue on what interest him. 

Maybe a heart-to-heart friendly talk with him? 

Does she need to? 

Her ears flickered. She too can't wait for tonight.

As she approached the sliding doors to the Trading Posts, she checked the time and date. 

"1300. Right on time."

Always on time and never late was expected from any Penguin Logistics (P.L) member, especially her. She prided herself of her punctuality.

However, she realised another detail. A detail she glossed over her calendar or when she did a weather-check.

Today was 11/11. 

"Oh no." She raised her view from her wristwatch to what's inside of the trading post as the doors slid open to reveal her curse. "Wait… No… It can't be… Not her."

Lo and behold, what awaited her was what she feared to be stuck with for the entire shift. A black-and-white silhouette was perched nonchalantly on a mountain of supplies and boxes. Her pale skin, her snow-white hair and tail and her devil-may-care attitude, all these were painfully familiar to Texas. The notorious white lupus beamed a bright smile on her face and waved feverishly at her. 

"Yo, Texas! Wonderful afternoon we're going to have."

Texas raised her shoulders and chest, and breathed deeply. 

"Good afternoon, Lappland."

If only she was allowed to sigh in front of her. Her ears twitched. She can't wait for tonight. 

A pair of fearful yet curious eyes beckoned from the head popping out of the shelves nearby. "I'm sorry, Texas. I tried my best to stop her but her strength… She's intimidating."

Texas softened up. "It's alright, Bison. I'm glad you're here at all."

Bison nodded politely before slowly coming out from cover. "I will start finalising our agenda for today and once done, we shall commence our work proper."

"Thank you, Bison."

The reliable young lad bowed before disappearing into the sea of shelves. 

"Do you know what day it is?" Her honeyed voice reached out to the shuffling figure entering.

"Yes, I do. While I do not have any gifts for you, happy birthday, Lappland."

Lappland shrieked in joy before vaulting herself off the stack of boxes. With her tail wagging fervently, she strided right to Texas' side as she unpacked her notebooks and forms. "Do you know how long I've been waiting to hear that from you?"

"I do not."

"Want to take a wild guess?"

"Not really, no."

"Aww, don't be so cold now. I thought we have warmed up to each other by now. We've known each other for so long, there's no need to act like strangers." Each word leisurely slipped off her tongue. Lappland had her words dancing.

"I am not treating you like a stranger," Her voice cleared up. Contrasting to the troublesome colleague, her voice was gentle and yet straightforward. "I am treating you like a colleague."

"What about friend?" She inched forward.

"Colleague." She stayed put.

"Best friend?" She inched even more forward. 

"Colleague." She drew herself away slightly.

"Close friend?" 

"Lappland."

"Come on now." The intruding wolf rolled her eyes before sitting herself down on the side of Texas' desk, much to her annoyance. "It's my birthday. My wish, my only wish, this wish that I kept close to my heart throughout the year, is to be your dear friend. There is nothing else I yearn for beyond your recognition in our lovely friendship. Don't you want us to be as closely knit as we were last time? Please throw me a bone here."

Texas sighed. 

Lappland hunched forward with anticipation.

"... You're my friend."

"Best friend?" Her eyes sparkled.

"You're my friend. Nothing more, nothing less." Her eyes, on the contrary, lacked life. 

"Tsk." Lappland lifted herself off the desk, still spotting that rougish smile, and waltzed to the other side of the desk. This time, she leaned on it and tilted her head to catch her attention. "Aren't you teasing. That's why I love you, Texas. You always play hard-to-get." 

Texas fetched a pocky stick. "We have a lot of work to do today." 

Lappland giggled innocently. "Yes, we do. That's the best part, Texas. We have all afternoon to play."

"Excuse me." The young gentleman returned. "I have finished and would like to discuss with you two the plans for today."

Lappland stepped aside and gestured him towards the desk. With slight hesitation, he nodded before proceeding.

The orders, like Pandora's box, swarmed the trio with the immense demands and variety. Of course, gold bars were still the top priority, but to spice it up, Originium Shards were sought out too. Contacting other factories and trading posts to smoothen out the process and to lighten the burden on them by swapping orders when possible, as well as contracting other personnel to deliver the goods and allocating workload to each member, all promised them exhaustion. At the very least, the light at the end of the tunnel was the party, and by that mere fact, they shovelled through. 

Especially Lappland. 

Throughout the afternoon shift, she seized any opportunity given to tease Texas. Playing with her prey, she indulged in any moment she had with her and pampered herself to each and every response given, much to Texas' frustration. 

Many of the operators wondered what was going through Lappland's head half the time, and it was much more of a mystery about the fascination of Texas. While Lappland posed much of an unnerving threat, physically speaking, she had been well-behaved through and through. What was it that had them distrusting of her? Was it her words that felt like they laced with poison, with each word feeling like they were deliberately strung up? Was it her uneasy demeanour, that morbid curiosity or taste in dark humour? Was it about her way of conversation that was abstract compared to everyone else? 

Texas knew why, and only she felt the entire brunt of it. 

Only for Texas, with Texas, much to Lappland's enjoyment. 

For good reasons too. 

Throughout the hours, Lappland remained by her side. Biding her time, she remained cheerful and in high spirits, striking up conversations left and right in the middle of work. Her strength was apparent, as lifting those boxes were nothing to her. Even so, she still had as much energy to chit-chat and disturb her. Whatever topic pinged in her head was whatever topic they would discuss for the minute.

Texas was patient, or more so resilient. She had worked with Lappland on numerous occasions, from such administrative works to the blood-soaked battlefield, and she knew that Lappland was as relentless in the field as she was pestering her. However, since it was her birthday, Lappland was animated by it. That wore her down even more.

"Alright." Bison called out. "That is almost all of the orders. We're finally seeing the light."

Texas' head sunk, with her gloomy eyes squinting over the final details, her shoulders slumped and her head resting on her hand. She scratched her head.

"Tea, Texas?" Bison's calming voice and a cup reached out.

"Thank you very much."

Bison brought up a chair next to her. "... Long day?"

"Yes. It has been."

"I figured as much. How do you manage to tolerate her? I mean, don't get the wrong impression from me, but I am amazed to see how much patience you have shown."

"Trust me." She spoke with a shaky yet determined resolve. "You get used to it."

"Ah." He felt a shred of pity for her before disregarding it. "I see now…"

The two laid back on their chairs and sipped their tea. The tea's alluring warmth heated up her body and she felt nice and snugged. A moment of respite was all she needed. A little breather.

"How long have you been working with P.L?"

Texas looked at the ceiling momentarily, counting the months, or even years, she had been on the team. "Probably a couple years… Or maybe less."

"It has been quite some time then. Truth be told, you are quite the personality as compared to everyone else there."

"I figured as much." She smiled weakly. "But it's home for me."

"Ah…" Bison had to stop himself in his tracks to observe Texas enjoying the rush of nostalgia from her earlier memories with them.

Texas fetched another Pocky.

"So… Texas." Bison tried to maintain eye contact but shied away from her gentle gaze. "How did you get to know Lappland? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"I prefer not to talk about it. All I can share with you is that I met her a long time ago when we were young and we've been stuck together ever since." Texas sipped her tea again. "Funny, as if we were bounded by fate."

"I see. It must have been hell for you, huh?"

Texas' eyes softened a bit. "Yes. It has."

She raised her hand and offered Bison a Pocky stick, to which he gratefully accepted. 

"At the very least, we have reached our final order, so persevere a bit more and we can call it a day."

"Thank you Bison. If only it has been easier. If onl-"

"Texas!" 

Texas sighed. "Yes, Lappland?"

She dropped a chair right next to Texas and plopped on it. "I want some tea too. Pocky too."

Out of courtesy, she offered her a stick. 

"Careful now. I don't smoke." Amused by her own joke, she snatched one out. 

Bison tensed up a bit. Texas was indifferent to it all. She was pushing herself to finish the form. 

"You know… I have one more birthday wish and I would love to see you grant it for me." Lappland wickedly grin. "Would you like to guess what it is?"

"No, I don't, and I would like to finish this. Spare me a few minutes." 

"I would like to see your old self again, instead of this cowardly version."

Texas stopped scribbling for a moment before continuing. 

"Don't you miss those days, Texas? Back then we were kids and always fought each other for fun?"

Those words fell on her deaf ears. 

"I remember my old self. Exiled from the Siracusa Mafioso, hunted by my own sworn siblings, and have arrived here, where violence and war have yet proven to me that I need to be much stronger than I was back then. It hurts. It hurts me badly, but why does that pain feel so good? Revenge has never tasted so sweet."

Bison listened intently. He felt his hair standing.

"I remember the good days. Good ol' days where we both were so hungry for power, for revenge, for our names. That feeling was so addicting, I never would have thought you would deny yourself of such a wondrous pleasure. What happened to it all, huh, Texas? Remember those times we sparred?"

Texas stopped writing and sipped her tea. She breathed in deep.

"You were terrifying. You were a horrendous beast. You were the heir to the Texas family. You were their pride, and yet here you are, sitting here in this desolate base where all of us have deluded ourselves to live such a 'peaceful' lifestyle. We are far from it. We seek power. We can only seek for absolute power. What else is there to chase after? We are not so different from everyone else out there. Not even the Doctor can resist those sweet, sweet whispers of power and dominance." 

"... You're wrong." She whispered under her breath.

"What?" The sudden response intrigued Lappland. "Care to say it again?"

"You are wrong." Texas steeled her sights straight at the form. "Everyone here is fighting for a better future for everyone."

"Really now? What about those Reunion members we slaughtered? Where is their salvation? Our blood is on our hands, Texas, and instead of embracing it, you are washing it off."

"Simply because I am not a savage." Her tone was sharp. She did not mince any of her words and her articulation pinned it on Lappland. 

"... Savage?"

Lappland paused and her smile faded as she stared straight at Texas who was facing away from her. 

Her smile returned after a moment's notice. 

"Texas, you must understand that I am no mere savage. I will admit, I was insulted when you titled me a savage, but I understand your point. To you, we are all civilised and we are all cultured, united to a singular noble cause. To you, we are all working towards that common goal of saving everyone and reaping that future we desired."

Lappland leaned towards Texas. 

"I have to ask, Texas. What makes us so different from Reunion then? They are also united under their own cause, their own form of salvation, their own form of common goal to reunite everyone who has been outcasted and exiled, just like you and I. Do you know how many of our own Colombian and Siracusa brethren joined the Reunion, just to be slain by us?" 

"I am not an outcast, nor have I been exiled."

Lappland launched herself off her chair. "But you exactly know where I come from. You have lost your family and your pride. You exactly know what it was to lose everything and have to rebuild from rock bottom."

"And what good will it do if you compare us to them?" She snapped back. Instantly, she withdrew herself from the heat of the argument for it was not like her to raise her voice. 

Lappland's smile widened. 

"Do you see the progress the Doctor made in finding a cure for oripathy infection? Has he ever made it public knowledge of the progress to all of us? We all would love to help him and work towards that cute he promised, but why doesn't he make it known of how much progress has been established? We are not so different from Reunion if that is how it is."

Texas cleared her throat. "I have been his assistant for two months and I can assure you that there is progress made."

"You have to be kidding me, Texas. The point I'm trying to make is that why not you just stop being this spiritless and cowardly form yourself and instead become the legend you were? What good will it do if you hold yourself back?"

"It is because I like being here." Texas finally glared at Lappland. "The past is the past. Nothing will ever change the past and I'm moving on from it." 

"Why not embrace it? All this wasted potential within you pisses me off."

"I don't need to embrace it. I have everyone else and that's enough for me."

"Tsk." Lappland shot her glance away. "I can't believe it. Whatever can I do to get that old Texas back?"

"That old Texas you reminisce about? She's dead." Texas growled. "I'm not regressing back to those days."

Lappland shook her head, disappointed. 

"... One day she will return. That day is near. I can feel it. You will then return to your old self and you will finally yearn for more power."

Texas shut her eyes and breathed deep. She then returned to her desk and signed the final few pages of the forms before dropping her pen and standing up.

"Where are you going, Texas?" Bison scurried to her side as she trudged to the door. 

"Out to the dormitories. All forms and orders have been taken care of and we can now rest." Texas looked back one last time. "Good day, Lappland."

"Wonderful day to you too, Texas. It's been a wild ride as per usual with you."

The Trading Post doors closed and Texas and Bison headed to the public dormitories for a quick pitstop before the event. 

Lappland's smile weakened but was ever present. 

"I wonder if she realised that her old self is coming out again. I could see it from the glare she shot at me earlier. Oh well. Soon, soon, soon."

She exited the Trading Post. 

"Right, it's time for my appointment for my psychiatric evaluation."

Chapter Text

'Knock knock.'

"Doctor."

No response reached out to her. 

'Knock knock.'

"Doctor, may I come in?"

Yet again, nothing was heard. 

"Doctor, pardon me, I'm entering."

With a firm twist of the doorknob and a gentle push, Amiya peeked curiously into his office. 

The warm tender sunset had the Doctor fixed on the distance before him. From that grand office with that grandeur view, he sipped on that rich roasted cappuccino and was rooted to where he stood, unphased by Amiya's entrance. That swell sensation of his drink perked him up. He wanted a long-deserved break and could only curse time for crawling ever so slowly. His sunken eyes were weighed down with his eye bags, his sight strained, and his body felt slightly heavy. With the cup warming up his hands, he sipped once more and let the thoughts paced in his head. The soft strumming from his playlist did not help him.

He wondered. What good will it do if he chased his past? It bothered him. He knew that well enough that his past, or whatever it was to him, bothered him. Ironically it was because he had not a single clue about it, and he hated it. No traces of his past personal life, no strings of his past achievements, not even a single shred of his past love life or relationships. All he knew from the start was that he woke up and assumed his role.

Woe for him, for his questions kept demanding for answers. Was he truly the tactical commander of R.I, or was he merely a puppet in the greater scale of it all? 

Another sip dripped down his throat and a soft hand wrapped around his arm which had him startled. 

'How melodramatic', he thought to himself. 

The thought of the annual party did not leave his mind, but he was preoccupied with other matters at hand. Much more personal pressing matters.

Amiya paused and scrutinised his face. She was familiar with that face, with his crow's feet and short stubs by his jaw, with those sparkling eyes that often got doused off by his weary eyelids. Beyond that flamboyant and happy-go-lucky side was a side he hid to many of his colleagues. A side he was ashamed to have. This time was no different. It was written all over his face.

"Doctor? Are you feeling alright?" Amiya asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Y-Yes, Amiya." He patted her head and saw her twinkling eyes piercing him. "Thank you for your concern. May I ask why you're here?"

"I want to inform you that our meeting is in an hour's time and wondered if you need help."

"Ah. Thank you." 

He glanced back out of the window. 

"What's wrong?" She, whose voice as soft as cotton and fluff, reached out.

"Nothing." He, whose voice in contrast a much more husky voice, replied.

His averted gaze was telltale. "Tell me, Doctor. Something is troubling you." 

"I didn't sleep well last night. Wish I could doze off and nap a bit but you know, work is work."

"Doctor."

"It's fine, Amiya. Nothing's wrong. I promise you."

"Your promise is broken as fast as you made them, Doctor." Her hands tightened around his arm. Not too hard, as if she merely tensed up. "Please. I wish to help you."

"Amiya…"

She pouted. Her unwavering stare melted him. 

"I… Alright." 

The Doctor basked in the view one last time before guiding Amiya to another corner of his office, a corner where anyone was granted the privilege to indulge in unwinding after a long day. 

His office, balancing the delicate balance between work and entertainment, was a bit cluttered in its lovely own way. Sectioned, cornered and strangely arranged, it was home to him.

One section, themed with the mundane office work, had his and his assistant's desks sticking around with the cabinets of files and the messy noticeboard pinning different associations, factions and key targets. 

The other section was inspired to be a mini lounge much to Kal'tsit disapproval. Neat and pristine shelf filled with fashion magazines, the PlayStation 7 coupled with a huge LED TV, any assistant would love to chill here. It was a temporary haven for anyone, especially for him.

He plopped on the sofa and reclined back on it. A sigh of relief was let out of him; he needed to kick back. If only though. 

Amiya gestured towards the empty coffee cup, to which Doc politely waved his hand. She shuffled next to him gracefully. 

"Would you like some coffee?"

"No thank you, Doctor."

He chuckled, "Even through everything, you have been so patient and caring through and through."

She returned with a smile, "The welfare of others is my priority. If you are happy, then I am too."

He patted her head once again. Who could resist such a temptation? 

"Amiya, before I delve into it, may I ask a personal question?"

She nodded. 

"If, let's say, you were to lose your identity, how would you feel?"

"... Lose your identity?"

"Yes. Let's say on one fine day, you realise that you were not exactly yourself. What you think you are isn't true and what you think you know about yourself isn't clear to you. What will you do?"

Her eyes wandered off to the coffee cup and furrowed her eyebrows a bit. "Is it about your amnesia again?"

Doctor nodded, looking away from her.

Amiya rested her hands on his. Instinctively, he flinched but pinned his hand down.

"... You are still just as troubled about it as you were months ago, aren't you, Doctor?"

No words but a simple nod was his answer. 

She could not help herself and rested her head on his shoulder, with her hands curling around his arm.

"Still that stubborn Doctor I knew through and through, but you are still the Doctor we need."

She smiled. 

"Truth be told, Doctor, if I were to lose my memories and forget who I was, I wouldn't be as mortified. I will remember who I was again from the friendships and relationships I shared with everyone here. Who I was depends on the people I cared about. Who I will be depends on the same people who care about me too." 

"I wonder how someone as young as you can become so mature."

"It comes with experience. I helped Kal'tsit deal with her patient and medical personnel."

"Still, you understand my fears of being amnesiac."

"Of course. Anyone would be scared."

His shoulders relaxed a bit. "Then… Who was I to you back then, Amiya?"

"Mmm… For starters, you were not as lively as you are right now. You were also not as compassionate and friendly. All you ever did was hole up in your office and focused on war games and operation preparations."

"Doesn't sound fun at all."

"Yep. I prefer the Doctor I have right now."

He sighed, "I understand, but I had a lot of time to think about it and I am bothered with the murky details about everything."

"Like what?"

"My awakening from my coma that day when you all were sent to rescue me." He hunched forward, "Why me specifically? What exactly was I capable of? Who was I before becoming a tactician? Who was I? What were my relationships before? It haunts me to this day that I had no clue of it all..."

Amiya, in turn, patted his head. 

"... As if I am not even a real person. As if I am merely some protagonist centralised in this play, in this game, but not my own character. Who am I exactly?" His head hung low. 

Silence filled the room for the time being. 

It was hard for her to find the right words to string and piece up. What else could she say? Was there any fault for anyone to unearth their past? Was it a waste of time to chase what had been done? What last straws was there for him to cling on for a clue? She pondered on her options. 

It stung him. What he said can never be retracted. Terrified of what Amiya's response may be, he tensed up and braced himself. It was desperate of him to claw out any possible answers or leads from anyone, especially from her. His heart, as if coiled by barbed wire, ached badly with every beat. Never had he felt ashamed for being so stubborn. 

He thought for months. He thought for a long time. His memories failed to fetch the time when he started to think about it. Throughout these peaceful times, one would wonder what was the next step. Collectively, the next step was to beckon the common cause of R.I. and treat the Infected, person by person. Generally, the next step was to clean up the mess throughout the war-torn continent and pave the new way for the future.

Personally for the Doctor? No answer was enough for him. 

He wondered what is next for him and him only. 

"Doctor..."

Her voice, crisp and graceful, like music to his ears, called forth. 

"... You are you."

His sight caught Amiya's. 

"As cliché as it may sound, you are you. You have been yourself, your true self, ever since your awakening. Ever since your awakening, you have this bright and determined commander that loved everyone as much as they loved you." 

She stood up and faced him.

"You are right. You have a right to chase your past and learn about yourself. You want to go back and know who you were back then. I will not deny that. However, what I wish to convey is that with your amnesia, you now have a clean slate. From then on, you are a new person and you can be whoever you wish to be. For you, you are not a person who lacks an identity or meaning. Right now, for you, you are nothing and everything."

She picked up his coffee cup and refilled it with a steaming hot batch. 

The steam lifted his face up. 

"From now on, you are you. You are truly you. You never lost yourself. You now have an identity, and that is you."

He accepted the coffee and took a sip.

It lifted his spirits. 

"Amiya," he croaked out, "thank you."

"You are welcome, Doctor."

"I still would like to know my past, but I suppose I can be myself, for myself now."

"I'm glad to hear that." She extended her hand, "we have to attend a meeting, and it would be great if we are early to discuss and finalise the itinerary beforehand."

He stood up without pulling her hand. Instead, he patted her head again. 

She blushed. 

"I wonder what to do now though. I never thought of doing what I want. All I focus on is everyone here."

"May I teach you violin?"

"No thank you, these fingers were not as nimble as they used to be."

"How about a bout at games?"

"Amiya, with all due respect, I am the tactical commander of Rhodes Island. Trust me when I say that I can outplay anyone here."

The youthful bunny girl tapped on her chin playfully. As if a light bulb beamed the room with her energised luminescence, she flicked her eyes on him. 

"Doctor, is there anyone you like?"

Doc froze up. "Excuse me?"

An innocent smile erupted on her face. He rubbed his eyes and eyed her down. "How absurd it was to change the tone like this. Why the question?"

"To simply put it, why not get a girlfriend?"

His eyes widened. "Preposterous. Do we not have to keep our work professional?"

"Ah, no worries, Doctor. I am not here to confess. I'm more intrigued who you fancy." 

"The sentiment still applies to every operator here."

Much to his concern, her innocent smile evolved to a smug spread on her face. 

"Correct. By right, we have to uphold our professionalism, but considering how life is, it will not come as a shock if there were any violations to the unsaid rule."

"Such as?"

"Mostima and Exusiai, Bison getting Ara Ara'd by the older ladies, Vigna and Projekt Red scouting out for friends, Lappland, Sora and her talent agenc-"

"Alright. Alright. I have heard enough." He sat back down and sipped another drop. "Never would I thought you would be interested in such gossip." 

She giggled. 

"It is natural for a young girl like me. So, who are you interested in?" She tilted her head to the side, inquisitive of what answer she may receive.

"No one comes to mind."

"Really now? The majority of us operators are outstanding women, so I find it weird that you do not have at least a crush on any of us."

"My God, Amiya."

"What about vanguard operator Texas? You have had her as an assistant for two months now."

"I…" He caught his tongue before disclosing what need not be shared. "Professional reasons."

Her lips trembled. "Professional reasons."

"Platonic. Purely platonic."

"Professional reasons."

"Amiya."

She let out a hearty laugh, "I'm sorry, Doctor, I cannot help myself to it." 

He felt himself heating up in his modest overcoat, blushing naively. 

"Do you see her as a friend though?"

"Of course. I mean, yea, she is a good friend of mine at this point." 

She remained silent, but her eyeing down on the Doctor had him unsettled in his seat.

"She's cool. I like that she can work efficiently and is easily dependable."

She was still silent.

"She's… She's cute." 

"OH SO YOU DO HAVE A CRUSH ON HER."

"AMIYA! I MEAN, EVERYONE IS CUTE HERE. NOTHING MUCH I CAN SAY, CAN I?"

She laughed out loud for the office to hear. 

"I understand, Doctor." She hinted them both to the door. "Now, shall we head to the reception room to rendezvous with everyone?"

"Yes. Let's."

Chapter Text

The night loomed over and that vast bottomless black sea above all settled in. Those softly twinkling stars, those shiny white spots sparse across the entire dark canvas, were sprinkled throughout. Anyone could have paused and admired how endless the night was. A small person as compared to the depths of space and universes before them. 

And with that, the sizzling of a wick shed light and its familiar high-pitched noise screeched. 

BANG. 

BANG. BANG. BANG.

That black canvas was painted, or even littered, with sparks and those dazzling radiance. Shredding through the night were those warm colours: that vibrant red, that joyful yellow, that familiar orange. The colours came and went, shined and faded. Once a wave of light faded off into the darkness, another wave popped into the sky. All the operators below them, young or old, were absorbed by it. Never had the fireworks display tire them.

With that, the annual R.I. party commenced. 

With that, Texas' face mildly glowed up before she was ambushed by her lovely friend from behind. Those small frail arms wrapped around her and she snickered ever so cutely. 

"Texas! Guess who?" That theatrical, endearing voice chirped to her. 

She let out a small smirk. "Who else uses that girly perfume? Good evening to you, Sora."

Sora pranced to the front and beamed with glee. Much to Texas' curiosity, she boasted quite the feminine yukata. "Bingo! For that, you earn a prize."

"Prize? What is it?"

"Would you like to guess again?"

She raised both eyebrows, "... You?" 

"Bingo, bingo, bingo! For that, you earn another prize."

"Don't tell me." 

"Hehe, just playing with you. Your prize, besides a lovely night with me, is a stack of Pocky and my upcoming album that will be released very soon. See, it even has my signature here. You could definitely sell this for easy money."

Texas held the CD with both hands and simpered, "As if I can sell something this valuable to me. Thank you very much, Sora."

She giggled from the compliment, "As long as you keep it away from Croissant."

"Trust me, she got the memo not to mess with the aux in the car." She pocketed the CD and cracked open the Pocky box, "Anyways, why are you wearing that?"

"This?" She gave it a twirl, "I have always wanted to wear one since I was a kid. My agency never gave me the chance to wear it since I have to attend concerts back to back. I've been waiting to wear it. I love it. It reminds me of home. What do you think?"

Her white yukata bore a bright pink sakura petal pattern down her robe, with a matching yellow obi and a faint P.L. crest embroidered to her left collarbone. It hugged her petite figure.

"It looks great on you." 

"Hehe, thank you. Hey, hey, how about we both head back to your dorm and I will help you wear your kimono."

She trembled for a brief moment by the idea. "No thank you, I prefer not to." 

"Alrighty. Whenever you have a change of heart," Sora flashed her the phone gesture, "You know where to call me."

"Of course. Beyond that, where is everyone else?"

"From what I heard from Emperor, Croissant and Bison are at the Creator's Hub selling their merchandise."

"Unsurprising." 

"Mostima and Exusiai are together, so we can't butt in."

"Of course." 

"Emperor Penguin himself will be performing for tonight's performance. He is going to rap."

"Colour me surprised. This is the first year I'm hearing that he isn't wolfing down on sashimi."

"Ahhhhhh, about that…"

"Right. Of course. He will be wolfing down on the sashimi before the performance."

"Bingo."

"Do I get a prize for that too?"

They both chuckled. 

"What about you, Sora? Who are you going with?"

She retracted herself for a bit, with a shade of coy over her, "Since everyone has someone, I was wondering if you can buddy up with me for the night. If you don't mind, if you're not busy and all. I want to spend some more time with you."

Texas held her shoulder, "I would love to."

"Thank you, Texas."

Finally, with that, they entered the party officially, after a security clearance check from Doberman by the entrance. 

~~~

The annual party was hosted on the largest helipad available on the landship. It granted all the crisp and rejuvenating air with the cool breeze brushing them, mixed with that intoxicating festive atmosphere. Taking reference from various conferences hosted throughout the year, (whether it be a strictly professional networking conference, or this year's Hobbyist Festival), the party was designed for everyone by everyone. 

Radiating that golden orange aura, the aisles were hectic and flooded with seas of personnel and operators gawking over the goodies on the stalls. Wafting in that cool breeze was that succulent smell of food that had everyone sink their teeth in. What else did anyone expect? Rhodes Island, the melting pot of the different factions, coming together to celebrate diversity and, above all, community. That, by itself, promised the stretched out strips of food vendors throughout. The highlight of the evening, the on-stage acts and performances, was soon to come. All was set for everyone to have their spirits in the festive mood. 

"First up, the Creator's Hub." Sora cheerfully chirped. 

"Yep. I wonder how Bison is holding up."

Wading through the crowds, had it not been for the lively Bison suffocating and struggling in Gitano's "Orbs", they would have missed it. 

"Well…"

"Another day in the life of Bison. Lucky guy." Sora, stumped by the sight of someone suffering as such, whispered. 

"Yo, Baws! Thanks for helpin' me out, alright? How 'bout ya think of the offer I hit ya up with? Buy in bulk 'n ya get a 20% discount off the bat, by yers truly. Ain't I such a good dealer to y'all, right, Bison?" Croissant jumped off her chair and echoed through the crowds with that whimsically bouncy accent of hers. 

"Help…" Bison drew his head away as far as his spine allowed it, "... Me…" 

"Aw, golly, I see where yer headin' with this. Ain't ya a noble boy, Bison. Tell ya what, Gitano. 50K LMD upfront 'n 5K as daily installments for the week, 'n you can have Bison to love for the week. Sounds good?"

Much to Bison's horror, she had no complaints or qualms over that. 

What's worse for him? She was pulling out her wallet. 

He toiled even harder to get out.

The horror for him.

His body was not ready. 

Texas cleared her throat which paused the scene before them. "Sorry, Gitano, but I will need him for tomorrow's shifts. I need him well rested tonight."

"Ara ara~ Of course, dear Texas. I understand. Promise me I still have him in the end though." Gitano loosened her clutches to which Bison recoiled hard and away from her. 

"That, I cant promise you."

"Awww, all is well either way. Such as it is. I will see you later, my cute Bison." With a farewell kiss on the cheek to the flustered lad, she vanished into the crowd.

Bison wiped the subtle fair hue of the lipstick off his cheek, still blushing hard like a tomato. "Why me?"

He flicked his sights to the now whistling Croissant, chin up and eyes away from him. 

"Why were you selling me out?" His voice was trembling.

"Eh, I mean she's a regular 'round my shop, had to reel her in with my most valuable treasure to get the ball rollin'."

Bison's mouth dropped. 

"It was all for fun, ye? Ya didn't get hurt and tis' be all a joke. I mean, of course I can't sell ya away like that, right? Ehe…" 

Texas stood there, arms crossed and with a blank expression. Not a single word was spared for the scene. 

"A'ight, a'ight, but 'ey, at least ya didn't get sold off. Bygones be bygones now."

Bison pitifully stared at her.

"Fine, I'll treat ya a fine dandy drink after work, ye?"

"I'll hold you to it."

"Atta boy."

"So, whatcha selling, Croissant?" Sora peeped behind Texas.

"Ayy, isn't it the lovely Sora. C'mere now and let me welcome ya to our humble shop, manned by me n' Bison, Mr Lover Boy."

She roared with laughter by Bison's glare. 

"Don'tcha sour up on me, boyyo. Anyways, what we had here are what ya would love to have hanging on yer walls, chilling in yer room, whichever suits ya. We got antiques across the globe, from our ferocious ladies from the Ursus faction to W's adventures in Reunion lines. If that ain't your interest…"

She dug through her valuables below the table to pull out some raunchy magazines. 

"... From yers truly, Deepcolour. Golly, gets ya excited with how detailed her drawings are. Whatcha say?"

Texas and Sora eyed each other, confused by the selection before them. "Do you have anything less 'exotic' per se?"

"Aye, beyond that, we don't have much to offer for ya. Anything you wanna request? We can help ya search for it."

"No, it's alright. Sora and I were checking up on you guys. I assume business is running smoothly?"

"For sure, we are rollin' in dough right now, all thanks to this young lad right here. He's a real charmer with the ladies here." 

Bison looked away and tried to hide his pride but it was obvious. 

"You know, I feel bad for you, Bison. Why are you always paired up with Croissant?" Sora tweeted. 

"She needed help and I wanted to help. That is all. I'd prefer it if she didn't start selling me out to Gitano and Orchid." 

Croissant snickered.

"Alright then, we will head off to see what else is there. Take care now, Croissant and Bison."

"Take care now, Texas." Bison bowed slightly.

"Our pleasure seein' ya, Tex'." Croissant shot her with a teasing smile.

Texas had a shrewd crooked smile.

As they walked away, Sora, as smugged as she could be, leisurely glanced at her. "Tex'?"

"Do not call me that."

"Alright then. Next stop, the modelling booths."

"Excuse me, big sis." A small singsong voice reached out to them. 

It was Suzuran, alongside Durin, Popukar and Myrtle at their booth. 

"Can we ask you to buy our drawings please? It's very cheap and nice to look at. It is only 5 LMD." 

Their crayon doodles were very simple and earnest like a kindergartener's, with stickmen and stickwomen, giant flowers and rainbows. 

One drawing even had the Penguin Logistics crew. All six of them.

It even had Texas with big ember eyes and the floating captions "Cool Big Sis"

It also had Sora with a lot of sparkles and the floating captions "Kind Gentle Big Sis".

Everyone was holding hands and were smiling so widely under a crudely drawn P.L logo. 

Sora and Texas both had a heart attack by how cute it is.

They had to buy one. 

No exceptions. They had to buy one.

"Thank you, big sis! We hope to see you again." Myrtle flamboyantly waved them goodbye with her hand blanketed by her oversized shirt.

While they silently exited the Creator's Hub, they unknowingly shared the same sentiment. 

'Too cute.'

~~~

Thanks to many interested to revamp their fashion styles, a grand boutique was implemented. Sponsored by Epoque, Cambrian, 0011 and all other notable brands, this was a one-stop shop for all. Catered for all, men or women, young or old, it bedazzled any and all patrons. Any style one wished for was what one will get. To reel in even more customers, Silverash and Shining were their runway divas for the night, mesmerising any passer-by that caught a glimpse of them. It even had Texas hooked in. She shied away and diverted her eyes away, but this scarlet red blouse paired with a grayish black tie melted her coy demeanour. 

"Ah, welcome to my boutique, Ms Texas. Please enjoy your time here." That soft-spoken, reserved and withdrawn voice called her out.

"Thank you, Bibeak. Truth be told, I have never seen dresses and suits this beautiful before." 

"T-Thank you…" Bibeak humbly bowed down, "I will do even better next year. If I may, may I assist you in choosing an outfit?" 

Her hands drew the combination that caught her eyes from the racks. "If you don't mind, I would like to try this on."

"Not bad, Texas," Sora rubbed her chin, entertained by this side of her, "Going for that sexy style now?"

She shot a glare back at her. "Of course not. I only wish to try a more professional look."

"Mmm," Her fidgety companion smirked, "I wonder what the Doctor will say to that."

"Sora."

"C'mon, every girl is betting that you two get together by the end of the year. I'm already betting 100 LMD on you."

"The Doctor and I share a strictly professional relationship."

"Um…" Bibeak spoke out of line, "If I may, I think that you two are quite suited for each other."

"See? See? Bibeak gets the same idea."

Texas sighed. "I understand the sentiment, but it is far from what you both envision. It is nothing like that."

"C'mon, we are rooting for you. Think of it this way: the Doctor, torn by his inner consciousness for he could not remember his past, while you stand there, strained by the past you wish to forget altogether. You two forged their bonds through the common cause of Rhodes Island and forevermore become true companions. Once more will they intertwine in this spiralling forbidden dance and will fall into each other's arms and…"

Texas flicked her fingers on her head. "You have been reading too much shoujo mangas lately."

Sora rubbed her forehead, "It's every girl's dream of falling in love with a prince."

"Ah, my apologies." Bibeak muttered out of the slight shame she felt. "If I may, may I help you choose something to match your blouse?"

Texas hesitated. 

She thought otherwise. It was her night to unwind. 

"I'd love to."

With that, Texas was escorted to the fitting room. Bibeak feverishly mixed and matched apparels and clothing on her. She hoisted an array of clothing for her to doll her up. 

"First and foremost, the swimsuit." She sharply measured her bust and waist.

"What? Wait, I don't need a swimsuit." She barked with humiliation from the dressing room. 

"Yes you do." Sora beamed a cheeky smile. 

"Yo. What's up, Sora?" Mostima, with a tipsy Exusiai in her arms, inquired. 

"Yooo. Texas is trying on new clothes."

"Now that is something to be excited about." Exusiai, with her head swaying ever so slightly, had her phone ready for some photos. 

"Are you…?" Sora asked.

"Yes, she is."

"Ah. Right." She was happy enough not to be Exusiai's drinking buddy. "You guys are dating for the night, right?"

"Correct. Exia was particularly excited for the performances tonight so she bought the front row tickets for the both of us." 

"You bet I want to spend the night with her." 

Mostima pecked her on the cheek. "I know you do."

"Awww, aren't you two cute together."

"Ladies," Bibeak dashed out of the fitting room, "May I introduce you to, what I would like to title as, "Fire and Ice"?"

Lo and behold, the curtains were drawn and there stood a flustered Texas. Her arms were desperate to cover her but it was futile. Her blossoming figure was exposed to all in a two-piece bikini. The audience gawked as the black, red-striped bikini somehow amplified her modest bust and her prudent waist. It was a sight to behold, for no one had ever seen her without decent clothing. Her soft ample skin, her fine balance between petite and lean, her slim midriff and legs, her slender neck, all were exposed for all to cherish. 

"P-Please don't look at me."

Sora and Exusiai's phones snapped a shot of it all. 

"Wh- Delete those photos at once!" Her ears twitched. 

"Man, the boss has to see this." Exusiai giggled. 

"You look absolutely stunning." Sora sneered. 

Mostima whistled. 

"Pardon me." With that, Bibeak returned to her fitting room and drew the curtains closed. 

"How much do you think Croissant will sell these for?" 

"I heard that!" Texas shouted.

"It was Exusiai's idea, not mine."

After a bit of commotion in the fitting room, it went silent. 

The trio eyed each other and wondered what was next in line. 

"Now," Bibeak dashed out in the same manner, "May I introduce you to, what I would call, "Razor Sharp"?"

Lo and behold, the curtains were drawn once again. This time, it stood a fierce Texas. Her blood-rich red blouse with that sleek dark undershirt flared up that composed intensity in her eyes. Her black blazer, loose in contrast of that fitting blouse, beefed up that intimidating appearance. Her black gurkha shorts were just right for her, but it amplified the length of those firm thighs. The cherry on top were those full-on bright red gloves and her hair tied up to a ponytail. Each article complimented and contrasted each piece.

"Dressed to impress. Dressed to kill." Bibeak was apparently proud. They can tell by her chest puffed up.

"Not bad. Not. Bad. At. All." Mostima applauded. 

"Wow. Just. Wow." Exusiai followed suit.

"What a beauty. You know, if Doctor sees you like this, you would have wooed him over already." Sora took her time to scrutinise every small aspect of her attire. 

"Again, Sora, I'm not planning to woo him over. Although, I won't lie. I do like this attire. I would like to purchase this, Bibeak."

"Thank you for your patronage, Ms Texas. This way over to the counter please."

"Alright, it's time to part ways here. We will see you two around." Mostima waved cool at Sora. 

"Bye bye…" Exusiai hiccupped, "Mostima, I want more apple cider."

"Yes, yes, we're heading to the brewery."

As Sora watched them walk off, her tummy rumbled. 

"Are they gone?" Texas returned to her side.

Sora, amused by Texas' fashion show, nodded, "Ooo, still in your 'Razor-Sharp' attire? By my side, you look like my bodyguard, sent here to protect this youthful princess as she charts against this rising tide of men and women before them."

Texas was already preparing to flick her forehead, to which Sora promptly halted. 

"No more, please." She squeaked.

Texas smirked before snatching yet another pocky stick. 

"Shall we proceed, my princess?"

Sora's eyes widened briefly before being completely embezzled by her, "My prince."

Texas shuddered a bit, but played along the role. 

She did not want to know how her fujoshi of a friend was imagining her. 

~~~

To restore their strength for the night, they headed to the buzzing cafeteria. By far, this was the most popular destination for all. Truly the heart of the party, this was where delicacies, local or foreign, flew off the woks and stoves. From Nian's spicy and fiery dishes that scalded any tongue, to Matterhorn's fresh and herbal recipes, to Ifrit's very own BBQ, every chef has their own brand, their own flavour, for all to dig in. The cherry on top was the confectionery, proudly manned by Blue Poison.

Texas and Sora grabbed their seats nearby after buying their meals. 

"Who knew Blue Poison could bake?" 

"I did. Doctor praised her for her muffins when I chatted with him the other day. I tried it and it was nice." Texas confessed.

"Really? I always keep a distance due to her… You know." Sora lowered her head to her shoulders, "Not that I don't want to be friends with her. She seems like a sweet girl."

"I understand." Texas took a sip of her apple cider, "I'm happy that her deserts are getting popular now. Unfortunately, the type of cookies I liked sold out."

"Damn, now I want to try it." 

"You should ask her one day." Texas raised her chilled glass bottle, "Cheers for the night."

"Cheers." 

A clink for the toast and that bittersweet liquor went down their hatches. 

"Ahhh, so refreshing. My manager will never let me hear the end of it if he catches me here." Sora curled up a devious smile. 

"Not my type of drink, but it does warm me up quite nicely."

"Yep. It's just nice. You know, Texas, I never imagined you to be this friendly."

"Really? Why say so?"

"I mean, you were always so absorbed with your work and missions that you kept a distance from everyone. I get it though, you are our team leader after all."

"You're right." Texas gazed to the sky before biting on her roasted rosemary chicken, "I liked the work, but I learnt to like my colleagues too over time. However, tonight is a good time for me to stir away from work and get to know people more."

"Cheers to that. I'm happy to hear that." Sora let out a tender smile, "I'm glad."

"Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm doing alright. Why did you ask?"

Texas smiled subtly, "I want to check up on you."

"I'm okay, thanks for asking." Sora blushed. "I never got the chance to thank you."

"For?"

"Accompanying me to the festival." 

"It's nothing. I'm happy that you are happy."

"There is so much more I want to thank you, Texas. I really do."

"Why so? What else is there to thank me for?"

"I mean, ever since you saved my life from that one incident, I always felt indebted to you. That was one reason why I joined P.L. and eventually Rhodes and Island, so I can learn more from you. I'm eternally grateful for that."

Texas bowed her head, "I'm thankful to hear that but there is no need to return the favour."

"Don't be so humble. It's only fair that I express my gratitude to you. Why else do I fake my appearance to mimic a Lupo? You are that cool, Texas. I want to be just as strong as you and the others."

Texas raised her hands vertically, stopping her in her tracks, "I… There is no need for that, Sora. I appreciate it, but I would appreciate it more if you rely on your own strengths instead of being someone else. That way, you will shine even brighter."

Sora smiled bitterly from receiving such kind words from her. "That's why you're our team leader. Thank you."

Right on the spot, she chugged down her apple cider bottle. 

"I will continue to work hard for everyone in Penguin Logistics, so I am counting on you, Texas." 

Texas raised her bottle for the merry moment before taking a gulp. 

They both grinned. 

"By the way, how are things between you and the Doctor?" 

"Again, I have nothing for him."

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, are you two purely colleagues or are you guys friends?"

"I…" Texas was perplexed, "I suppose we are…"

Two months worth of memories of her close experience with the Doctor flashed before her. She remembered how she cleaned up his mess. She also remembered how she came to work with a little treat waiting on her desk. She recalled the times he was scolded to all hells by Kal'tsit. She also recalled the times he spent quality time with Suzuran, Eyja, Amiya and Blue Poison, teaching them about various topics. It was funny to her, how she spent two months with him and yet never felt like the friendship had solidified. As if they did not close the gap between them. What would she call the relationship she shared then? Friends? Acquaintances? Colleagues? 

"Truth be told, I don't know. I guess we are friends? I don't have a solid answer. I'm sorry."

"Oh. No worries about it. I just wanted to know." 

Sora checked her luxury wristwatch, "Snap, it's already 8pm and I have to head off already. They are taking attendance backstage and I need to be there. I'll see you there?" 

Texas gave the OK gesture. 

"Great. See you there. Don't be late, I want to see you." 

With that, Sora dashed off to the distance. 

Texas bit off another juicy bite from her chicken. 

Were they friends or mere acquaintances?

The thought troubled Texas.

She did not give it much thought. She felt no need to. All she knew was to report to his office to work on the details, agenda and itinerary for the next upcoming events and operation managements. Beyond that, she always had turned him down for lunch or any extracurricular activities because it did not interest her. 

She wondered why she was entertaining the thoughts altogether. 

Indeed, she was insulted to hear about his scheme of recovering his past in exchange for her past being reconciled and levelled with. First impression was that she was a mere pawn. Such as it was on the surface. How would he even patch up her pasties if he knew nothing about it? Yet, she never inquired about his intentions. Was it that she misinterpreted his intentions? Why was he so adamant, so persistent about it? 

Beyond that, she never knew him as a person. She only knew that he was not a terrible person or some conniving manipulative conman. He was merely a man. His guess on her hobbies, interests and personality was as good as the other way around.

She wondered how she will close the distance between them. 

Did she want to be friends with him in the first place?

She leaned on the tabletop and let her eyes scan through the area.

There he stood. Alone and admiring the view over the sea, with that golden brown shot of whisky in his hand. 

She wondered if this was her chance. 

Did she want to be friends with him in the first place?

"Fuck it."

She downed her apple cider, stood up and strided towards him. 

Tonight was the night she took her chance.

Tonight was her night.

Chapter Text

As she approached the railing, keeping Doctor at an arm's length, she watched him remain ever still.

Per every encounter, she expected him to pounce on her with that signature bright yet badgering personality of his. He revelled in his initiative. He always made the first move. 

For tonight, however, he remained mute in his position. His eyes were glued to those distant crashing waves that came to and fro. 

"Doctor." 

"Ah. Evening, Texas. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes." He sipped on his single malt whisky, "What brings you here?"

"I noticed you were by yourself. I was surprised no one was here to accompany you, like Amiya, Eyjafjalla or Blue Poison."

"Fair point." The Doctor faced her with those sunken eyes, "Unfortunately, they all have been caught up with their own plans. Eyja is at the Creator's Hub selling her volcanic fissure sample collection, Blue Poison is handling her confectionery, and Amiya is preparing her violin solo backstage. I'm happy for them."

"I see. Good for them." Texas leaned on the safety railing too. She fetched another Pocky stick.

"What about you, Texas? I assume you were hanging out with your Penguin Logistics colleagues?"

"They were busy too." She scoffed softly. She wished not to explain any bit of what she experienced for the past hour. "They have their plans."

"I see. Why come to me then?"

Texas looked away, "I figured some company would be nice."

Doctor's glance softened. He sipped again, "Thank you. I mean, if you don't mind spending your evening with me, then by all means." 

"I do not mind at all."

"Would you like a drink?" 

Texas' eyes flinched back to the empty bottle of apple cider on her table, "I would like to."

"What would you like to have? Homebrew apple cider? Drinks are on me."

Texas shot her glance at his drink, "Whichever whisky you are having tonight please."

He raised an eyebrow, "That is quite out of character for you. Sure you can handle it?"

"I can hold my liquor."

"I don't doubt it, but I have never seen you drink."

"True." She smiled sweetly, "Tonight, I am giving it a shot."

"Color me intrigued. Alright then."

Doctor raised his hand to Lancet-2 for another glass and a refill for his. Lancet-2 leisurely drove to the bar counter. 

Texas extended her arm to offer him a Pocky stick, to which he meekly drew one. The Doctor bowed courteously, to which she modestly returned.

"So…"

"So."

"So…" 

The silence filled in between them.

"Nice weather we're having?"

"Yes. Yes we are."

"Good that it isn't raining and all. It would have been a nightmare otherwise."

"Yes."

He sipped another shot as she bit off another Pocky stick.

"Do you smoke?"

"Of course not."

"I see. It's just you always have a Pocky on standby, so I wanted to ask."

"It's fine. I get that question often. It is to replenish my energy."

"Fair enough. Let me lighten the topic then: What is your favourite type of Pocky?"

She tapped on the railing, pondering. "I'm not too sure. I don't have a favourite type per se. It's whichever Pocky stick I can get."

"Have you tried hazelnut then?"

"Yes, but it's too nutty and crunchy for me. It gets stuck between my teeth."

"True. Strawberry then?"

"It's… How do I phrase it? I can't indulge in it. It tastes a bit too… Too 'girly'?"

"Too fruity?"

"Something like that."

"Fair enough. Changing the question: Weirdest flavour you ever tasted?"

"Wasabi."

Doctor's face soured up by the mere thought of it, "What the… What kind of… What a blasphemous flavour."

Texas gagged a bit remembering it, "Another one of Emperor's antics. A gift from Wei Yan Wu himself."

"Another reason why I steer away from Lungmen dishes. Some are good, but others are a bit too exotic." The Doc swirled the melting ice within his glass.

"Would you like to try it?"

"I would pass on the chance to get food poisoning, or even my tongue corroding by the taste."

Texas giggled, "How rude to reject a gift from Wei Yan Wu himself. He would feel insulted to hear."

Doctor had the hand holding his glass to his chest with the other hand reaching out to the sea, "I, with my humbled and honoured soul, have to urge, with every cell in my body, to reject such a blessing from the grand Wei Yan Wu himself, for I believe to be undeserving."

Texas lifted her Pocky stacks up to the sky, "You, as of the esteemed tactician of the fortified Rhodes Island, are deserving of such an exquisite gift."

Doctor retracted his body in an absurd fashion, "It is within my judgment that you are poorly mistaken, for I am undeserving. Not of receiving the gift of wasabi Pocky sticks, but more so I am undeserving of seeing the Heavens that quick."

The sea before them twinkled as bright as the stars themselves, as if it was a mirror on its own. It twinkled as captivating as the gleaming twinkle in Texas's eyes as she laughed heartily to the impromptu skit.

That by itself had him smiling too.

"How's life so far, Texas?"

"Pleasant enough."

"What about you and your compadres?"

"They are alright. They remain rowdy, but it's nice that they haven't changed much. I like it that way."

"Same old Penguin Logistics?"

"Yes." 

"I'm happy to hear that, especially with Bison as the new addition to the team, albeit temporarily."

"I believe he will be staying with us for the foreseeable future. After what transgressed from the Code of Brawl, his father allowed him to remain as a collaborator under our wing."

"The young lad proved his worth. I suppose he got quite attached to you all then."

"You could say that. However, I feel bad that he takes the brunt of all our antics."

"Do you think he sees it as a blessing or a curse?"

Texas smiled, "Take a guess."

Her shoulders loosened and her face glowed a bit more, "Still, although he is a greenhorn, he remains studious. It comes to no surprise that he and Croissant clicked."

"I heard about it. Do you think they would date?"

"Not in a million years."

"Considering their resilience, they might." A cheeky smile erupted on Doctor's face.

Her insolent smile flashed in return.

"How's Exusiai and Mostima then?"

"Nothing new. Still as lovey-dovey as ever. Exusiaia is getting wasted for the festival, and I fear for Mostima's stamina later on."

"I'm sure she will catch up to her. Sora?"

"She's happy. I'm wondering how to help her further in her studies and her ventures in her concerts. She demonstrated interest in close quarter combat lately, but I'm terrified to lay a finger on her."

"Wise of you to not risk breaching her agency's conditions," his expression was a lot milder than before, "What about you though? How are you?"

"I'm fine. Nothing much to do so far."

"That is true. Everything has been quiet so far. All we can do now is to prioritise our research and produce a cure for the infections."

Texas nodded.

"It warms my heart, though, to hear you care much about your colleagues. It displays your compassionate leadership in the team."

"Thank you, Doctor. May I ask about your contacts then?"

"I have too many to care for. Which one in particular are you interested in?"

"Mmm. Suzuran?"

"She has been doing well. Besides Amiya, I am in charge of her education. So far, she has been doing very well studying English and Sciences. She struggles a bit in Algebra, but so far, so good."

"That's cute of her."

"It is."

The curious Doctor, feeling a bit of a buzz, was fixated on Texas' new attire. 

"That cutting and attire style. Epoque?"

"Yes. It was from Bibeak's boutique."

"You look beautiful in it."

"I'm not." Texas was stumped by the compliment. 

"You are. I swear on it. It's as if you are about to assume my position."

"Please. You are being too kind."

"I'm not. I'm just being honest." The Doctor noticed her other purchase, "May I ask what is in your carrier bag?"

Texas blushed to a crimson red, "Oh that. It is none of your concern."

"Ahh. The 'Fire and Ice' swimsuit?"

"Wha…"

Doctor flashed his smartphone, "Exusiai sent me the snapshot of you in it. I believe she mistook my contact for Emperor Penguin."

He noticed the pouting Texas pumping a vein on her forehead. "No worries though. I have deleted the photo and will reprimand her about it the following morning, if you want me to."

"There's no need for that, Doctor." Texas regained her poised composure, "It was all for mere entertainment."

"Really now?"

"Yes."

"Really now?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Doctor, with all due respect, you are starting to sound like Sora."

"Just teasing you." Doctor took a good sip with a warm blush on his cheeks, "Although I do find you sexy in it."

"Doctor."

"Relax, it was a joke. I don't want to ruin the mood, let alone face a sexual harassment complaint." Doctor's lips stretched out to each side of his cheek, with his eyebrows squared, as he blanked out and rambled on, "I don't want to imagine what Kal'tsit will do to me if she hears about it."

Texas smirked, "Does that mean I now have a trump card against you now?"

Doctor returned back the smugness, "Hey now. You are beginning to scare me."

"What if I am?"

"Yikes." He chuckled, "That is cold even from you."

Lancet-2 rolled back in with a fresh glass of whisky on the rocks. Doctor thanked the studious robot and passed Texas her glass before retrieving his. 

"Thank you, Doctor." She graciously accepted the glass.

"Cheers?" Doctor raised his glass before her.

"Cheers."

Their glasses clinked before they took a swig on their own.

Texas's natural icy glare melted by the bubbly heat within as the whisky hit her. It pricked her tongue and stung her throat. Never had she tasted a bitter drink like this. Never had she felt at ease too.

"When was the last time we had a conversation like this, Texas?"

"I can't remember."

"Same here. It is a pleasant change of pace, you think?"

She nodded her head.

"May I ask you a personal question, Doctor?"

"Feel free to."

"I want to hear your opinion about it." Texas hesitated briefly, "Let's say that we do find a cure for oripathy infection and we have established peace in this world. What would you do afterwards?"

Doctor returned his gaze from her to the sea that beckoned beyond the horizon.

He inhaled and held it in, with his eyes closed. He felt the air gather in the depths of his lungs. 

The fresh salty scent of seawater tingled his nostrils. 

He exhaled out, controlling the flow of air leaking out.

"Truth be told? I'm absolutely clueless about it." He gulped a generous volume, "I wonder about that too."

Texas faced away from Doctor back to the sea, "I'm sorry for asking."

"No worries. It was a good question."

In a festive atmosphere full of cheers and gung-ho, was it apt to ask? Was it rude? She did not anticipate this response. Her assumption that he had an answer ready for such a mellow question had crashed. 

She sipped her whisky sheepishly. 

"... Retiring doesn't sound too bad." He croaked.

"Retiring?"

"Yea. The golden dream, the common cause for all of us, was that treatment; the key to everyone's salvation. Once that has been achieved, I wish to step down and take a quieter path."

Texas was pensive. "What shall you do afterwards? What's your retirement plan?"

"Good question." He raised his gaze, "Find a wonderful woman to settle down with. Have a kid or two, preferably a son and daughter. Take care of them and see them grow up. Tell them stories of the valiant Arknights and how their father was the grand commandeer."

He popped a tiny smile.

Texas's head drew closer.

"However, all that can wait. I need to focus on what is happening right now. For now, alongside the projects and priorities of R.I. for further upgrades and breakthroughs, I need to focus on recalling my memories."

"I have been wondering about that. Why are you obsessed with retrieving your past memories?"

His gaze stretched out to the horizon.

"Think of it this way. Estranged from my own character, intertwined with this raging war, stoically trudging through each battleground, it had me wondering why I am here. As if I was designed to be a mere self-insert character, I lack my own personal identity or character. What else can I feel except I am a puppet in fate's hands?"

He gulped down on his whisky before fixing his sights again. 

"It's terrifying to entertain the thought of it all. Who was I before? Who was I when I was a kid? What did I love? Who did I love? What did I dream of? Next thing I know it, I wake up with Amiya greeting me. Ace too..."

He faced the crowd that gleefully drank away without a care.

"I'm stubborn. I'm pathetic. I'm chasing a fleeting dream out of my grasp. That was what I've been told. Yet, our own brethren sacrificed their lives for me, a man who knows nothing of himself, only to serve as an instrument of war. Isn't it a good start to investigate my past?"

His gaze returned to the sea.

"I will get it back. I know I will." He mumbled. 

"What's the point though?" Texas's voice went monotonous, "Wouldn't it be better to start anew? I rather you start on a clean slate and enrich your new life."

"That is true. I can choose to forget who I was and draft out an entire new character for myself. I could reinvent myself and become better."

He bit down on the glass as he drank another down the hatch. That stabbing taste. 

"Let me ask you a question then: What if Amiya had amnesia, or even Sora? They will face us with those frightened eyes and ask who we are to them. The fond memories we had. The friendship shared. Doesn't that tear your heart to be forgotten?"

Texas winced by the thought. Her eyebrows squinted. 

"I can't remember a single bit of my past, but I know that my family and friends had suffered because of it. It's not fair for everyone. I can't rest knowing that."

"You can. You have to understand that it has happened, and those friends and family you had are either gone or stayed by your side this entire. Regardless, whatever happened has happened and you have to move on from your past."

"That is exactly what has been gnawing at me. Either party has been forgotten by me. Look at Kal'tsit. She apparently knew me before the incident and my hunch is she was much warmer, and affectionate to me than now. Amiya, as much as she hides it, is hurt by it. Does it do them any good? Who was the reason for my ailment? My past, my foundation of my character, my bedrock, wasn't just for me. It was for everyone." 

"What about your identity now, here in Rhodes Islands with us? What about the cause? You woke up here fresh without a single shred of yourself and you wrote yourself a new character. You became our leader. You built this base with everyone through everything. I still can't understand how or even why you want to revert back to your old self."

"I don't want to be my old self again. I must know who I was and who I was with. Hell, I'll take a gander and say that if I retrieve my past, I may gain insight to end this struggle and find the cure for the infections." 

Texas sighed, "Everyone understands. Life is unfair. No one anticipated your loss of memory. What happened, happened. I mean, look at Amiya. She is happy to still have you through it all. That is what matters."

"I… I know." He tilted his head and he perched on the railing, "I don't know why I'm still stubborn about it. I still want to gun for it. My gut feeling is telling me to pursue it. I can't let it go."

His companion latched her sights back to the sea, "I understand. Still, I can't understand why."

"I… I just feel indebted by those who I forgot in the past, including my old self." His eyes drooped down, "No one wishes to be forgotten. It's cruel to be forgotten. Why else does everyone fight hard to leave their mark in their own histories?"

"Will this stop you from defining your future?"

"If I get struck with amnesia yet again and forget everyone, then what future can I fight for with you all?"

Texas had no riposte to that. She recollected her mindful breathing.

He had a point. 

'That was what he meant all this while,' She thought to herself. Truth be told, she had no idea what to feel towards it. Pity for the Doctor? Shame for her doubts? Anger for his bashfulness? Disappointed for his stubbornness?

Or was it admiration? 

"How will you get it back?" 

His eyes were filled with a tinge of motivation, "Clues are littered everywhere, from our archive files downstairs to classified information throughout the cities and wreckage we encountered. Lungmen, Chernobog, Reunion, Ursus, Columbia, Siracusan, virtually and potentially every corner of the world. All I need to do was to cut through the red tape and piece up the puzzle pieces."

"What made you think so?" 

"I awakened in Chernobog. It was possibly the worst location for me to lose my memories and the nature of my rescue meant I was in foreign grounds. That had me realising that my presence is at least on a national scale. It may even reach an international scale since Siracusan mafiaso and Ursus-native Reunion members had joined the fight."

"Then…" Texas paused, "Why invite me to assist you in regaining your past?"

Doctor gulped his drink down, finishing it to the last drop, "I trust that you are the only one who truly understood my ramblings."

She remained silent.

"Not due to your proficiency, your strict work ethics nor your personality. It's only because I trust you." 

"What about Amiya?" 

"She supports me. She merely wants me to move on."

"Anyone else?"

Doctor shook his head. 

"Specter? Lappland? Anyone from the Silverash family?" 

Again, he shook his head.

"What gives you the confidence that I will understand and support your stance in the matter?"

"I trust that you do understand where I am coming from. Let me be transparent here. I only have hunches and guesses about your past, but I am sure that you take pride in it, in spite of the prickling feeling in your heart. Why else would your token be your family symbol?"

Texas instinctively flinched, with her hand heading towards the Texas scutcheon, "you don't know a thing about my past."

"That is true, and I have no right to snoop around. Still, it remains a memento of such a dreadful past. You bore it everyday." He waved at Lancet-2 for another, "Why, if I may ask?"

Texas's questioning, yet puzzled, glare gradually resided. Her fingers curled around her glass before she took one huge swig down. 

That revolting taste in her mouth, that burning sensation in her throat, that uneasy queasy feeling settling in, it hit her right on the spot. She shut her eyes tight to brace herself.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't share the details of my past with you." She forced the words out.

"It's alright. I won't press on." He slouched forward with his elbows by the railing now and head hung lower. 

"... You are right." She muttered, "I do honour my fallen brethren and the forgotten family."

She waved at the approaching Lancet-2 for another.

"My past is none of your business, I will confess. However, I never expect anyone to care this much about it."

"I'm the Doctor." He blurted out, "Everyone is my top priority. It's only natural that I look out for you too."

She blushed a pinkish red and he failed to differentiate whether it was due to the liquor or the message.

"I won't ask about your past. For that, I will leave it to your discretion." He straightened his posture, "My apologies for the venting session. Unfitting for my character and festival."

She shot a short breath, "It's fine. It was something."

"My turn to ask: what shall you do after everything?"

She scratched the back of her head.

"No clue. I'm happy where I am right now. I never gave that question much thought since I'm happy right now."

"That's nice to hear that you're enjoying yourself here." 

Her head fell into a rote, as she kept bobbing her head up and down in agreement, "I think I can take inspiration from you and do my own soul-searching, or even…"

She tapped on her family sigil.

"... Rebuild the Texas family, should it be necessary."

He snickered to it, "You already have a family with Penguin Logistics." 

Her approving smile was wide, "That by itself is true. However, as what you stated, it will do no justice to my fallen brethren." 

Lancet-2 returned with their drinks.

"Thank you." Doctor raised his glass yet again, "For our past, present and future?"

She clinked her glass with him, "For our future." 

They gulped down their drinks in a barbaric fashion; they teared up as that golden orange drink ravaged their throats and relieved themselves with a few coughs and one big sigh.

"A question for you, Texas. An innocent one."

"I'm all ears." Her ears flicked. 

"What was your childhood dream?"

"Such a decent question," she bubbly grinned, "Apparently I was the heiress of my family, so I dared not to derail myself to other aspirations."

"I walked into that question, didn't I?" 

"You have. Although, I would like to explore and go sightseeing one day." Her sentence got choppy but not slurred. Her head felt light yet heavy, "What about you, Doctor?"

He let out a gaudy laugh, "I wish I could remember." 

"Ah," she laughed along, "my apologies." 

"Apology accepted," his infectious smile had Texas smiling too, "For the future? I would like to be a musician or even a university professor."

"A man of your talents, instead of pursuing politics or remaining as a tactical commander?"

"Of course. I would like to forget all the bloodshed and tone my life down to a more peaceful one. I've seen too much in one life, or technically a second life, and these bones weren't as nimble as they were."

"That, I can understand." She checked her watch, "It's 8.30pm. The performances should be starting soon. Shall we proceed?"

"By all means."

Texas's legs gave way but Doctor, with his senses still as keen thanks to his profound awareness, caught her.

There, in his arms, was a tittering yet astonished Texas. Never had he laid his hands on a woman, and never had he caught one falling.

As if the festival was blanketed or dampened, the noise outside their zone softened. All what Doctor heard was his heart thumping. 

That soft faint tangerine ray of light peeking out from the festival to them had her lips glistened and her eyes glittered. 

Her luscious hair, elegant and velvety, was let down onto his bare hands. It was soft. It was lovely. He wanted to run his fingers through.

Her eyes, those drowsy eyes, those dreamy eyes. It was locked onto his and he was getting lost in it the longer he was enticed. 

Her lips. Her pursed lips. Those bare soft lips. 

Was it the perfume that had him off guard?

What was that feeling in his stomach? 

Why was his heart beating louder? 

It must be the adrenaline kicking in to save her from falling. 

It must be the alcohol getting to him.

He went with that. 

"Doctor…" 

Her voice, hushed and lulling him closer to her, like music to his ears, called out.

"Texas?" 

"You can let go of me now." 

"Oh. Right. My bad. I'm sorry."

He helped her back on her feet. 

They both were blushing.

"So…. The performances."

"Yea. The performances."

"Yea. Let's go."

"Yep."

Chapter Text

"More!"

With a hearty sigh thanks to her plump tummy, she howled for even more bowls of Aglio Olio. Much to the generous patronage from her, the chefs rustled through their pots to cook up another bowl. Despite the mountain of cleaned plates and bowls that sprouted around the gluttonous wolf, they knew better than to stop. 

The pots went clamouring and banging to life with the chefs dancing to keep up with the demand. The fire was stoked, the smoke puffed up with vigour, the heat was turning up.

The cash kept rolling in for them. The pasta kept rolling in for her. 

Eyes were glued to her carefree spirit, either out of peculiar curiousity or the uneasiness they felt being near her. Was it her brazenly twisted demeanour from that unkempt fluffy mess of hair? Was it her unbuttoned crow-black slacks of hers, parading with tears and creases? Was it her snow pale skin, as beautiful and deserted as snow? One great look and anyone would distance themselves away. 

Beyond that, it was another conversation starter for anyone. The chitter-chatter noise kept running through the festival. Not to be rude, let alone hypocritical, for everyone has a story to tell and an image to keep up. It was another operator for everyone to admire, fear, or both.

Regardless, she slurped another string of carbonara, fresh and steaming. 

"Ahh. Damn, this is really good pasta. Reminds me of home. How did they balance the flavours so finely? I must know. I really must know."

She stood up with her tail wagging to pay her dues but halted.

"Where are my manners?"

She coiled a few noodles around her work and  invited her grumpy buddy for a bite.

"You must be hungry. Here you go."

Bison declined, "I'm fine. I'm not hungry."

His stomach growled.

Lappland's fangs glistened with glee. 

Bison's face soured up.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" 

No reply returned. Only a bitterly embarrassed face.

"Eat." 

Her fork inched forward. 

He did not budge. 

"Eat." 

The faint smell of that aromatic herbal saucy wafted closer. 

He still did not budge. 

"You're a growing boy."

She inched even closer, leaning on the table top to stretch her arm across the table.

Bison's sour face was still plastered on him.

"Eat." 

The fork was an inch away from his face. 

The warm steam had Bison bothered.

The smell.

It had his stomach growling louder. 

Lappland callously tilted her head and waited. She could play all night if she felt like it. She knew she could. 

All she needed to do was wait for him to take the bait. She knew there was no need for a provoking remark. 

Bison's eyes diverted away from the temptation before him. He clung onto his pride to not accept pity. 

His eyes fluttered back to it. 

His mouth loosened its control and opened ever so slightly. 

"It will get cold, young man." Lappland, with each word trailing behind after the other, gave him the final push. 

He submitted.

He bit down on the fork. 

She yanked it out hard right after and perversely inspected it.

"Clean. Not a single droplet of sauce. Aren't you an honest boy?"

He wiped off his mouth and shrugged off the remark. 

"Would you like another one?"

"No thank you."

"You sure? The chefs are already cooking up another batch." Her devious smile had him shrink, "I don't mind treating you for the night." 

"It's fine. I can buy my own meal." 

Lappland giggled, "Suit yourself."

Much to her nature, she wolfed down, tossing care to the wind.

"Never have I felt so alive."

Her companion felt the exact opposite.

"Why am I stuck here babysitting you?"

"I caught you on your toilet break. I'm sure you were free for the night so voila, here you are." 

"I have to return to my post. I have a job to do."

"I'm sure you were bored anyway with it. It's more fun with me."

"I beg to differ. By a lot." 

"C'mon, Bison. Don't tell me we're not buddies."

He scoffed, "Since when are we buddies?"

"Since earlier during the afternoon shift." She gulped down her beer and burped, "Texas's buddies are my buddies, so that sums up everything for me."

"First and foremost, since when are you her buddy? She always distances herself away from you, let alone talk to you." 

"No worries about it, that is how she likes to play with me. Always having her defences set up high, always reverting her pathways to run away from me, always coating herself with that ice cold expression, as if she knew exactly how to warm me up." 

Bison rubbed her eyes and shuddered, "How did Texas deal with you before I came around?"

"That is how I like Texas," she spots a toothy smile, "Enthralls me into such an exciting chase, like old times back when we were mere pups."

"Old times?"

"Yep. Has she not told you of her past, or even explained how we have become acquainted?"

"... No. She always beat around the bush about it, so I respected her space."

"How respectful of you. It's a wonder why you haven't yourself a lady." 

"Don't remind me," Bison grimaced. 

"Would you like to date Texas?" 

"Of course not. She's my superior and my friend."

"Anyone catch your fancy?"

"N-No…"

"You stuttered." She leaned on the tabletop towards him, "Cough it up. I can help you chase her."

"No thank you." 

He thought to himself, 'I think our definition of 'chase' differs too much.'

"Who was your partner at the Hub? If I'm not mistaken, was it… Croissant?"

"What about her?" 

"You have a thing with her?" 

"Of course not!"

"Ooo, you're blushing now." 

"I'm not."

"Bison and Croissant, sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-"

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, please." 

Lappland roared with laughter and banged on the table. The table shuddered by the slam of her fists and the mountain of bowls jittered.

"No offence meant." She calmed herself down. "Back to the topic at hand." 

Another bowl from an esteemed chef was delivered. Another wad of LMD and a joyous thanks was returned. 

She sucked in a long stretch.

"I figured as much about her. That is my Texas now." Her smile relaxed to a much more natural one, with her eyes endearing the memories flashing before her, "She wasn't like this, ya know? We were best friends. Sisters even. She was like me, ya know."

Bison shrugged the comment and squared his eyebrows, "I can't imagine you being as responsible and humane as her. Not one bit."

"I meant vice versa." 

"Texas? Being as insane as you?"

She nodded. "I swear on it. I'm not joking." 

"There's no way."

"Pardon me for the ludicrous comment, but I merely speak the truth here," Lappland slouched, with her head resting on her arm, "What will it take to prove it?"

"I wouldn't know, but I find it hard to imagine her like you. You two are polar opposites." 

"Exactly the point right there," She raised her fork and pointed at him, "She reached a fork in her life and ended up like how she is now. Much different from me. Much, much weaker. I'm disappointed."

He squinted his eyes momentarily, "Weaker?"

"I mean, I am sure you ogled all over your team leader during our operations or training sessions. You must have seen her fighting style." 

Bison reminisced on those times where he studied Texas session by session alongside his regular Defender training. Lappland had her points. Texas's combat style and prowess left the impression on him.

Under normal standard operating procedures implemented by Rhodes Island, there were limitations and 'rules' one had been addressed to. He had read into it. For him, the gist was to stay put and defend.

For Texas, however, something felt off. It was not some maverick hack-n-slash style like Lapplands, but it was along those lines. Something more like a rising crescendo. Low-profiled, subtle and in the background, up until she was ready to kill. Her speed, coupled with her tactical understanding and precision, had anyone on their knees. He had seen her slash through opponents without hesitation. He had seen her opponents pray for mercy after her barrage of swords. He had seen Texas pin them down through their weaknesses. 

He remembered how it sent shivers down his spine. Her composed posture. Her downcast glance. Her relaxed stance. As if it was another day for her.

Yet, he knew she was a lot more different when she was fighting. 

"Of course. She forsake everything to become who she is now. Instead of becoming more powerful, she became more civilised; more docile. I wished that she was her old self when I came on board to Rhodes and met her again." She straightened her posture and trailed her eyes along the swirly pasta before her, "What good times we had together."

Had it not for her persistence, Bison would have disregarded her comments entirely and assumed it was another one of her tasteless conversations. However, it was different this time. She had continued to ramble on and on about that animalistic terror Texas posed to no avail. As if stuck in a loop lasting for eons, without fail, Lappland harped on and on. That maddening obsession over her and yet being able to covertly hide it from plain sight.

Only now did he pay attention to it. Only now did he entertain the thought.

Did her words hold merit?

"Was Texas really like you?" 

"Of course she was." She coiled another string of pasta and was about to bite down.

"What was she like back then?"

She froze up. Her gaze was sent back to him.

Her ears perked up, "Have I finally caught your attention?" 

Bison was motionless. He did not budge, but this time, his eyes shot straight at her. 

A wicked smile greeted him.

"Tell me what you want to hear then." 

"I want to know what you meant by you two being close in the past." 

"Why is that so?" 

"You keep going on about how she was like you, and you don't seem like you're lying." Bison locked his eyes onto hers, "I want to know." 

Lappland, despite her wicked smile, shot him back with eyes void of any life. Her eyes, deathly as if they have been seared with haunting visions, watched him bracing himself for whatever was to come. She had him reeled in. 

Her smile began to fade. 

Slowly, slowly, her smile began to soften. 

"How was she like?" Her voice, reduced to a mere murmur, replied, "She wasn't like this at all." 

Bison drew in closer. 

"Her family..." Her faint voice called out to him.

Her smile had vanished completely and all was left was an expression that Bison never expected to see from her. 

A normal, neutral expression. An expression not yearning for bloodshed or preying, and he was too familiar of it. He was all too familiar to those crazed operations he was drafted in with her.

As if she was recalling something. 

As if the past started to replay before her.

She blinked. 

Once again back to her normal rambo lifestyle, her eyes were charged up with that familiar crazed determination, signature to her identity. She let out her tongue and pulled down her eyelid.

"As if I will tell you." 

Bison thumped hard from his shoulders to the table, "I'm a fool for believing you."

"I'm not lying to you though."

Bison faced up again, "What do you mean?" 

"Even if the opportunity came, I wouldn't tell you. You won't hear it from me."

Bison grunted, "Why the secrecy?" 

"Merely because I enjoy seeing those being reeled into hearing it, to crush their feelings in the end."

"Aren't you sadistic."

"If you want, ask Texas herself. I find it rude to delve into someone's past from someone else, especially since it's me." She snickered.

"I hate to admit that you have a point." Funny enough, Bison felt like he signed a deal with the devil herself. 

Lappland let out a cheeky smile. "Would you like some Aglio?"

"No thank you."

"Don't be a wet blanket. I love this back in Siracusa." 

"You were from Siracusa?"

"Yep. My birthplace. Nice place. You should go there sometime. I will be your personal tour guide."

"I'll pass." He scratched his chin, "Were you from a family in Siracusa?"

She put her finger on her smiling lips, "That is confidential."

As she was about to take another bite, she froze. 

"Speak of the Devil and she shall appear." 

She pointed out to the exit of the eatery, towards a couple walking out of the rest area. 

The couple was Texas and Doctor. 

Both flushed.

Both flustered.

Both fumbling. 

The sight was enough for Lappland to get riled up. 

"Pack it up, Bison." She bounced off her seat with that unwavering spirit of hers, "We are on the prowl tonight." 

She slammed another stack of LMD on the table and lifted Bison effortlessly.

"Do I have a say in this?" Bison sighed and thought to himself, 'What is with my luck and falling into these hijinks?'

They both blended into the crowd with their sights locked on them. Through the crowds and around the corners, they kept a low profile. 

Unfortunately for them, Texas and Doctor already knew they were on their tail. Had it not been for the mountain of bowls by her table, or her voice being so loud, they had better chances of keeping a low profile. Even so, Texas had an in-built Lappland detector. Unfortunately for her, it was trained after the needless encounters.

Regardless, Texas feigned ignorance. 

She was wondering why Bison was tagging along though.

"Doctor, let's hurry to the performances."

"Give me one second." He stopped by a stall and bought a small soft native wolf plushie. Its navy blue fur was soft and its beady eyes melted anyone's heart.

"Doctor, is it necessary to buy me one?"  

"Why yes. As your boss, I have the right to treat and pamper his colleagues." He handed her the wolf, to which she rejected on the spot without hesitation.

"You already gifted me a Shiba Inu plushie."

"It can't hurt to have another one." 

"Still, I refuse to accept." 

"It's adorable though."

"No."

"Fine."

Doctor pocketed the wolf as they hurried along to the performance area. 

"Did you see that?" Lappland peeked around the corner and witnessed the scene, "Did you, Bison?" 

"Yea. It's just Doctor being friendly." 

"Friendly? The Doctor was making a move on her. He definitely has a crush on Texas." Her fingers were clawing the wall giving her cover. 

"It's the Doctor. He treats everyone like his own siblings. It's not like he has a thing for her." 

"That means if Texas accepts a gift from me, I will have the upper hand." 

"Are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, I got caught up in the moment. What did you say?" 

Bison slumped, "Nevermind. Can we go to the performances?"

"Your whining won't help me in my conquest in capturing Texas's heart."

"What conquest? What about her heart? Why are you obsessed with her and who she hangs out with?"

"It's because Texas is mine and mine alone."

Bison felt his hair stand, "What the… What about the Doctor?"

"Texas is primarily mine, but I am willing to share from time to time." She bit her lower lip. 

"Uh-huh. Say, I would like to hang around and all, but I want to view the performances now. See you whenever." Bison began to walk away from Lappland and tried to be absorbed into the shuffling crowd but his hoodie was yanked.

"Where are you going now?" 

"The performances. I want to go now."

"I don't think so." 

Lappland pulled him to the wall and slammed her left hand on it. She leaned in. She wanted to be all he could see. She had him cornered. She had him where she wanted him to be. It had eyes on them but not much of a scene was drawn out. It had Bison feeling caved in. He knew that escape was not an option right now. How else could he run away? 

He wished that Mostima, Croissant, or anyone, would pick him up.

"Do you know why you are here, between me and the wall?"

"No." 

"I don't want my friend to be alone, and I expect my friend as much to not leave me alone." 

"Since when are we friends?" 

Lappland's face drew closer. Her stern glare pierced his soul. 

"Then what are we?" 

His eyes darted.

"We're…" 

His tongue got tied up. 

"We're…"

He wanted to cough up an answer but he was being pressed down right now. 

"Go on."

His mind was silenced by the fear of what Lappland was capable of.

Even in a festival, it was not enough of an incentive for her to lay low and stay obedient. To her, she was still as much of a wild card as she would be on the battlefield. He asked himself, in an earnest manner, why he had to be him. Lappland bit down her tongue and played nice with every other operator. Given the chance, she would initiate a decent conversation without explicit or abstract ideas or concepts. Given the chance, she would play around with the younger operators and teasingly poke the older operators. Given the chance, she even displayed manners and courtesy to any other member from Penguin Logistics. Hell, it was the other day that she gave a vinyl record to Emperor, albeit with a bemusing sarcastic remark. Never had she bared her fangs to anyone even if they were being pushy or blunt with her. She wore that tamed mask without a single crack on it.

If she wanted to snap at him, she felt no hesitation to hold back. 

This side of her surfaced whenever she was with Texas. Why did it have to be him now? 

This side of her? Meant for Texas?

Why show it to him then? 

He realised why. 

"Texas's buddies are my buddies."

Those words echoed in his head. 

However, Exusiai, Mostima, or anyone else from the team entertained her.

Only he did.

Anyone else would have entertained her conversations for the sake of it.

Only he got invested in it.

In other words, he made a pact with the Devil.

He wondered why he delved into it.

He coughed up a bit to clear his throat. 

"Yea. We're friends." 

Lappland stayed in her position, "Are we?"

"Yep. We are." 

"Are we?"

"Yes." Bison steeled his sights, "We are."

She smirked before pulling herself away from Bison. She wrapped her arm around his neck and was full of glee, "I knew we would be friends." 

Bison let out a sigh of relief. 

He had no idea where this is going.

All he needed to do was enjoy the ride.

"Let's go to the performances, shall we? 

"Yes. Let's."

Chapter Text

"Check, one, two. Check, one, two."

The stage was set. 

"Lights on."

The spotlights flickered and beamed by the thud behind the stage.

"Alright, alright, alright!"

The members were assembled. From the drawn curtains, there stood Sora and Emperor.

"Alright, baby, we gon' be cruising with tonight's performances," Emperor raised his fin up with his chest pumped up, "Who's ready for some fun?"

The crowd roared to life. From wherever they were seated, be it their bean bags, benches or their picnic mats on the grass patches, they felt the rush through their bodies. Even those standing idly by the sides jumped to their feet.

By the front row, Exusiai bounced to life as fleeting as a candle to a wind. She plopped right back down to her bean bag with Mostima. The red-haired angel dug deeper into her lover, embracing her warmth. In return, the blue-haired angel tugged her deeper into her.

"We got a lovely show for you all tonight." Sora, with every ounce of girly cuteness in her soul, tweeted out, "So get yourselves comfortable and right at home."

By the benches at the side rows, Croissant and Bison proposed a toast for the gross income they shall be swimming in the following morning. Boy, the LMD they raked in was that gross. Their soda bottles clinked with the fuzzy Cola bubbling and gulped down for the merry night. 

Awkward enough, they clinked their bottles with a smug Lappland. 

"Boyyo, pardon me for askin', but how do I say it…"

Bison emitted a weak smile, "I'll explain in the morning. For now, let it be."

Croissant nodded, ableit with some questions in her head.

"Don't forget to take photos and videos throughout the performances, especially me. Your #1 celebrity idol..."

She raised her hand up to the sky before posing with a peace sign to her eye.

"Sora."

The crowd was hyped. The crowd was pumped. They were brimming with that youthful vigour. They shouted and roared.

All was ready for the grand finale of the festival. 

Everyone had been waiting for this. 

The Doctor, for sure, had been waiting for this. He was ready to cheer everyone on.

Texas? Not so much. The alcohol had her waning and bobbing to and fro, side and side, from time to time. 

Bubbly and light was the mood for tonight. She was not that far gone though, so she tried her best to keep it under the rug. 

"Before we get this party moving, I wanna ask where my Penguin Logistics gang be? Holla, holla."

Exusiai cheered on shamelessly, "Long Live the Penguin Empire, Boss."

Mostima shyly raised her bottle to it. Croissant and Bison raised theirs too. 

Only Texas meekly raised her hand to her height. 

"Texas! Whatcha doing over there being so quiet? I never trained my ladies to be shy." Emperor had shifted all eyes on her, much to her disagreement, "Spotlight's on you, babe. Show them the pride of the Penguin Empire." 

Even with that, she timidly fist-bumped into the air and gave a small 'woohoo'. Being the centre of attention was not her forte. Not at all.

"Texas, ladies and gentlemen. How about give her some cheer for her now?" Emperor laughed hysterically with everyone else applauding her. 

She blushed much harder now. 

"Ain't she a cutie? My team leader, right there. Ain't she looking stylish as hell with that new office wear? Now that is sexy." 

Texas was full-blown steaming red with embarrassment. Why were these comments getting to her? She blamed the whisky. That lovely whisky.

"Without further ado, let us start the show! Tonight's performances are not to be missed so don't go anywhere while we prepare for our upcoming performance." Sora chirped.

With that, the duo returned to backstage and the crowd was buzzing, barely able to hold their excitement. 

The Doctor watched Texas melting beside him.

"For what's it worth, I find it sexy."

"Doctor."

"Just being honest." 

First performance already started off with a bang. With Sora and Emperor as a duet, Vigna and Swire on guitar, Amiya on violin, Kroos on drums and Courier on the bass, everything was set to kick off the grand finale of the festival. 

"First song we will be covering is Light the Fire Up. Hope you enjoy."

Who knew the mix-and-match style of rock with classic instruments complimented themselves? That upbeat shimmering clashing of cymbals coupled with an exciting beat. That enthusiastic strumming from the guitar boosted with that resonating bass matching its jolly mood. The violin, its prominent lively trill, such a wonderful tone. The cherry on top, not to forget, was that distinct singing style between Emperor's rapping and Sora's singing melting into each other to produce an absolutely wonderful sound.

The crowd clapped along. Some were already recording them. Some had to snap a photo whenever Sora struck a pose, and there were many. Some had to admire the beauty of the musicians on stage. Even Emperor had them bumping and jumping to the beat.

"That's Emperor for you." Texas spoke, her voice trying to compete with the band.

"Never had much of a chance to chat with him, let alone get to know him. He seems fun."

Texas bobbed her head to the beat.

"You seem to be having fun, Texas."

"It's been awhile since I've had some fun. It wouldn't hurt to have some."

Doctor smiled, "Amen to that." 

"Though, I wonder. How is Kroos able to play drums with her eyes closed?"

Doctor shrugged his shoulders, "No clue. She is that talented, I guess."

"I assume so." 

"And Vigna's guitar too. "Flame", if I recall the name of it. She always yapped about learning how to rock a guitar, so I bought her that as a gift from the Heart of Surging Flame event."

"How thoughtful of you."

"Yea, but it costs about an arm and a leg too."

"Is buying gifts all you can do to win someone over, I wonder?"

"I can do a lot more, like…" He tapped on his chin, "I'll get back to you on that."

Texas was amused.

"Sora, as lively and lovely as ever. I wonder why she's close to you." 

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing offensive, of course. More so, I never got the chance to ask about it. I often see you two together, besides you and Exia." 

"That is true, I suppose." 

"What history do you two have?" 

"Nothing special."

The Doctor sighed, "As cold as ever, aren't you."

"To you? Always." She smirked. 

The Doctor's phone vibrated. A message notification popped up.

'Kal'tsit: Urgent Meeting. Your office. Now.'

"Excuse me, Texas. Kal'tsit called. I'll be back shortly after."

"Do I need to accompany you?"

"No need. You can enjoy the performances."

With Texas's nod, he dashed off to the lower levels of the faculty.

The descent down to the lower levels had snuffed out the banging atmosphere from the concert raging throughout the night. How much he wanted to stay but business was still business. Much more of the importance if she called in an emergency. For now, he knew it would be him alone with her. Amiya was busy performing. Texas was enjoying it. He did not want to interrupt that. 

As it became quieter and quieter, his thoughts sharpened, albeit still a bit fuzzy. He needed to sober up at least to a decent level where his appearance was not in shambles. At the very least presentable was her standards.

Beyond the occasional security troopers and guards roaming around, the hallways had never been so desolate before. His boots thumped throughout, each step reverberated and bounced. 

He knocked on the door before entering.

"Kal'tsit."

"Doctor." She stood by the wargames table, next to his desk and the leisure corner.

"What's the emergency? Can't it wait until after the festival?"

"Unfortunately no. I want to enjoy the party too, so shut your trap and I'll rush through the details."

"What about Amiya? Isn't it essential that she hears of the meeting minutes too?" 

"I'll leave it to your discretion."

The Doctor's eyes drooped, "Again, why not wait until after her concert performance at the very least?"

Kal'tsit glared straight at him. He raised his hands, palms open, and flinched back.

"Information is fresh, only came in approximately 1930. Lungmen. Distress signal from Lin Gray. I'm assured that you remember him from our previous encounter back in the Code of Brawl."

"The Rat King himself. I remember it well. Never would have expected him to orchestrate the entire festival under the concealment of a dirty civil war. How's his daughter?"

"That's the issue right now. Lin Yuxia has been kidnapped." She raised a classified file.

He approached the table, "You have to run that by me again."

"She got kidnapped. Likely to be the dealings of another mafia family, but we have reason to believe the mafia family in question has Reunion support."

"I can't believe it. How? Her Arts was notable, which even had Swire call in favours to track down the Yeti's squadron. Her physical prowess is nothing to look over too."

"Information's murky at best. The information we retrieved are merely from what Lin Gray's mafiaso could gather. Beyond that, we cannot pin down the technicalities and specifics, such as pinpointing the exact location of her daughter, which family is involved and their true motive."

"True motive?"

"Their pretense is that they want LMD in return for his daughter."

He shook his head, "I highly doubt that is the case, considering they are risking their necks against Lin Gray himself. Otherwise, they would have dealt with the Black Market. I suspect there is more to it."

"Exactly my point. However, beyond what we have, we are completely blind to what may unfold." 

"What's worse was due to the spectacle we left back in the Code of Brawl, they are aware of our tactics."

"That, I am not sweating over." Kal'tsit sipped on her tea before collecting her thoughts, "If I did, what is the point of appointing you Tactical Commander?"

He shrugged off the comment, "What about Wei Yan Wu, Kal'tsit?"

"Lin Gray prefers not to call in any favours from him due to how sensitive the political agenda is regarding Lungmen's slums and the Reunion infestation within. If the middle-class citizens and beyond catch wind of such an uprising by the outskirts of their cities, would that not jeopardise Yan Wu's image for not pressing down on criminal activity? Wei Yan Wu's hands are tied as it is with him campaigning for an economic boon. He can't be busy cracking down on criminal organisations." 

The Doctor recalled the transgressions Amiya and he had with him. "Any other reason beyond that?"

"Make a gander."

"Lin Gray was impressed by our command and has more faith in us tracking down his daughter instead?" 

"Correct."

"How is Lin Gray himself?"

"Tied down too. Any move on his part and he won't see his daughter again. For now, he requests to brief us further once we arrive."

"How did he transmit the message to you then?"

"He had one of his messengers run for him."

"Fair enough." He shook his head to clear this uneasy feeling within, "It comes as a shock that they dared to take on Rat King. His Sand Arts was mesmerising, as much as it was deadly."

"As long as they have his daughter captured, they have him chained up." She loaded up a node to display the overhead view of Lungmen Outskirts, "I assume you have an ace up your sleeve?" 

"Of course I do." 

"Which is?" 

"Who else knows the ground more than Penguin Logistics?"

She raised an eyebrow, "That is your master plan? We may be expecting heavy resistance, additionally entering enemy terrain blind. Do we not have any other alternatives?"

"Not that I can think of. No one else knows the grounds more than them."

"Only them?"

"No. I'll draft in a couple."

"Only a couple?" 

"Yes."

"Let me hear it."

"Warfarin and Lappland."

"Doctor."

"I will be on-site for any developments and further deployment and engagement."

"You're expecting me to give you permission to join them? Once Reunion forces catch wind of your presence, checkmate is only in a few moves. Let me reiterate: heavy enemy resistance is expected, no knowledge regarding the terrain, and you propose that you will be on-site, regardless of the lack of bodyguards or operators to minimise the risk in play."

"Kal'tsit, with all due respect, that is exactly my idea. We need a small team for deep infiltration and covert operations. The idea of sending a cavalry is out of the window. On top of that, the Penguin Logistics have the layout of the slums on the back of their hand. To me, it is perfect."

"And you're proposing them, possibly the loudest faction in Lungmen within the community?"

"Yes."

"The faction that stirred trouble and potentially have a bounty on their heads?"

"Don't we all have a bounty on our heads?"

"You're absolutely serious?"

"Yes."

Kal'tsit sipped on her tea and sighed, "Out of all the ludicrously nonsensical ideas you shared, this is ranked quite high."

The Doctor stood there, attentive to her every move.

"We could have invested in another team altogether. A team more compact and trained for covert tasks. Projekt Red, Waai Fu, anyone to scout out the area and give a broader view." 

"I believe you forget that P.L has connections and bases scattered throughout."

"I can't ignore that, but I also can't ignore your ridiculous mental gymnastics."

Her teacup clicked on her saucer.

"You got a timeline?"

"Establish base in one of P.L's many hideouts, establish connections with Lin Gray, minimise any Reunion threat should we be encountered and investigate the whereabouts of Lin Yuxia."

"Contingency plans."

"Should our presence be known or suspected to be compromised, immediate evacuation. Should we sustain casualties, medical coverage by Warfarin will be issued."

"I can't risk deploying two high-value personnel down there, Doctor. Replacement."

"Silence." 

"Fine." Her eyes met his, "Risk assessment?"

"Another day in the office."

"Risk assessment."

"High."

"And I should permit this because…?"

"Because it is another day in the office."

Kal'tsit glared straight at him. She breathed in. She kept it in. She breathed out.

"Reconnaissance. Three days max. Once done, extract yourselves out and rendezvous back here."

He nodded in agreement.

"Any engagements in combat are heavily discouraged. Your top priority is to keep a low profile."

"Understood." 

"Return here tomorrow at 0700 sharp. Amiya and Texas to be with you."

"Right."

"I can't believe I'm allowing you to go gung-ho with them."

"We will not let you down. I will supervise them."

"That is my main concern." She shook her head before peering out of the glossed window. "Do not. Disappoint. Me."

He nodded once before excusing himself out of the room.

'Another day in the office then', he thought. 

He entered the lift and rode it back up to the helipad upstairs. 

The life of the festival shifted back to the performances and the vibrations from the ground confirmed it. Unfortunately for him, he missed Amiya's solo violin performance based on the schedule (which he hoped to record). What was playing, however, was the finale of the performance. 

The confessions. 

"You know how it goes, baby," Emperor called out, "Whoever comes up here and confesses will get a consolation prize."

Sora hoisted up a lovely goodie bag, "For basking in the spotlight, a small bit of LMD, some snacks and an autograph polaroid of me are all yours. Don't be shy and come on up."

Had it not been for Lappland failing to understand what is shame or dignity, she fireman-carried Bison up on stage and took her turn. It was as if it was sketched out of a comedic skit. Throughout the entire time, Bison tried to struggle and loosen her grip to slip out, but to no avail. He was both terrified and amazed by the brute strength of the woman. At some point of his journey to the stage, he flopped dead on her shoulders, accepting what was coming to him. Many viewers revelled in their amusement with the spectacle as they anticipated for her reveal. 

Lappland gently lowered Bison's corpse before testing the mic.

"Alright, my confession goes out to Texas. I love you, Texas!"

Everyone froze up on the spot.

"Umm… Lappland," Sora whispered, "Everyone knows that. That doesn't count as a confession."

"I figured as much. I merely wish to profess my love in the most romantic way possible."

Texas buried her head in her palm and wondered what atrocities or cardinal sin she committed in the past life to deserve such a fate. 

"I will take my leave now. It was fun while it lasted." 

With that, Lappland hopped off the stage not by the stairs but by the front.

Back from the grave, Bison hoisted himself up and stood where he laid. With all eyes on him and the mic protruding proudly before him, he hesitated.

"Since I'm already here, I guess it's my turn?" 

Lappland gave a thumbs up back at her seat, much to his bitterness and Croissant's embarrassment. 

"My confession for tonight?" 

He felt goosebumps.

"I… I kinda…"

He readjusted his hoodie. 

"What I'm trying to say is…"

His eyes trailed off to the starry sky.

"I have a crush."

A sounding cheer and a resounding 'aww' rose from the audience. 

"Who is it?" Exusiai squawked from the front row.

"I'm not going to say it."

"Is it Orchid?"

"No!"

"Gitano." 

"None of the older ladies." 

"Croissant?"

His eyes widened and recoiled by her name, "Of course not."

"WHY YOU FLINCH? IT'S CROISSANT, ISN'T IT." 

Mostima clamped Exusiai tight, "My apologies for that, Bison. She meant no harm. I will punish her later." 

Exusiai yapped and squealed as much as she was muffled and piped down by Mostima.

At that point, Bison was fazed out already. 

Croissant was taken aback with the scene unfolded.

Lappland nudged her teasingly, "Lucky you."

"Boyyo must had a too many drinks, I reckon."

"For that, we congratulate Bison for confessing his love for whoever is the lucky lady in mind."

Sora handed him the goodie bag before escorting him down the stage. Poor lad, his legs failed to move under his control. He only felt jelly waist down.

"Yo, Texas," Emperor beckoned, "You've been too uptight. Why not come up on stage?"

She shook her head and hand. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, folks, I need you all to give an ovation for her. She's a bit shy and she needs some love to get moving. How about we cheer her on?"

The masses were stirred, high off the jolly mood. Her name was chanted in a gradual rhythm. Softly, but surely, her name echoed. Her reddened face with her timid and soft rejections had them wanting to tease her more and more.

She caved in to the pressure and shuffled her feet to the stage. Her grand entrance was welcomed with a shower of cheers and hoorahs. 

Emperor handed her the mic.

She never thought she had to entertain a large crowd, let alone needing to be shameless before them. 

Her hands gently coiled around the mic. Her eyes fluttered back and forth from it and the dark faces before her. 

"Hi everyone." 

She did not expect such an uproar as a reply.

"Hi. I'm not too sure what to confess, so…"

"Who do you have a crush on?" Exusiai shot her question straight at her. Mostima let it slide. Her curiosity got the better of her.

"I don't have a crush on anyone."

"IS IT DOCTOR?" 

"Of course not!" Texas barked back. 

"You two looked cute toge-" 

Mostima tugged on the backside of her hoodie. 

"I mean, I see." 

Texas shrugged her shoulders, unable to craft up a confession. "I apologise. I have nothing else to say here."

"With that, we would like to thank Texas for being such a sport." Sora returned and handed her another goodie bag.

"Yo, Doctor, come on up." The Emperor beckoned out yet again, "We all want to hear your confessions too."

The spotlight was on him. All eyes were on him. Unlike the predecessor, he was into it. He marched himself right up those stairs and accepted the mic. 

"Evening, my dear operators. I hope you all enjoyed your night?" 

A unified 'yes' yelled back at him.

"Great, great. I'm glad to hear that. Truth be told though? I don't know what exactly to confess so I would like to answer some personal questions you have been dying to know."

In grand fashion, Exusiai was the first to fire her shot. 

And boy, did it land.

"DO YOU LIKE TEXAS?"

Texas froze by the middle of the stairs.

He knew she was listening. By the corner of his eyes, he saw her ears perked up. Whether it was flickering or twitching, it was hard to see with the lights on him.

He was playing with fire right now.

His gaze was casted back to the waning angel.

"Yes, as a colleague. She is wonderful to work with."

The answer, vague enough, had them in suspense.

"As a friend?"

She pressed on, as he expected. 

His eyes returned to Texas.

"Yes. As a friend."

Anyone could hardly pipe down their excitement.

"Best friend?"

He cracked a smile.

"If she sees me that way, then yes, as a good friend."

"WHAT ABOUT AS A LOVER?"

Mostima yanked her down back to the bean bag and plugged her mouth with her hands. It was too late. The damage had been done. The intrigued audience before him inched closer, waiting for his reply. Some heard squeals and shrieks ripping through the noise of the debating audience. 

Sora included. Only one thought ran through her head.

'Girls, I'm going to win my bet tonight. Prepare your LMD. #TeamTexas'

With the crowd distracted, Doctor flicked back his sights on where Texas was. Curiously enough, she vanished without a trace.

He had a hunch on where she was.

His robes, as if a strong gush rushed through, were raised briefly. His senses went numb. The crowd before him was muted. The wooden floor below him melted. The lights were shut off. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. He felt nothing. 

He only saw what he wanted to see.

He felt nothing. As if he was merely a disembodied spectre, only a conscious mind, he felt nothing.

He whispered under his breath to not alert anyone of his doings.

"Eyes of Priestess."

The stunning light overcame the darkness. It pierced through his irises and burnt his eyes. Even so, he etched deeper into it. He drew himself deeper. 

Figures. Moving figures. Silhouettes. A silhouette of a single Lupo operator. A silhouette between dim-lit walls. The silhouette got clearer and the resolution had a face. 

Texas.

He foresaw Texas backstage. She was doing something to the analog soundboard. 

Her plan clicked in his mind.

He snapped himself back to the world before him.

He returned to the audience that inched ever so closer to him. Thankfully, they had not the second to comprehend what he had done. 

He tapped on the microphone. No feedback was heard. 

He spoke into the mic and had Sora test it out too. None of the mics worked. With that, he shook both Sora's hands and Emperor's fins before taking his exit offstage.

With that, he headed to the back.

There stood Texas. 

"Killing the mics wasn't necessary, you know. I could simply say no." 

Texas had her back face him, "Any answer you gave would not suffice. By killing the mics, we leave it up to speculation."

"What's wrong with saying no?"

"It's better to not give an answer than try to cover up with a 'no'."

"And if I truly believed in 'no'?"

"They wouldn't buy it."

Doctor handed her that. It was better that way.

With that, he knew the curtains for the festival shall be drawn. That starry night and that glistening sea shall be another memory to his new recollection. 

However, he wished to create one more memory for the night.

"Texas, shall I accompany you back to your dorm?"

"For?"

"I would like a casual chat with you before we call it a night." 

She looked back before facing forward.

"If you wish."

Chapter Text

12 February, 20XY.

Columbia.

XY Years ago.

"With that, my branch retrieved the weapon cache without sustaining any casualties from our ambush."

The boss bestowed her a satisfying nod and complimented her with his smoky and husky voice, "You receive my appraisal. You have met our expectations as per usual, captain."

The Captain, knelt before the Don, on the red carpet, gave an assuring nod.

"Thank you. I conclude my report." She stood up and had her back face him, "Forgive me for my hasty manner, but I request to be excused. I have business to attend to."

The elder behind watched the rose of the family hurried off.

"How have you been doing, my dear daughter?"

She halted, "I have been doing fine."

"Wonderful news. My prayers have been answered."

"I see."

"How have you been so far, with your crew and the associates?"

"Manageable. Still loyal."

"I meant how are your relationships with the three of them?"

"I have no time to spend with them. Business is business. Any moment spared for idle chatter is a moment wasted."

"However, your crewmates themselves reported that you have been warming up to them." The Don stroked his chin.

The Captain slightly pivoted her head, "By whom, if I may ask?"

"Our Consigliere fancied a conversation with them. Forgive them, for I requested it. I was curious about the progress."

"I see." Her face remained composed, if not hinted one slight shade of irritation, "Excuse me."

She approached the doors to head out.

Those grand entry doors, its smooth mahogany hardwood texture, she had entered countless times. The crimson red wool carpet she knelt down many times, fluffy and furry to the touch. Her feet tickled as they brushed through every strand. How many times had she faced the boss within that faint scent of lavender in the office? How many times had she reported to him personally? How many times had she been in that room?

She wondered if she was given such a privilege to be accustomed to it.

She wondered where the underboss had run off to. The second in command was either lollygagging or drinking his days away. Without him around, all responsibilities shifted to her shoulders.

What she would do to nail some senses into him.

Beyond that? It was another day in the mafia for her.

She turned the doorkn-

"May I ask if you wish to spend some time with your mother and I?"

Her face shifted to a skeptical tone and faced him, "Why is that so?"

Her father, with his crow's feet by his eyes, let out a warm yet weak smile.

"It has been awhile since we have come together as a family. We wish to spend some quality time with you before your promotion and eventual succession to becoming the Patriarch of the Texas family, Captain."

She flinched and lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I do not have a need for it. We have a lot of backlog to dig through and it is best that I handle it as soon as possible."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"I am certain you have time to spare in between your duties."

"Unfortunately, I do not." Her voice firmed up.

"I see. I can only hope you have time to spare soon enough."

"My apologies." She opened the door and stood by the doorframe, "Excuse me, Father."

She bowed and scurried out, vanishing into those luscious halls that many would be envious.

"My child," he muttered under his breath, "How your chains had shackled you down."

With that, he drew some incense sticks and headed to his balcony patio.

The Texas crime family. A venerable name that upheld a prestige within the syndicate, albeit being a relatively new branch. Stemming away from the Siracusa main family, the Columbian family had been founded as a venture to foreign territories. Even so, their work did not lighten. Their responsibilities were doubled down on them. Racketeering, fencing, smuggling, weapon trafficking, murder, the flavours of crime itself. Fortunately, all their errands paid off without a cinch. Their captain, a young'un deceiving many with her experience, was credited for much of it.

The Captain, the youthful heir to the Texas family, was educated. She was trained. She was heartless. She was ready to kill at any time. She never knew fear and dismissed compassion as quick.

The Godfather was the exact opposite. Kind, gentle, understanding, he never raised his voice to any subordinates nor punished those who committed honest and small mistakes. It was anyone's guess as to how they were blood-related.

She wondered how they were family. It was merely a term to her.

Parched and exhausted, Captain sat by the side of the walkway elevated from the field. The meadow, the calming green, tended to by the esteemed caretaker, had been a hotspot for her to get a breather. Cracking open a cold drink, she gulped down.

Her eyes trailed along the horizon that stretched beyond the meadow. Vast was an understatement. She had never reached the end of it, nor will she ever bother to. To her, it was nothing more than still life. A moment of respite always was granted to her and it had her catching a second wind from its chilled breeze.

Those days, her memories, fleeted from her memory. She remembered her with her mother and father as she grazed through the long blades of grass. She remembered that smile, that motherly smile from her. She remembered her hand, soft and gentle yet firmly embracing hers.

How long had it been since?

She missed her.

Her fingers crushed the aluminium can slightly. Ever so slightly.

She cracked open a box of Pocky.

She was not much of a fan of Pocky but it did hit the spot.

So addicting.

From the meadows was a silhouette of a Lupo like her. Her pale skin, her snow white disorderly hair, her protruding Originium shards on her legs. She waved at her with a smile. An innocent smile, greeting a friend.

How persistent of her, she thought to herself. A sight for sore eyes.

She had no reason to turn the cold shoulder.

The Captain puffed out a sigh before returning the wave with a weaker smile.

"Yo!" The white silhouette beckoned, "Mdm Captain, want to spar to pass the time?"

The Captain stood up and brushed off any crumbs before plodding herself onto the fields.

"I would love to."

She strolled across the trimmed patches of grass.

"How long has it been since the beginning of your inclusion programme?"

"It’s been a few months,” she cracked a smile, "It has been fun with you ever since."

The Captain nodded, "Ditto."

“I remembered our sparring sessions. Never had I have to deal with such an annoying thorn on my side.”

“Same back at you.” The Captain gently returned a smile back. “Never had I dealt with a brute this rigorous and mindless before.”

“I’m complimented,” Her friendly adversary chuckled. "However, my days are numbered. After a few weeks, I will fly back to Siracusa."

"Your inclusion programme is coming to an end? A shame. Life will be stale without."

"Right back at you. Never had this much fun trying to rip someone's throat."

"I concur. Some day, I hope I see you in Siracusa again. I would love to visit your family too."

Her partner smiled back as they began to trudge deeper into the fields, "Nah, my family is a two-bit no good gang. It won't suit a city girl like you."

"I beg to differ. I prefer to escape this concrete jungle altogether.

"Suit yourself." She kowtowed, "I will prepare the red carpet for you."

The fresh air had them drunk off the zestful aroma. Such a botanic scent in the air.

They continued to plod through the patches, entertaining themselves with idle chatter and gossip. Much to the Captain, gossip was not her forte but never had anyone yap on and on about the political matters of her compadre. It had her interest peaked.

She never took her for someone that invested in reading up the internal workings of the syndicate. Judging by her blunt and carefree demeanour, politics was anything but her guesses.

In fact, she had this unsettling feeling that she did not know much about the person she was talking to.

Months had passed by. Time flew past her and seeped through her grasps. Between the momentary breaks and the brief spar sessions they had hosted, all she was embroiled in was the agenda and affairs of the family. She knew her birthday, the reason she was accepted into the Texas family momentarily, what interests her, but never knew about the minute details of her life.

She looked at her and wondered what was there to know about.

Her companion stared back, wondering why she was being stared at. A wryly smile cracked up from her, “Do I have something on my face?”

“Nothing. I was merely studying you.”

“Huh.” Her expression scrunched up, puzzled by it, “Aren’t you a weird one.”

"Says you. By the way, I had been wondering. Why is your codename 'Lappland'?"

"It's a trade secret within my family." Lappland planted a finger on her lips, "Besides, what codename is 'Texas'? How boring."

"I couldn't think of another. Beyond that, it is to uphold the honour of the Texas family."

"Right. I totally forgot about how you are about to succeed the position of underboss and, I assume, the Don within a matter of months." She bowed to pay respects to the endowed lady and snickered with a sarcastic haughty tone, "I apologise for my lack of manners."

"Forgiven." Her smile flashed up, amused by this goofy character.

They halted at their designated spot. Two arms distance apart.

"Now, shall we?" Texas rested her left hand on the hilt.

"Ah yes. I've been waiting the entire day for a good clean brawl." Lappland rested hers on both hilts.

She had no control on the smug smile that flashed by the side of her mouth. "A clean brawl? With you?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Who are you, and what have you done to the feral scoundrel I know of?"

"Ho ho ho, I love me some trash talk before a fight." Lappland had her hands on her hip, "Don’t get me too riled up. I don't want to tear that pretty face of yours."

"Be my guest. If my face distracts you, then winning this duel will be much easier"

"I’ll keep my eyes on it then.” Her teeth were bare with that stark smile, “Remember now, we're 15-12, with me in the lead."

"Where did you learn to count? It was 14-13."

"Nah, I'm sure it was the former. Besides, we both know who is the stronger one."

"Me."

Lappland roared out in laughter, "I'll wipe off that smug look off your face."

Texas riposted the comment with a vying glare, "Try me."

"Gladly."

Lappland cupped both hands on the hilts of both her swords, itching to draw it out.

Much to her bewilderment, Texas’s left hand remained rested on the hilt, with her right hand free.

"C'mon, Captain Texas, aren't you getting ahead of yourself sparring me with only a single sword?"

“One is all I need.”

“Cocky, are we now? Alright then. I’ll play.”

Lappland unsheathed one of her longswords and its intricate design had Texas wary.

"That is new. Where did you get that from?"

"Oh this?" Lappland flaunted it around, "It was a gift from my boss. I like it."

Texas hardly understood its design. As if someone slapped an oversized hollow protractor on a blade, she questioned the practicality of such bizarre add-ons.

"Eastern-inspired and one-of-a-kind. It’s my first time showing it to you. My boss had to sell an arm and leg for my birthday gift."

"What's so special about it?"

"Trade secret." She giggled under her breath, "However, I will let you in on it since we're pals, only if you promise not to leak it."

She pointed the tip of the sword towards her and, with a tense of her stance, had it blazing with an overwhelming vicious white aura.The aura, as if it was alive with a mind of its own, feverishly coiled and bustled throughout her blade. It scampered and ‘scorched’ her arm, although no burn marks or ashes splintered off her jacket. An aura that wild crackled with energy.

"It was crafted to concentrate and hone my Arts. Due to these twisted coilings around my grip and the arches around the blade, I can harness my Arts with ease. Top it up with my Orignium infection…"

She slashed the ground next to her.

A ringing, like that of a wind chime, was heard before the slash. A loud boom trailed behind afterwards.

Dirt flew over by the side.

Not a single dissipation of energy from the blade.

Texas was unsettled by the fact that the ground melted like butter and was blown off like a bomb had detonated.

"... And you now have someone who is a walking war crime. I can see the headlines pinning me to genocides." A cheeky smile erupted before that aura faded off to nothing. “Fret not though. I won’t use it on you. I have no reason to.”

"I have heard of reports of such black market dealings. Never would I imagine your family partaking in it. Where did your Patriarch siphon such resources?"

"Intimidated?"

Texas gripped on her hilt and unbuckled it from her belt. Her blade materialised in an instant, glowing yellow much to her opponent's delight, "It has been awhile since I felt so."

"Do you then believe that a mere dagger like yours will be enough?"

"A wolf's fangs are always enough."

Lappland smirked.

"You got that right." She prepped her stance. "Come at me."

“With pleasure.”

With that, they dashed towards each other.

Back to the same rhythmic dance they knew so well.

The meadows smelt wonderful. That herbal fragrance soothed any soul that spared a moment for its grace. The Sun, peeking by the looming trees across the fields, begun to say its farewell.

The butterflies swayed with the flowers they sat on, mindlessly watching the flickering and flashing of blades exchanging slashes and sweeps. The breeze brushed across them. That rich shamrock green was ever-present.

The two had done this many times.

Texas wondered how to gain the upperhand this time. That blade itself was a force to be reckoned with.

All she needed to do was dance.

Dance.

Their swords danced sharply.

Clang.

That strident sound. That familiar sound they were no stranger to.

Clang.

Their swords bashed on each other.

Clang.

The silvery light from their swords. They twinkled and shimmered with each slash.

The rustling of dead leaves under their feet. How they cracked and crumbled.

The leaves fluttered in the wind with each shuffling step from the combatants.

"Aren't you slowing down, Texas? You were always the faster one."

The leaves of the trees from the age-old forests swayed to and fro like the steps each of them take. Back and forth. Side to side. Back and forth. Side to side.

The icy glare from her met that fiery tinge within Lappland’s.

Was it her looks or her blade that can kill her?

"Tricky one, too."

Daffodils, daisies, violets, orchids, poppy. The flowers that spectated cheered on with their sweet aroma wafting in the hair. Had it not been for the salty taste of sweat or that rustic smell of blood, they would have appreciated it.

Blood.

It was a mere scratch.

A few meagre scratches.

That numb yet stinging pain did not faze them.

The fun just started.

“Not bad.”

“Right back at you, Texas.”

Their pants got heavier. Such an ugly sound to the otherwise cheery and chirpy cockatoos nearby.

Standing on that pristine field, they stood. Texas swiped off the blood from the flesh wound on her face. She waited for Lappland to catch her breath.

"All this, for a drop of blood?"

"It's progress.”

She smiled, "Tired yet, Lappland?"

"Heh, I can go all night if you want.”

"Please. I've only begun."

Their grips around their hilts tightened.

They dashe-

"Captain."

They halted to see a member from Texas's crew calling out to her. It was the youngest of the trio.

"We have an emergency message directed to the emissary."

"Shut it, pipsqueak. Can't you see we're in the middle of something."

"It is about your Patriarch. Your own Godfather."

Lappland's eyes were stricken with fear, albeit briefly. In haste, she sheathed her sword and sprinted towards the floorboards.

"What happened to him?"

"A message had been sent to you from him. The message stated that he had become gravely ill and he wished to see you right away."

Lappland's chest tightened. A thousand and one thoughts raced through her mind.

“Him? Sick? No… That… As if he will… He was built like an ox. As if he can get sick now. Who was this message from?”

“The Cupola (the Regional Commissioner)."

"I… I see." She hoisted herself up to the floorboards and faced Texas. "I have to start packing. AWe shall continue our duel another day. Promise me that, Texas."

Texas lowered her head and locked her eyes into hers.

"I promise."

Lappland ripped open a ferocious smile. She loved to hear that.

Texas knew, however, that she was worried sick.

That smile hid her heart.

That was the last smile that Lappland ever shone to her before her departure.

That was the last time she smiled back.

Chapter Text

11 November, 20XX

3 months before 12 February, 20XY

Siracusa

XX years ago

The snow was white. Bleak white. From the ashen grey heavens above, it glided down. Hypnotising, seeing them stoop to this forsaken town. Down to those dull roof tiles or those stone cold pavements by the alleyways and roads, it coated with each inch of snowfall. Their legacy for this world, a fragile miniscule drop of puddle. For however long they existed in this world, they returned to nothingness. 

Pathetic. 

The child, laid bare on the floor, her spirit broken, weakly watched this snowy wonderland piling onto her, as if it wanted to smother her.

She felt each speck of snow tapping, pattering, on her cold face. 

She barely had any strength to wipe it off.

She hardly had any strength to stand.

Those shadows that strolled by the pavement, plump and stout, laughed to their heart's content. Not a single dime of attention was left for the child in the alleyway. All was fine, she accepted that idea, for there was no need to stop for her. She failed to remember how many walked by. 

How long had she been on the stone cold alleyway? 

How long had it been since she gave up to call for help?

How she wanted to clench her fists and curse the world. 

Her digits ran cold. It tried to squirm and wriggle but to no avail. She wanted to feel something once more. For one more time? For the last time? She wanted to feel warmth.

Her thoughts ran to her parents. Where were they now? Why were they not here with her?

Was it the shards on her legs that had them cast her out? Was she not beautiful in their eyes? Were they afraid of her infection? 

She wanted to cry.

She was cold. 

Nothing felt colder than the loneliness in her heart.

The fog from each breath she took grew ever so fainter and fainter with each passing minute.

Her eyes even started to blur out the scenery before her. How pale she became. Was it her natural skin or the heaps of snow that she saw?

Crying was out of her options. She wished for it. She yearned for it.

If only her wish came true. Especially today. 

It was her birthday. That, she knew as much.

She did not feel as much.

The hunger that bit her. 

The fatigue that drowned her.

The misery that haunted her.

Everything hurt and yet numbed over. 

She wondered when the last minute shall dawn upon her. 

A shadow from those glittering streets appeared before her. 

Her eyelids grew heavy. The last sight she caught was the shadow extending something to her.

The young lady abruptly woke up from her memories.

How long she was out cold, she wondered. She hated to wonder whether the Don caught her slacking on the job. Not that it mattered anyway. It was more or less done. Besides, a little daydreaming to La La Land hurt no one.

She perked up with a smile and a satisfying stretch. How she felt the surge of warmth on her bosom. Never had she felt so alive. 

How many years had it been since she came by this exact same alleyway? How many years from this desolated backstreet? 

Funny, she thought to herself. This alley was destined to be her resting place. Instead, her hits took her place.

Her eyes caught sight of the bodies, the corpses, around her. How the change of pace it was for her. Amused, she patted one on the back of the head, wishing him a nice little nap like how she did.

Blood, splashed and splattered, smeared and streaked across the snow. Bloodstains soiled her dark shirt and snow white skin. Shells of bullet casings were scattered. Scratches, beastly and violent, vandalised the walls around her. 

A numb throbbing punched her left sides. 

"One of you landed a real good hook, I'll give you that. It had me more excited." 

She sheathed her dagger. How she wanted to slash them with her sword back home, but keeping a low profile was essential. 

As if you're keeping me on a tight leash, boss, she thought to herself. 

She sat there though, satisfied with the carnage she brought forth to them.

"I had my fun. Be sure to get yourself nice and warm when you get to the next life." 

She flicked her flip knife to clean it of any blood.

Hoisting herself up to her feets, wobbly, she began her trek back to the family hideout. 

The labyrinth of the alleyways were a playground to her; her feet knew the way out. Those luminescent yellow lights, striking out of the neighbourhood windows, tainting the drifting snow above her head. Any other shades and hues of robust colours had faded off, more so succumbed, to the pure white snow that hailed. 

Those white streets were home to her. 

Through the seasons, she never failed to enjoy a walk outside, be it on the job or out for a stroll. It was a nice little town, lower to middle-class. Beggars were commonplace on the walkways, as much as the common folk shrugging and trudging through their lives aimlessly. Nothing spectacular happened within anyone's lives, unless they dabbled with the shady shadows within the mafia. 

The young lady knew the ins-and-outs of the mafia, the golden rules and commandments they were so stringent about. She cared not for it, for she was on borrowed time. How else could she describe it? She was saved that night by her saviour, and by all means should her saviour take it back, it was all well for her. She was content to live a childhood. She was happy to be alive at all. She was jubilant that she had a purpose. To her, she herself was a ticking time bomb. She only wondered when will be her last day. 

All that did not matter to her. With each hop and step, her childlike innocence flashed. 

How wonderful it was to be heading home. A home to come home to. A home with a family. Her family. 

Beyond the outskirts of the town was her house.

A simple bungalow. Not too shabby but not too well off either. Thriving from the off-beat path, it blared out with life. Glasses were clashing and clinking. Hurrahs roared and cheered on. Shadows with fangful smiles and twisted grins danced by the windows.

“Home sweet home.” She whispered to herself with a sweet smile.

The welcoming mat’s magenta colour were faded and dusty. A bit of the woodwork was cracked and creaking. 

A childish knock on the door, her trademark, was softly pounded right before she barged in. Those warm cuddling shades and hues of orange from the living room lights embraced her.

“I’m home, boys!”

Her voice, bellowing yet pleasant like a sweet cello, ranged through the halls and harked upon the merry guests.

The shadows ambushed her and yanked her up by her shoulders. The strength of many raised her off, and she began riding the wave of her men. 

"Ayyy, welcome home!" A voice shouted out with glee.

"Fucking hell, she got a bruisin'. 

"No worries about that. C'mon, she be stronger than any of us. She taught 'em all a lesson, ye?"

"I had to let them rough me up a bit. It'd be boring otherwise, ya know? Had to get the blood pumping."

"That's our girl. A loose cannon at heart, a cardinal sin by nature." 

They all laughed to the jolly spirit. 

“She’s back home. Get the wine out, Castellano, we gotta treat our birthday girl here, ye?”

The youngster pumped his fists up in the air before diving into the wine cellar.

“Aww, you boys remembered it was today. I would have ripped your heads off and cut off your tendons otherwise.”

They giggled as her grin became fangful. 

“Ayy, that’s our caporegime.” That thick Italian accent, something melodic, something forceful, chirped out.

"When will you become underboss, ya guess?"

"Good question. Since it's her birthday, she is probably getting promoted." 

"In your wildest dreams, boys. The last thing he want was to have me 24/7." They all roared with laughter. “Yo, where’s the boss by the way? He best not be sleeping with another lady right now.” She scanned through the crowd. 

“No worries, Capo. He always remembers his favourite girl’s special day. He’s upstairs by his study room.” One coughed out in that dreamy yet dreadfully screeching voice, “He even requested that you see him at once.”

“Ho ho, he must have a gift for me. How nice of him. First time he busted his wallets and not his nuts of a lady, huh?”

Laughter flooded the room. The bubbly atmosphere had all the misfits high off spirits, if not for the wine.

"Cheers for our girl here now." 

They toasted to yet another year for her.

It was funny how she remembered that haunting day, how it presented itself like a wolf wearing wool.

It was funny she dared not remember how they called her name.

Her birthday, however, she kept it close to her heart.

Once she was let down, she raced up the stairs and, though out of her character, politely knocked on those grand double carved-wood doors. 

"Come in." A hoarse voice softly addressed.

She waltzed right into that fairy-tale archives he titled as a study room. Charmed by the bulk of volumes stacked up on those dusty shelves, she remembered those childhood days where her eyes were tied and swirled in confusion by the sights. 

There he stood by the window sill, next to the fireplace. His exhausted eyes glanced over her before straightening his posture. 

She pounced on him and bear-hugged him. 

He returned the hug with an endearing hug. A hug not too firm but not too loose, like as if it was always ready for her. 

“Yo, boss! You rang for me?” She loosened her grip once he started to headpat her.

“Yes, yes. I have a gift for you." He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and led her to a corner opposite of the window sill. A bag, inconspicuous by design, for it was black and plain, sat by the coffee table. It was wide, much to her interest. Much more of it piqued her, for something oddly shaped poked out of it, like a sideway protractor. "Come by the corner and promise me no one knows of it.”

“Such secrecy. I’m excited already.”

He closed the shutters. 

He dimmed down the lights and let the fire by the side of the room sway to its natural rhythm. 

"My apologies. It is best if no uninvited guests predate our special moment."

He peeked outside before locking the door.

"Why the secrecy?"

“No worries. I'm merely taking precautions. Happy birthday, darling." He unzipped the bag and by the shimmering light, a silvery flash flickered before the silhouette of a blade peeked from the opening. The young lady stood by his side, puzzled. “I hope this is to your liking.”

She squared her eyebrows and scowled down on it. Her hair stood by the sights of this blade. 

This was no ordinary sword.

That much was obvious. 

Its craftsmanship definitely was not local or even Western-inspired. She was no blacksmith's daughter, but she knew the wrappings of the hilt and the length of the blade were not traditional.

“...Where did you get this from?”

“I pulled some strings here and there. Nothing to worry about.”

"My hunch is telling me otherwise. No offence, boss, but among all the trade secrets you shared with me, this is getting me queasy."

"Worry not. You know how I can take care of pesky rats. At the very least, we will survive, even for now."

"Even so, I can't always help with your rat problem. They will always have more in the shadows we never know."

He lit up his cigarette. 

"That, I know as much, which is why I am having you prepared. Tides are changing, dear. We may be a two-bit family, but even we will end up in the crossfire."

"Crossfire? What does that mean?"

"War is coming."

"Who? I'm willing to kill everyone for you, boss."

As much as she wanted to wag her tail, never had she felt this terrified.

"My sources tell me that the entire mafia family may have a civil war internally. One that could go South badly as soon as the hat drops." 

“Sources? Another one of your trade secrets?”

“Yes, ‘nother one.”

“Aye, boss.” Lappland planted a finger on her lips. "Can you even trust them?"

"It is better than no information at all."

"Aye, I hear you. Alright then. Anyways, what’s so special about this one? What's wrong with my sword down in the basement?”

“This is by far the strongest blade here in Siracusa. Why? It is regarding your Originium infections.” 

“What about it?”

“Remember how I found you dying on the alleyway a stone’s throw away that fateful night?”

“Yeah.” Her voice became softer, her eyes dimmer. “Not a fun night to remember.”

“Same sentiments. I questioned myself nearly every night on how to alleviate that curse of yours. I’m no medical expert, so I failed to reach any cures or treatments whatsoever.” 

He tapped on the leather tsukamaki on the sword's grip.

"However, I have an answer to your infection here. It will not grant you a cure, but it will grant you freedom."

He lifted the sword, both hands by each end of the sword, and presented it to the confused lassie. 

The closer it inched forward, the harder her heart beat. It was not like her to be nervous, she knew that much.

"Boss, I can't accept this, can I? My shiv here is enough. It gets the job done and I can fend for myself." 

"My dear." His eye, fresh but hung with dark eye bag, connected with hers. 

The young lady stilled her tongue. Both her eyes latched onto his, but not towards the one sewed shut with the scar slashed across. That dried scab of a scar. The sutures, the wrinkled skin, the age it came with. 

"Within this branch, I value each and every one of you. All of you were orphans on the streets. Together now, and forever more, we are family." 

He extended his arms forward, as the blade twinkled in the ember light. 

The longer she stared at it, the louder her mind barked her to grab it.

No logical reason came to her on why. Her instincts purely guided her right hand forward to the grip.

Her eyes trailed from that razor sharp tip of the blade down to that aesthetically graceful pommel. 

'As if it was made for me.'

Her body instinctively gripped onto it. 

Her soul was lit ablaze. Never had she felt this visceral pleasure stirring within her. A raw, sinful feeling within her overwhelmed her senses, yet never had she felt this form of clarity before. Never had any sword been attuned to her Arts easily, and never had she felt connected to a weapon. The sword, her sword, as if it was speaking to her, gazed back as hard as she did to it.

As she writhed in pleasure, her Godfather watched her come back to her senses on her knees.

"What's… What's going on…"

"By accepting this gift, you will uphold our family's honour. With this, your infection, your curse, will be your ultimate strength. Within your suffering…"

The exquisite blade flared with a silvery flame from her. These flames engulfed her arms and enveloped her sights. These flames danced and sprung to life as it climbed up her arms. Neither did they hurt nor inflicted any discomfort. 

All it felt to her was as if locks within her were broken. Burdens off her shoulders. 

"... You will find your salvation."

Her sight returned from that enticing delusion to the sword before her in flames. She knew this was her Arts. She knew this was her own Wolf Spirit. 

She never knew it could be this strong. 

"How… How can this happen?"

"I don't know the inner machinations of that sword, but I do know it tampers with the owner's Arts, especially those with severe Originium infections. It allows you to siphon your Arts directly to it. I have another one in the bag for you too." 

"I… I don't know how to repay you." 

"You don't need to." He yanked out a cigarette from his box before lighting it up. "It is your birthday after all."

She snapped herself out of it. "Funny. I never see you giving such a gift to the boys before." 

"In public? I love every member of this family. Behind closed doors? You're my favourite one, so my gift must be a tier deserving of your standards."

"Heh." Trying to regain her composure was a failure. "Thanks, boss."

"Besides that, I have an assignment for you." 

"What's it about?" 

"You will be sent for an inclusion programme to our Columbia family overseas. Orders from 'Mr Big' himself."

"What for?"

"Our Columbian family branch possibly is suspected to have betrayed our way of life back here in Siracusa. He needs someone to sniff out the evidence and teach them a lesson." 

"And why me?" 

He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm in the dark for this one." 

"Sounds boring. If I refuse?"

"Expect a hit on you."

"Sounds more fun. Can I?"

Her boss dragged the cigarette down to the butt. 

"Fine, fine. I'll take the job. How long?" 

"Until March next year. You start this Friday. Get yourself to know the locals there and see some sights over the weekends, you know?"

"Consider it done then." She rose to her feet. "Boss, one more question." 

"Why did you save me that night?" 

"You remind me of Lappland."

"Lappland? What about that region?"

"A breathtaking wonderland with thick blankets of snow as far as the eye can see." A small smirk graced his face.

"I… I don't get you, boss. Never mind then, but I will finish the assignment. I'll start right now."

"No. Enjoy your birthday." He gestured her to the door. 

"Yes boss!"

She skipped herself out the door and down to the boys for that massive cake they baked for her.

The Godfather sat down to his study table and began writing down a letter. 

"For you, dear."

Days went by and before she knew it, Friday arrived. All set for the trip, she waved farewell to her family once more before the metallic bird flew her off to foreign lands. 

There within the Columbian airport, she was greeted by Texas and her crew. Texas, as herself, nodded her head before extending a hand for a handshake. 

The young lady, on the other hand, clamped both hands on that single left hand, much to Texas's surprise. 

"How do we address you?" 

She took a moment.

"... Lappland. My callsign is Lappland. Wonderful to be your acquaintance. Hope we get to know each other well." 

Chapter Text

14 February 20XY

2 days after 12 February 20XY

An eternity was spent in that inferno of a taxi ride before her feet hit the ground. With every small bump and jolt of the taxi ride, her nauseating dread kicked up a tier higher. Her focus was not on the taxi driver eyeing her down on her Originium infections. She was too busy worrying. 

What did the message mean by her Godfather falling ill? Gravely ill? Too ill that he was sent to the grave? How ill? 

A hundred and one shrieking thoughts tore through her patience despite her trying to bolster it.

After alighting at a stone's throw away from the family, she alighted and hurled her briefcases behind the dumpster at her alley. It crashed down with a skid and a thud. It was out of sight, thanks to the night blanketing them out of sight. She unzipped and equipped her birthday gifts before sprinting towards the house. Those nearby that observed the dashing Lupo were wary. For those that knew, their hearts bled for her. For those that did not, they considered themselves lucky. 

Two shadows shuffled to their feet and leisurely trailed her. 

The wind howled terribly. There was no snow. Only the cold gusts of wind that pierced her pale skin. Those dim overhead street lights, those fading and flickering shades of orange, were but a fleeting comfort for the psyched out caporegime. The silhouette of the bungalow was a bit more down the road and that had her hasten. Only one thought paced in her head. Only a word.

'Boss.'

With each pant, her thoughts refreshed.

'Please.'

With each slam on the floor, her thoughts widened. 

'Please no.'

No words dared describe her terror.

'Please no. Please be safe. Please please please be healthy and well. Not now. Please be there waiting for me by your bed."

Lappland, now standing before the bungalow, froze up on the spot. Something was off. Be damned, something was way off. She was haunted by how right she was that something went horribly wrong. It was all telltale.

The lights from the windows were off. 

Bullet holes cracked the windows and riddled the walls. 

She peeled her eyes off from the blood stains on the window panels. 

The door, with a few splinters by the doorknob, was left ajar. Only the darkness invited her in. 

No laughter was heard. 

No friendly banter, no clinking glasses, no rough housing. 

Not a single soul peered through the window. Not a single family member. 

Something was off. 

She wanted to be wrong. She wished hard, even prayed, even begged, that she was wrong.

She knew, and hated, that she was right.

Her nightmare had merely begun. 

It welcomed her in.

Her feet did not want to move. 

She was scared.

Her finger coiled around the hilts even tighter. 

Scared of what? 

Be damned that she was scared. Her godfather was in trouble. Within her heart, she barked and ordered her legs to congeal and move. 

After the longest minute passed through her, her legs followed her orders and moved, albeit timid. 

Her heart was beating out of her chest. Each beating on her ribcage never felt so visceral, so terror-stricken. Never had a brawl had her heart racing like this, and right now, even her blood went cold. Ice cold. 

The wooden patio creaked under her weight. It always had. The bungalow was never in top shape. Even with the familiarity, each creak piled onto her sanity, waiting to be toppled by the moment. 

Her hand halted before the side of the door. A quick glance on the door and she knew a savage tore through. The door's peephole was shattered and massive splinters blasted off the lock set. Was she ready to face whatever is inside? It was not a physical threat, the idea that an intruder was preying on her, that stopped. Her swords were always in her reach. Matter of fact, whoever took their shot and pounced on her will not have enough to regret it once she eviscerates them. To her, words failed to describe this 'threat', or even 'trauma', she was about to face.

Her strength faded when her hand was about to push the door open. No pep talk prepared her for opening Pandora's box. She was scared. 

Maybe she got the wrong address? As if she dared to forget her own home. 

Enough, she thought to herself, they will all be waiting for me by the other side of this door. 

She puffed out a breath before forcing her hand forward. 

Lappland gently opened the door. 

Right beyond the door, she was greeted. 

One of her own soldiers. 

Sprawled on the floor. 

Castellano. 

The youngest of the family.

Her friend. 

Her 'brother'.

Dead. 

Shot dead. 

Two shots to his head. 

One in the eye.

One middle in his forehead. 

His remaining eye stared down the doorway. 

It stared right at her. 

Lappland hardly believed it. It was even harder to breathe. She gagged by the sights. 

She braced the door frame as her legs plopped hard on the floor. As she knelt before the corpse, the faint moonlight enhanced itself to paint the corpse a better picture. Left speechless, her attempts to call out his name were futile. The gruesome sight was enough to still her tongue. 

His brain matter, the sticky slush, that disgusting grey blob, splattered and scattered on the walls and floor. No longer was it in such a healthy shade of crystalline pinkish white, nor was it plumped and hydrated. All that popped out of his skull was that dried, shrivelled up wrung of brain matter stained with blood. Some even stuck itself to the walls. Some were even nibbled on…?

His left eye fared no better. Shattered, a hollow hole filled his eye sockets. That putrid mix of blood, aqueous humour and pus dripped down his face. The longer her sights glued onto that socket, she was scared of what may peek from that abyss. His right eye shot to the door to the outside, staring right past her. She feared for her mental state, for the longer she stared, the more often it twitched. Did it? She snapped herself out of the routine. 

His body was stiff. It laid there on the floor before her. His head rested on the wall behind him, and his eye, forever locked, gazed right at her. She had slaughtered many out of the name of the family and never had she faced something violating, something traumatising before. Seeing so much would had her guessing that she was used to such sights, but this was different. 

The smell. God forbid that smell. It was utmost pungent. She wanted to vomit by the reek of it. Was it the flesh decaying to blame? Was it that pressing, overwhelming scent of blood? Never had she smelt something so rusty, something so prickly. 

Were they all like this? Did her band of brothers share the same fate as he did?

Any form of rationality was thrown out to the front yard. Nothing had her prepared for this. 

Hammered down by the shocking development before her, she wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, right? She merely dozed off in the jet from Columbia. She was having a terrible nightmare. A nightmare too vivid. A nightmare too lucid. 

Was she? 

Was she really?

Her memory harped on the times they indulged in laughter and rough-housing. His smiling face, a face full of vim and vigour, a face full of a future waiting to be tapped on, was etched into her consciousness and before her vision.

Why him?

Why does it have to be him? 

As reality crept up on her eclipsing sanity, she wanted to rip her throat to scream. She wanted to tear her eyes out to cry.

She cannot. 

The nails on her left hand clawed into the wood. The nails on the right dug into her thighs. Trickles of blood stained her white skin. 

The pain revitalised her. Her legs began to congeal again from being jelly. 

She stood up, although quivering, and ordered herself to walk past and move into the house. 

Her hands, after supporting her, scrambled for the light switches. 

She flicked the lights open and shot her glance to the living room. 

Never had such a sight induced that foreboding feeling of queasy before. 

Never had she felt violated in her life. 

Never had she regret being alive. 

Until now.

The entire family, excluding the Godfather, was present. 

Everyone.

On the sofa.

On the floor.

On the coffee table.

Dead.

All dead.

Shot dead.

Just like Castellano.

Rats, by the abrupt flash of light, scattered. Their dirty feet scratched the wooden floor as they scampered about and away.

Her head was spinning. 

Her eyes were swirling. She cannot look, but she cannot look away. 

Her mind was spiralling out of control. 

Her legs, still standing, trembled. 

The audacity.

The horror.

The absolute horror. 

It was enough to make a man sick. 

It was enough to have her vomit. 

This assault was too grave for her to soak it in. No mental fortification prepared her for this. 

She felt herself spiralling down. Spiralling, spiralling, spiralling down. 

Light-headed. Nauseous. Lucid. Stunned beyond any idea. 

What was worse was she had to leave them.

In the cesspool of their own filth, she had to leave them undisturbed. In that wafting smell of rotting smell, decaying flesh and nibbled bits of skin, she had to have her back face them. 

She had to leave them. Never in her life had she considered leaving her own brothers in arms, not even abandoning them out cold like this. Never had she wanted this gruelling fate to be casted upon themselves. She knew, one day, that it shall all catch up to her. 

Never had she expected it to come this early.

She even had no idea who swept up the entire family.

Any form of revenge? Any idea on who to hunt down? Any clues? Out of the window. 

Her chances of steeling herself became bleaker by the moment. 

What can she do? What will she do? What else can she do? 

She hoisted herself up to the support railings of the staircases and sluggishly climbed up. 

The doors, those familial doors, those grand doors that she was too acquainted with, were left ajar. Getting shivers down her spine was an understatement. No words could ever be enough for the unsettling feeling swelling up within her. All the scattered splinters on the door lock, the deep scratches on the wall, that dark magenta blood stain dragging by the floor, it was more than enough for her. She knew what was coming. 

"Please…" Her voice trembled. That soft, honeyed voice shivered, just as much as her. "Please be well."

Her hand crept up to the door. 

"Please." 

She lost the will to fight back her tears. 

"Be safe."

She, once again, and for the last time, gently opened the door. 

The lights from the hallway flooded into the room and painted the scene for her.

There laid her Godfather.

The most grisly of them all. 

Bullet holes planted in his body as much as her eyes allowed her to see. 

The carpet below, the carpet she played on, vandalised with the ugliness of the scene. 

How she wished she was dead.

How she wished she could laugh, or even cry.

She regretted it. 

She lamented it.

She was no longer blessed with ignorance or bliss. Was it better to not know and be haunted for an eternity, or to know and be tormented forever? 

She wished to go back to her birthday and basked in those jolly old times. 

A letter peaked out of the Godfather's blazer. A light pink letter, with an addressee written on the cover. 

"For you, dear."

It was for her. 

She jumped on it. 

It was slightly wrinkled up but beyond that, it was surprisingly well-kept. 

She tore it open without a moment's notice in between. She knew it was his. His handwriting, that cursive stylish form, it was all his. 

"Dear,"

It began to unfold its message to her.

"If you are reading this, that means it was too late for us. I'm sorry. It was never meant to end up like this. At least I am assured you are safe and sound, and that is more than enough for me."

There was a slight circular dried-up crease by the end of that sentence. 

Her tears began to patter on the letter. 

"The true reason why I sent you away from the family for the 'inclusion programme' was because I wanted to keep you away from the civil war I mentioned. It was never instructed by Mr Big. I was delighted that you have found a friend, the Capo of the Texas family, and that it will be easier for the both of us." 

Her fingers clenched on the letter ever so slightly. She wanted to crush it up but she wanted to keep reading. This was the only time she could talk to him.

"Your swords, my gifts to you, are one of the major reasons why the war is ongoing. Many would kill to gain such destructive power, and I managed to procure and hand it to you. It cost me my life, but it was worth it to give you another shot in life. I never wanted to see you hopeless ever again ever since that day I found you. Now, with those swords, you will forever be free. That is a wish I have chased up until now."

She began to whimper. It hurt.

Her throat felt locked up, like a knot was tied up. It was hard to breathe, let alone control her breath.

She sniffled, fighting back the tears as she kept on reading. 

"I'm sorry that I kept you away from the family. I remember all the letters and texts you sent back to me throughout those times you were gone, about how you missed Castellano's cooking, or the family, especially me. I'm sorry I have to do this. I still remember when you were a mere child, reading and playing in this very study room with me. I wish I had more time to share with you. All I wanted was to give you a new life, a life away from this." 

She gritted her teeth. Her eyes squinted as her face tensed up in utter discomfort.

"I remember that fateful day when I adopted you under my wing. You were full of life and always so boisterous. I always took the time off to spend as much time as I can with you. I'm proud to have you as my own, dear. You were truly family to me. All of you. Each and every one of you." 

As the letter drew to its finale, she ripped herself away from reading the last few sentences to savour this bitter pleasure. 

This was the last memento she will ever keep. 

"I shall end the letter here. Please take care of yourself out there. The Texas family is your new family now. Please be nice to them."

She did not want to face the ending. 

This cannot be the end for her and her family.

Without her family, who was she left then? Who was she even? 

A hollow husk of the past. 

A lone wolf. 

The lowest of the low in the hierarchy. 

She belonged to no one anymore. 

She was worse than where she began, down that alleyway about to knock on Death's door.

Through the flood of tears gushing out of her eyes, through her shaky resolve and character, her head slammed hard on her deceased godfather's chest. 

"I love you, Lappland."

She was inconsolable. 

The bungalow was filled with the howling, the wailing, the grieving, of the lone wolf. 

Her heart was in anguish. 

She dug that letter deep to her chest. 

She wanted to hug him. 

She did not want to let go. 

Not now. 

Never. 

Never will she have another session where she could idly chatter about her days with him.

Never will she ever have the chance to beat up and toast drinks with her fellow men. 

Never will she even get another chance to say that she loved him all this time. 

She failed to even remember the time where she muttered out the words to him. 

She fell into a more miserable rut. Darkness engulfed her, cooed her even more to the tipping point. 

Her future, a future where she had everyone in her arms as they climbed the ranks of the family plagued, now plagued by this genocide, was hopeless. Her present, a present where she loyally served her godfather with her sworn brothers, now agonised by this grisly reality, was crushed. Her past, a past where she was adopted and taken in, now but a fleeting memory. 

Her soul, where her light, her spirit, swallowed by the abyss, was beyond salvation. 

There was no hope for her anymore. 

Everything she loved and cherished was gone. 

Just like how she was before her godfather adopted her. 

That sinking feeling. Utterly depressing. 

She cupped her head and sunk her fingernails into her scalp. 

Lappland could not handle it any longer.

She had enough. 

She cracked a smile. 

She cracked. 

The pain. Oh, how it sang to her. 

The misery. Oh, how it lulled her. 

The horror. Oh, how it empowered her. 

This nightmare was a lullaby to her. She tasted freedom from this dreadful reality and this transgression will forevermore be etched into her mind, her bone, her very pale skin. 

Her eyes concentrated on her godfather's corpse. 

'He is dead.'

'He is dead.'

'He is dead.'

She laughed and laughed until her sides busted. 

'He is dead. Whoever is responsible for this will live on in the next life.' 

Click. A gun cocked behind her. By the hallway lights, there were two standing behind her by the doorframe. They must have trailed her from other streets. 

"Hand your swords over and we will spare your life."

As she rose to her feet, her hands rested on the right sword hilt. 

"Don't make any funny moves, or we will sho-"

A wind chime rang.

They had no time to react. 

The silvery flash buried their vision and incinerated one of their heads before being crisply sliced open.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The bullets flew to the ceiling, and that had her riled up even more for the kill.

She crashed her sword right into the assailant that lost half his scalp and butchered him, slash by slash. His collarbone snapped into two like mere twigs. Each crack, each snap of the bone, had his partner screaming, hollering, for mercy. Yet, Lappland kept thwacking the assailant, over and over and over again. 

 The other narrowly escaped death, but his eye was the cost of his luck. He fumbled to the ground, pressing down on the floor to stop the bleeding.

"AHHH, MY EYE. MY EYE, MY GODDAMN EY-"

His squeals were halted by the stab through his shin. Choking by the pain, his body jolted. 

"Talk. Who is your boss?"

"YOU BITCH, YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE MESS-"

His shrieks of pain were amplified as the sword raised up to his thigh. 

"Would you like me to play a game with you…" 

She hoisted up her sword high up before it dismembered his fingers on the floor. Her smile cracked wide open.

"... Or would you like me to spare your life? If you want me to be in a nice mood, tell me who you work for."

"THE TEXAS FAMILY UNDERBOSS. HE CALLS THE SHOT."

"The…"

Her ears failed to believe any of this. 

Texas? 

Why?

"As if I will buy that." 

"I'M NOT LYING. THE UNDERBOSS OF THE TEXAS FAMILY IS TRYING TO USURP MR BIG'S POSITION AND BECOME THE HEAD OF THE MAFIA TOO. WE'RE ONLY HERE BY HIS ORDERS TO TAKE YOUR SWO-"

He had no chance to utter those words out, due to her swords plunging straight deep from his mouth to the back of his head. 

"You talk too much. I only asked for who you worked for." 

She pried his head up and patted him.

"You will do no good to me. Nice talking to you." 

The last vision he saw was her wicked smile. 

The last sound he heard was her maniacal laughter. 

Lappland howled with laughter, like how she laughed in those good old times. 

As her swords continued to mutilate the assailants, her laughter kept ringing and reverberating through those empty halls. Those halls, clanging with her bellowing laugh and wind chimes, had been showered and splashed with their blood. 

Once her interest of pointlessly stabbing them resided, she faced herself by the mirror and was amused of the new color theme she went with: black, white and red. 

She felt so alive, as if she was reborn into something new. 

She looked back to her godfather and rested her head on his. She pocketed the letter in an orderly manner and knelt by his corpse. Solemnly, she prayed. She wished that he will watch her by the Heavens and be with her by her side. 

"I will avenge you. I will make them all pay." 

She rose to her feet and stopped by the doorframe. 

Not before taking a family picture from his study desk. The picture depicted everyone in the family standing before the bungalow for a fun shot. 

Struck in the middle was Lappland and the Godfather together. 

She kept it close to her.

"I love you, Dad."

With that, she ran down the stairs and gave her entire family a proper burial. 

She showered the entire layout with gasoline.

With one more knot in her heart unwinding, she bid them a bittersweet farewell before striking the match and lighting up the house. 

"Now. I have a lot of work to do. There is no way I can reach Mr Big until I have some people cough up some clues." 

She walked off into the distance back to her briefcase. The eyes of the streets diverted themselves away from her gaze out of safety. They were all scared of the tinge of insanity within her eyes.

"Now."

She whispered to herself. 

"I will be seeing you shortly, Texas." 

She smiled. 

She looked forward to meeting her again. 

Chapter Text

The faint lingering aroma of lavender with that betwisting tinge of ylang ylang and chamomile wafted in the air, and the Doctor wished he dozed off with it. He wondered when Texas bought herself an air humidifier with some essential oils. Was she always interested in flora and fauna? He jotted it down on his mental notes. 

The longer he sat by her bedside, the more miniscule details he picked up, and the more he got weirded out. 

What did he expect? He knew close to nothing about her.

Never did he expect an entire album full of pictures with the entire Penguin Logistics cast. Admittedly, he invaded her privacy and sneaked a peek into it. In his defence, she was showering and it was left in plain sight, by her hanging shelves. It was asking to be read through. However, the Texas he saw then lit up brighter than she ever did with him in the office. Back in Siesta, the fiery epitome of tourist attractions, they snapped a group photo together. Another one back in Lungmen, after the Code of Brawl, there snapped Sora and Texas cheek-by-cheek, smiling endearingly to the camera.

How nice, as if they were sisters.

(He returned the album in its exact position and orientation before any suspicion aroused.) 

Never did he expect himself to wait for Texas to finish showering on her cushy, springy bed with that thick and heavy blanket, with that tiny penguin pattern across the blanket.

Wait. 

That thought slipped his mind.

She was showering.

He was so absorbed with these tiny bits of details that he forgot about that..

A naked Texas.

Next door.

“Control, Doctor. Control.” He mumbled to himself, trying to restrain those perverted thoughts popping up. He respected his own partner. He had never seen her like that, nor would he begin to. She was a good friend to him, nothing more. 

‘Damn it, Exusiai,’ He thought out loud, ‘If it weren’t for that picture of Texas in the swimsuit.’

He slapped himself to reaffirm his resolve, his determination, to transcend from these immoral tho- 

He slumped over. 

How else was it possible to calm down? He was in her room. Isn’t letting someone into your own personal abode an intimate sign of friendship or mutual understanding, or even more? What kind of flag was set in position for him? Red? Pink? White? 

He admired the underside of her bed. Spick and span. Spotless, without a speck of dust. 

He was a mess and he knew it. 

"I'm done with my shower, Doctor." 

Doctor immediately straightened himself and flicked away from Texas. Otherwise, they both would have caught him staring (or even indulging at the sights). 

“It’s alright. I am clothed.”

After an unnerving moment of courage, he pivoted his head inch by inch. Her white silky pajamas, with that glowing tint of rejuvenation struck him hard; her salient features that enhanced her cuteness. 

He wondered how he was this dense. He was not lovestruck, that much he reassured himself, but more so Texas shone in a different light. A light that did not resonate her stern work ethics or her strung-up personality. The Texas before him was soft and glowing. Maybe it was all in his head, but he swore that Texas polished her look.

She was always by his side, but had he seen her like this before? Not in an uptight, rigid, formal 'facade', but instead a casual laid-back personality? Her cool demeanour, with that snow white penguin-patterned pajamas, had him enticed. It had him lured in.

What was it with penguins and her?

He snapped himself out of that train of thought.

She was merely a good friend. 

Good friend.

No more. 

It was the whisky speaking to him.

He blamed the alcohol again.

He was tipsy and not thinking straight. 

Tipsy. 

Right. 

Sure.

"What’s wrong?"

The Doctor gave her the side-look and crossed his legs. 

"Nothing. Nothing at all. It's my first time visiting your dorm, so this is all foreign to me." He replied with a shaky voice. 

"What's wrong with mine?" 

"Nothing. It's just…" His eyes averted away from Texas. 

There, by the hanging cabinet above her bed, was the Shiba Inu dog plushie, flatter than he remembered. Its fur ruffled up and unkempt.

"Just?" Texas tilted her head, a tad bit annoyed with the Doctor trailing off mid-sentence.

"You've hugged my dog plushie, haven't you?"

She looked for a moment. "A couple of times. Why?" 

"It has only been a day since I've gifted it to you, and it seems that you have hugged the ever living stuffings out of it." 

Her ears twitched. "I fell asleep with it. Nothing more." 

Doctor boasted a smug smile on his face, painting it right in front of her. "Really now?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm quite the gentleman, ain't I? I knew you’d love it."

"Self praise is no praise, Doctor." After a sigh, she hung her towel out to dry. She poured them both some water from her personal fridge and sat on her swivel chair from her desk, facing him. "As I asked earlier, what are your comments on my room?"

This time, the Doctor had nowhere else to divert his eyes away. "It's cool…? Don't ask me to explain it."

"... Cool? How?" 

"I expected it to be different from this. Either lifeless and desolated with a lack of vibrance, or as if a hurricane visited your dorm, with respect to your Penguin colleagues. Instead, your dorm boasts quite the ambience. It’s very comfy." 

“I wonder what gave you that impression.”

“I figured you knew why I assumed so.”

“Go figure.” Texas raised her eyebrow whilst sipping on her water. "I would also like to ask why you are acting like a high school girl.”

"High school girl?"

"How else would I describe it? You were being restless and flustered once I finished showering."

"Don't blame me, how would anyone else contain their excitement?" 

"Excitement?"

"I… I mean you know those old Columbian anime adaptations and movies where teenagers go into someone's private bedrooms and become exposed to their friend's secrets, whilst talking about their wildest desires and perverse topics?"

Texas blankly kept his eyes on him. Only one thought crossed her mind.

"Doctor."

"Yes?"

"How has Amiya not reprimanded you for spending so much time slacking off? I am surprised you are the tactical commander with the tenacity of a fearsome warlord, and yet have the character of a twelve year old." 

"Ah." He giggled it off, "Fair point."

"Though, I share the same sentiments." She casted her gaze out the window, "Never had I invited anyone to my dorm. This is new to me."

"Even your Penguin Logistics friends?" 

"No. I fear they will mess my room up."

She had a point. Considering the gleaming star Sora, the trigger-happy Exusiai and the itchy fingers on Croissant, it came not as a surprise for him. "I'm honoured you consider me as 'well-mannered'."

"Better be." A frail smile popped up on her. 

"It begs the question though. Why did you let me in then?" 

"I thought you wanted to have a casual chat?"

"You had the right to decline my request."

"True." She sat next to him. "Truth be told, I enjoyed our conversation upstairs. I wouldn't mind continuing where we left off."

Such a tangerine smell emitted from her, a strong natural herbal scent, as if he was falling in love with the meadows, mountains and fields. It was a faint mix of lavenders and orchids. Was it her hair conditioner? He betted his money on her body soap.

The Doctor snapped himself out of it. 'Calm yourself down, my son.' 

"I mean, I will reiterate that I don't want to force my proposition on you. You have every right to refuse it."

"True, but my curiosity had me hooked to the idea. Beyond that, I have some answers I need to seek myself."

"Answers? To what exactly?"

"I prefer not to say as of now.”

“I see.”

The silence came in between. 

He caught sight of her scratched scutcheon on her desk, alongside that was a picture of an old man. An elder, clothed in a light blue chambray, with thin hair as silver as glittering jewellery and a scar across his left eye. His soft smile, a smile that tender, as if an elder happy to see his own grandchildren, contrasted the signature stern look that Texas spots. The Texas in the portrait, however, felt colder. Her eyebrows squared, no flush on the cheeks nor her eyes with that glimmer of friendliness.

"Is it regarding your former family?" 

"Again, Doctor, I will not disclose any information regarding my past."

"Then who is that man in the portrait?" He pointed straight at it without any hesitation or consideration. 

Texas was taken aback by his forwardness. She did not turn around. She knew exactly which photo he referred to.

He realised he crossed some boundaries, judging by the jolt of shock on Texas’s face. "I'm sorry for asking. You're right, I have no right probing into other's pas-"

She raised her hands to stop him and bowed by a tiny bit.

"He was my father." 

Her voice, reduced to muttering, was tender.

Her eyes locked onto his, but he felt a shade of sadness within those irises. A tinge of mourning, but only faint. 

"Do you miss him?”

“... yes…”

Texas crunched up her face ever so slightly, distressed by it. Never did he expect her to be upset about it. Apathy was what he expected.

"He must have been a great man.”

“... How would you know?”

“He raised you.” His tone was modulated and voice softened.

"Thank you." Her mood was lightened. It persisted though, the lingering thought. As if she was reliving something. 

"Is anything troubling you, Texas?”

She shook her head.  

“I mean, it may not be regarding your past. Has the workload been buckling or manageable? Your colleagues?”

“I have nothing to report as of now.”

"Alright then. I won't press on." 

She nodded, and, after a minute of contemplation, finally decided to sit next to him by her bed.

“So…”

"So."

"So..."

"So?"

"You come here often?"

"Are you absolutely joking?" Absolutely flabbergasted, her mouth was left agape. 

"Easy, easy." He flashed a cheeky smile. "Since we're alone, I've been meaning to ask you."

“If it is not another one of your bland jokes.”

“I promise you that much then.”

"Hit.”

"Do you have a crush on anyone?" 

"Preposterous." 

"I'm being serious over here. A number of quite well-endowed gentlemen are present within our staff. SilverAsh, Thorns, Phantom (or wherever he is) to name a few. On top of that, no one else is eavesdropping on us, so your secrets are safe with me.” 

"And to rebut, I must point out that you have no right to probe into my love life." 

"C'mon, Texas. This is the perfect opportunity to kick back and talk to your heart's content. Have you read or watched any slice-of-life where the plot develops to the two leads bantering and giving filler to the chapter which brings up new lights to their motives and depth of character?"

"Doctor?" 

"Yes?" 

"Please go on about your manga addiction, so I may report to Amiya how crippling it is."

"I'm doing my work." He pouted.

"Is that so?" The tone of her voice had him back out. A malicious tone, a tone laced with doubt.

"Please don't quote me on that." 

"I see." A smile, so meek yet that sinister, sent chills down his spine. She drew closer to him, "Do not worry about your addiction. Your secret is safe with me."

“Touché."

"You walked into it. If you had kept yourself quiet and in order, I wouldn't have amassed more blackmail material."

"Wait. More? You have more?"

"Would you like me to elaborate?"

"... Yes?" 

"Without further ado then. Firstly, roughly a month ago, you dove your face into all nine of Suzuran's tails."

Doctor’s eyes enlarged. "I can explain myself..."

Texas’s gaze pierced deep into the Doctor that was sweating bullets and nervously giggled.

"... I mean, how can I resist her? She's way too adorable and lovable especially with those fluffy huggable tails of her. She's like a daughter to me too, right after the Twilight of Wolumbonde event. I had to."

"You sound like the Red one.”

"Now that you mention it, yes. Please do not report any of this to Amiya or, even worse, Folinic."

Texas tugged her tail away.

“By your orders. I believe it is fine to report to Kal’tsit then?”

His soul was about to escape his body.

Texas smirked, “Tis’ be a jest.”

“Thank the Heavens.”

"While I agree that she is, in fact, adorable, you spent two hours on that day when we were swarmed with paperwork." 

"I… I can sense you bore a grudge on me for that."

"Yes, I do.”

“If it means any consolation, your tail is not bad too.”

Texas furrowed her eyebrows and widened her eyes. She cringed away from him, “Pervert.”

“It was a compliment. I didn’t mean it in a sexual sense.”

“Then how else would you mean it?”

“I…” He tapped his chin, unnerved by what Texas can do now with even more blackmail material. “I didn’t mean it…?”

Texas scooched away from him.

"I can see why you formulated a list." 

"Shall I go on?" Her fingers stroked and twirled around the tip of her tail. 

"Hit me." 

"Two, you failed to receive sufficient rest for a couple of days, due to you being engrossed in a new video game, resulting in us being inefficient in tackling that day’s work. I believe it was called Azure Trench." 

"Hey, that gacha game is insanely addicting. It transforms historical battleships to astonishingly muscular ladies and tomboys, with in-depth lore regarding their political and geographical disputes to boot. The gameplay itself is rewarding, allowing players to customise and swap out parts, diversif-"

Texas raised her to stop him in his tracks. "I see you are quite the fanatic. Had I not stopped you, I fear the morning will come once you have finished.”

"My bad. You should try it. I heavily recommend it. It's free too." 

"I appreciate the offer but I decline."

“... I get few gacha rolls for referrals.”

“I still decline.” 

"Alright, alright. Any more blackmail material?"

"I fear that if I continue, I will not dig myself out of the rabbit hole." 

"Fine, but please do not rat me out to Amiya. She will have me gutted for being off duty one too many times." 

"I won't." 

Doctor puffed out a sigh of relief. 

"If you do not force me to, that is."

At the drop of a hat, he tensed up, anxious of the havoc his partner may bring. 

"That was a joke. Ease up, Doctor." 

A nervous laughter leaked out from him. "You terrify me sometimes, Texas." 

"Good to know." Texas retreated from the conversation to recollect herself. She pondered what drink to have next.

Doctor, on the other hand, admired the view beyond the window. Seeing his own operators, old to young, melding, meshing and messing together on the walk back to their dorms, it warmed his heart, knowing that RI was a safe haven for all to prosper and grow. 

How would he describe them? His own army? His own operators? Was it essential to his operations that he look beyond their military and tactical prowess, to see them as a person and not some expandable soldier?

Army? How could he ponder something that defiled everyone’s identity and disgraced their dignity? Beyond their combat capabilities, this was his family. He failed to remember anyone blood-related, but this was good enough. No, this was better than having his own. This was a sanctuary to everyone.

Was RI a sanctuary to Texas? He wondered how much this home meant to her as one. 

"Texas?" 

"Yes, Doctor?" 

"I want you to know that I value and appreciate you as a good friend."

"What is this about now?" 

"No nonsense. I'm being honest." Doctor stared blankly to the space of the room. "You assisted me with so much of my work. Yet, I rewarded you with only gifts and freebies. Truth be told, I am lost on how to treat you better." 

"It's fine, Doctor. I was appointed as your secretary to help you with the paperwork and administrative matters."

"What I meant was I want to know how to treat you better as a friend. I want to know what makes you happy so I can give you that."

"Why are you so concerned about my happiness? It is futile, if not toxic, if you value my happiness over yours."

"I can manage my own welfare and happiness. However, it has been two months and I have less than a bead on what you like. By far, you were the most mystifying of all my assistants. Memorising your archive files, chatting up the Penguin Logistics, none did not grant me insight or even a eureka moment. Hell, I didn’t know which Pocky was your favourite until I asked."

"I will admit that is creepy, and there is no need for this.”

"There is."

"No need."

“I insist.”

"Doctor."

"Texas, I mean it. Tell me what makes you happy."

“Why then did you not ask me during office hours?”

“You were too occupied with work. I didn’t want to dampen your mood or disturb you.”

"So persistent, maybe even pestering. Such is the Doctor I know." She snatched the empty glass in his hand and left it on the top of the fridge.

"I apologise." 

"... I like animals and historical weaponry." 

He was amused by the thought. "Quite the combination. I can tell you like animals by your pajamas and your blanket. Historical weaponry? Where did that arise?”

"My father prided himself with his antique collections of weapons. Maces, bastard swords, kukris, daos, he was dedicated to his collection. It rubbed off onto me and from then on, I studied it as a pastime."

"Huh… Alright. I never expected this hobby of yours to be medieval.”

“While you may find it to be ‘outdated’ per se, I find it to be quite bewitching. Each weapon boasts their own family of combat arts, from the ancient Ursus learning swordplay with such brutishly heavy swords such as the Zweihander, to ancient Lungmen text depicting the grace and precision, the utmost optimisation, of each move. Every weapon, be it sharp or blunt, propagated or stunted, has all but one purpose and that is to kill. However, how they reach that purpose fascinates me.”

She paused herself by the haughty and puffed-up Doctor. Not that she dared blame him, because she instigated it. She was the one getting way too into her hobby.

“I’m sorry, it must have been weird for you.” She faced away from him.

“I am definitely adding that to my wishlist now.”

“Sorry?”

“Santa knows exactly what to get you for Christmas.”

“Doctor, you can’t win friends over gifts.”

“What I meant was, it was heartwarming for me to see you loosening yourself now and getting more relaxed. At the very least, I am learning about you more and more.”

“It… It’s embarrassing, isn’t it? My hobby.”

“Far from it. I always admired those with a hobby or a passion, because it adds flavour and depth to their character. To hear this from you means so much to me.”

“It can’t mean that much. I only shared a hobby with you.”

“It does. It means that I’m getting closer to you as a friend, because now I know what you like. I am slowly getting to know more of you.”

Texas blushed faintly, but that was not the clue to him that she was flustered. It was her childishly pouting and flicking her head away from him. “It’s not like it was anything interesting. I am sure you have studied many fighting styles.”

“You sound like a tsundere from my slice of lifes.”

Her swords began to crystallise. “Sword Ra-”

“I humbly apologise. Please do not make Doctor Shishkebabs.”

Her swords dissolved. 

“Then again, can you repeat that sentence and add a ‘Baka’ to it?”

This time, there was a whole chandelier of crystallised swords hanging above him. He did not even need to raise his gaze to the ceilings. The vast number of swords hanging above were enough to form a shadow below.

In a flash, he prostrated himself, “I deeply apologise. I will stop my antics right now.”

The shadow grew fainter. 

“My point stays strong. It was a wonderful change of pace knowing more of you.”

“You are making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“To the mole, it is a mountain.”

“I cannot refute that.” 

She could not help herself and yawned. “I believe our time is up, Doctor. I would like to sleep.”

“Understood. It has been lovely talking to you.”

As the Doctor raised himself up from the bed and stood by the doorframe, he stopped. “By the way, Texas?”

“Yes Doctor?”

He breathed in. He breathed out. He clapped his hands and faced her. 

“You looked really cute in your pajamas.” 

They both blushed hard. They dared not to face each other any longer, otherwise the Doctor Kebabs will be tomorrow’s lunch special.

He expected a Sword Rain on him now. He had no regrets. He unravelled that knot in his stomach.

“Thank you.”

He perked up.

He turned around and saw her rubbing her arm, fidgeting by the thought.

“Welcome.”

“Good night, Doctor.”

“Night, Texas.”

She closed the door.

He began to head back. Nothing more was need to be sai-

“By the way, Doctor?”

There spoke Texas through a small gap between the door and the doorframe.

He stopped, “Yes?”

“It’s Kuudere, not Tsundere.”

“Wait, what?”

She closed the door again and locked it up.

“Kuudere, huh.” 

He muttered as he walked down the corridors. “That’s an archetype I don’t read up often.”

Chapter Text

Not a single cloud hid that incandescent glee of the sunrise. Peeking from the horizons, it greeted all the operators mobilising for the reconnaissance operation. With the festivities behind them now, the Doctor, with his new ensemble of teammates, embarked on his journey to Lungmen.

“Remember.” Dr Kal’tsit’s stiff words echoed again in his head, “Only. Recon.”

Doctor shook his head in the car.

He yoinked out a pocket notebook, away from prying eyes, and ticked off a box dedicated for “Lungmen”. 

“One step closer.”

The ride was estimated to last a daunting hour. It would have bored anyone, especially those drained from last night’s festivities. With Texas driving, it was as if the car was their cradle, the gentle bumps and the silent running of the engine their lullaby.

The aux was playing some melodic tunes, not much to Emperor's tastes. Sure, it was Sora’s anticipated album, but he claimed, as quoted, “to not roll with this cutesy shit.” However, up until now, he had no urge to change the aux. His fin tapped along to the rhythm of the song. Catching himself in the act, he grunted with those squeaky penguin noises before watching the still life outside dash past.

Exusiai and Mostima were cuddled up, with Mostima’s head on Exusiai’s. That warmth was something nothing could replace.

Doctor took his nap in peace. The headache last night pounded on him.

“It must have been a long night for them.” Bison coughed out.

“Aye, boyyo.” Croissant coldly answered.

“Yea."

“Aye.”

Unfortunate for them, the middle row seats did not offer much space. They had to make do with the limited space they had. They squeezed together, shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Boyyo, mind me shooting ya’ a question now?”

“Sure.”

“Was last night true? You hiding me a crush on m-”

Bison lit up like a traffic light and flinched away from Croissant, “Ah! No, no, there was a huge misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to single you out. I didn’t mean to confess, but not like it was you I was chasing this entire time. I was forced by Lappland and the whole crowd to say something, but I definitely don’t have a crush on you.”

“Can you lovebirds pipe it down at front?” Exusiai groggily barked, “I need some sleep.”

“Sorry.” Bison sheepishly apologised.

“Aye.” Croissant looked out the window and slouched on the door.

Texas bit off another Pocky stick. She hated the idea that Lappland was by shotgun, even more so that her prickly ‘friend’ was as energetic as ever.

“Texas.”

Those words flew past her like the wind. 

“Texas.”

As if she wished she could treat it like the wind. She had been harking for her for five minutes now.

“Hey. Texas.”

If only. If only, she wished.

“Yes, Lappland?” Her voice, mixed with defeat and annoyance, called out to her.

“Wanna play a game?” 

“I’m driving.” 

“It’s fine, someone else can be the driver. It’ll be fun. Wanna play?”

“Lappland, may I request that I have a moment of peace throughout this drive?”

“Request denied.” Her snow-white fiend flashed a devious smile, much to her irritation. Texas rubbed her eyes and prayed that her patience would last for the ride.

Sora was enjoying herself, idly chatting with Silence about Rhines Lab and her mechanical buddy. She wondered if Rhine Labs would venture into the idea of boosting her popularity by manufacturing drones for advertisements.

Lungmen. Beyond that pearly and shimmering sea, there stood that glorious city. Its tall skyscrapers piercing the skies and protruding out like a sore thumb amongst the lower retail shops and, they forbid, the slums. Often they assisted with Wei Yanwu’s political agenda. Often times more had they argued against it. All the more had they crashed here one way or another, one event after the other. 

Their hideout, a rundown motel, was around the corner of the three-way junction within the slums.

“Stop the car.” The Doctor commanded.

The car halted twenty metres before the three-way junction.

“What’s wrong?” Texas inquired.

“Someone has been tailing us.” He subtly pointed behind to an unsuspecting car a few blocks down. “That has been following us since the expressway.”

“Orders, Doctor.”

“One minute.” He cracked his neck and stretched. “Eyes of Priestess.”

With that, his eyes were sealed shut and he reclined his seat. It was a sight to behold for his curious operators who never had the chance to witness his own Arts.

Within that darkness, within that empty void, the light became more and more blinding. Nothing but white polluted his sight.

Silhouettes. Standing silhouettes. Average builds. A weapon in their hands. Elevated position. Balconies. Balconies to a strip of house. Above a road. Main road?

Many more. The greenish-yellow aura of sulfur and that charcoal grey sprinkle of gunpowder. Pipes in their hand. Furniture. Reception lobby?

A silhouette. Different from the rest. Plump. Round. No weapon. Many more stood by with weapons. A VIP?

He awakened. He rubbed the temples of his skull, with the headache kicking in. “We have company.”

“Where?”

“By the motel. They were already expecting us. Nothing to worry about ‘though. Another day in the office.”

“Should we worry about bystanders?”

Doctor checked his wristwatch.

“It’s 0712. Those reporting to work would have either entered the metropolis area, or are still in transit towards here. No audience, only us.”

“Orders, Doctor.”

“Texas, left strip of ruckshops. Lappland, right strip of shuttered stores and windows. Clear through, then find any personnel within the motel on the top floor. I would like to have a nice talk with them. Mostima, freeze up the convoy behind us and take them out. Act like you're having a nice stroll in the park.”

“Alright then.” Mostima leisurely shifted herself out of Exusiai’s grasp and alighted.

“Roger that.” Texas jumped out without any hesitation. 

“Are they small fry?” Lappland threw a question his way.

“Considering the firepower they have? Yes.”

“Tsk. One arduous hour ride and we are starting with target practice? Disappointing. These punks stand no chance.” Lappland scoffed at the thought before jumping out. 

“Exusiai. drive us to the motel now.”

“You got it, boss.” Exusiai crawled from the back to the driver’s seat.

As they drove off, they heard the vibing ephemeral outworldly beats of Mostima’s Lock of Shattered Time. Those within the car thumped hard onto the window screens and counter, bloodying the inner space. Their bodies simply failed to handle the disruptive forces of their bodies beaten in space whilst being frozen in time. Beyond that, Mostima hummed a classical melody before waltzing right into the alleyways connecting back to the main road before the motel entrance.

The snipers, perched on the balconies, whistled to each other to assume positions. Their target was in their sights. Their crossbows, flaring red by their voltage charge, scoped in and dialed on the Doctor leaning on the counter of the car.

The Doctor innocuously watched them aim down. 

“If everything goes well,” he confided with the rest of the crew, “Those waiting inside won’t know what happened to their comrades outside.”

A wind chime was heard from the right strip of rickety shophouses.

A shadow befell on the snipers on the left strip of ruckshops. 

Through the rain of swords pelting, piercing, down on them, their sights failed to pick up on the elusive wolf bolting through each and every one of them. It was too late for them anyways, for the only remains of that fleeting shadow was a farewell gift: crystallised swords through their hearts. Any armour blocking their torso? Their neck was next. Fully geared up? Their eyes were next.

All this without a single effort wasted. Each move was calculated.

More wind chimes were heard from the other side. 

The wind chimes rang and bounced off those hollow walls within that maze of the shuttered shops above. Those stricken with fear scurried deeper, hoping their legs were fast enough. Those terrified fired off without a stable hand. Not that it mattered anyway, for the pale demon before them tore through them all. Her laughter was heard. That laughter. A laughter coaxed with that friendly sense of madness.

Not much shuffling was left within their vicinity. They stepped out and gave the Doctor the thumbs up.

By each of their balconies, they signalled each other that their vicinity had been cleared out. 

Lappland, with her digits bloody red, raised her hand with palms open, and flicked her head towards Texas. 

Texas checked her left and right. She raised a few fingers, indicating a kill count of 12.

Lappland, with the spirit of triumph invested in her, raised back a few fingers, indicating a kill count of 14.

Texas rolled her eyes. 

The convoy rolled up to the entrance of the motel. The Doctor alighted, pointing to the roof with one finger and curving his fingers downwards in with two fingers.

Texas and Lappland nodded before vanishing from his sight.

“Bison, Croissant, you two are up.”

“H’all righty! Time for a good ol’ rodeo, aye, lassie?” Croissant, with that jubilant smile, effortlessly raised her shield. 

“I’ll do my best. By your orders, Doctor.” Bison’s shield shone under the morning rays.

Mostima waved from the alleyway and regrouped.

“Fortify and cover the front half. Exusiai, Mostima, sweep and crowd control inside, keep civilians under control should there be any. Silence, dispatch your medical drone and stay behind.”

“What about me, Doctor?” Sora chirped out from the car.

“Almost forgot. Exusiai and Mostima always need an extra ‘oomph’ to their Arts, if you feel me.”

An energetic nod was her answer before she skipped right into the tango.

“Young miss,” Emperor kicked back, talking to Silence, “This be your first time around these parts?”

“Yes. I’m curious, however. Out of all the operations I have participated in, this is the first I’ve seen the Doctor being this callous with preparations.”

“Ain’t nothing to worry about,” he leaned in to the aux and shuffled the mixes, playing his tunes, “My girls can handle themselves, especially with the Doctor. We got nothing to worry about.”

Those white wooden doors were the only barrier between them and the mafiaso.

“Ready?” The Doctor inquired.

Bison’s shield interlocked with its sophisticated internal mechanisms. Croissant’s hammer, on the other hand, vibrated.

Exusiai’s wings fluttered and her halo’s luminescence bore brighter. Mostima had her eyelids drooping, with translucent scrawlings of incantations encircling behind her.

Silence’s drone buzzed silently by the Doctor.

Sora gulped before positioning her mic.

“Breach.”

Those doors splintered to bits by the Forte duo smashing through, and what greeted them was an entire troupe unleashing a hellish gunfire. That toxic smoke from the bullet discharging from the chambers; the flavours of a good ol-fashioned standoff. Ping. Ping. Ping. With that rapid shrieking of bullets deflected from their shields, Exusiai returned fire between the gaps of the fortified shields, painting the town red with her Kriss Vector. Any projectile, or even any fool that dared to charge forward, was only swept away by Mostima’s Key of Chronology.

Sora cheered on and on, pumping up the defence of the Defenders and amping up the ante of the Laterano duo. Each bullet from the raining angel punched into their armour harder and harder. Each bullet from the assailants felt lighter and lighter. 

One by one, bodies hit the floor. One by one, the clambering of shell casings lessened. One by one, the sound of gunfire became muffled. 

With that, the motel lobby fell quiet yet again. 

They rushed up the exit staircase and stacked up to the left of the top floor’s door.

“Croissant, Bison, Mostima, stay behind and ensure no one comes upstairs. Exusiai and Sora, on me.”

“Roger that, Doctor.”

With that, Doctor flung the door open and, in a grandeur yet distasteful manner, taunted the melee combatants deep in the hallway.

Provoking them was all according to his plan, and it succeeded. 

Exusiai merely aimed her sights, her trigger finger itching to dispatch those charging towards him. Sora kept on humming her song, preparing her song for the climax. 

They were 30 metres away from him.

Exusiai remained composed. Her cool was not tempered with.

Sora swayed her head to the melody looping in her head.

The Doctor crossed his arms, indifferent to the oncoming assault.

20 metres. 

Exusiai flashed a smile. She felt goosebumps.

Sora began to sing.

The Doctor still waited. 

13 metres. 

Their rusty pipes were primed and ready to swing.

Exusiai had her sights locked on their heads.

Sora’s voice shrilled up to higher pitches. 

12 metres.

The Doctor steeled his sights.

11 metres.

Exusiai’s trigger finger was about to pull.

10 metres.

“Showtime.” He barked forth. 

The climax for the melody peaked.

A wind chime rang behind the crowd, and an ethereal form of a silver wolf dove straight into the crowd.

A barrage of swords was in pursuit, crashing and splintering off, digging and piercing through. 

Exusiai overclocked herself to Overloading Mode, unloading clips after clips into the masses before her. 

The Doctor merely stood by, watching the carnage unfold before him. Not even a single scratch on his robes.

As the dust settled and the bodies twitched no longer, Texas and Lappland greeted them.

“Very coordinated. I’m proud of you all. That means you too, Sora”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Sora beamed a smile as bright as her stardom.

“I believe you found someone willing to talk?”

“Yes Doctor.” Texas answered.

“Perfect. Lead me to him.”

Texas led them to a guest room, with one of her crystallised swords nailing down a middle aged balding man by the calf. Blood dripped from his palms and the lower arch of the blade. Little did he know how it worked, for there were no false edges on that blade. Razor sharp, he learnt the hard way.

The Doctor approached him.

“May I ask, Mr…” 

He knelt and took a good look at the motel manager’s name tag. 

“Mr Esaurito. May I ask why you had Reunion members by the reception area? I find it hardly welcoming, let alone hospitable.”

“You dog.” He spoke with a Siracusan accent, an accent Lappland was all too familiar with. “I will have you killed for this. Do you think you will get away with this?”

“Why, yes. Yes I will. Who else did you think you were messing with?”

“In my eyes, a bunch of pathetic lambs waiting for their turn in the slaughterhouse. May Talulah avenge me and save me from you, you warmonger.”

“Doctor,” Lappland approached behind him and laid her hands gently onto his shoulders, “May I rough him up?”

“Stand down. I need him alive and talking.”

“What makes you think I will talk? My tongue is tied. My soul is sold. The only thing I’ll say to you? Bafangu chooch.”

“I insist,” Lappland spoke through gritted teeth, grinning from ear to ear with such an intense crazed look in her eye, “that I rough him up. It will make anyone talk.”

“Promise you won’t kill him?”

“That.” Her hands coiled around the wrappings of her hilt. “I can’t promise.”

“Until you can, stand down. I need him alive.”

The manager spat on his robes.

“Texas, the knee.”

Another crystallised sword plunged right into the kneecap, tearing through the cartilage. That colourless synovial fluids leaked out, unable to mix with the sputtering blood accompanying out. The sword inserted through the handicapped manager’s leg without resistance, nailing down into his leg. 

Lappland winced and fidgeted. How she wanted to be the one to deliver blows. 

Texas kept her stare on the manager biting down on his lower lip to stop himself from screaming. He gagged hard, as if the pain was choking him from screaming.

“Mr Esaurito, I am by no means sadistic or malicious. I do not wish to harm you any further.” He gestured the medical drone to close in, “We have treatment that can restore you to the pink of health, if you cooperate with us.”

“My dignity…” He coughed out those words, with that shredding pain chopping up his sentences, “It’s not for you… To take...”

“Listen.” He dragged the drone in closer, “All we have for you is one question. After you answer it, we will leave you alone. Capiche?”

“... What is this question?”

“Frankly speaking,” The Doctor closed in, “Who supplied you information of our arrival? Who’s the rat?”

“I swore an oath… I swore an oath of silence… I will never break the omerta… I will not rat him out.”

“This.” He tapped on the drone. “Last call now.”

“Never.”

The Doctor sighed and shook his head. 

“I will respect your decision. Pleasant to be your acquaintance, Mr Esaurito. Texas, rev up the engine.”

He rose to his feet.

“Everyone, pack it up.”

As everyone walked out, he halted by the doorframe and paused for a moment.

“Lappland?”

Her ears flickered.

“He’s all yours.”

Lappland cracked her knuckles and raised her sword up high, its tip almost scratching the ceiling. She could taste the blood already. “Remember me?”

“Wait. Wait, I will talk. Stop.”

The Doctor raised his hand.

Lappland obeyed and pulled back her sword even harder.

“STOP. I WILL TALK.”

“Talk then.”

“It was one of Lin Gray’s men. He overhead the messenger discussing about how Rhodes Island will be coming.”

“You got a name?”

“No. All I knew that an insider gave us the heads-up. All I needed to do was prep’ the ambush.”

He nodded.

He gave the thumbs up.

“Good night, mister.” Lappland’s words, tinged with a mix of childish innocence and utmost terror, “I hope you see everyone else on the other side. You won’t feel lonely anymore.”

She swung down.

Mr Esaurito shut his eyes out of pure fear.

His breathing was still. 

Completely still.

Thud.

That was the end of it.

Was it the end of him?

He still felt his blood pumping, but not gushing out.

He laid there, frozen.

His breathing, albeit instilled with fear, slowly became stronger and stronger.

He opened his eyes.

Lappland’s smug look welcomed him back to the world of the living. “Good morning.”

The crystallised swords by his legs evaporated, and what took their places was that medical drone beaming down a sweet scenting everblossom green around his leg. No longer did he feel that acute sharp pain spiking through his nerves, as if his nerves were grated and minced up.

“You’re lucky the Doctor isn’t me.” 

His sights flicked back to the hungry Lappland before him.

“If it was, you would have been long, long dead.”

She giggled off, her giggling fits poisoned with that familiar madness and hunger for chaos, before skipping out of the room to join the Doctor downstairs.

“Don’t do anything foolish now. We know where you work.”

Mr Esaurito, dazed by the sequence of events that unfolded before him, refused to believe it. He broke out to a cold sweat, realising how fortunate he was. The palm of his hand rested on his chest and ensured that he was still breathing. 

That slow, deep rise on his chest, with that pungent sting of gunpowder in the air entering his nostrils. 

That slow, deep fall on his chest, with that warm gust of air out.

He felt blessed.

Only in this moment of respite did he remember his fatal mistake.

The window behind him cracked.

A 7.62mm bullet entered his neck, snapping his brain stem like a knife to a sheet of paper.

He did not hear the gunfire. 

He slumped hard on the floor in his own pool of blood.

“Traitor.” 

The unknown sniper, a couple of blocks away, whispered under his breath, before stripping his sniper and running off. 

Meanwhile, at the lobby, the team did a pat-down on each other, counter-checking if any injuries were sustained.

“I have good news and bad news.” The Doctor stood on the coffee table and announced in the lobby, as the medical drone and Silence did their job, “Bad news is our presence is now known to enemy forces. They will be upping their ante and resistance will be fortified against us.”

“And the good news?” Bison asked.

“Good news? Our presence is now known to enemy forces, and they will be upping their ante and resistance. In other words? We’re going to have fun.”

The PL crew grinned, except Bison, who was puzzled by the development. He puffed out a sigh before shaking his head slightly. “Another day in Lungmen with them, huh.”

Lappland booted down hard on the coffee table, having Doctor shakened up. “I wanted more. This was not even worth anything. How can I be stronger like this?”

“Get down from the coffee table.” Texas fetched herself another Pocky stick. “What now, Doctor?”

“Since we have no reason to go for a covert operation, I say we drive up to Lin Gray’s and find the rat.”

Bison raised his eyebrow, to which the Doctor picked up the cue.

“I meant the traitor. Right, I can’t say rat in front of him. I’ll have a sand burial otherwise. Off we go then.”

“What about the damages?” Silence questioned.

“Emperor can pull some strings and freeze our bill until our operation is done. Until then, not a single word to Kal’tsit. Otherwise, it will be my head on a silver platter.”

He pointed to Texas.

“And no, this does not count as blackmail material.”

Texas smirked before nodding back.

With that, they drove down further into the slums, unbeknownst of what will happen next.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure this is fine?” Bison raised an eyebrow to the idol whose mouth was watering down a flood.

“After a brawl like that? It’s totally justifiable that we’re famished. Nothing wrong with grabbing a bite here and there.” Sora squeaked out with glee.

“Lunch would be nice, yes, but…” Bison doubted her priorities as her comically large parfait arrived. “That hardly seems like a meal.”

“It’s an appetiser.”

“Appetiser? That dessert is enough to be the entire course. Color me shocked that you still keep quite a slim figure.”

“Excuse me? At least I’m not a walking bag of bones, bucko.”

“At least my calories get burnt off carrying my shield.”

As Bison and Sora yapped and yelped at each other, the rest of the crew ordered their meals at the cafe. A regular cafe down the street, with not much posh furniture to boast. Cafe seemed to be overestimating it, to the Doctor, it seemed like a diner. A regular cozy diner.

“I thought we’d meet up with Lin Gray first, then have lunch together.” The Doctor inquired, “Considering how hot the zone is with enemy presence, why did we stop here?”

“Nothing to worry about, homie,” Emperor squeaked out, “Imma tell you this joint has all the goods for our stomachs. You can’t miss this, man”

“Beyond that, aren’t we risking ourselves being here? What if another ambush is lurking nearby?”

“Ladies, what’s our company motto?”

“Go with the flow. Long live the Penguin empire.” Exusiai chirped.

“Besides, why don’t you do those magical hijinks where you see the future then?”

“If I want to have a splitting headache in every waking moment, then I wouldn’t mind at all. I only use my Eyes of Priestess should it be necessary.”

“Now be necessary?”

“So far? No.”

“Now be the good times rollin’.

The Doctor handed it to him.

What are the chances that the Reunion-backed mafia had pinpointed their location? They had to rummage for information back in the wasteland of a motel.

“Hit me with your recommendations, Emperor.” He drank a mouthful of the iced latte he ordered. 

“What’s the plan now, Doctor?” Texas asked.

“Stick to the plan. Meet up with Lin Gray and discuss further course of action to rescue Lin Yuxia. By right, we were instructed to minimise any forms of contact or encounter, but by left…” He bobbed his head to the sides, leaving the sentence to explain itself.

“Fair point.”

“What struck me as odd was the double-agent within Lin Gray’s mafia. The spy had procured evidence that Rhodes Island will be supporting him. Why then did the Reunion mafia not press down on the condition they imposed on him, to not call for back-up?”

Now that he mentioned, Texas gave it to him. 

“Until we interview the rat, it’s up to anyone’s speculation.”

“Doctor.”

“My bad. I meant ‘spy’. It’d be offensive to greet hi-”

“Doctor, I did not mean that.”

“What else the-”

A rocket propelled forward and detonated into the cafe, followed by the generous spray of gunfire. The bullets flew everywhere, for that thick fog of smoke was puked out of that cafe.

*Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.*

They seized fire as they began reloading and readying their sights.

The dust began to settle, and a small silhouette emerged from the dissipating mist.

“Aye, ya got your noggin’ joggin’, boyyo. Knew ya one of a true blue Forte.”

Croissant, with that silvery misty debris from the diner’s foundation and black smog becoming her makeup, deflected the bullets. She nodded at the knocked out Bison at the back of the cafe. If his shield interlocked in time, he would have remained standing. Unfortunate for him to bear the full brunt of the explosion. Silence’s medical drone jumped straight onto Bison, as fast as Sora jumped to his side, trying to shake him awake.

“Exusiai…” Doctor coughed, hardly breathing due to that thick smog, “Return fire. We need to fall back.”

“Saviour, one minute.” Her hands shuffled through the piling debris. To hell with the glass shards that prickled and pricked, where was her prized vector? Mostima lent her assistance. There was no point for her to counter-initiate the assault, for the assailants were out of her range.

Croissant, still pinned down by the barrage of bullets, could hardly stand against them. “Aye, these bullets be hefty heavy. I reckon we ain’t able to fight ba-”

Lappland, with glittering pricks of tiny glass shards on her bare skin and those dripping dots of blood, sprinted forth. Raring to go and roaring to life, “I’m right here, boys.”

Even with the shower of bullets, it merely grazed her. Each flesh wound livened her up, that stinging pain excited her even more. Her footwork, albeit sloppy, was enough for her to twirl and tango around their line of sight. The stage was coming to life, and the main actress was approaching her endearing audience.

“Texas. Get her back.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Texas bolted out, noting down the reinforcements by the windows nearby. She knew it was suicidal to jump out in the open and luck was never a factor she relied on, not even for Lappland. Brute strength will not save the day for her. Even through all that, she had no choice but to keep running forward, because backing out and u-turning was not an option; Lappland will not die here.

Lappland cared less about what was at stake. She cared even less about keeping her distance. Up close and personal, she could taste their terror as their final moments closed in on them. She thwacked and thwacked into their bodies, with each whack biting deeper into their wounds. Once one failed to respond to the pain anymore, she jumped to the next. How she wished to pop off right now and shred them to bits.

“Eyes of Priestess.”

Doctor fell back into the darkness, regardless of the repercussions entailing. 

The darkness engulfed him and the light flashed yet again.

Silhouettes. Ten. Twenty. Thirty? No. It can’t be. How many were ther-

The cresending crashing of another rocket detonating snapped him back to life.

“Get another shell ready!” Those vultures outside harked to each other.

Croissant crashed to the back of the cafe, with her consciousness faint but stable. She was a tough cookie but she felt the aftershocks through her body, those riveting tremors from her shield down to her bones. It hit like a truck, but she had enough rodeos for a lifetime to ride this out.

Exusiai’s Vector returned to her hands and clocked herself into Overloading Mode, precisely taking heads off. 

Not enough, the Doctor thought, too many are present.

“Texas,” he beckoned, “Retreat. Zone is too hot.”

“Trying,” Texas evaded a blow from an opponent, “However, Lappland is proving to be quite a tenacious one.”

Lappland merely hollered out. Laughter and laughter until her sides cramped. Joy and happiness until she swung no more into the poor victim. All she did was laugh, with each slashing blow heightened her delight. “Come on, just a little bit more and you’ll be able to defeat me!”

“Sword…”

Lappland raised her head up and welcomed the crystallising swords.

“Rain.”

The swords hailed down, but intentionally missed her. No, they landed their marks, with each sword slipping past and pinning each flailing limb Lappland flung around with surgical precision. As the final sword stabbed down on the floor, Lappland was no more than a distorted scarecrow.

All the worse for Texas was she had to defend her from the assault.

“Texaaas, you missed. I would love to spar with you here, like the old days.”

“Now…” 

She deflected the barrage of bullets coming to her side, but suffered from deep grazes.

“Isn’t the time…”

Parrying the thrusting sword, her blade entered the assailant’s throat.

“For this nonsense.”

“C’mon, Texas. I’m sure even with this cowardly side of yours, we can elude these pipsqueaks and take each other on.”

She clocked an assailant square on his head, knocking his teeth out.

“We have been ordered to retreat.”

“The Doctor is a killjoy.” She sighed before plucking a sword and slashing the throat of a charging brute. “Fine, fine. You owe me a fight.”

Texas wriggled out of a choke hold and backhanded the grappler.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

Those pins caging Lappland dissolved into the violent gusts.

“Found you.” She cocked her Vector. “Lock and load.”

Exusiai’s covering fire granted them precious time to slip back to the burning cafe. Doctor reeled himself back to his feet and tried to hoist up either of the knocked up defenders (and failed to do so, for he severely underestimated their shield’s weight). Lappland hoisted Bison onto her shoulders and Texas, with Sora, supported Croissant by her arm. With Mostima and Exusiai maintaining their fire, they all scurried to the back of the cafe.

Their feets shuffled to the underground parking lot and revved up the engine. 

Texas slammed on the accelerator and the car roared to life before driving off. 

“We have company.” They began to tail them. That had Texas doubling down on the gas pedal, and Exusiai quintuple her firing.

“Another day with Penguin Logistics.” Emperor kicked back and relaxed. 

“Eyes of Prieste- Texas, please drive smoother.”

“Be my guest and drive then. I would love to see you try.”

“Fair point.” Doctor backed off, “Eyes of Priestess.”

The darkness banged against his body but he strengthened his resolve to keep through. 

The light was much more blinding than before. His irises were scorched, his brain scrambled, bumping side to side of the walls of his skull. It was not the turbulent ride that had him on a roller-coaster, but instead it was his sanity depleting by the millisecond. 

He kept onto it until he had some answers for the surmounting predicament they were facing. With that scorching searing pain etched into his head, he awakened.

“Texas, drive to the highway.”

“Roger.”

“Silence, part with your drone. Head for these coordinates if possible.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Sora, sing your lungs out and patch Bison and Croissant up. We will need to move soon.”

“Will do.”

Texas wrung the wheel to the right, abruptly cutting a 90 degree turn and swerving through the oncoming traffic. Those that were knocked out were grimacing much harder than those who were fully awake to witness such a ride. 

“I’m about to puke.” Sora bulched out those words, feeling a bit queasy.

Bison weakishly popped a smile. 

The car vroomed up the slope and lo and behold, by where they were on the highway, there stood those opulent skyscrapers glimmering, greeting them with that boisterous grandeur. Not that they had the time to admire, for those giving chase were razing those long strips with hellfire. 

Texas shifted to the highest gear and cracked the pocky stick in her mouth.

That lucky bullet, one of the stray bullets they rained on them, bursted one of the tyres. 

The tyre dragged fire and, next thing before they realised, they slowly, but surely, caught up to their pace. 

Mostima and Exusiai clocked in their Arts onto those approaching but those vermin kept swarming in, their numbers not even dwindling. To their demise, their Arts did merely a dent to their numbers. How they rallied an insurgence, no, an army, it was beyond them. 

What was worse was this was their territory, not within the city perimeters. It was free for all.

The next tyre was punctured by another straying bullet. 

Sparks erupted from the rims digging into the gravel of the roads. Even at the top gear, the car slowed down, second by second. 

One of the assailants on a motorcycle sped up and prepped a swing on the shotgun window.

Only to be greeted by a smiling Lappland.

Oh, that smile, only a carnivore could flashed those teeth. That was the last thing he saw before that blade cut his throat.

Texas latched onto Lappland, ensuring that she did not fall to her death, even if she was tempted. 

The cars caught up to her and banged by the car’s rear.

It swerved out of her control, and before they all knew it, they overturned. 

The mafia army circled around, forming up a barricade, and readied their sights from the smoking flipped car. 

“By orders of our captain, step out of the vehicle and surrender yourselves. Failure to do so will result in your immediate death.”

Struggling, they crawled out and had their hands up.

“Any ideas, Doctor?”

“This is all according to plan. Let them approach us.”

“Ah, the infamous Doctor of Rhodes Island.”

A husky deep voice stepped out from the army of shadows. The men parted ways to give him a path. There stood he, a Lupo male, dressed with such flourish floral designs, his hair short though with the same dark shade of blue as Texas spot. His eyes, worn off by the years that passed by him, had not that zest of youthfulness but that tinge of wisdom, a wisdom that accompanied any elder, a wisdom reclaimed by blood.

Him alone had Texas’s eyes widened and her teeth gritted. Her knuckles became white. 

Lappland, her eyes bloodshot red, hardly breathed. It was hard to breathe, oh how much she wanted to choke that man. Her excitement was barely containable. If it were not for the Doctor, one suicidal front was all she planned to do. 

“Even better, he is accompanied by my honourable Texas and that dishonourable mutt.”

“You fucking pig.” Lappland screeched, as she immediately reached for her sword. It was not the spokesman’s men readying their rifles that stopped her, because it was the Doctor cooing her to stand down that did the trick.

“What do you want with us?” Doctor spoke out, “What have you done to Lin Yuxia?”

“Lin Yuxia is fine. We had already returned her back to Lin Grey. All we needed was to bait that old rat to rope you all in so that we may have a negotiation of sorts.”

“Negotiation? What are you scheming?”

“Nothing vile. Not even remotely villainous. More so, it is a personal request.”

“Name your price.”

“Doctor.” Texas snapped.

“Let him talk.”

“My condition is that I will receive both Texas and Lappland.”

He pointed at Texas. “I want to uncover the secret Arts of the Texas family.”

He pointed at Lappland. “I want to use her swords.”

He cupped his hands together. “With these two together, nothing can stop me.”

“Too high a price for me to pay.” 

“Refusing to agree to our terms will result in…” He gestured towards his men, “You know. I won’t spell it out for you.”

“I’d love a good brawl right now, especially with you, you spineless Artless asshole.” Lappland barked at him, to which failed to provoke him. “Mark my words that I will gouge out your innards for what you haVE DONE TO MY FAMILY.”

Lappland’s feet began to carry her, but Texas caught her in a choke-hold. “This is not the time for vengeance, Lappland. Not now.”

“NOW IS THE TIME. THAT FUCKER KILLED EVERYONE.” She tried to wiggle out of the grip, “HE KILLED MY FAMILY. HOW CAN I LET HIM GO? HE KILLED HIM. HE KILLED MY FATHER. LET ME GO.”

Tears leaked out of Lappland.

Were they tears of desperation?

Or were they tears of vexation?

She clawed into Texas’s forearm.

“Look around us. We will not get out of this alive if you gun towards him now.” She whispered as she tightened her hold a bit to emphasise herself, “Now isn’t the time.”

“PLEASE TEXAS. LET ME KILL HIM. I’VE GOTTEN SO MUCH STRONGER JUST FOR THIS DAY. I CAN’T FACE DAD IF I DON’T KILL HIM. PLEASE.”

Texas was losing control of her anger. She was nearing the point of crushing Lappland’s windpipe.

There was once a time Lappland felt fear. Now was another time, for her vision became hazy and her head became lighter and lighter.

Her body went limp.

“Who are you?” The Doctor asked across the distance.

“How about Texas explains it to you?” 

Doctor flinched to look at Texas. Her pensiveness was much more adamant, much more obvious, than her usual self. No, any other day, that aura around her would be composed and chilled. This was different. She did not blink at all for a long, long time. Her eyes were staring holes at the man. 

“Let her inform you about her former underboss of the Texas family.’”

Texas bit down on her lips.

“You traitor.” She growled.

Everyone’s sights were on her. Emperor did not bother to flick his gaze to her, for her past was never his business. He knew that as much. However, the remaining Penguin Logistics cast locked onto her. Their ears refused to believe that claim. 

“No need to.” The Doctor riposted, “There is no need to delve into the past. It’s pointless anyways. What matters more is your conditions.”

Texas softened up to Doctor.

“Have it your way then.”

“How will you ensure our part of the deal is fulfilled?”

“I am not a moustache-twirling villain who backs out of a deal as fast as they receive what they bargain for. I will disclose that the borders of the Lungmen outskirts, be it entering or exiting, have been shut down on my orders. Even with your mercenaries, it will not suffice, that I assure you. Hand over Texas and Lappland and I will see it that you will return to where you came from.”

“A counter-negotiation then: I need a car too, preferably enough to send all of us back.”

“Doctor.” Texas was left agasp by him seeing her former underboss eye to eye.

“I will have it prepared for you. No explosives, no trickery of the sort. I will have my men hung for any otherwise inappropriate measures taken against you.”

“One question before I arrive at my decision. Who are you exactly?”

“Pardon me. It has been too long since I have had the pleasure of being one’s acquaintance.” He bowed respectfully. “My name is Traditore Dellio, the former underboss of the Texas family, now a confidant of Talulah overseeing the Lungmen Slums and the Black Market within. It is a pleasure to be with you, Doctor of the formidable Rhodes Island.”

“What do you want with Texas and Lappland?”

“I wish to hear your decision. You have promised me that you will only ask one question. I will entertain any other question afterwards.”

“Sorry, man. I’m not handing over any of them. They’re family to me.”

“Family?” He nodded his head and had his eyes trailed off. “It has been awhile, hasn’t it.”

He raised his hands. Each of his men squinted their non-master eye and had their iron sights locked onto each of their heads.

“Quite a disappointment to see you’ve decided death then. It has been a pleasure.”

He forwarded his arm and pointed straight at them and the barrage of bullets began to rumble throughout the highway again. 

A sand wall emerged and, like water droplets to a sea, plopped, cushioned, onto that rising barricade. 

“Aren’t you being cocky? You lost your own bargaining chip against me…” 

A hunched-over round figure began to raise on that wave of sand. Silence’s drone hovered beside him.

“... Assuming that I would not take action afterwards.”

“Pleased to see you, Lin Gray.” Traditore courteously greeted him before he entered his getaway. “Is this how you repay me for letting her go?”

The sand crashed and flooded the highway, while the others were lucky enough to run, those unfortunate, the terror-stricken men, tried to drive off, tried to run away, tried to escape the clutching hands of the angered Rat King, but their fleeting hope became dimmer and dimmer the deeper they were in his sand. 

“I will be seeing you again, Doctor.” He waved farewell before his chariot drove away.

Lin Gray lowered himself from his sand pedestal and approached him. “Thank you for responding to my call. Clever of you to dispatch a drone to notify your whereabouts.”

“It’s fineee. No biggie.” The Doctor quacked out before he gripped his head. His strength was wavering with the constant usage of his Arts. “My… My apologies.”

“Is…” He asked Texas, “Is he alright?”

“Yes. However, he used his Arts one too many times. His Sanity is reaching tiers where he may or may not be… Incoherent? I apologise for whatever gibberish he may produce.” 

“It’s fineeee. I think we should celebrate our outstanding success in rescuing Lin Yuxia. I would lik-” He clutched onto his head. “Pain pain pain.”

“Doctor, we did not save her. That was not Traditore’s plan to begin with.”

“Right. I forgot to sweat over the small details.” He slapped himself with both of his hands, much to the bewilderment of the others, and straightened himself up. “We need to head back to the ra- *cough* I mean, Mr Lin Gray’s candy shop and discuss our next course of action.”

Lin Gray shot a puzzled look at Texas. “Has he always been like this? I do not recall that he was such an unsightly hooligan back in the Code of Brawl.”

She thwacked the Doctor at the back of his head, with enough strength to amplify his headache, but not enough to knock him out. “My apologies. He hasn’t consumed or administered any Emergency Sanity Potions as of now. We will fix him soon enough.”

“Ow.” The Doctor rubbed the back of his head, being melodramatic.

“I see. Well then, without further ado, let me bring you all to my candy shop. The highway is hardly a place for any discussion.”

With that, Lin Gray’s sand encapsulated them all and, like a wind, faded away from the highway.

Chapter Text

“Now, my dear.”

Father sat beside me and handed me the hilt I’ve become acquainted to. Long have I used it for my missions, and how it became an extension to my kit. However, to my younger self back then, when I was still a young’un, it was new, anything but a toy.

Often had I seen my father, from his prime in those turbulent periods up until now, practised this Art. This Art, a generational tradition, was sacred to him. Religiously would he practise. 

However, the life from those glory days dulled out and, like the sunset outside, another long night awaited us.

“Pay attention.”

He stood up, grunting a bit, as he came to attention. 

Before us was nothing. That empty space that filled the dojo.

His posture.

How he squared his shoulders as his blade drew higher. 

His eyes, keen and keened, focused all on a singular spot on the spot.

His breathing was controlled. 

Breathed in.

Kept in.

Breathed out.

Be still.

This repeated for a few cycles. 

I knelt there with my eyes jumping from one part of his slim body to the next, jotting down what was laid on display before me. 

Before me was a man who became more than my Father. Before me was a master swordsman. It was not the subtle nuances of his body that gave it away, like his corrected posture or his bladed stance.

It was the glint of his eyes, that razor sharp concentration peaking.

His composure. That tranquility, that reminiscence of Nirvana, even with a blade in his weapon. As if he exorcised his emotions, his mind presented only what he wanted to see. 

Twinkling behind him in that dim-lit dojo were specks of light. Like a spark, it glittered with a kind of beauty that allured anyone to come closer. It was beautiful, seeing the core of that speck elongate, centimetre by centimetre, then inch by inch. Before long, there floated a transient blade.

One by one, each outline of those ethereal swords began to string up behind him in formation. All the while did he maintain his glare, as if nothing existed beyond his consciousness besides him, the blade and his target.

It was a long time ago, but I felt something. Was I awestruck? Was I amazed?

Was I terrified?

I was committed. 

I was committed to learning the Family Arts.

He shut his right eye.

“Sword Rain.”

His blade gracefully dropped forward, and those projections hailed forth. Each stab left its mark after impact as it sizzled out of its existence. How they darted, briefly like a gust yet devastating like a tornado and yet pelting down like a rainstorm. There were too many to count.

His attention was drawn back to me and helped stand up to my feet. His hands, unlike the clutches of a fearsome godfather, was a warm gentle grasp of a father.

His patience was unbeknown to me. 

Each candle wick that dropped to the saucer, my trembling body, soaked in sweat, dropped with exhaustion teeming to my limits.

Each flicker of the candle flame revealed my resolve tested.

Each time that midnight oil was burnt, he encouraged me to stay true and stand proud.

Ever since that day, he never rained down insults and scoldings, but instead he showered me with praises and encouragement 

Who was this man? The Father I knew was never this kind.

Who was he to me even?

Father?

Mentor?

Patriarch?

Did it matter?

Those honorary titles meant nothing to me anymore. What good will it do?

Nothing will bring her back. Nothing.

My heart aches.

I remembered myself cowering from him, not by the blades but because I was burnt too much by his wrath. 

I remembered those olden times where I clung tight to my muse, this selfish sanctuary of mine, as he bellowed down on me.

I remembered how that smile, a smile so foreign, a smile so strange, a smile so tender and kind, felt out of place before me.

Never had been a day where I forgot how lonely I have become ever since that day.

That day.

That black day.

A day I could never forget. 

After that day, my heart was forevermore scarred and my empathy was wrung dry.

Even with the gentle brushing of the leaves and the birds singing, chirping, their tunes, even with the breeze down the mountains through the meadows, I could only see clouds.

I could only see those dark clouds in that clear blue sky.

How I hated that sky.

I spent days cursing at it.

I spent days throwing my tantrums at it.

I spent days deluding myself where I could rip it open to return to her embrace.

My heart died that day, and I was merely an animated corpse with a hole gaping where my heart was. 

Home was where the heart is, and for days that passed by me, I was locked up in my own prison.

Away from everyone.

Away from her.

Away. 

My crime was never loving her enough. Did she know how much I love her?

My sentence was knowing that.

I remembered Father calling me behind my bedroom doors, with his voice trembling bit by bit. His resolve, his fortitude, his tampered serenity, it kept him from losing himself. Persistent, he would selfishly come by everyday to see if I had come out of my room. Persistently would he call for me.

It gutted me.

Sickened me to the stomach.

It had my heart shattered.

When I thought the well went dry, I cried a bit more each time she crept into my sights, into my mind. I cried, hoping that it was all one terrible nightmare. I cried, hoping that Father one day would stop calling for me. 

Father.

His eyes were dried and red most of the time.

His voice shook every time he saw me.

No words were enough to describe my grief, my anguish. However, nothing, no idea or concept that the human mind could conceive, would be able to describe father’s turmoil. Even less so on how he was able to bottle it all up. 

I will never know what went through his head when he lost her too.

It must have been painful. No, painful does not even begin to describe what went through his head. 

I can’t bring myself to hate him anymore, or at least not as much.

His facade cracked bearing such a heavy burden on his shoulders, but he kept on marching through his life. He sealed off his sorrow away, like how he had casted our family tradition, but what good will it do since he could not cast it all the time?

Not that I will ever see such a shameful disgrace. He swore never to let me.

I believed, like me, he would seek for atonement, to make peace with it. 

Naive.

I was naive too.

I am still a fool.

If only I knew better from the start. 

I will never be as strong as him and I will keep working hard until I do.

I need to be stronger than who I was back then. 

I need to be like him.

Through everything, the processions, the meetings, the march through life, he had to stay strong. He had to.

He did not want me to see him crumbling, shattered, absolutely broken again, not after that time. 

It was terrible enough once. 

Never again. 

He swore to it. 

Through those tearful eyes, pearls streaming down, did he see me.

He never shed a single tear before, and he never had since.

He never felt something so raw, something very ugly. A feeling disorienting, numbing, downing him to the dumps.

Anger towards himself, a fire that scorched him.

Disdain towards himself, an acid that corroded him.

I felt those visceral feelings from him too from my younger days. It was his way of toughening me up, helping me blossom into such a lovely assassin, another puppet to his repertoire. Each day had me study to the ends, each night had me training to the wee hours.

Nowadays? His demands degenerated to one request. A request harder than was utmost ridiculous.

“Never leave me, dear.”

Throughout my entire life, you pushed me away from everyone. Why now, when we suffered a loss to great, do you realise that you needed me as much as I needed you back then?

What was I to you?

It was too late for him.

Was it? Was I running away from him?

Would she be happy if she saw us like this?

“I will be stronger.” 

Those words harked loud in my fragile mind, louder and louder as I dragged my body up to my feet and coughed out the incantations of the family tradition. His smile brightened up through the dojo each time I stood back up. Repeating over and over again, he nodded at me as I remained tenacious. 

What fuelled me? Was it self-hatred for failing to love her or being such a spoilt child? 

It happened too long ago, but I remembered how much anger fuelled me to keep pushing. My screams shrieking, my tears shedding, my body failing to listen to my commands. 

I swore for a new life.

I swore for a better life. 

Long after the first night did I manage to spawn a single core of light speck.

That was a promise by itself.

Even with the darkness in my heart, that gleaming light was enough for me.

I strengthened my resolve and faced those hours with fatigue.

Through him will I succeed in honing my Arts.

Through the family will I protect each and everyone of them.

Through my own will, will I be able to face myself again.

I swore by it to protect everyone.

Including Father.

Including her.

“I can’t face her.”

I hated how I looked in the mirror, at how much those eyes watched me with curiosity. Long hair that flowed down like the downstream by the meadows. Eyes like jewels that were as pretty as topaz. The earrings on my left ear.

It resembled too much of her. 

By that mirror did I see her smile. A smile that tore through those grey clouds from the Heavens above to grant her that warm Sun. How she loved it, with her soft dimples and those loose stray hair swaying at the mercy of the winds down at the meadows she loved to run through with me.

Was I smiling? 

It was too heavy to smile.

Why did she have to go? 

Someone, tell me the answer to these questions.

What was she worth? Was it a message? Was that why she had to die? Logic was out of the question, otherwise she would be alive, my hand in hers. 

These questions, like black tar, stuck onto me and I will never know when I can cleanse myself. 

It baffled me that she spoke so highly of Father. What was there to love about him? His stern gaze, now softened as much of a betrayal to his character? His ambitious drive? Where did that lead him?

I used to hate it. 

I refused to believe a single word back then. It was as if he was a different person to whomever it may concern. What was the point of playing charades then?

Yet, her smile convinced me otherwise, that Father was someone else than the person I knew all along. Anything from her and I will eat it up without question, but with Father, I had my quiet qualms.

What was the point of pushing for anything?

“I can’t face her.”

I can’t. 

It hurts too much. 

It hurts. 

I couldn’t bear to look at her casket lowering into the ground. How the Earth swallowed her up had me sick to the stomach. She returned to the meadows we used to play, farther beyond the dirt Lappland and I sparred from time to time, the luscious landscape that endeared our relationship. 

I couldn’t bear to look away. My last memento of her was that image printed in me. Her smile, that smile that brighten any day and dispelled any clouds, up until her death, in her coffin with flowers handpicked by me. I caught myself in the glass panel and my face insulted her smile. My flood of tears, my disgusting frown, my dishevelled unkempt hair, it was not like her figure. Nothing.

I remembered how I howled in despair with my hands clawing her coffin, calling out her name over and over again. Father had to hold me back, no matter the scratches, the cuts, the grazes, the slices my nails dug into his bony fingers. He fought back his tears as hard as he had fought against my tenacity, my determination, to steal one more look from her. Battling two fronts was soul-crushing for him, and I felt the stream of tears wet the back of my shirt. The underlings, our own soldiers, paid their due respects. The maids and gardeners, handkerchief in hand, patted their wet cheeks. The priest that prayed for her soul solemnly recited the psalms despite the woes.

How much I was willing to face Hell and back to retrieve her soul. 

“You have my eyes, dear.”

She whispered in my ear in the middle of those meadows. That scene, forever captured and tattooed into my mind, where the Sun was rising but the flowers bloomed to a brilliant rainbow, where the fresh dew spruced up and sparkled brighter than the starry nights, where that fragrant aroma, that herbal and floral scent that had butterflies and bee dance by their sweet petals, was duly smelt. She whispered in my ear with an embrace motherly and tender, an embrace that had me craving for more, an embrace where I wished never to let go ever again.

I don’t want to let you go.

“I love you, dear.”

I always returned those words back with “I love you too”, but only now did I learn how much I meant to her. 

Does she know how much she meant to me?

Mother. 

You did not need to die.

Why?

Why did you have to die?

Why you, of all people?

You were the best thing to ever happen in my life.

That rat of a man, that treacherous piece of shit who shot you, was tried, hung and quartered, but no ounce of his blood could resuscitate you. Nothing will. If only I was stronger and I followed Father’s regime, then maybe I would have saved you. If only I sold myself to the Devil will I protect you. You were the only angel on Earth.

I curse this life. Why me, of all people out there, to become the heir of the Texas family? Is there still a life beyond this prison of mine? Is there still hope that I can find solace for my weary soul? 

What was the point of this angst? What was the point, Captain? Tell me. These tears will not bring her back. Nothing will. The only way out is to move forward and become the underboss, and eventual Don. 

Honour her memory.

Honour her.

Keep her close to you. 

She never left you. She is in a better place now.

You’ll see her soon enough.

Become stronger.

Become a daughter worthy of her.

Become a daughter worthy of Father.

...

I miss you.

I miss you so badly.

===

Texas awakened back to reality with a knock on the door and someone beckoning beyond the door. That voice, as old as the trees in the meadows, coughed.

“Yes, Father?” Her groggy voice answered. She shook herself awake, trying her best to forget yet another of her nightmarish recollection of memories. It was always the same memories, just in a different sequence.

It was strange that he himself called her to the office. Often, he had an underling fetch her.

“My dear, I request that you follow me to my office.”

“Yes, Father.”

She shook off the drowsiness and prepared to accompany her father. 

Chapter Text

01 March 20XY

Her father sat behind his desk. His desk was an utter mess, with files and stray pieces of paper scattered across.

“Before you assume the position of the underboss of the Texas family, I entask you with an assignment as a prerequisite.”

Texas listened intently. 

“It is regarding the worrying absence of the current underboss, Schiavo. I need you to investigate the possibility that he is colluding with other families and whether he truly intends in staging a coup within the syndicate.”

“Understood. I believe that this covert operation is highly confidential. Will I be receiving support from my underlings or any other external parties?”

“Unfortunately no. Truly, it is my oversight that none of our men are trained in delicate situations, and no apt mercenaries are contactable. However, I will supply you information when due. I have confidence that you will not leave much of a trail behind.”

“Of course. If I may ask, please elaborate on Schiavo’s circumstances?”

“Sources have informed me of his unwarranted involvement with other operations outside our family. He has been exclusively dealing with patriarchs of other families too.”

He passed her a file branded RESTRICTED by the footnote. Opening it presented Texas a few black-and-white photos of him accompanied by other foreign superiors. 

“Ignoring our chain of command and the oath to the syndicate is blasphemous enough, but to abandon our family for his own selfish dealings?” He hunched over his desk, pensive of the development, with his weary face resting on his hand. “Where have I failed you…”

Texas closed the file and placed it on the desk. “Why would he want to defect?”

“I have hunches and tabs on his possible motives, to which all of them do not give me enough of an answer. With all due respect paid to the devil, I believe it is regarding his younger sister, but not that it may be true.”

“What of her?”

Her father inhaled deeply. Looking at Texas with a dull look, he exhaled. “When I took him in, he was already on death’s door. I had him patched up and learnt of his circumstances, I allowed him to swear to our family.”

Her father shook his head after a moment of pondering. “I knew better, however. His character is the type that his greed and lust for power will consume him. His betrayal to the family was inevitable, but I foresaw all this before letting him swear his oath.”

“Why then?” Texas raised her eyebrows, perplexed. “ Why let him take the oath?”

“Had it not been for me, both him and his younger sister would have died.”

Texas bowed her head and casted her gaze away from him. “My apologies for being out of line.”

“No need to apologise.” Her father sighed, “It was a hard call to make. I was hoping he would have a change of heart under my supervision. However, being embroiled with the harsh circumstances of being in a crime syndicate hardens a man’s heart, especially when it comes to your loved ones.”

“I see. I digress, Father. I assume that I must report to you once I unveil his plan?”

He nodded.

“Understood. I will not disappoint you.”

“Very well. He resides at Siracusa currently, so I have chartered a plane for you. Tomorrow you will fly off.”

Texas bowed with respect.

“I must warn you…” He coughed out, “...Unprecedented events are developing as we speak.”

“Such as?"

“It is regarding your friend. I have forgotten her name, but you took an interest in sparring with her once the opportunity rises. That pale young lady, the one whom you gave those two black hair clips.”

A side of Texas’s mouth rose as she smirked. She recalled how Lappland failed to tidy up that dishevelled look of hers. Even with those two hair clips, she remained an eye sore.

It fits her style, she assured herself.

“Lappland. What of her?”

“Her family has been slaughtered.”

Texas’s eyes widened. She felt her heart drop from her chest. 

“The official statement from the more esteemed patriarchs is that they have betrayed our way of life and have broken off the omerta. The price to pay was their lives forfeited. As a result, all of them were gunned down.” He scoffed at it, “Brutes.”

“Was Lappland killed?” She squared her eyebrows and squinted at him.

“Absurdly enough? She went missing.”

Texas relieved herself with a sigh. “Wonderful to hear.”

“Our insider, the coroner at the morgue, reported the body count after they have been retrieved from the burnt down bungalow. All bodies were recovered except for one. All the bodies accounted for were all male, none were female. Your friend was lucky enough to survive, but unlucky enough to have the entire syndicate on her tail.”

“I see. Why are you telling me this then?”

“I believe it is your right to know how your friend is doing.”

“I… I suppose so.” Texas nodded with a weak, yet wistful, smile. She was dumbfounded by how cold her question sounded.

“Beyond that, it has been reported that some patriarchs have been slaughtered off recently. Many witnesses reported her to be hacking and slashing into the many bodies she had mutilated. She has been quite busy, recently.”

Texas remained silent and wondered how she’d handle a bombshell of news. 

Even if it was not spelt out, she knew better than to take the assignment at face value. Even if not commanded, she knew her secondary objective was to seek out for Lappland and stop this genocidal spree.

She breathed in.

She breathed out.

Never had she felt motivated to protect someone.

Not in a long time.

She had forgotten this feeling.

“That’s a tender look on you, dear.”

Her sights returned to her father, smiling so sweetly.

“My apologies.”

“Nothing to apologise for.” A faint smile emerged from him. A smile fading, as if he lost the strength to express his happiness. “You’ve grown so much, dear.”

Texas, with downcast eyes and a solemn look written on her face, could care less in answering to her father.

“Entertain my question. You have sparred with her with those bizarre swords of hers, correct?”

“Yes, father.”

“Share with me the details.”

She hesitated. “She told me it was a trade secret within her family, so I wish to respect her trust.”

He curled his lips and puffed out a smile, “If that was the case, she would have not spar with you by the meadows. I was spectating it from my office’s balcony.”

She returned a blank look. Careless of us, she thought.

She let out a sigh, “... It was a gift from her own Patriarch. The intricate design allowed her to harness her Originium infection, thus boosting her Arts to…”

Her eyes trailed off as it saw the moment that blade flashing with a fiery grey.

She could still hear that wind chime.

“... Well, to unfathomable levels.”

He nodded. “No wonder her family was slaughtered.”

Texas’s ears flickered. “What do you mean?”

“Throughout the entire inclusion programme, where we have hosted her here, I was in contact with her patriarch and knew of his circumstances. Those swords are the key to this civil war, and to the unrest we are facing right now within our organisation.”

“Why so?”

“Harvesting your own infection for unlimited power. That does not come around easy in our region. I wouldn’t say for sure how Lungmen had their hands to such material, let alone her Godfather, but anyone with it could theoretically rule the entire organisation.”

“Then why does she have it then?"

“Not that I would know of.” He coughed rigorously, as if he was about to cough out his lungs. “Easily, it was the smartest yet dumbest decision he had chosen, to pocket away the instruments of war away from Siracusa.”

Texas shook her head, dismayed by the development. “Does that mean if the wind catches our involvement…”

He nodded his head. 

Her glare became sharper.

“How has your training been so far? Have you mastered our family tradition yet?”

“I have not. I am only able to spawn only one crystalised sword.”

“I see.” He nodded in assurance, “It is understandable, considering your other commitments. I am much more pleased to hear that you have managed to crystallise at least one sword. In due time, I will bask in the sight of you executing Sword Rain.”

“Thank you, Father.” 

“Maybe, one day I get to see you surpass me and evolve my Sword Rain.” He chuckled heartily before his chuckle got interrupted by his phlegm-riddled cough.

“Thank you.” She replied, with her words as cold as the heart she locked. 

Ding dong. Ding dong.

Her father looked at the chiming wall clock. “Ah, it’s that time again.”

He rose from his lush seat and, in a frail shamble, drew his walking cane from the side of his table. “Would you care to join me? It has been awhile since you have paid respects to your mother.”

Texas’s frozen expression snapped to a much more pained, tender yet vexed, expression. “I need to turn your offer down. I have to prepare myself for the assignment.”

“I refute your request to decline.”

Her eyes met his. His eyes, hosting a fatherly warmth yet a sharp determination, latched on hers.

“I insist."

Her shoulders squared up. “Father, with all due respect, we have pressing matters at hand. I have no time to…” 

Her sentence trailed off.

If she had finished it, that dagger in their hearts would twist even more.

Its implications were already a gut punch.

His father limbered to her. “I understand the severity, but I no longer can tolerate seeing you disregarding your responsibilities.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice spoke, tinged with a glimmering annoyance in her tone.

“When was the last time you have prayed to your mother?”

Her tongue was tied.

She tasted something real bitter in that question..

As much as her memory raced, it failed to remember a single instance where she prayed to her.

Or maybe, it did not fail.

She did.

“Not that I mean to distance myself away from mother, but what’s more important is how we have to carry ourselves on, especially with a war by the horizon.”

“How you have dissuaded yourself from what truly matters to you.” His eyes were saddened, as if life had forsaken within his irises, “Are you using this as an excuse to run away again?”

“Run away? I’m not running away from anything.”

“Then what about your responsibilities as a daughter? Do you feel like you have accomplished that? These years were tough, but have you not tried to find inner peace?” He snapped as fast as she did.

“Responsibilities of a daughter? What else could I do now? She already died. How else can I honour her memory?”

His father raised his walking cane at her. “Have you forgotten that you are my daughter and I am your father?”

Texas gritted her teeth by the apprehensive situation befalling upon her.

“I do not fault you for honouring your mother, but I must ask: When was the last time you have prayed to her? When was the last time you faced her? Where was the daughter she loved and cherished now?”

Texas’s face soured up. She had no retort or defence.

His right hand had her by her left shoulder, with the walking cane by his left hand. “I do not mean to discomfort you, but you need to remember that I am still here and I still love you. I want you to become more than my caporegime or my underling.” 

Her heart was swollen with frustration. She felt it cracking. That nauseating numbness had her body frozen. He knew that much: her tensed shoulders gave it away.

“I know it was hard for you to lose her. It was my fault for not treasuring you.”

She shut her eyes as she fought off that feeling to cry.

“Now, it is different. I am here for you, and I love you.”

She bit her lower lip, stubborn.

“I need you to let her go. I need you to let go of that hatred in your heart.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t let go. Not after what happened. I’m not strong enough to face her.”

His hand left her shoulder.

She opened her eyes and saw his hand offered.

“Your Mother loved you for you. It was not your strength nor your naivety that had her love you. It was you being born. It was you being you.”

Her anger simmered down.

She bit her tongue to stop herself from tearing up as she strided to the balcony.

His hand was left hanging.

Without further ado, he followed her to the balcony.
===
From the balcony, that familiar heartwarming sight of those meadows and mountains. That trimmed grassfield that danced and brushed against one another under the mercy of those gentle winds greeted them. Teeming with life with that bittersweet smell of cut grass and that sparkling morning dew from the greenery, it was a sight to behold. How many times had her Father admire that? How many times had he sat there and watched that still life? She had no clue, but she had to admit that she was a bit jealous. 

Even for a moment, perched on that balcony from a grand height had her reliving some memories. Memories of them dancing together and how those days seemed evergreen. Memories of them laughing together, what good it had done to her in busting a side. Memories of her and Lappland fighting too, she remembered that. How could she? 

By the end of the balcony by the side stood an altar in an ordinary fashion. There stood a modest bouquet of marigolds, two candles lit and an aged picture frame of her mother. 

Her flowing hair. 

Her motherly smile.

Her eyes.

Texas had to look away. Seeing her had her heartstrings tugged. 

Her father patted her on the back and shared that silent moment with her before approaching the altar. 

He knelt down slowly and gazed at her picture.

He patted on the spot next to him.

Texas obliged, but the pain had her facing away.

“My dear daughter...”

His voice tried to reach out to her, but he knew that nothing would convince her to face the altar in due earnesty.

Not that he had a qualm. Having her beside him was enough for him.

He prayed for this day to come soon enough.

He kept his hands together and bowed.

“In your holy name, please hear my prayers to communicate to my dear wife. Let her my words, wherever she rests in the Heavens above, for I bear great news.”

Texas closed her eyes out of respect.

She could not believe she was doing this. Never had she imagined herself doing this.

“My dear, we meet yet again in prayer.” His murmuring, full of love, was as if his heart was open, “I present to you our dear daughter who has joined us in prayer for today. I know you have seen her grow up throughout all these years, but I’m delighted to have her here.”

Texas remained silent. 

His voice, that gentle merciful tone, a tone unbeknownst of her, was as if he was reliving the golden days. No, it was as if he was truly hosting a genuine conversation with her once again, as if she was still here, still around.

That serene tranquility he had invested into himself. It was eerie for her. She had never observed peace this still before, like a pond undisturbed where no ripples rip through that fragile glass of a reflection, or a baby who slept soundly through the night not to disturb their parents. A volume so low, a tone so soft, a pitch so controlled.

“We have been blessed to finally rejoin as a family together once more.”

Texas soured up hearing that. 

“It wrenches our heart seeing her caught in such a plentiful of trouble as she burdens herself with all these tasks without sharing any of her feelings to me. It pains me dearly, but having her here now gladdens me. I am proud to be her father as much as I love her. If only she had confided her troubles with me, but the day will come.”

Daughter.

That word hung in the darkness of her mind.

Never had she once stopped herself in her tracks and asked herself of her father’s state.

Had she ever considered a break? No.

She knew that answer too well.

Now seeing him oldened, it had this bittersweet taste to it, as much as she hated to admit it.

That sweetness, because it was in due time that she will succeed his position and become the Don of the Texas family. She will have enough proof, enough validation, to assure herself of her strength and tenacity, her capabilities and leadership.

That sweetness, because he will be gone in due time.

That bitterness? 

Because he will be gone in due time.

How the years flew by.

He was right? Who was he to her? What was she to him?

Has she passed in becoming the heir of the Texas family? 

Can she prove that passed in becoming the daughter of the Don?

Who was he to her? 

“She will come to terms with your death with my support, and that she will once again smile as bright as she had when you were around. I ask of the Heavens above to deliver this message to my wife.”

As he opened his eyes, he saw Texas spotting a miserable look across her face. A look he was all too familiar with.

“Are you okay, dear?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Texas stood up and shuffled back into his office. She snatched the file befor-

“Before you go, dear, I want you to have this.”

A golden necklace with a pendant rested in his hand.

Texas opened the pendant,

There within the pendant held a picture with its toner fading away.

A picture of her mother and father.

With her in their embrace.

“...Where did you get this?”

“You know how keen your mother’s clairvoyance was, as unsettling as it was. She instructed me to gift you this once you ‘have faced her after the turmoil’.”

Texas looked at her mother again.

Her fingers gripped the pendant.

She returned it to him.

She turned around and walked away, much to his father’s shock.

“Texas?” He beckoned to her.

Her feet felt that soft velvet rug brushing against her soles.

“Texas.” His voice was laced with desperation.

The air felt stuffy to her, but she breathed it all in.

“Texas, answer me!” His cry boomed in the room.

She stopped by the doorframe.

“But why? Why refuse this? This was your Mother’s parting memento, dedicated to you. Why reject her?”

She hung her head.

Her fingers were digging into the wooden doorframe.

Tears began to cascade down.

“It’s not my time to accept it.”

With that, she vanished into the hallways. Her father was speechless.

That golden pendant shone brighter with that early morning sunrise.

===

Click.

Her bedroom door was locked.

She slid down her door and curled up, tugging her head in.

She winced at the pain tearing her.

She whimpered at the angst choking her.

She hated this.

She hated this.

She hated this so much.

That was the only thing running through her head.

‘Worthless.’

She curled up even tighter.

‘Useless.’

Her fingernails dug into her forearms.

‘Undeserving of the heir.’

It was futile.

Her tears shattered into tiny droplets as it crashed onto the floor.

That morning had never been so dark for her.

That day was black to her.

If only she could see the light.

If only she could see the light that would save her.

Where was that hand that would save her, that hand she wished for?

It was right there.

Her father’s.

And what did she do?

Chapter Text

One. Two.

“You’ll be dead soon too.”

Three. Four.

“C’mon. You started this war.”

Five. Six.

“You writhing under me gives me the kicks.”

Seven. Eight.

“You will understand my hate.”

Nine.

Ten.

“Time to say goodbye then.” 

What a wonderful lullaby. It helps me sleep better from this nightmare.

Aye, if only that song went longer to match the number of patriarchs I’ve killed. 

They deserved it.

They all deserved death. It was fair. I mean, it follows a very logical tandem: they have destroyed my entire life, so I’m now justified to destroy theirs. I am rightfully certified to exact vengeance upon my enemies, not just for me, but for my fallen brothers. 

Not just for me, but for Dad.

Traitors.

Rats.

All of them.

Fucking rats.

Since when has this world degraded itself into this cesspool of a dogged dog-eat-dog world? Since when has morals and values been so easy to cash in for a quick buck or for a seat? What are rules anymore? It is beyond sacrilege for hunting down another family.

What ever happened to honour and respect nowadays? Is it just an accessory everyone hangs on their keychains? 

Oh, how my blood boils thinking about it. I might bust a vein and it won’t be someone else’s if I keep thinking about it. 

Oh, how their blood sings to me when I hack into them.

Each gushing litre of blood spilt on the floor empowered me.

Each shrieking decibel in their tearing voices as they screamed for help fortified my resolve.

Each decimated body that stopped squirming under my blade recharged my will.

It’s not enough.

I need more power.

It’s not enough to justify their deaths.

It will never be enough, as long as my enemies stand before me, singing their jolly hymns and merry cheers. I will wipe their smiles off their faces and teach them the true meaning of fear. That revolting dread that wakes them up in the morning and regrets being alive. That repulsive idea that their own brothers’ deaths will forever stain their palms, down to the deepest layer of skin, and they will stop at nothing to cleanse themselves of that guilt. That downright abhorrent memory that will haunt your dreams whenever you see them, about how you wish you can see them peaceful in your dreams only for their faces to be riddled with bullets and ghastly blasted with blood and pus.

I will teach them what I’ve faced all this while. Nothing will appease my soul until every last one of them understands this lesson and takes this to heart. Only then will I be satisfied enough to kill them off.

I miss them.

I miss you.

Dad.

What have you done to have them kill you like this?

What was it exactly?

Which one of our trade secrets was the bait that hooked you right to their line of fire? Were it my swords? Was it our pilfering of goods from other families? Was it the random hits we always do?

Tell me. 

I’m waiting for an answer.

I have always been waiting for one.

Why wouldn’t you answer me? 

Am I not strong enough?

I’m murdering all the patriarchs for you, Dad. I’m getting stronger with every scutcheon I take, with every soul I snuffed out.

I will vanquish all my foes for you. I will smite them in your most holiest power. I will send them unto their due judgment, their due comeuppance. I shall be worthy of my name and I shall bear the pride of our family.

Father!

I beseech you!

Guide me on my path in the name of revenge and hatred.

Help me unleash more power! I must! I simply must!

Until then, please keep watching me from those pearly gates above. I will march on in your name for our dream, the dream in becoming the most notorious family of them all. Only when I have fulfilled my purpose, only then will I return to your embrace, those open arms all so empty.

There better be a grand fiesta hosted for me when I come back, like how you celebrate my birthdays.

Castellano, you better fucking cook my pasta how I wanted it. You know how I love my pasta.

I miss you guys.

Shit. I got something in my eye.

It’s nothing.

It’s fine.

It’s nothing.

First thing’s first? I need to hunt Texas’s underboss. It annoys me that I can’t get a single tab on him. Does anyone know how irritating it is to keep chasing all these red herrings? When I bludgeoned the details out of the patriarchs, next thing you know it? Another goose chase. All the hideouts, the institutions, the strongholds I’ve barged i- I mean, politely entered, and they all greeted me with bullets and blades. What’s wrong with them? Whatever happened to hospitality nowadays? You can’t fault me for bashing their heads in or slitting their throats, and that is only when I’m in a good mood.

Worst part was no one was willing enough to confess any details to me. His whereabouts, his recent activities, his allies, literally nothing. All I got from them were their gargling screams and their pitiful cries.

As if I’ll spare your pathetic lives after you beg for your lives. They might as well do something good for once and help me track him down.

Still, the only piece of good news I’ve heard is that he’s shaking hands with the head honcho of the whole syndicate. That’s spectacular news far and wide. All I need to do is to kill my way to the top then.

How in the absolute hell did he get friends up there?

Beats me. Doesn’t matter, though. I’ll find out soon enough when I have his throat in my hands.

They should have considered that before slaughtering my family.

Oh well.

At least I have their scutcheons as honourable badges I can wear.

I should clean the blood off them. It’s scaring the locals.

Would it matter? It’s only going to get bloody again.

It disturbs me though.

What is this ‘Reunion’ faction they were spewing about? They were talking about it as if they were the next messiah about to bring unto them salvation. Unification? What for? Why join this ‘Reunion’ faction? How bad can they be? Aren’t we already bonded as one crime syndicate? 

Apparently not. 

Apparently, this ‘Reunion’ organisation is much more notable than the entire Siracusan mafia, to which I find that hard to believe. However, for Reunion to unite literally any race imaginable, from the arrogant Sarkaz to the fanatical Lateranos, it does spell something.

If Texas’s underboss was gunning for that for a position of power, I won’t be at all surprised.

In fact, it gets me riled up that I’m hunting someone this big.

How much they yapped on and on about it and about how they will exact their own vengeance upon me post-mortem bore me to tears. “Talulah will save us and you will pay with your blood”. 

It sure busted my sides hearing a joke.

They should have tried harder to fight me off and fend for themselves instead of seeking their solace in some false prophet.

When was the last time I laughed?

Not with assholes I was about to kill off in the next few minutes.

When was the last time I shared a laugh with someone dear to me?

It has been weeks. It felt like years. 

This laughter I had was contagious. It plagued me with insanity. What was I laughing at? 

The last time I laughed was not with Dad, nor with the boys. I can’t count that time where I laughed and laughed as the house burnt down.

The last time I laughed was with Texas.

Her.

I trusted her.

To play with me while she bid her time to plot this nefarious scheme. 

To lure me into her trap while she herself hunted my family down like livestock.

To have me dancing by her pinky.

For what? 

I trusted her. 

She was my friend.

She is still my friend.

How is she still my friend after all this? 

How can I even see her as my friend?

I hate her. 

I hate her so fucking much.

Why then do I see myself in her?

Why? It pisses me off.

That tampered savagery she tried her best to hold back. That reserved way of life that was about to be unhinged. That single minded concentration when drawing her blade.

Why, Texas?

You will cough out your answers before me.

You will confess your sin to me.

You will pay for this. 

…

Man, I’m tired. It’s been a long day.

It’s been a long night for me. When will I ever see the light from this desolated country? When will I find peace in this world? When will I eve-

Fuck.

Wait.

Why am I on my knees?

I must be exhausted. Today has been especially tiring, having to wrestle so many brutes.

...

Why is my face wet?

Wait, why are there tears on my fac-

Why am I crying?

This is a joke. It has to be, right?

Why?

What’s the point?

There’s no point to this. Why am I crying?

Why? Why am I fucking cryi-

GOD DAMN IT.

FUCK.

WHY?

WHY DOES MY HEART HURT?

I’VE NEVER FELT THIS MUCH PAIN BEFORE. ALL THE TIMES I’VE BEEN STABBED, SLASHED, SMACKED, CUT, BRUISED, BLED, STRICKEN, I WAS LAUGHING THROUGH IT ALL. THEY NEVER HURT. THEY NEVER STUNG. THEY NEVER FELT LIKE AS IF I WAS ABOUT TO DIE.

THEN WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I’M DEAD INSIDE?

WHY ME?

WHY MY FAMILY?

FUCK MY FAMILY.

THEY WERE WEAK.

I’LL SAVE THEM ALL.

I’LL SAVE THEM ALL FOR YOU, DAD.

I’LL SAVE YOU ALL FROM SUFFERING THIS CRUEL FATE CALLED DEATH.

I’ll save you all…

I’ll be the one with power…

I’ll be the saviour to the lost, the lame and the weak.

I swore on it, with every cell in me, with every inch of flesh and piece of bone that still works.

They will all face the bloody wrath of my power.

They will all face the lone wolf who has nothing else to lose.

They will all face the horror my father and my kin has met at his final moments.

They all face me.

Lappland.

The most powerful of them all.

“Next up? Texas’s family”

Now. 

I need to stand up.

I need to get moving. It’s getting cold.

C’mon, my lovely sexy legs, listen to me.

Listen. 

Get up.

I have no time to waste.

I have…

*hic*

I have no time…

I have no more time to lose…

Fucking…

DAMN IT ALL.

Damn it all…

Damn it…

Why do you have to die?

Why didn’t I die with you?

Why do you have to die?

===

Lappland, as if she wanted to tear her vocal cords by her voice alone, roared throughout those alleyways she was too familiar with. She tasted the rusty iron taste of blood staining her tongue as she coughed it out. 

Those alleyways, the streets, the neighbourhoods, were filled with that sombre wistful howling of a lady who had lost everything. The sobering howling, that poignant yet pungent reminiscence of the better days, wailed on to her broken heart’s content. She hated this feeling, this feeling of feeling vulnerable and utterly unwound. 

How long did she cry? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time was of the essence and she forgot how it felt when it passed by her. She loved this nightmare she awakened to but nothing had her prepared for it. Nothing had prepared her for the scars on her body and how ugly it was to her. How it was like the Originium shards protruding from her thighs, she wanted it to be cleansed of her skin.

She wanted to be as pure white as the snow that was pitter-pattering on her skin.

But even the snow was lightening.

Spring was around the corner and the thought without them around had her utterly depressed.

She laid on that stone cold floor once more and stared at the sky.

She could see him.

Her palm faced towards the sky as she tried to reach him.

She clenched her fist.

“Prepare to pay, Texas.”

She banged the floor.

“Your family is next.”

Chapter Text

Texas snatched a Pocky stick from its box and took a deep breath. After the confrontation back on the highway, she needed the downtime, and, for sure, she was revelling every second of it. Even with that coddling warmth of the Sun beaming down on her, she had no qualms or complaints about it. An iced lemon tea, a few boxes of Pocky, that peaceful occasional breeze brushing by her, who could say no?

Her glances caught sight of the food vendors nearby Lin Gray’s candy shop and that slow shuffling of locals conversing in their native tongue. She watched them come and go.

She wondered how the rest of them were upstairs, getting tended to by Silence and Lin Yu Xia. 

She needed some alone time away from a crowd. The curb outside the shop did just fine for her.

Not that she was on the lookout, but who could blame her for being on high alert? 

She needed that break badly. 

She munched on her Pocky stick, as fast as a rat could nibble down a cube of cheese, and drew another.

That addicting sensation of having chocolate rolling down her tongue and breaking the stick off to bits calmed her senses.

Lucky enough, she could buy more from Lin Gray.

That nostalgic smell emitting behind her from Lin Gray's candy shop, that kind of stale musty smell from its age enriched with a subtly sweet fragrance, was comforting to her. It reminded her of the old days, when her mother had her accompany her to the markets nearby that were lively and thriving. 

Why did she remember…

She munched down another Pocky.

Not that she was surprised. Seeing Schiavo opened some old scars. 

Why did he change his name to Traditore? 

She sighed. She couldn't care less.

"Yo."

The Doctor called for her by the entrance to the candy shop. "Everything alright, Texas?"

She nodded back. "Yes. Thank you for asking. Have you consumed an Emergency Sanity potion?"

The Doctor felt giddy by the question, “Yep, yep. I apologised to Lin Gray for what happened earlier, no worries. However, that was the last Emergency Sanity potion. The other vials were either shattered or blown up with our car back on the highway.”

She shook her head. "Unfortunate."

“If only I had more. C’est la vie.”

He opened an umbrella and approached her, offering some shade from the heat. “Are you feeling alright?”

"Yes."

“Are you? You’ve been sitting here for hours now. Any longer than that and you’d get yourself some sun burns or, worse, heat stroke.”

She was entertained by that childish consideration, but appreciated the thought nonetheless. She nodded and looked at him earnestly, "I'm fine." 

Her tone was flat.

As if it was out of the sake of a response. 

The Doctor took it upon himself to sit next to her. An affirming yet reserved demeanour was what she’d radiate out of her, but the Doctor only felt chills from her.

Slumped shoulders.

Downcast eyes.

That lush of life within her irises absent.

Legs drawn close to her body.

He knew on the spot that something was troubling.

His hand was approaching her to give her a pat on the back for some form of consolation or assurance, but stopped midway.

He dismissed the idea and withdrew his hand.

“You’re really fine?”

The cold shoulder had him answered.

It was a first for him to see her like this. It pained him.

A box of Peppero popped up in front of her and Doctor shook on it. “Figured you need a pick-me-up, but his shop doesn’t sell any Pocky sticks. Sorry about that, I should have packed more before the trip.”

She hesitated. She wanted to accept it, but...

He shook the box, offering it yet again. "If you don't want the Choco Cookie flavour, I got Tiramisu and Almond."

She kept on staring with that blank expression, at least as amused as she was distant. "... why do you have so many flavours with you?"

“After my discussion with Lin Gray (and unfortunately after a harsh scolding from Kal’tsit), I noticed you were sitting here and I wanted to cheer you up.”

Texas watched his earnest expression. It had her letting out a soft laughter. "Your kindness knows no bounds, Doctor."

Doctor smiled back. "You're welcome any time, Texas."

Texas accepted the Choco Cookie flavour and cracked it open. It was funny to her, seeing this stick coated with so many rough nuts and crumbled bits of cookie. “Are gifts the only way you know how to cheer anyone up?”

She offered him a stick.

"To you?"

He accepted.

An amicable smile replied.

"Always."

Texas's tender smile came to her face. 

They munched away on their Peppero sticks. 

“Anything interesting happening while I was planning?”

“Nothing much, if you don’t count Bison screaming at the top of his lungs as Lin Yu Xia massaged his bruises and dressed his wounds.”

“I wish I was there to record it.”

“You can ask Exia then. She passed me the video file.”

“You have to share it with me.”

“Once we hit the road.”

“Sounds good.”

They munched on another stick. 

“So…”

“So.”

“So…”

“Doctor, how many times are we doing this running gag?”

“Fineee, I’ll stop it here.”

“I believe you won’t.”

“You know me well enough.” Doctor tee-hee.

"What did you discuss with Rat King and Kal'tsit?"

“Firstly, Kal’tsit.”

His shoulders dropped as fast as his vigour as soon as her name graced his lips.

“She scalded my ear off with too many caustic remarks for me to remember. I can only remember the main point that she was utterly disappointed that I engaged with Reunion combatants even though the nature of this operation is for reconnaissance.”

His face drooped. 

“I have never heard her be this mad before. How can a single woman be so gungho and destructive with my mental welfare? It’s beyond me.”

His shoulders shuddered.

“What’s worse is that it’s not the end of this lecture. Once we return to Rhodes Island, she will, and as I quote, “personally teach me a lesson on irresponsibly going against her orders.”

"Considering how many times you both fought and argued head-on, I’d take it as a lovers’ quarrel."

He was beyond disgusted, as if repulsed by the sheer idea of being shipped with her. Fear did not creep into him, but imploded by the mere idea of it. “Lovers? I’d be surprised if we can even call each other friends.”

“Then why did you both sob on each other’s shoulders during the autumn festival after a few bottles?” Texas teased him.

He coughed violently, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Texas let out a smug smile, albeit weak and insincere. She wanted to be smug, but the weight on her heart stopped her.

“... Fine, I guess I see her as a friend and she worries about us like a motherly figure, but man, we need space.”

“Fair enough.”

He crunched on another stick, “At least get a three days vacation. I should soak it all in on…”

He looked around for an excuse, a valid reason, to enjoy Lungmen, but he watched the afternoon crowd shuffling to and fro for their groceries.

Texas raised an eyebrow.

His head dropped again. "This vacation sucks already." Doctor sighed. 

She smirked, "I'll give you my support in trying to enjoy our getaway."

"Appreciated.”

She nodded. "What about Lin Gray and any possible courses of action?"

“Firstly, the foundation of the plan. It is beyond skepticism to claim that the candy shop may be a target after his intervention against Traditore’s ambush. Thus, I assign those who sustain injuries and those who need to tend to them to the candy shop. They will hold the fort and protect the integrity of the shop while we head out to do our own reconnaissance and intel gathering.”

“Good plan.”

“Lappland, you and I will do our preliminary perimeter checks and comb through the black market for any leads.”

"Wait." 

"Yes?"

"What do you mean by Lappland?"

“Yo, Doctor!” Lappland trudged right in and knelt, butting in between them. "Thanks for drafting me into the tango."

The life flushed on Texas’s face dissipated. “... Do I have a say in this?”

“C’mon, Texas!” Lappland wrapped her arm around Texas’s neck, buddying up and bubbling with her, “Our road trip to this shabby district just picked up its slack and became a lot more interesting. The golden opportunity, granted by the Heavens above, to annihilate our arch-nemesis has presented itself. We can finally eviscerate that scumbag that had both of ou-”

Texas slammed her hand on her mouth, sealing her shut. 

“Mmm mm mm mm mmm mm mm!” Lappland still attempted to talk, but it was utterly muffled. At best, gibberish to everyone. 

“Now is not the time, Lappland. The past stays in the past.”

Lappland ripped open the hand gag off her, “How could you say that, now that the past has caught up and presented its bare belly before us? Now is the right time to gut him clean.”

“May I intrude and ask why the hostility towards him?” The Doctor inquired, only to be answered with a troubled look on both their faces.

“I get your point, Texas. He can’t know what happened between us."

“... Nothing relevant is needed to be brought up, Doctor. Don’t worry.”

“I believe it is relevant here, especially with both of your trauma manifesting themselves. It is my responsibility to at least help assess and recover from this.”

They both hardened up. 

“I’m sorry, Doc.” Lappland, with a soft and hurtful tone, riposted, “It’s best if you don’t get involved within our pasts…”

She gripped on her swords’ hilts. 

“... You’d lose yourself in it if you understand, let alone experience it.”

Texas flicked her fingers on Lappland’s head, “Being cryptic won’t serve anyone good if you yourself aren’t being coherent. What she meant to say is that it’s best not to get involved with our problems as of now. We will handle it in our own accord, so don’t worry.”

“I am worried, so don’t treat me as if I’m indifferent to it all.”

The two Lupos watched the Doctor getting a bit riled up by the mere thought of being shut out of the conversation.

“I may have the Eyes of Priestess which grants me the title of Tactical Commander, but that does not assure a landslide victory. Human error will always interfere, and I don’t want to see the next operation costing me an operator.” 

He flung his sights to the general direction of the highway.

“Had it not been for Eyes of Priestess, we would have been captured by him, and God knows what he’d do. Even with that, I witnessed Lappland getting choked out by Texas, only for Texas to isolate herself.”

Even for a Tactical Commander, he wore his heart on his sleeves with his emotions aired out to anyone paying to watch. His aggressive tone came from a place of frustrative worry, like a child who wants to stop their parents from fighting or a man who is tired of the hands dealt by life.

Lappland wrapped his neck with her other free arm, “Take it easy, Master. Be any more angry and you’ll be no different from me.”

She howled in laughter before curling that demented smile of hers.

Texas, on the other hand, withdrew herself from the conversation. 

Lappland’s smile faded off seeing her.

She leaned her head on hers. As much as Texas hated the idea of coming close to Lappland, let alone share physical contact with her, she did not resist.

“I’m sorry, Doctor.” Lappland reached out to him, but not in that frantically abrupt tone, instead in a strangely soothing tone. “On behalf of Texas, it’s a tricky subject. We can’t simply share with anyone our history together, because we do not want to rip open the scars in our hearts any wider than it needs to, right, Texas?”

Texas nodded a bit. 

“As much as we appreciated your kindness and your genuine motivation to lighten our burden, we are too proud to let others carry it. It is as suffocating as it is stabilising, in its wickedly weird sense.”

“One day…” Texas muttered.

“Some day, you’ll find out the truth…”

She patted Texas on the shoulders.

“... But not from me.”

The Doctor had to accept it. It was not the first time she told him this exact statement. 

He took it in and sat by the curb, now with the umbrella withdrawn and sheathed into its cover.

“... Doctor.” 

His attention shifted to Texas. “Yes?”

“If, let’s say, your memories do return and you have learnt that you have committed heinous crimes to others, how would you handle it?”

Lappland looked away from Texas. That softened look on her face, it was as if she was sober from the bloodlust in her life and reminisced about something tender.

Texas peered deep into the Doctor’s eyes, hoping that there is an answer, a sound answer, a solid answer, that will sate her curiosity. Deep in her heart, she knew it was a wish, but it did not hurt to try.

The Doctor drew another Peppero stick and bided his time biting it inch by inch, centimetre by centimetre. 

“... I can sense a wistful regret lingering within you, Texas.”

Texas kept her distance away from him.

“If comes the time where I am the villain of my story, I must repent and carry my burdens to right my wrong. It’s important to not let regrets consume you, but it’s also important to keep it close to you because it built your character.”

Lappland’s eyebrows were pulled closer together, her eyelids squinted. 

“I know it’s wishful thinking from me, but I can’t let it shackle me down. I have others depending on me, who rely and look up to me. They know my record much better than I do, and yet they want to give me a chance to become better.”

Doctor scoffed at whatever he said.

“Whether it is out of pity or mercy, I will never know.”

He looked straight into Texas.

“If your history involves you executing ‘unsavoury’ actions, you have to bear with it and move on with it. You have everyone around you and that’s what matters the most. Forgive yourself because no one else holds you accountable for your sins, only you do.”

He shook his head. 

“I’m sure I didn’t answer your question the way you hoped I did, but I answered it in my own way.”

Texas closed her eyes.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

She opened her eyes.

“As expected of you, Doctor.” 

She offered him another stick, to which he politely declined.

“Your answer is not bad, I must admit.” Texas bit on another stick, “I’ll hold you onto your beliefs then.”

“Of course.”

“What’s the plan now?”

“Perimeter checks around Lin Gray’s candy shop to ensure that no Reunion combatants are present within a 1km radius. Sora and Lin Gray will liaise with me on hourly sitreps whilst overseeing everyone else’s recovery. Once done, we head straight to the black market for information gathering.”

“The black market? Traditore has a monopoly over it. Delving deep into the lion’s den would be deemed idiotic, if not suicidal.”

“Correct, and that shall be where they will least expect us. A methodological tactician would not prioritise defence in his own backyard if he has the home advantage over his adversaries. We are outnumbered and theoretically outmatched, which is why he does not see us as a threat. I’m willing to bet that he delegated his forces throughout the slums especially at the highway toll gates in between the slums and the main city.”

“What about the borders then?”

“I’ll take his word that he does have tangos stationed there. Our hands are tied. Escape isn’t an option, because otherwise we will be exposing Lin Gray and Yu Xia.”

“Fair point.”

“On the chance that we do get caught and captured, Sora will be able to figure that out if I don’t report to her every hour and she will then get in touch with Kal’tsit for reinforcements if needed. If not, your colleagues should suffice.”

“Still a gamble.”

“It is, but at least we know what’s in Traditore’s hands.”

“What about Lin Gray? One would assume that he would have gathered information.”

“He only shared with me that his forces were mobilised here for weeks now and, as per usual, Wei Yan Wu pays little attention to having Reunion presence in his backyard.”

“Talk about politics. Beyond that?”

“Beyond that, nothing much. He was swept off his feet when his granddaughter was captured by a man with no Arts.”

“I can testify to that. Even when he was my underboss, he had no arts to take pride in. However, he was as cunning and deceptive as they come.”

“Chances of him playing dirty?”

“Very high.”

“Should have seen this coming.” He patted her on the back. “Guess we have to play dirty too, huh?”

Texas smirked, “I am assured that you have some ‘gifts’ for him?”

“Please, Texas,” he beamed a grin, “I always have an ace up my sleeve.”

Lappland yawned. “So much talking. Can we hit the road already?”

“Soon, but I must insist that you leave your Eastern blades behind.”

Lappland was shocked to the core, “You’re absolutely bullshitting me, aren’t you, Doctor?”

“If we do get captured, I am not willing to have your blades forfeited and into his hands. If that’s the case, what good will it do to keep us alive?”

Still opposed to the idea, her hand flinched to the hilt, “I can slaughter our way out of the black market. I was built for this day, my sole purpose of being alive hinges on the fact that I avenge…”

She bit her tongue.

“... Nevermind. I still insist that they stay with me.”

“Your Sundial ability transcends past your swords, right?”

“Yea, I can use them in a fist fight. Why?”

“Please keep your swords and use Sundial, then.”

“Doctor.” She shook him up with her arm still coiled around his neck, “Are you still half-asleep up there? I’m not giving up my babies like this.”

“Lappland.” Texas shot at her, which had her completely defensive. 

“Tsk.” Lappland soured up, “We could end the war right there and then. Why beat around the bush and pussyfoot ourselves? He is right before us by our doorstep. Now is our chance in murdering him and settling the score for good. Why are we inhibiting ourselves here?”

“We need to size up his forces and plan according. Rushing in guns blazing will jeopardise each and everyone of us, and I plan to not sustain any casualties. Besides that, we don’t have a pinpoint on his whereabouts. Hell, he may not even be in the black market currently.”

Lappland closed her eyes and massaged them. “I hope you’re wrong with him not being in the black market. If the chance pops up, I have dibs on his neck. Is that fine, Master?”

The Doctor nodded his head and gestured to her to take a stick, “I’ll allow it. You do have merits ; it’s best to end the war before it starts.”

That demonic smile flashed back again. “With pleasure.”

Texas shook her head in disapproval, “I hope you won’t be rash this time, Lappland. I had to choke you out to calm you down.”

Lappland hopscotched back to the candy shop, “No promises.”

Texas sighed, “What am I going to do with her?”

“You two seem close.” He smugged up.

“She is the last person I want to be close to.”

“Yet, it seems that you two share quite the history, which had you two fortunately, and unfortunately in your case, close.”

Texas stood up and took in some fresh. “... Is that so?”

“Sore spot?”

She shook her head and began to head back inside.

“Texas?”

She looked back at the Doctor.

“You want some bubble tea? Lungmen’s specialty, and Lin Gray had me hooked on it.”

She smirked. “I’d love to, Doctor.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit. Head inside.”

“Alright, Doctor.”

With that, Texas returned to the candy shop.

The Doctor took a breather in. With that, he was alone.

So he hoped, for it would be troublesome otherwise.

“I believe we are alone now?”

A voice spoke across the streets from the alley.

“As planned.”

The Doctor returned his gaze at the shadow that beckoned him.

“I see you have agreed to our arrangement?”

“Yes. Now I need to ask…”

He approached the shadow, paying attention to any unwanted attention.

“... Why did you reach out to me, Traditore?”

A solemn look painted his face.

Chapter Text

Traditore gave him a courteous bow, “Thank you for answering my request of seeing you exclusively. As arranged, I do not have a single guard near me, only a sniper for my own protection.”

“Real risky of you to call me out here, within a stone throw away from Lin Gray’s candy shop, especially with Texas and Lappland wide awake.”

“A calculated risk I am willing to take for the better of our futures.”

“Our futures? I don’t plan to recruit you.”

“Nor do I wish to further conjecture my efforts into your roguish operations, but I insist we put that aside and see each other eye to eye for the time being.”

Doctor hesitated. He could see the red flags being planted. “... How did you get my number in the first place?”

“May I invite you with a game of poker for tonight’s entertainment?” He shrugged it off.

“Firstly, rude of you to ignore my question. Secondly, strange of you to extend your hospitality to me, your supposed nemesis.”

“Please, Doctor.” He bowed down slightly, giving him an well-endowed gesture of goodwill, “You must understand that I am not your nemesis and that while I am aware that the option of using brute force and dirty tricks are always within my reach, I prefer to reach a more humane approach.”

“Pray tell on how you consider humane approaches, for a Reunion officer such as yourself.”

“Don’t lump me with them.” His eyes aimlessly looked away from Doctor, with a slight tinge of wistful regret laced within those eyes, “Call me cheap, but I am always on the lookout for more powerful beneficiaries.” 

“Why the sudden shift of interests?”

“Simply put it, my ideologies have differed from Talulah’s and I’ve grown tired of being one of her lapdogs. Being a stray dog by her side will only end with my death in the end.”

“... Won’t that be Queen Talulah to you?"

He shook his head, “Not anymore.”

“Funny. What about your crew you’ve been rolling with? The entire slums will be set ablaze, knowing that their leader has turned heel on the Queen.”

“A civil war does not intimidate me.”

“But a genocide will.”

“Such is why I am reaching out to you.”

“You expect me to play along with your act? For what, exactly?”

“A new age is upon us and I am willing to seize it. You and I have something to lose and gain here. For you, you are risking yourselves out here with your lives ready to be forfeited for the purpose of prosperity and justice for all. For you, you are here to especially gain your memories back, am I wrong?”

“... How did you know about that?”

“The infamous tale of the Tactical Commander scourging through the lands for his memories has spread to many. Whoever was the first to spread it is beyond me, but I am sure you now are aware that you yourself want to find the truth yourself about who you are.”

“Correct, but that is merely a cold reading that doesn’t link back to the fact that I am here for an ulterior motive. Who told you?”

“I do not follow.”

“You took a jab in the dark and guessed that was my ulterior motive. For someone like you who plays dirty and calculates every move, speaking of such a hypothesis is beyond you.”

Traditore chuckled, “Sharp."

“Who?”

“No need to point fingers now. It is beyond our primary objective.”

Doctor sent his glint to the distance and watched the sniper listening in to their conversation. He shook his head, knowing that Traditore will not entertain this topic anymore. 

“You must know that I am willing to take Lappland and Texas back, but if you were to cooperate with me, I won’t need to exercise such a distasteful option.”

“Threats won’t work on me, Traditore. You must also know I won’t give away my operators, not after what I’ve been through with them.”

The silence crept in and filled between them.

The soft shuffling of commuters and locals echoed ever so softly down the alleyway, alongside the gleeful chirping of those swallows.

That noon-high sunlight shone behind the Doctor and beamed into the dark mist behind Traditore.

“... Such as it is. I expected this as much.” With that tone of disappointment within his voice, he handed out a letter.

“What’s this?”

“An invitation to tonight’s poker game by the black market. I’ll have my patrols stand down for the night, since tonight is a special night for us. No one will try to take your neck tonight.”

“As if I will believe the idea that your men will sit idly with our presence.”

“I’ll see to i-”

Doctor raised his hands, halting him mid-speech, “You don’t understand, do you? What gives you the impression that I will trust a single promise on you? Who are you, exactly?”

The warm smile on Traditore’s face, that smile calculative and controlled, wiped away. As if he entered a pensive state, he looked away and pondered on what words to say and string up. “... I’m not your enemy, unless you force me to be.”

“Threats won’t work on me. Who are you exactly?”

A flicker of anger filled in Traditore’s eyes before it momentarily subsided, “I don’t wish to make more enemies than I need to. If Talulah learns of my eventual betrayal, do you think it would be wise of me to have Rhodes Island as yet another enemy? It’s stupid. Who am I exactly? I’m a man who is willing to risk everything to protect what is left for him.”

Doctor steeled his look, “You do have merit.”

Traditore pulled out a pistol and pointed at him, “I do not wish to resort anything stupid right now, Doctor.”

“Traditore…”

He then unloaded it, by sliding out his magazine and uncocking the bullet within the chamber, before chucking everything aside. “Do you finally understand how many times I could have killed you but didn’t? When will you listen to me?”

“... What are the stakes?”

“The structure is as such: Texas Hold’Em Up, with everyone granted 2000 chips to bet with. The win condition is to knock out everyone else and be the last one standing in the table. Should I win…” 

His expression squared up, stating the obvious in the air.

“And what if I win?” 

“State your prize, Doctor. It shall be arranged.”

“You will cease to chase Texas and Lappland, you will arrange transportation for us to leave Lungmen and…”

Doctor halted and pondered. 

Something was amiss within the finer details and he wondered.

“... Before I finalise my wager, tell me what your motive is.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Why do you stubbornly need Texas and Lappland?”

“I…” Traditore paused.

He looked up to the skies, trying to string up the words he needed to say, the words the Doctor was permitted to hear.

No need to lay down all his cards.

No need to go all-in for their first venture.

“To simply put it, it is for vengeance.”

“Vengeance? For what exactly? Revenge on Texas and Lappland for what they had done in the past?”

Traditore shook his head, “I am not petty enough to exact vengeance on individuals for the mere purpose of my own selfish resolution. What I plan to do is beyond such a narrow goal.”

“Pray tell.”

“For now, you have to trust me when I say I plan to use their Arts for a greater purpose. Anything more and it will all be for naught.”

“Being ambiguous and vague, if not flowery, won’t help you here.”

“Such as it is, but you must understand that I am not the villain you are seeking, nor am I pinpointing such a role for you. You see, we both are heroes in our own story, however…”

He drew a sealed envelope from his blazer and offered it to him.

“Only one can remain.”

“You’re losing me, Traditore.” Doctor glared down at him with squinted eyes, “You’re getting more and more confusing by the day.”

“Beat me in poker and I will answer all your questions on top of the conditions you stated earlier.”

Doctor hesitated, but reached out for the lette-

Traditore snatched him by the wrist and pulled him closer. 

With his mouth close to the Doctor’s ear, he whispered a faint promise to him.

“I have a piece of your past as collateral. Win and it shall be yours.”

He loosened his grip which granted the Doctor to withdraw instantaneously.

“Oh dear. It seems I am unwelcomed here anymore, in an ironic sense.”

The Doctor, only by then, realised a shadow emerged behind him from the entrance to the alleyway.

An ensemble of crystallised swords formed up in the sky, glittering and glimmering as radiantly as the sun, with an disastrous wrath tattooed on her face. Growling, as if true to her race, as if she was about to be unhinged and break out of her character. 

That bloody red tapering of her hair flared up like this erupting anger boiling within. Seeing him again insulted her, especially when he was so close.

“Stand down, Texas.”

“Doctor?”

“Stand down.”

“I will be doing all of us a favour if I have him killed right now.”

“He has a sniper on my head. Any jolt of movements onto him and my head gets blown off.”

“Sharp eye, Doctor.” Traditore applauded for his keen sense of awareness. He flicked a thumbs up to the air which had the sniper nodded, 100m away from where they were. “How did you find that out?”

“The Sun’s ray of light twinkled the scope. Beyond that, I would have only guessed that you had company.”

“Clever. Without further ado…” 

He bowed.

“... I shall take my departure.”

With that, he walked off into the shadows, where his silhouette became engulfed by the darkness within.

“Doctor.”

She slapped him.

“What were you doing?”

He rubbed his cheek, with that mild expression still plastered on his face. “He invited us for a game of poker, and this is our opportune moment to strike.”

“As if we can trust him, Doctor. What were you thinking, rendezvousing with him without informing any one of us?”

“Should I have done that, who knew what would happen with the negotiations? Who would nail down Lappland or even protect Lin Gray and everyone else?”

She smacked her tongue, “And you believe sticking your neck out like this is any better?”

“No. It was a gamble…”

He lifted the letter.

“... And it paid off.”

She shook her head before heading out of the alley.

“Lunch is ready.” Her cold tone felt distant from him, as if the distance between them grew miles apart, as if frustration was taking a hold of her, if not betrayal.

The Doctor took a deep breath before he returned to the candy shop, pretending nothing happened.

As the Sun began its descent to the horizon, he had his team geared up for the night.

Chapter Text

“Do you think Doctor will come back tonight?” Suzuran rubbed her eyes and yawned.

Amongst the warm yellow desk lamp against the purple twilight twinkling outside the young’un’s window, Texas shifted her attention away from Suzuran’s homework. ‘2232’ was what read out by her watch. Those yellow-green quartz of eyes beckoned Texas for an answer and for once, throughout their tutoring session, Texas did not have an answer.

‘What could I say…?’

It had been a week since Doctor had engaged with another operation far across the ravaged lands of Terra. Wherever he may be, she had not a single clue. Initially, his main objective and peacekeeping operations had him locked down in Chernbog, but shifting interests drifted him to Ursus, then Lungmen and so on, so forth. No one else left on the landship had a clue of his whereabouts, and even if they do, what business would they have with Texas?

Only now could Texas hope that Doctor was alright.

If only she was there with him.

Alas, considering her capabilities and limitations, the nature of this operation was far beyond her.

She had discussed with him on embarking the operation, but he had to put her down. Teams were drafted and none of the rosters had her in it. As much as her heart were wrunged, she had to respect his decision. She was not the tactical commander of Rhodes Islands, was she?

And yet, why did she feel a prick within her heart?

“... Probably not, Lisa.”

Those sunken eyes upon hearing that answer were not enough to snuff out the dear’s optimistic flame but it was enough to hurt her hopes. Suzuran nodded to it and stretched out her arms to the chill air around them.

“I think I’m done with homework for tonight.” Suzuran’s eyes were fighting hard to stay wide open, “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

A gentle hand petted her, “You did good, Lisa.”

“Thank you, Ms Texas.” A small, yet gentle, smile twinkled before her. “I just wish Doctor is here to see my progress.”

“He’s proud of you. I’m sure of it.”

Suzuran giggled. “Ms Texas?”

“Yes?”

“I heard you were from Siracusa too.”

“Yes, I am.”

“What was your life like back then?”

“It’s…” Texas let out a sharp breath, “It’s complicated.”

“Oh… I see.” Suzuran hung her head, “I’m sorry for asking.”

Her eyes drifted away from Suzuran and saw a few familiar faces from the past. All were smiling for Texas and with each smile, it tightened her chest ; Mementos of the past were meant to stay in the past, not in the present nor in the future. Reliving those memories would always darken her eyes but they were bound to resurface one way or another, one day or the next. What prompted her this time was innocence itself asking. In any other instance, dread would be written across her face to whomever or whatever evoked these wistful feelings to return to her once more. She shook herself against it, knowing that Suzuran meant no harm.

‘Both of us were from Siracusa, and yet…’ Texas smirked a bit, stiffening her upper lip and was amused at life itself.

“What about you, Lisa? How was your life in Siracusa?”

“Ah. It was nice.” A ray of sunshine beamed out of her and life began to return to Suzuran’s face, “I used to live with my papa and mama by the shrine.”

“You were a shrine maiden?”

“I was.” Suzuran began to chirp, “Everyday, I would help out with the chores like cleaning the hallowed grounds, watering the plants and assisting my papa. He would conjure up so many crystals and it was absolutely beautiful. I hope I can make a crystal incantation as beautiful as his one day.”

“... I believe you were living at the Ririsu shrine?”

“Ah! You’ve been there too, Ms Texas?”

A nod was enough to answer her.

“I’m happy that you did come by and pay a visit to the shrine. I must have been busy with my duties, so I wasn’t able to greet you.”

‘You did see me, Lisa.’ Texas thought to herself, ‘I remembered. It was better for you not to remember my presence.’

“What did you pray for, if I can ask, Ms Texas?”

Upon hearing the question, Texas could see a familiar face that she always dreaded to see. It was a haunting spirit, as ferocious as it was unpredictable, and it would hound her to the ends of the world. Nowhere was safe from her, and she remembered the crimson red bloodstains tainting her pure white silhouette. How long had it been since she had departed with Lappland? How funny, if not twisted, was it for life to rekindle their ‘friendship’ once more?

“Peace.”

Unbeknownst to Suzuran, that single word for Texas was enough to crush any person’s shoulders. It was enough to rip any innocent soul open like a feral wolf sinking its teeth to feast upon its prey. It was enough for anyone to plead and beg, to grovel and cry, for mercy. It was not the kind of peace that one would hope for their neighbors, friends, family and enemies. That kind of peace was fragile and vulnerable. It was not the kind of peace that one would hope for nations, states and countries to seek. That kind of peace was lip service for politicians to solidify their popularity.

What peace she was scouring the lands for, she affirmed herself, was the kind of peace she found here in Rhodes Island. A fleeting peace, amongst the bloodsoaked battlefields embroiling any and all to become the demons in their nightmares, across the heartless seas drowning anyone embarking on their voyages for riches, above the reaches of any man and woman within this despairing world. A fleeting peace, tiny and warm, like a speck of hope, was what she hoped for.

Forbearance, for what had been done was all that was to it for her ; These scars of the past were nothing more than the past.

Exoneration, for what had been done shall not dictate her any longer ; These scars of the past must not define her any more.

Release, for what had been done must be let go lest she wishes to be consumed.

A fleeting peace within herself.

A kind of peace that would help her sleep better at night.

“I prayed for peace.”

“I see.” Suzuran’s tails began to embrace Texas before her arms. Texas hesitated but allowed it. The fluffiness, the warmth, the sweet scent of vanilla and lilies, had Texas losing herself to visions of green pastures and fields of daffodils, “I hope for your prayer to be answered soon.”

Texas hugged back.

“Thank you, Lisa.”

Texas thought of Doctor and wondered if he too wished for peace.

Chapter Text

“... Does anyone else have any other issues to address? If not, then the meeting shall be adjourned. For those of you still injured, take it easy tonight. For the rest, go ahead and do what must be done. Texas, Lappland and I will head down to the black market.” Doctor fetched his navy blue coat and headed towards the candy shop exit, “Sora, remember to liaise with me every hour. Otherwise, do not hesitate to trigger the contingencies.”

“Got it.” Sora spoke from the counter.

“Final perimeter checks are done, Doctor.” The front door chimes announced Texas’s return.

“And the results?”

"Thanks to the coordinates generated from your Eyes of Priestess, all locations hosting any presence of Schiavo's men have been identified. All possible choke points and points-of-interests have been scouted out. With that, I've established a route to the black market that'll keep us under the radar."

"Perfect."

"Allow me to ask, Doctor."

"Yes?"

"Are you fit to participate in tonight's operation? Extensively using the Eyes of Priestess over a kilometer radius would have strained your sanity."

"Nah, no worries. A good long nap perked me up." Doctor showed off a plastic bottle filled with murky yellow liquid. "Besides, Lin Gray concocted some Ginseng tea to calm my nerves too."

"As…" That swigging suspicious slush had her skin crawl. Texas had witnessed aplenty, and yet he never fails to surprise her. Lin Gray nodding at her gave her a bit of assurance. "As you wish, Doctor."

Doctor lugged over his shoulder a black inconspicuous duffel bag. His dear assistant pointed at it. “Ah this? It will assist us with our infiltration.”

“... As you wish, Doctor.”

Lappland booted the door behind the store counter. In spite of the wary looks from everyone, she sauntered towards Texas. "Are we ready yet? All this waiting is killing me. I want to bust some skulls open already."

"If that door breaks or the hinges pop off, I'm not paying for it." Doctor remarked.

"It's fine, Doctor. You'll pay for something else."

Leaving him with a question mark, she waltzed out to the front of the store. Some queasy looks afterwards, Doctor shrugged it off and nodded to Texas. "Let's go."

With that, the trio headed out of the store. A spare car waited outside for them thanks to Emperor’s insane talent to procure any goods out of thin air. (This time, Doctor had his fingers crossed that this won’t not crash and burn.)

Doctor reached out for his door handle.

“By the way, Doctor?”

“Yes?”

Lappland snatched him by the wrist and pierced her nails into him.

“Lappland?!”

Her other hand clutched him by the collars. She hoisted him up and banged him against the car. All the air in him was punched out but that was not enough for her. She lifted him off the ground and laid her thumb against his throat.

“Lappland.” Texas barked.

“Not now, Texas.” Neither her glistening white eyes, the homely yellow glow from the candy shop nor the fantastic black night sky could mask over the crimson red taint of bloodlust in her eyes. “I want to squeeze some answers out of him, like why was he conspiring with that fucking scheming asshole behind our backs this afternoon.”

Her hands were trembling, but not by fear for what lines she had crossed, because no boundaries or chains could ever shackle her down; Not by sorrow for this twisted sense of betrayal, because nothing else would ever rain on her parade; Not by desperation, for she had all the time to have Schiavo’s life be crushed in her fingers. Not at all. Why her hands trembled was because she felt the rush, the adrenaline, the exhilarating impulse whispering in her ears. It whispered to share with Doctor a glimpse of what she was capable of. A small taste of her power, which she had demonstrated over the blood-soaked battlefield all this while. Doctor, compared to the adversaries and foes she had dispatched, was too easy of a prey to her; All she needed was one second. No matter how much Doctor would struggle or resist, he was a mere candle flame to this blizzard.

Her hands trembled not just because she felt this murderous impulse to kill him there and then, but also because she could not.

Texas ripped open a fresh batch of Pepero and leaned against the hood of the car.

“Lappland.” Doctor’s free hand enveloped over her thumb, not trying to rip her hand off her collar but instead trying to stop her from choking him, “I can explain.”

“Talk.”

“Schiavo invited us for poker at his hideout.” He retrieved the letter from his pockets. “His address is listed here.”

Her glare did not waver.

“I will never conspire with Schiavo nor would I entertain any of his games.” He waved the envelope. “This is the golden opportunity for us to end this confrontation now.”

“Do you even know the weight of your actions, dear Doctor?” Her smile bore all of her fangs, and how they sparkled like the stars above them. “Allow me to clarify then.”

Letting go of his wrist, Lappland clutched his collar tighter and again slammed Doctor against the door. Doctor grunted as his head banged against the roof.

“His miserable excuse of a life has been prolonged because of you. Justice was thwarted off its righteous path because of you.This sacred link of trust between me and you? My oath of vengeance for the sake of my fallen brethren? My very reason for being alive? You, of all people, stopped it all from coming into fruition. You.”

“Lappla-”

“WHY?!”

A clear bead twinkled by the side of her pale cheeks. Lappland swept it away by rubbing her cheek against her sleeves, only for her glare to deepen with each tear coming after.

Doctor fought against his fears and breathed deeply. Slowing down his breaths, he counted.

The rest of the cast watched by the windowsill.

"You're right, Lappland. You're right." Doctor pocketed the envelope and rested his hands upon the predator, "If I had granted the immediate order to execute him after the meeting, the war shall end there and then. Revenge will be yours and Texas’s in full, and we all would be able to enjoy a Lungmen holiday…" Doctor's hands pounced on her shoulders and braced her. Lappland tightened her grip and pinned him down harder. “... But nothing good will come out from a head-on confrontation. Casualties are at stake, Lappland. Casualties we could not afford.”

"Casualties?! You let that monster run off scot-free! He had slaughtered thousands back in Siracusa and his genocide rages on, all because you are worried of casualties?!"

"If we had engaged with him at the instant it was convenient this afternoon, not only would his sniper take my head off, but another one of his underlings would simply assume his position. Decapitate one head of the Hydra and two more heads will grow; It won't solve anything."

"Then let them grow! I'll keep hacking into all of their necks! I'll slaughter them all! I'll make them regret standing before me."

“Are you forgetting that we are outgunned, outnumbered and out of luck? He has strings and connections in every corner of the slums."

“And do you think I care? I will kill each and every one of those filthy unforgivable cockroaches. I will hack and slash and maim and slaughter every single traitor until none are left standing. Under my blade will they become ashes, and they shall know Hell for my eternal wrath will hound them to all of eternity."

“Exactly my point.” His fingers squeezed her shoulders firmer. “Beyond civilian lives, I am not willing to lose you or any other operator in this engagement. Do you think I enjoy the sight of any of you dying? If Texas had not intervened back on the highway, you would have been gunned down before you could even touch him."

“You don’t get it.” Lappland clicked her tongue and hung her head low. “I’ve gotten stronger, Doctor, for this day…”

"Listen to me. I'm not letting you die, Lappland. Your life is not worth this."

"... What would you know of my worthless life?" She mumbled under her breath.

"It's worth more than taking revenge upon Schiavo."

“TO HELL WITH MY LIFE.”

Lappland threw Doctor down. Scratching her head, her fist banged against the car window.

“Look at me, Doctor! Take one good long look at my body. Do you think this unholy life would ever be worth anything? Look at my originium crystals growing off me. Look at all my scars and stitches. Look at me! This foul abomination of a body… It bears the sigil of a cursed being. My mere existence is a plague, compelled to be the specter upon her adversaries. I stand before everyone as vengeance herself, the devil who shall dish out divine retribution…"

Doctor shuffled back to his feet.

“... Today was the day blessed by the Heavens above. Today was supposed to be the day where atonement was nigh upon my hands. I saw the weeping angels hark for my return to salvation and here we are, with you hindering this sacred ceremony…”

Lappland's demented smile, her very own signature, wavered as she hollered out to the cold, cold night. Doctor slowly approached her.

“... Understand this simple fact: I was meant to die in the first place, Doctor, and you robbed me of that right!”

Doctor caught her by the shoulders. With sharp, short breaths and the whimpering laugh out of her, Lappland clutched onto his collar once more. This time, however, she was not lifting him off the ground.

“I am not giving you permission to die and that is final.”

The white Lupo's eyes widened. "How could you?"

Her hands crept up to his throat.

Texas controlled her breathing and focused on the dorsum of Lappland's hands, should she need to intervene.

“How is it that you still don’t understand that my life is forfeit from the very beginning?”

Doctor cupped her hands, stopping her from inching any closer. “How could you not understand that your life is worth more here with us?”

“With us?”

“Your vengeance upon Schiavo is promised, as much as I have promised Texas. However, what is the point of vengeance should you die?”

“That is the whole point, Doctor. Once I have fulfilled my purpose, where else will I go? What else waits for me other than my dear father and brothers in the afterlife?”

He shook his head. “I need you to stay here in Rhodes Island with us.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you have a family here with us.”

Beyond the blood-red clouds swirling within Lappland’s eyes, her pure white irises pierced through it to see him. Doctor guided Lappland’s hands onto his throat.

“Death is hardly the ultimate end of a life, Lappland. You should know this, of all people, I presume.”

“Doctor…”

“After Schiavo perishes, perhaps you are right that you will no longer need to seek vengeance. You shall no longer crave for strength or might, and instead yearn for death itself to find you as destined. If you ever wish to break your contract and leave us for good, I will not stop you…”

He gripped tight on Lappland’s wrists, which prompted her to squeeze his throat a bit.

“... However, I implore you to think of your presence, and what you have done for everyone.”

Her hands quaked under his grasp.

“Look deep inside yourself and ask why you are here with us. Were you here to avenge your father? Were you here to settle the score with Texas? What was it, Lappland?”

Her nails prickled against the skin of his throat, but nothing more.

“It was for strength, wasn’t it? It was because you wished to become stronger. But why?”

“Doctor…” She growled, squeezing him tighter.

“It’s not because you could just keep slaughtering, was it? It’s not because you could achieve the title of being the strongest, was it? No. It’s because you believe what I believe in too; A future for all, Infected and non-Infected alike; To be able to stand together as fellow brothers and sisters beyond prejudice, discrimination and infection; To be able to restore the world of the peace it deserves, a peace for people like you and me...”

Lappland saw Castellano within Doctor’s eyes.

How much he wished for the civil war within the mafia to be over.

“... And I can't achieve that dream without you."

She saw her brothers in arms nodding at her.

Their hopes and dreams, their very legacy, chimed within her.

“You need to be stronger for everyone, Lappland.”

She saw her father with his fond smile.

“I can’t let you die.”

Rain, with each raindrop stabbing through like daggers, casted away those blood-red clouds within her eyes.

Her? A lone wolf at the complete mercy of the whims of fate? Worthwhile? One who exists to be the bane of many? One who wakes up to destruction and hellfire? One who has shredded away any meaning of peace within her very soul?

There she was again, by the freezing alleyway. As an orphan shunned away, an aspiring gangster vying, and an outcast bloodied and bruised. She could still see him standing by the mouth of the alleyway with his hand extended out, palm wide open for her to hold onto.

Had she always been alone?

They were still watching over her. Their torch, high and proud, blazing through that frigid winter, had always been with her.

What good would it do if those ambitious dreams perish with her?

“Dad…”

Lappland’s hands flew down to his robes and clung tight.

“Castellano…”

She planted her head on his chest.

“Boys…”

She fought hard to keep herself straight.

“I’ve failed you…”

Swiping away her tears, her maddening laugh tried to snuff out her bawling.

Texas patted her on the back. On any other day, she loves to keep her distance and ignore her. Not tonight. Tonight was not the night. Forget those days where Lappland would hound her after work, or those invitations to spar, or those intrusive prying of her past; Tonight was the perfect abyss, for it will swallow up the chains of the past in hopes of the morning sun.

“... I have to get stronger.” Lappland croaked out those words.

She tugged down onto Doctor’s robes to face him once more.

“I have to.”

She shot the Doctor with fervid looks, as if she saw the light within his very soul.

“I must.”

She blinked hard to swipe away all these meddlesome tears. The light before her was blinding and yet, she beamed back with that carnivorous smile of hers.

“I MUST!”

She smelt that sweet, sweet scent of victory and heard the trumpets far away from her, waiting for her.

“You’re right, Doctor! You’ve been right this whole time! Salvation has never left me! There is work to be done. There are heathens to purge away from this world, villains to vanquish, assholes to tear apart.” Her hearty laugh was to be heard from the distant corners of the world, “Schiavo will pay! All of them will pay! Reunion, the Siracusa Mafiaso, all will fall unto my blade. All shall tremble to my power!”

“Alright, Lappland. Calm down. I believe the neighbours are trying to rela-”

Lappland tugged him close.

“Promise me, Doctor, to keep me from being astray. Promise me that power is mine for the taking and that I shall dispatch it in rightful stride! Promise me and I will unleash hell upon this measly world!”

Even with his steadfast resolve, her mere presence was enough to make him shudder under this unyielding storm of a woman. “I-I promise.”

“Do you hear that, Texas? He promised me that I’ll become stronger.” She laughed out loud, “One day, we shall fight as we always have back in those golden days, by the meadows under the thunderstorm with our lives on the line! One day, you will return to the fearsome warrior you once were out of your cowardly shell! One day! I swear on it! Until then…”

She flung the car back door open and dove right in, which jolted the Doctor.

“Get in. We have a traitor to hunt.”

Doctor closed her door, not because he wanted to help her but because he wished for the car not to be destroyed any further.

“... Seems that she has returned to her normal self.” Texas remarked.

“Yep. Good enough for her to feel herself again…” Doctor opened the shotgun seat door, ignoring the cracked window, “I don’t suppose you too have a grudge against me?”

“Even if I do hold a grudge, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“... I’m sorry to hear that, Texas.”

She offered the Doctor one stick of Pepero.

“I’ll hold you to the success of this operation. Upon completion, I’ll forget about this lapse of judgment.”

He took it and thanked her. He jumped into the shotgun seat as Texas revved the engine.

“Texas, wait.” Doctor got out of the car, sprinted into the candy shop, and after a few minutes came back.

“Lappland, here.” He offered her a bowie knife. “I can’t let you not utilize your Sundial fully.”

Lappland snatched it off his hands.

“Where did you get that?” Texas had to ask.

“Emperor is a handful, but he does know how to procure anything from thin air.”

“Hmm. As expected of him.” Texas began to drive away from the candy shop.

“Yep.” With that, he leaned back on his seat and watched the world outside breezed by.

===

“Here we are.”

With that, Texas cut off the engine and all three of them got out of the car. Standing at the top of an abandoned parking garage, marked by the Emperor himself, they basked in the scenic view of the black market. It dazzled bright against the pitch black night backdrop, ironic to its expected nature of lucrative yet secretive business. Then again, after much thought, Doctor nodded to its existence; Everyone has to make a living somehow, and where else is better than this forbidden corner of paradise?

“What’s the plan, Doctor?” Texas asked.

“One moment.” Doctor took a deep breath, “Eyes of Priestess.”

A moment of darkness before the flashbang that shed away the darkness.

‘Silhouettes. Burly figures. Firearms. Blades. Stronghold. Many resided within. Ten? Twenty? About twenty. No distinct features between them.’

His eyes scorched brighter in striking hues of yellow and red as he tried to sharpen the resolution. Faces began popping up. Floor plans began being sketched out for him. Strengths and weaknesses began revealing themselves. The longer he spent in his fractured mind and this disjointing mess of information, the more he felt his head expanding and collapsing on top of him.

And yet, he scoured through it all.

‘Where is he?’

Faces of men and women were profiled.

‘Where? Where’s Schiavo?’

Body size, physique, built, any other physical distinctions… Anything…

‘What?!’

He snapped himself wide awake, out of the trance, and buckled to his knees.

“Doctor?” Texas rushed to his side, “What’s wrong?”

“I combed through Schiavo’s hideout.” He shook his head. His breath was sharp and shallow, almost hyperventilating, as if he saw something he should not have seen at all. He could hardly believe what he chanced upon.

“Is he there?” Lappland fired her question as she cracked her knuckles.

“Schiavo… He’s not in the hideout. He’s… He’s not playing tonight’s game of poker.” Choppy breaths broke his sentences but he needed to vomit out whatever was needed to be known.

“What?” Texas looked back at the black market. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know, but walking into tonight’s game is signing your own death warrant with that much firepower. His men are armed to the teeth.” Doctor clasped her by the arm and locked his eyes on hers, “What’s worse? He’s right.”

“About?”

“My past.” Doctor could barely unscrew the cap for his Ginseng tea, let alone take sips. “In his study room, on the top floor down the hallway, lies his collateral for tonight’s game…”

It called for him.

It yearned for him to return.

“... A piece of my past.”

Chapter Text

‘I used to be a name here…’

Tugging into her hoodie, Texas waded through the sea of the shifty and seedy. Right in the belly of the Lungment Black Market, she weaved through bubbly merchants, scampering pickpockets and shifty men dressed-to-the-nines by their stalls. This merry ambience blanketing over everyone here was enough for her to scoff at its decadence. To think that something this lucrative yet outlawed would boast about its presence scratched her head; Curtain lights growing on the sides of the stalls like vines, exotic goods laying out for display without any tapes or seals, pilfered tech and weaponry showcased by the racks and shelves, all these and more rubbed Texas the wrong way. Then again, with law enforcement in their pockets and the higher echelons of Lungmen parading here, maybe she was out of place; For them, it was nothing more than yet another trading hub.

Musks of foreign delicacies, tiny hints of poisons wafted in the air and the smoky scent of gunpowder, it all gave her no peace of mind. It all reminded her of a much more turbulent time. Sepia-toned nostalgia would sweep her off her feet should she not be careful; Memory lane was around the corner.

She quickened her pace and hoped that no one here was familiar. It was funny how she was not losing herself to the festivities here. All she could think of was what’s at stake. Tonight's game was a golden opportunity caged within its gilded keep.

‘No one else is tailing us.’ Texas paced back to the alleyway she needed to be.

For a moment, she recalled of Doctor back at the abandoned parking garage. He dug through his emporium of a duffel bag, to which had her raising her eyebrows. Some of his goods were over-the-top to say the least; Imagine pulling out a Lupara shotgun out of it, and Doctor with his cheeky smile.

“What?” She recalled him trying to justify it. “Fitting, isn’t it? You can’t have a mafia shootout without a Lupara, although I wish I had a Tommy Gun too.”

She turned the corner and combed her surroundings.

Imagine him trying to elaborate why he needed an outlandish ballistic mask painted with some decals or a baker boy cap with a razor blade in it.

Snapping out of it, she sighed as she began climbing up the fire escape up to the third floor.

“Yo.” Lappland offered her a helping hand to hoist her up to the gratings, to which her smile widened when Texas ignored it. “Ready for tonight’s heist?”

“It’s not a heist.”

“Not in my eyes. Busting into a casino led by Schiavo’s underlings, and breaking into a safe to retrieve a high-value item for Doctor.” She began bouncing on the grating. The fire escape was sturdy enough to withhold, but every creak had Texas frowning. “Besides, twenty men on the ground floor, with ten more on the second floor. All strapped up and all so more willing to pop our heads. Doesn’t that excite you, Texas?”

“No.” Texas popped a Peppero into her mouth. “It’s another day in the office.”

“Aye, where did my Texas go? My Texas would always be excited for a fight. It pains my heart that I am with her mere husk.”

Texas shook her head. “Since when was I ever that reckless?”

“Always. It’s just nowadays, you keep yourself contained and locked up in your own miserable shell. It’s like as if you have forgiven Schiavo for what he has done to your fa-”

Texas thrusted a crystallized sword towards her. Fortunately for Lappland, her reactions never failed her.

“See?” Her thorny partner snickered, “If you scrubbed off the rust and got back to sparring with me, maybe you would have taken my head off right there and then.”

The white brazen wolf was about to take another jab at her, but with Texas’s hand quivering and a blackened face rallied up by a hot red backdrop…

“Now that’s a side of you I haven’t seen in years.” Lappland’s voice softened, titillated by the mere view.

Texas’s fingers let go of the blade, letting it disintegrate. “... The reason why you managed to dodge my blade is because you’re not my target.”

“Well said.” Lappland patted her on the back. “I told you, Texas. That day, where you shall yearn for more power, is nigh. I can feel it.”

Texas shrugged her hand off and took a deep breath to restore her composure. Insinuating that she had forgiven him was more than enough to piss her off. It was bad enough to see her dear colleagues down for the night, bandaged and wrapped up, but what he had done to her family? It had been years since that terrible night in the thunderstorm by the meadows. For months, even years, those memories lingered on within the darkest depths of her heart. It was haunting and yet it called out to her, for it knew that she yearned to return.

How long has it been since she returned home? Was she not strong enough to move on?

All she could see was Schiavo’s face. She clenched her fist.

‘How long has it been since I’ve visited your grave, Father?’

“What’s taking Doctor so long?” Lappland leaned back on the brick wall.

“You’re right.” Texas admitted, “After this operation, have me as your sparring partner.”

Lappland could hardly believe what she heard. She was about to jump off the fire escape. “Texas…?”

Texas straightened her look but not another word left her.

“Texas, Lappland, are you both in position?” Doctor radioed over.

“In position, over.” Texas beeped over her walkie talkie. She rummaged into the duffel bag and began tinkering with her mobile electronic countermeasure (ECM) jammer.

“Roger that, Texas. Remember the playtime window and route of insertion.” Doctor pinged back, “Lappland, in position?”

“Yep. Muscle’s a bit tight from all the waiting. Don’t make me wait any longer than I need to, Doc.” Lappland responded before doing some stretching.

“Alright. Reminders: Five-minute window before communications can be restored. Achieve vantage points before any other engagement. With that, static silence over the radio. We’re on our own. Good luck.” Doctor said, “Texas, boot it up.”

“Roger, out.”

At the command, Texas switched on the ECM. Two crystallized swords pierced through the deadbolt and the door lock. Lappland bowed and opened the door for her. “Ladies first.”

‘Five personnel present within the third floor. Schematics revealed no potential tripwires or traps laid, at least with the ECM active,’ Texas ran through her mental notes, ‘Cameras are down. Sensors are disabled.’

Down the lush hallways stood a mobster. Hearing hastened footsteps had him face to face with his death. “Who ar-”

A crystallised sword was wedged into his throat.

‘No need to hide the bodies.’

The dying man gargled in his own blood, trying to scream out for help, but to no avail.

“Too cruel, Texas!” Lappland clutched down on the crystallized sword’s handle and slashed it out. Twirling to bask in the final moments of the man, Lappland carried on sprinting with her partner. “That’s why I love you!”

‘Security room is located by the far corner of the floor.’

===

The eye-slot slid open. A single eye popped out to inspect whoever was knocking.

A letter, perched within his hands, waved at them.

“Let him in.” A rough voice ordered, “He’s the one the boss’s expecting for tonight.”

Locks clicked. Chains jingled. The metal door shambled and made way. What greeted him were three men: One standing with his chest puffed up and hands behind him, and the other two by his sides aiming down their Armsel Striker shotguns at him. Doctor raised both his hands high up in the air.

The middle-man raised a hand. On cue, both of the henchmen relaxed their aim. Preening his bowtie and swiping away any dust bunnies on his blazer, he flashed a welcoming smile. “Evening, signore. I believe you’re the man of the hour. I’m in charge of this lovely establishment.”

Doctor’s eyes trailed around the shophouse to see any resemblance of whatever ‘lovely establishment’ he was referring to.

“Name’s Stefano, and it is with great honor to host tonight’s game.” He approached Doctor with caution, stretching out his hands and laying them onto his shoulders. “Pardon me. Simply a security procedure, but don’t worry. If you have nothing to declare, then you have nothing to fear.”

Stefano, after passing Schiavo’s invitation to one of his henchmen, began patting him down. He patted down on his arms and felt nothing odd. He continued on his search by patting down onto his chest.

“Must be a cold night tonight, huh, sir?” Stefano chuckled to himself, “Don’t worry. Our… What would you call it… Hospitality? It’ll warm you up nicely once you enter.”

He continued on patting him down the legs, from the thighs to the calves. He felt something rugged behind his ankle. Squeezing it again, he squinted at Doctor.

“Remove your right boot, signore.”

At first, Doctor hesitated but he complied. Removing it revealed a small pocket knife. Stefano, as if amused, grinned at this discovery. “What’s this?”

“... A souvenir from the Black Market.”

Stefano could see the silver strands within his black hair glinting by the speckless cheek of the knife. His henchmen readied their shotguns. They were ready to blast him to Kingdom come.

All this while, Doctor’s hands were still wide open.

“Heh…” Stefano could not help it but chuckled at this, before letting it grow to a guffaw. “Do you really think a knife will help you, signore? Must not be having all the lights up there working, huh?” He nodded before pocketing it. “Now, as much as I love the small gift, we can’t allow our guests to carry any form of weapons; Keeps everyone on their toes and we don’t want that, do we?”

Doctor let his hands roll in the air, somewhat telling him that he agreed to the sentiment.

“Loosen up, will you? Just busting your balls a bit, nothing more than a little Siracusan welcome.” Stefano wrapped his arm around Doctor’s shoulders before ushering him into their ‘establishment’, or so he claimed it to be.

“It’s hard to loosen up with two shotguns pointed at me, Stefano.”

“Ah, them? I wouldn’t sweat about it if I were you. These schmucks? They wouldn’t hurt a fly, right, boys?” Cueing them to holster their weapons, Stefano clicked his fingers. By the beckon, they closed the metal door behind them. “Must be utterly terrified that you just walked into a lion’s den. Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of you, under the direct orders of Schiavo himself.”

Through the reception and the lobby, beyond the velvety purple thick curtains, the fabled establishment radiated before him.

A temple of gold.

Wherever his eyes bounced to was gold. Marbled floors of golden yellow, polished and with a matte finish, was the foundation of the grand hall. Here, as far as Doctor could see, was where decadent greed ran amok; Fully booked poker tables hosting carefree punters tossing away chips like there was no tomorrow; Slot machines dinging and crashing chips down on the coin trays; Drinks flying off the cherrywood bar tops with waiters sneering for the fountain of tips raining on them. Climbing up these ivory pillars, fashioned with red, purple and yellow veils, displayed the second floor. A different corner of paradise existed here. Something more refined and posh altogether, relatively speaking. Doctor was more acquainted with the high tea and snacks served there as he too indulged with his operators back home. Twinkling chandeliers, like the stars, with the merry laughter swirling around him was enough to have him losing into the ambience. How much he wished to be up there instead of being down here, but he snapped out of that daydream.

‘Twenty guards on the ground floor...’ His eyes scanned the floor and saw them, dwelling in the shadows by the pillars. They were vanishing into the wafting smog of cigar smoke.

‘... And ten guards by the second floor.’ Lo and behold, they stood by as permanent as the fragrant perfumes donned by the other clientele. All of them were sniffing out any foul play.

At the far end of this sacrilegious temple was the main lift, connecting all three floors together. Smacked right in the middle of the ground floor was an empty table.

“Please, signore.” Stefano offered Doctor the seat, “Let’s start tonight’s game, huh? I will be your dealer.”

Taking his seat, he noticed that he was all alone by this table. No other patrons were here to make their wagers. “Thought we’re playing Poker tonight?”

“Since no one else was present, Blackjack will be tonight’s game. I assume there is no problem with that?”

“What about Schiavo? Wouldn’t he be playing with us?”

“Unfortunately no. He has personal affairs to attend to, but don’t worry about it. I believe that should not be a problem?”

Doctor glanced at the guards from the second floor who took an interest. “Not a problem at all.”

“Perfect.” His dealer shuffled the cards, then dished out two to Doctor.

Doctor checked his watch.

‘23:06’. Five minutes had already passed. He took a breath of relief seeing none of them suspecting anything upstairs. ‘Only a matter of time before Texas and Lappland come down here.’

“Where are the chips?”

“Under Schiavo’s orders, tonight’s wages shall not be gambled with money. To be fair, tell me if the big man needs any more money than he could pilfer from racketeering.” Stefano chuckled to himself, “Instead, we shall be gambling on information?”

“What do you mean?”

Stefano flipped open one card while the other faced down. His open card was a ‘5’.

“If you lose the wager, then you must share critical insider information regarding any topic or person I wish. If you win, however, then I shall tell you what you want or must know.”

“How could I trust that whatever information I’d wager would be worth as much as yours?”

“I believe Mr Schiavo has informed you that tonight’s collateral is a sentimental piece of yours?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t mean you give any handouts on how to retrieve it.”

“I would, if you win your wager.”

Doctor peeked his cards.

‘3’ and ‘4’.

“What do you even get out of this? If anything, I could lie as much as you could and none of us could be any the wiser.”

“Dangling a carrot in front of you is no way to treat an honoured guest. As for quality control…” Stefano’s wicked smile grew wider. “Would you like to wager on that?”

Doctor nodded to that and tried to read anything from his face. He squinted and tried to pick up on anything, but alas. “... Hit.”

‘5’.

“My wager is information regarding my Arts. Your wager is about the dynamic relationship between you and the two traitors. Would you like to hit or stand?”

‘12 total. No way I could bust here.’ Doctor tapped with two fingers.

‘J’.

“How unfortunate. You have busted.” Stefano retrieved the cards. “As promised, a piece of information please.”

‘What were the odds?’ Doctor’s eyes were about to pop out of its sockets.

“So, about the two wolves who were once part of us.” Stefano’s hazelnut eyes glowed purple.

“Them? We’re merely colleagues.”

“I do not recommend lying now, signore.” His tone became much sterner, as if he himself was insulted. Those purple irises were vibrating. “I am no fan of it.”

“That's all there is to it. We only operate on a commander-operator basis, nothing more.” Doctor locked eyes with him, keeping a poker face throughout.

Stefano clicked his fingers and one of his henchmen hurried behind Doctor. One hand clutched onto his head.

*Bang*.

The other punters seated around them paused to witness the commotion. The merry laughter that bombarded the casino crashed to pin-drop silence.

“Again, and let me stress it out, I do not appreciate liars.” Stefano snapped out of his keen tone as he snapped his fingers again, cuing his henchmen to let go of Doctor. “Don’t worry, dear patrons! Please go back to your games and pay us no mind.”

“Fuck me.” Doctor grunted as he snapped back his broken nose in place, wincing at the fact that maybe a few splinters fragmented off. “... So that’s your Arts.”

“Figured it out, sir?”

“Yep. Thanks for the heads up.” Doctor glowered at the henchmen. “No wonder Schiavo would trust you with tonight’s game. Still, where was my warning shot in that?”

“You left it back at the entrance with your pocket knife.” He smiled back as naturally as he could.

Doctor sighed, “Lost from the first turn. Alright.”

“However, I wish not to start off on the wrong foot. As such, I shall not pursue the answer regarding your discreet relationships. Matter of fact, now that I think about it, it might be a tad too personal. With that in mind…” Stefano clicked his fingers again. The henchman clasped Doctor by the wrist and planted his hand upon the table. Stefano began inspecting the pocket knife once again, “... Compliance to the rules must be enforced. If I catch you lying again, a finger will be enough as an apology.”

‘What have I gotten myself into?’ Doctor thought to himself, ‘I should have swapped places with Lappland.’

Stefano dished out two more cards to Doctor: a ‘A’ and ‘6’. He revealed one of his own and left the other faced down: ‘9’.

“My wager is information regarding how to retrieve Schiavo’s collateral. Your wager is the exact locations of the two traitors. Hit or stand.”

No point trying to weasel out of the grasp; It was about to break his wrist. Doctor could see the other guards enjoying the sight. “Hit.”

‘K’. Back to 17.

“... Hit.”

Stefano gave a smug smile before dealing the next card.

‘3’. Doctor has reached 20. He took a breath of relief. “Stand.”

“Very well. My turn.” The face-down card was ‘7’. His next card was a ‘3’, which totaled it to 19. Choosing not to draw the next card, Doctor claimed victory for this round.

“Aren’t you pleased with yourself.” Stretching out both his thumb and his pinky from his fist, he motioned to one of the guards. “Alright then. Tonight’s collateral resides within Schiavo’s study room, locked within a safe behind a three-number passcode. As to how you’ll find out those three number codes, you’ll have to knock each of them out of me.”

“That’s hardly information. Where exactly is Schiavo’s study room in the first place?”

His dealer pointed towards the other end of the second floor. Two plain wood double doors stood.

The guard prompted earlier came back with a shot of whisky and passed it on to Doctor. “I’ll be waging the same bet. What shall be your wager tonight, sir?”

“All three numbers for the safe’s passcode.”

“You need to up the stakes for yourself then. What would you risk for the biscuit?”

Doctor pondered for a moment. “I’ll add on the first bet regarding the relationship between the three of us.”

“Interesting bet. Alright. Great. I’ll take it.” Stefano dealt two more cards to Doctor: ‘2’ and ‘6’. He revealed one of his own and left the other faced down: ‘K’.

Doctor could not believe that his dealer had a ‘K’ for an opening card. He had to fight for this win. “Hit.”

‘6’. Total of 14.

Anything higher than an ‘8’ and either his tongue or his finger was gone. He puffed out a breath before facing him again. He peeked over Stefano’s shoulder, hoping for a familiar face to pop out by the lift, but to no avail. Was he out of luck? “... Hit.”

‘2’. Total of 16.

‘If only his open card was anything else other than a ‘K’, then it wouldn’t be too bad, but God damn it.’ Doctor’s shoulders slumped. He ran his free hand through his face. Over his fingers did that tempting shot of whisky wink at him. He was much better sober, for sure. Tipsy would be pushing his luck and being flat-out drunk will kill any semblance of success but his back was against the ropes. He gave it a thought, reached out for it and swigged it down.

‘Fuck it.’

“Hit.”

“You sure?” Stefano’s smile was innocent enough. His hands blanketed over the cards. It was enough for Doctor to feel the heat flush through his face. He shook his head, nodded and then shook again.

“Just hit me, Stefano. I have five fingers and a dream right here.”

“I like the confidence, signore.”

Stefano dealt the card.

‘2’.

Total of 18.

Doctor groaned out of relief with his chest smacking by the table frame.

“Impressive, signore. Would you like to hit or stand?”

“No more, Stefano. No more.” Doctor waved away the offer.

“Alright then. My turn.” Stefano’s face-down card was ‘8’. “I won’t be drawing a card. Therefore, it has resulted in a push (draw).”

“Fucking bullshit.” Doctor exclaimed, feeling his body warmed up even hotter, “I risked three cards for a push.”

“That’s how life is, signore, but I do like that you dared to take the gamble. What balls ya got.” Stefano chuckled to himself before dealing out the next two cards for Doctor: ‘6’ and ‘J’. He revealed one of his own and left the other faced down: ‘A’.

‘F u c k i n g b u l l s h i t. H e s t a r t s w i t h a n A ?’

Doctor nodded to the cheeky cunt of a dealer before him with his mouth agape. How much he wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.

‘F u c k i t.’

“Hit.”

‘K’. Total of 26. Doctor leaned back on his chair with his hand smacked square on his face. He was about to topple but thanks to the guard that was crushing his wrist, he did not.

“It seems you have lost, sir. Sucks to be you.” Stefano gave a scoff laugh at his misery. “I’ll ease you in for a bit. You can first describe the relationship between you and the two, and then proceed to mark out their exact locations.”

Doctor groaned, “I swear these cards are rigged or at least stacked against me.”

His dealer smirked as his eyes began to glow purple. Another shot was granted to Doctor. Downing it was enough to loosen his tongue. His head swayed to and fro just a tiny bit. He was not a lightweight, but downing two shots back-to-back was never a good idea.

“Texas and I are somewhat more than acquaintances and business colleagues.” Doctor raised his free hand to stop Stefano from doing anything. “And no, that is not a lie.”

“I know, signore. Please carry on; Don’t let me stop you.”

“Right. As I was saying, you could say that we are friends, but truth be told, I’m not too sure. Do you know what she was like in the past, or did Schiavo fill you in on how she is?”

“Not that I would know. I was hoping for you to spill some tea.”

“Odd. Schiavo hasn’t shared with you all about his past? He must have, considering how adamant he is in achieving Texas’s family secrets and Lappland’s swords. Has he not clued you in on who you’re facing?”

“That’s how he operates, signore. He keeps his cards close to his chest.”

“Fair enough. Looking back on the interactions we had, he’s nothing more than a shade no one could clamp down. Always operating in the shadows, including tonight.” Doctor blurted out before digressing, “Texas and I… I don’t even know what to say. She’s always been the mysterious one ever since day one. Even though she is a senior operator who has stayed in the roster for years, she is still relatively distant with everyone, especially with Lappland…”

Doctor peered into the empty whisky glass in his hand. Cold to the touch and frosted, he could hardly see his silhouette, let alone his lonesome reflection.

“... Or even me.”

“Sounds to me that she is special to you.” Stefano slouched against the poker table and rested his head on his palms. “Perhaps, if I may pry deeper into it, she’s someone you hold dear to your heart?”

Doctor took a breath and smacked his lips, before shrugging his shoulders. “Yea. She’s…”

For a moment, he recalled Texas in his arms back at the annual Rhodes Island party by the helipad. How much he wished to fall back into that tender moment, where time itself stood still for them. He could still see her dreamy eyes twinkling under that tangerine shine, biding her time to rest within his arms.

“Ah, signore is in love. Ain’t that lovely?”

“What’s the point, though?” This question had Stefano puzzled. “It’s not like she’d reciprocate my feelings back, as much as I wished.”

“C’mon, signore. A word of advice from me: Ya gotta man up and ball up, ya know?” His Siracusan accent leaked out for the moment, “Casting aside the whole feud between Rhodes Island and the Siracusan mafia, let me be real with you, man to man, eh. Women love a tough guy that promises to fight the entire world for her, even if he can’t. What better way to prove it than to take the step forward and confess to her when you can?”

“Heh.” Doctor shook his head. “If only that works with Texas. She’s a femme fatale, through and through. It’s not that she needs a tough guy. If anything, she had slashed her share of ‘tough guys’ on the battlefield.”

“Nah, signore. Not those types of tough guys who are all about the hoo-hah. I meant those who could take a rejection and still persist to keep on chasing. Women love seeing a guy being an absolute dog for her; Dedication and commitment are what makes you a cut above the rest. One day, and I promise you, she’ll fall for you easy.”

“... You really think so?”

“Five years and running.” Stefano flashed his silver ring around his ring finger. “What about you and the more uncouth one?”

“That’s one way to describe Lappland. Ironic to her boisterous nature, she never comes close to anyone. Her deep-seated wrath is more than enough reason for anyone to steer away from her, and yet she always glues herself to Texas. As for me, an outsider between them, I am merely another face for her. That was until this little trip down here in Lungmen...” Doctor locked back his blank stare at Stefano. Those purple mechanical gears were ticking and clicking away within Stefano’s eyes. “She keeps talking about seeking revenge for her fallen family, about how the Siracusan mafiaso themselves caused it. What happened?”

“If you wish to know that, you must knock that bit of information.”

“If this card game wasn’t bullshit, then maybe,”

“I could only pray for your future success, signore.” Stefano guffawed to that, “And what about the two traitors? Where are they situated exactly?”

Doctor peeked to his hand still strapped down by the henchman. No breathing room was between those beefy fingers, so he could not wiggle himself out. The knife by Stefano’s right side smiled. Could he talk himself out of this? No way. Could he blabber on to buy some precious time? He wished he could, but the better question was where were they? What was taking them so long? Could he afford snitching them out? That question was struck off his mind the moment it existed.

Seeing the knife being so happy, knowing what he was exactly considering, was enough to make him queasy.

“Why the hesitation, signore?” Stefano held the knife up. “I’m sure they are somewhere nearby. Otherwise, it would be a suicide mission for you to waltz right into our casino. Are they by the Black Market enjoying the sights? Or maybe…”

He tossed it to his henchman. The knife leaned against Doctor’s pinky finger with the razor sharp edge resting against.

“... They are inside this building?” Stefano shrugged his shoulders, trying to get a reaction from Doctor. Seeing nothing of a jolt was enough for him to be impressed. “Choice is yours, signore. We have a long night tonight, but don’t worry, the Black Market has some great prosthetic augmentations. I’ll give you a good name for some discounts.”

Adrenaline seeped into his raging heart.

Tonight was going to hurt.

“... Can I have one more shot before you cut my pinky off?” His dealer shook his head. “Fuck it. Take my pinky.”

“Aren’t you a killjoy. Alright. So be it.” Stefano clicked his fingers. “Try not to scream. I don’t want my patrons to be disturbed by our transaction.”

He felt the blade preparing to feast upon his finger. Its edge prickled against the foremost layer of skin. For a split second disguised as a minute, Doctor debated against himself. Should he look? Should he not? He wished he could look, but he also wished he could look away. His breathing stilled. Feeling it shimmying around had his arm quaking. Would it want to find a sweet spot between his joints and slice through like better? Would it want him singing? That was easy enough if it were to go through his tendons and innermost phalanx.

It took its destined plunge.

The knife hacked into him.

“FUCK.” Doctor banged his poker table with the free hand.

The pain.

This searing pain.

Scorching hot fire ravaged his arm. Each and every muscle fiber in his arm was convulsing, ripping and tearing within him. Electricity shocked him, sizzling his upper body and lighting him up into a cold sweat. Desperate fingers clawed on the rough felt of the poker table. He was going deaf to his ears ringing to the clouds above.

Where was his pinky finger?

He wiggled and writhed as his exposed knuckle grinded onto itself, but it was not there.

Where was it?

Oh God, where could it have gone?

Gritting down on his teeth, almost shattering it by biting down, he shivered and trembled, trying to take a peek under his hand.

There it was.

Soaked in a pool of rich red blood, there it was. His fingers stretched out, wanting to hold it close to him, but it froze. His fingers were freezing cold.

Another henchman came by with a small pail of water and towels. Raising Doctor’s hand, he washed the wound with a damp towel much to his agony. Each time he patted, it was as if lightning struck across his entire arm, over and over and over again. Not long after, some antiseptic was coated around the area and a sterile gauze was administered. Doctor’s hand was clamped down to the poker table afterwards.

“We still have a game to play, Doctor.” Stefano’s words pierced through Doctor’s pain.

The world was caving in. His senses were blurring in and out of reality.

The lift doors slid open and a white silhouette smiled in her bloody red attire. Above her, by the second floor railings, perched a black silhouette.

“Took you guys long enough.” He mumbled to himself.

“What shall you wage now, signore?”

The white silhouette began sprinting towards their table.

“A war, Stefano.” Doctor coughed out and he hoped those purple eyes saw the weight of these words. “I’m waging a war against all of you.”

The other punters began to run away from their seats in fear of her. The henchman pinning Doctor’s hand let go for the brief second to draw his knife, but it was too late.

“What?”

Guns blazed the grounds down. Thunder crackled through the casino as bullets flew. Tables were splintered and cracked, patrons began to hit the floor either scurrying for the exit or crawling to recuperate from their bullet wounds, but the white silhouette was howling with laughter. She bobbed and weaved, almost like she was dancing under the sparkling twinkles of bullets, chandeliers and spotlights, entranced by the senseless music of violence. Oh, how it sang to her. She dove into the crowd, slashing through everyone that stood in her way with the crystallized swords in her hand. Her partner-in-crime, who was situated on the second floor, returned fire with the arms she looted from the third floor.

“Sorry we’re late, Doctor!” Lappland beckoned for him. Stefano scurried away with the panicking crowd as his lingering henchmen tried to take her down, but alas. “We were enjoying the sights!”

Texas returned fire and cleared half of the guards by the second floor, with some more by the ground floor. Lappland crashed down the poker table, appropriating it as a makeshift cover. A large ‘boom’ exploded outside the casino and all three knew what it meant.

“Love me a wilder party! Let’s paint the town red with all of them!” Lappland passed him his duffel bag. “Here you go.”

Doctor, groaning to the soreness of his hand, sluggishly retrieved his Lupara and frag grenades. He donned on his trillby hat and cocked his shotgun. It hurt to cock it but to hell with the pain. Hell was by the doorstep and he was more than ready to greet it.

“Ah, you lost yourself a finger, Doctor.” Lappland barked as she wiped the blood off her Bowie Knife. “Don’t worry! We have a lot of Siracusan scum to donate a finger for you.”

Doctor smirked at her comment.

“C’mon, Lappland.” He peeked around the table. “We’re taking names, not fingers!”

With that, he aimed down the barrel and pulled the trigger.

Chapter Text

“How many, Doctor?” Lappland clutched onto Doctor’s collar and shook him wide awake from his Eyes of Priestess scan. “How many are coming for tonight’s slaughterfest?”

With his brain still rattling in his head, Doctor clenched onto Lappland’s shoulders to stop her. Groaning to the rude awakening, he was worried that his brain would leak out of his ears. To be shocked awake from his blackout was worse than any hangover; For Doctor, the pain that fried his nerves was akin to being vaporized by the Sun itself. “Twenty… About twenty more are coming.”

“Perfect!” Lappland bounced up to stand triumph behind the makeshift cover. She opened her arms wide for the cowards hiding behind the pillars. “Aren’t you excited, Doctor? No more battle records to drool on; No more drill plans to get drilled on; No more module systems to waste my time! Nothing sharpens a blade better than the killing floor itself!”

He peeked over the table. “I’m sorry to hear that you find my battle records and drill plans usele-”

A guard from the second floor aimed down his sights. Doctor yanked Lappland down. Just in time, the bullet hit the cover and nothing else.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed, Lappla-”

Lappland pasted her hand on his mouth. “Such a killjoy, Doctor. Don’t you get it? Their darkest night, the unholiest of nights, is upon them, and it shall be I to shed my merciless light upon them as I shred through their blackened souls!”

Doctor lowered her hand. “Where do you even learn how to recite these kinds of sermons?”

“Laterano, back when their holiest brigade was hunting both Mostima and I down.”

“... Forget what I asked.”

Doctor peeked again and counted how many lingered behind the pillars. In spite of their lethal arsenal, none dared to make the first move. Not yet, at least. Either they were wise enough not to charge head-on with a demon, or they were waiting on their reinforcements to come down and beef up their offence. Strength in numbers, as it went, and they needed everyone for this hunt.

‘Even so, what’s stopping them from trying to take up a vantage point?’ Doctor ‘s thoughts screamed to not be drowned out by shattering glasses and breaking tables. ‘Outnumbered, outgunned and out of luck.’

He glanced at Lappland and saw why they were not willing to step into the ring with the beast yet. Being next to her had his hair standing on its ends, seeing her hand clasping down on the handle of her knife. It was written all over her face. Her crazed look, as if she was already imagining what she would do to them; Her demented smile, as if she was losing herself to her violent delusions; Her heavy panting, as if she could hardly stay put.

She licked her lips. His blood ran cold and was grateful that he was not her target.

Doctor shifted his attention to the second floor and saw Texas trading with the rest above. She ducked and peeked around cover, trying to land her shots, but the remaining gunmen above were no slouches. If Texas was Exusiai, popping their heads would be a cinch, but alas. Not that Texas was terrible with a gun, but for a shootout? A Siracusan paled in the face of a Laterano. However, what compensated them was their close quarter combat prowess. Knowing this, Schiavo’s men kept their distance, away from her and beyond her Sword Rain’s effective range.

And to fight them with a meagre pistol across a stretch?

Doctor rummaged through his duffel bag and scolded himself for not packing any painkillers. If his blackout was not going to kill him, he would do it himself. “Lappland.”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Please, and I mean this, please don’t disturb me this time.” Even with her nodding, he still was not assured. On top of that, his sanity was thinning out too much. Straining himself like this was never a good idea, but victory was top priority, especially right now. “Eyes of Priestess.”

“Good night, Doctor.” Lappland’s voice faded off into obscurity, like cigarette smoke in the black, blank sky.

Silence seeped from the crumbling walls and leaked into the blank canvas of a landscape. He wiggled his toes and felt the swishing of the shallow water. He took a deep breath.

In.

Out.

Whatever lurked within the boundless darkness, he dreaded. Whatever was coming, he was not ready. He shook his head and welcomed it.

As the black sky above crackled with a lightning storm, where his pinky finger was, agony ravaged his arm. This phantom pain, so much more than pins-and-needles, sunk its razor-sharp nails into his arm. It ascended his forearms, up his upper limb and finally, through his entire body. He collapsed to the floor. He tried to scream out but his throat spasmed. As much as it hurt, writhing was beyond him for his muscles pulsed. His eyes were getting fried but he could not shut it.

“You are so close, Docere.” A voice echoed. Nothing except Doctor himself existed here. Who was here with him? “So close to unearthing the secrets you left behind.”

“You…” Doctor grunted through pain.

“I must warn you. Once you open that door…” He left the words hanging in the air, ignoring the Doctor gritting through the pain and wrestling with the pain to stand back up again. “What horrors will leave you scarred.”

That voice…

“Who are you…” Doctor mustered out a last ditch effort and yapped out.

“You know who I am. However, as of now, Texas and Lappland need your help. I can wait for another few minutes, as I have waited for all these years…”

Doctor shrieked out but he hoisted himself up to his knees.

“Before you go, I’ll let you in on a secret. Don’t forget it now.” A small white spark flashed by the far end of the recesses of his mind. “May 4th, 20XX. (04-05-XX)”

From the white spark, the black sky combusted to an incandescent white. Doctor’s eyes were melting in his sockets. His palms smacked against it as a desperate effort to shield it away. Alas, it was hopeless. Nothing could ever hide from this omniscient light. White flames consumed his sights, but he saw it all within the dancing flames.

‘Thirty…’ Through gritted teeth, he spat it out. Silhouettes were scurrying from every alleyway of the Black Market. All cladded in their Sunday’s best. All armed to the teeth. All itching for a fight. Ethereal numbers erupted from the ground. Alleyways expanded to miles. Faces blurred into oblivion. ‘Five… Minutes…’

Texas’s face flashed before him. Before he could call her out, a crystallised sword stabbed him straight to his heart.

“TEXAS!” He snapped himself awake. Panting, he clutched his body and pinned himself to the makeshift cover.

“Welcome back from your nap, Doctor.” Lappland beamed him a smile. “Any orders?”

His thoughts were in a complete disarray; Lines of action, contingency plans, train of thoughts, all were whispering to Doctor and the clearer they became, the worse his headache grew. He massaged the temple of his head whilst rummaging his duffel bag for a sanity potion.

‘Oh right.’ He loathed the realization. ‘Fuck my life.’

He eyed Lappland and paced his breathing. Loosening his grip, his fingers walked around him before feeling the lovely wooden stock of his Lupara. They caressed it before taking hold. He aimed down his barrel and shot at the chandelier above them. Fragments of glass snowed down. For this brief moment, a weak smile was on him.

“Ha…” A brief giggle emerged from his lips. He tried to stifle it, but it grew into a hearty laugh.

“Doctor?” Lappland, amused, smiled ever so sweetly.

“We fucked up, Lappland.” Doctor looked at her with tired eyes. “Texas was right. We shouldn’t have come tonight. Why did I not think of this casino as an impenetrable fortress? I’m losing it…”

“Doctor…”

“In another life, maybe, we need not be pawns in this war. We need not shed blood for the flowers to grow. I bet they grow better with water.” Doctor hauled his duffel bag onto his lap and took out his goodies: Extra shotgun slugs, grenades of all shapes and sizes, crowbar, ECM jammers, bolt cutter… “Five minutes, Lappland.”

“Until what?”

“Until those pearly white doors of Heaven swing wide open.” Doctor smiled at her as he began juggling two flashbangs. “Reinforcements in five minutes, and all are gunning for us. We are already on borrowed time.” His smile broadened. “Remember back at the cafe where we were enjoying our dandy day before the ambush?”

“Don’t tell me your order is to retreat again.” The fire within her eyes was flickering under the disappointing winter wind.

“Nope. On the contrary.” Doctor cracked a smile as he tossed one to her. With the other flashbang, he plucked the safety pins out but did not let go of the safety lever. That spark of madness in Lappland’s eyes? Doctor peered deeper into her eyes, this maddening abyss, and it gazed back. “Don’t you think it’s high time that we greet Death with a smile?”

He plucked out another safety pin, but this time, it was a smoke grenade. He set it between them.

“Go fucking wild.”

Smoke began to swallow them whole, but even through it, he saw her wicked smile. She started to laugh like a maniac.

“Kill all these sons of bitches for me, Lappland.”

Lappland leaned against the spine of her knife. This thick white smog had Doctor gagging by it and rubbing his eyes. This irritant was more than enough to wake him up.

“Savage evil forces stand in the way of justice…” She recited her sacred prayer. This prayer, a psalm she had written herself, was tattooed in the deepest chambers of her heart. “Master…”

The ravenous flame within her winter eyes raged to an inferno. All of her senses were cleansed of the licking flames before being devoured by the hellfire. It boiled within her. It razed and ravaged her mind. All her earthly shackles were melted away, only for her to be enslaved to her most cardinal sin. Let her wrath and hopelessness guide her for salvation. Let it all go, for it was nigh upon her.

“... Guide the weak…”

Doctor let go of the flashbang’s safety lever. He flung it over the makeshift cover.

“... On their path…”

This ugly feeling. It stirred within her heart and it was about to tear through. Nothing else existed, except this one feeling.

“... In the name of revenge and hatred!”

Bloodlust.

*BANG*.

“TRY RESISTING ME!” Lappland sprinted to the pillars and dove onto the debilitated henchmen. “SHOW ME YOUR MOTIVATION.”

Doctor peeked out of the smoke grenade and witnessed this terror hacking and slashing into all of her adversaries. Bodies plopped down onto the floor. Bloodstains splattered all over the pillars. Intestines were spilled out of their stomachs. Heads were rolling down. All this while, Lappland laughed to her heart’s content without a single care in the world.

And all he could do was smile.

He chucked a smoke grenade towards the lift and bolted for it with his duffel bag. Waiting for it to come down was killing him already.

‘Should I head to the fire escape?’ He shook his head as he reloaded his Lupara. ‘No time, and the bastards would be there already.’

One of Schiavo’s henchmen from the pillars screamed and charged towards Doctor.

By pure instinct, he flicked to him and blasted him.

The henchman flew over a few metres before his lifeless corpse hit the ground hard. Blood gushed out, painting the golden floors with a twinkling rich red.

Even with that, Doctor kept his barrel pointed at him. It quivered. Maybe it was the adrenaline that overclocked him to fight-or-flight. Maybe it was seeing a corpse up close and personal, grotesque and mutilated. No, that was not it. He had seen countless cadavers back in the medical department when auditing and processing for Kal’tsit’s experiments. This was different. He had pulled the trigger onto many, but all were by his command, not by his hand. He himself was responsible for many deaths and nothing would ever wash the blood from his hands. Was there any difference?

“So…” He broke open his Lupara shotgun and reloaded it again. “This is how killing feels like.”

Was it guilt invading him? He felt his run cold, but it was not out of terror. He wanted to smirk at it, but instead he scoffed at it; Maybe that was not the right call. Was he supposed to feel his stomach churning and twisting? Was he supposed to lose himself to the madness? All this while, he only knew what a murder was, but never had he felt its weight.

Amidst the chaos and disorder sprawling within the casino, he scanned for Lappland. What was once her white coat, it was now crimson red. She laughed and laughed, demanding for more scars and bruises. Flinging over tables and parrying away attacks, her blade hacked into them like a merciless butcher in a slaughterhouse. Now, and only now, he understood what it was like fighting her. Her maddening laughter echoing down the hallways; Her brutal slashings ripping out screams from her victims; Her demonic wrath, and how it plagued this arena.

Terror.

As freezing as the deepest tundras far north.

Nothing could stand against this unrelenting blizzard.

The elevator dinged and it opened. Doctor stepped in and pressed for the second floor.

Before the doors closed, the last glance he took was Lappland glancing back at him with a sincere smile, a smile much more tame, if not tender.

===

*Ding*.

“Second floor.” The automated voice spoke from the elevator speakers. “Please enjoy your stay here at the Golden Goose Casino.”

The elevator doors opened. Lo and behold, right in front of Doctor was Texas pointing her pistol at him, only for her to be utterly dumbfounded.

“Doctor?!”

“Texas! Sup, babe!”

A bullet grazed his trilby hat and hit the back wall of the elevator. Texas rushed and tugged him to take cover behind the column railings and tables. “What are you doing here?! I thought you were supporting Lappland downstairs.”

“C’mon. I mean, it’s Lappland. Support, no support, it doesn’t exactly matter to her as long as she could wrap her hands around someone’s neck.” Doctor shrugged his shoulders before unpacking his duffel bag. “Besides, you’re pinned down, so here I am! Moral support, immoral support, firepower support, whatever you need? I got it.”

“Immoral… What are you even trying to say?” Texas’s ears flickered as she stared him down.

“C’mon, Texas. Whatever you need, I’m here to help.” Doctor showcased his arsenal. On one hand, his grenades dangled by their safety pins. On the other, he waved at her with his Lupara.

Texas rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Unbelievable. Your sanity’s depleted.”

“Yea… I did.”

Texas took a fragment of a mirror and peeked around the corners with it. Turning it at different angles helped her pinpoint the gunmen’s locations. That was, until one peeked out of his cover and shot it down. The mirror fragment shattered, with some of its remnants slicing her thumb.

“Fuck.” She gritted her teeth as she began pressing down on it.

Doctor retrieved some bandages from his duffel bag and snatched her hand. “Can’t be shooting with that wound, can you?”

“Doctor, what the…” Her confusion became murkier. She plucked her wrist out of his grasp before applying pressure again. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Texas.”

“Fuck’s sake, Doctor.”

“Alright, fine.” Doctor tossed away the bandages and prepared some smoke grenades. “It’s not like I hate seeing you get hurt.”

Texas’s glare was enough to melt him. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll… I’ll just shut up now.”

“Thank you.” Texas unloaded her pistol and counted two bullets left in her magazine. With no nearby bodies to loot up, she was about to run out of firepower.

A wind chime rang downstairs.

Texas saw one of the gunmen peeking over the railings, taking aim at something downstairs. She followed his line of sight.

It was Lappland he was aiming for.

Texas aimed at his head. She snatched the trigger, but she saw his barrel jerk by the flash of his shot first.

She was one second too late.

Lappland groaned out loud downstairs. Her body crumbled to her knees, quaking as she felt the bullet wound digging into her back. Rotating her torso or even swinging around her limbs would shoot up the pain throughout her body. She screamed as she commanded her arm to aim her knife down to the bullet wound to try fishing it out.

One of the henchmen took his chance. He roundhouse-kicked her square on her face. She flew to her side. Texas fired again, wasting the last bullet on her assailant. He fell flat on his face and bled soon after.

A second passed. Lappland remained still.

Not a squirm out of her.

Not even a twitch.

Nothing.

Doctor looked at Texas. She stood there like a statue. He saw her eyes darting back and forth, processing what had happened. At the corner of his eye, he saw a silhouette swinging around his cover and aiming down at them. He yanked her down before her head got blown off.

“Texas?!” Doctor rushed to her front and shook her by the shoulders. “Texas?! Talk to me. Are you okay?”

Texas’s face contorted with rage as she kept a thousand-yard stare. Her fingers clutched hard against the pistol’s grip. Furrowed brows, white knuckles, very deep breathing with her shoulders rising and falling to the rhythm, it all told Doctor of a side he had never seen.

“Texas…” Doctor’s hands slid away from her shoulders and he wondered what to even say to her. He took a tiny peek around the cover and saw the gunmen creeping in.

He slapped her square on her face. Her hand rubbed her cheek and her glare transferred to him.

“Snap out of it.” Doctor returned the glare. “I need you right now. Please. Snap out of it.”

For this brief second, nothing beyond them existed. All they saw was each other.

“I can’t believe it too, but we can’t mourn now.” He spoke out with each word weighing him down. “We will avenge her death after this, I promise, but we have to keep pressing on.”

“She’s not dead.” Texas growled, “She… She can’t be.”

“Texas!” Doctor shouted out, “I… I’m sorry…”

He hung head and contemplated what to say. What would even come close for comfort at this point? It did not matter, did it?

He plucked out the safety pins of two smoke grenades and tossed both at each side, at a considerable distance. He did not wish to pop it right in between them. He wanted to be there for Texas, possibly at this one final moment.

Doctor crossed his legs and sat before her.

To see her mourning for Lappland was out of character, at least at first.

In spite of Lappland’s pestering, Texas never walked away. Never would she uprightly ignore her, let alone detest her. No matter how many times they were at each other’s throats, they would always be together. Their pasts were a mystery to him but he came to a simple revelation between them.

“It hurts to be a lone wolf, huh, Texas?”

His partner glanced at him.

“To lose your other half like this, it's as if you lost a part of yourself…”

She nodded.

“... You know, Lappland would go the extra mile to be your friend again.”

Her ears flickered.

“When she was still my assistant, she would go to lengths about how she wanted to understand me and the rest of the operators. Doing so, to her, meant that she’d understand you too.” Doctor cracked a weak smile, “Texas this, Texas that. She always loved to talk about you.”

Through the small gaps between the column railings, Doctor peeked through and saw Lappland still lying down there. Whatever henchmen dared to approach her body, they debated within each other on who would be handling her.

“She knew her time was close, but she always believed that you would come back to your former self, whatever that meant.” Doctor looked at Texas, who was still staring at the floor. “And I don’t think she was wrong, was she, Texas?”

Texas squinted her eyes before she shut it tight. She swiped her tears away before clenching her jaw to stiffen her upper lip.

Only one emotion emerged on her face. Unlike Lappland, it was neither hysteria nor insanity. It was the same flame raging within her eyes, but this was different. It was not an inferno or a wildfire terrorizing or wrecking havoc to all on her warpath. This emotion did not emerge from wrath or hopelessness. She was neither vicious nor savage. Instead of an inferno, in her eyes, she was a blade that shall cut through anything; She was a bullet that shall pierce through any armor; She was a scythe that shall do what must be done.

Her precise focus, dissuaded by none; Her devoted determination, forever dedicated to her cause; Her perfect sense of concentration, sharpened and honed.

She was Death incarnate. No one could ever stand before her.

“Doctor.”

She stood back up and crystallized her swords. On both hands, she wielded a blade with many others hovering above her.

“Stay close to me.”

“Roger.” Doctor pulled a flashbang’s safety pin and let it cook.

The smoke began to fade away. Behind them were the gunmen with readied aim. What greeted them was a flashbang and afterwards a blinding white.

A blood-curdling scream erupted from the ground floor. As Texas slashed and redirected fire onto her, Doctor stopped in his tracks and saw what the commotion was about.

“Do you… Really think that was enough… To knock me down?!” Lappland, with great effort, forced herself up. “I’ve clawed myself out of hell, and do you think I will stop here?! Hell hath fury and thou shalt rejoice for salvation is upon thee!”

On bloodied knees, her bowie knife scratched against the golden floor.

“WONDERFUL!” Whilst kneeling, she opened her arms as if she welcomed the angels descending upon her to take her home. “NOW MY DESIRE TO TRAMPLE ALL OF YOU IS EVEN STRONGER!”

A henchman cut in and swung his pipe against her head. Instead of falling back down, she smirked. Nothing slipped out of her lips. Only a smile sufficed.

His pipe slipped out of his fingers.

She rose to her feet and, step by step, walked towards him.

He slipped on a puddle of blood and crashed hard. Even so, he was desperately trying to crawl away.

And yet, the looming shadow grew bigger and bigger upon him, with the casino fading darker and darker.

“TO GIVE US A HEART ATTACK, ONLY TO RISE BACK FROM THE GRAVE.” Doctor exclaimed, “THAT’S THE LAPPLAND I KNOW.”

Texas scoffed before tugging him by the collar. “Let’s go.”

Even with her cold exterior, Doctor swore he saw a stray smile off her.

Advancing forward to midway of the second floor, the remaining last two gunmen guarded the entrance to the study room. Tossing up a line of smoke grenades, Doctor and Texas slithered and weaved through posh seats, bar counters, tray tables and decor. Bullets breezed through the clouds, trying their luck and hoping for a stray bullet to land. Alas, they were out of luck.

Texas was, too.

A few meters were between her smoke screens and the remaining guards. All exposed with no possible cover except the railings and that was not enough for her to take a gamble. Only chances she would be playing was whether she would be unscathed and she had a dead man’s hand on that.

“Any more smokes, Doctor?”

“Nope. I ran out. Only ones I have left are these.” He showcased some fragmentation grenades.

A light bulb popped above her head. “Perfect. Throw it at them.”

“Got it.”

Doctor pulled the safety pin of a fragmentation grenade and let it cook. “One thousand… Two thousand…”

He hurled it towards the general direction.

“Grenade thrown, Tex-” She vaulted herself over the table. “TEXAS?”

A crystallized sword materialised spontaneously and darted straight for the grenade. Texas bounced off a seat and out of the smoke clouds. All were invited to take their shots at her. In spite of that, her eyes were fixated onto the very tip of the sword’s tip.

Those two were out of range for her Sword Rain, but she had another solution to that problem. Raising two fingers, she calculated the distance between the tip of the blade and the grenade. Inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, millimeter by millimeter, until it was a strand as thin as a hair strand. Disintegrating the sword one second too early will let the grenade roll next to her. Disintegrating it one second too late and the grenade’s casing shall be pierced, and who knows what happens next?

She did not fear death. She had run away from many, such as her forsaken family, forgotten friends or frustrating memories. Not from death, however. She had been waiting for the knock on her door this whole time.

Her two fingers flicked down.

Her crystallized sword nicked the grenade’s casing and disintegrated at the point of contact. The grenade, in turn, propelled forward.

Before the pack of Schiavo’s guards could register, let alone react to it, the grenade greeted them right next to their ears.

*BOOM*.

The casino was shaken to its core.

Nothing else remained after the dissipating clouds.

“Nice one, Texas!” Doctor cheered her on behind her.

Advancing forward, they reached Schiavo's study room. Texas rained her swords down onto the two wooden doors and booted it open before taking cover again.

“I’ll be joining Lappland downstairs. Retrieve whatever you need and give us the command to retreat when you’re done.” She looked down at Lappland and popped a Pepero into her mouth. “We overstayed our welcome.”

“Got it. All the Peperos in the world are on me, Texas.” Doctor gave her the thumbs up, but no reply came back. She hurried out of his sight. Shrugging it off, he turned away from the havoc outside and began combing the study room.

Behold, before him, was the study room.

From where he stood, he embraced this semblance of order and structure. Taking a breath of relief, he let himself fall deeper into this tapestry-like study. Out of those bay windows by the back of the room exhibited the Black Market. How it dazzled outside would shred away any stress from a day of work. The centerpiece of the room, basking in the dazzle, was Schiavo’s executive study table.

Brushing his fingers against the polished table, he cradled the smooth petals of the irises resting in their vases on the table-top. He was almost impressed by the prominent emblem of Siracusa embedded by the front of the table, if it was not for the mess left. Documents were scattered. Books were sprawled all over. Amongst the mess was a photo frame. Doctor raised it up to take a closer look.

Within the aged photo, Schiavo was smiling. It was not the smile of a snake but instead of a human’s; A grand smile that would brighten anyone’s day. It was funny to see him without his streaks of white amongst his black hair, or any crow’s feet, or the scar across the ridge of his nose. What was funnier was him cradling someone much younger in his arms. A very young teenager. Doctor could see that her shirt was too baggy for her own good. In spite of it, she glowed up as bright as Schiavo with her sun-kissed skin and her auburn brown hair. Both of them were crammed in this small photo and, if he were to guess, they would not have it any other way.

Doctor let the photo frame down and raked through the documents. Keywords amongst the official invoices and handwritten letters popped up before him: ‘Outstanding hospital fees’, ‘Grade 3 Originium Infection’, ‘Praying for the best, fratello’ and a few others. Doctor figured out where Schiavo was, but the puzzle pieces pieced themselves together, and he felt his heart sinking.

Lappland’s laugh was heard even from the study room and that was enough for him to snap out of this bleak feeling.

‘When we meet again, maybe we could discuss other arrangements, Schiavo.’ Doctor shifted his attention away from the desk and flung his sights elsewhere.

Beyond that, bookshelves and gallery frames were by the walls of the study room. By one bookshelf stood a small combination safe.

“May 4th XX, huh?” Doctor dialed it into the safe. The safe disengaged its locks and the door swung a bit open.

His heart beated louder. Even up until now, he did not understand the significance of the date from the recesses of his mind. How did it even work? What did it all mean? Maybe, just maybe, the answer was behind the safe’s door. He hesitated but got the better of himself. He swung it open.

‘What the…’ He was bewildered to see a huge glass fragment inside. ‘This has to be a joke.’

He retrieved it and inspected it from all angles, but nothing special struck out to him. It was a regular old fragment, as if someone had smashed a mirror and kept one shard for some odd reason. No matter what angle he took, nothing hit him except the tiny bit of dried blood by the pointy tip of the glass shard.

“Dried blood.” Doctor was amused by it. “It was when I was stabbed…”

‘Wait.’ He was shell-shocked. Those words leaked out of his lips as naturally as he breathed. ‘When was I stabbed?’

It began to levitate on his hands and crushed into itself, almost imploding. Cracking and crackling into life, it began to crumble with all the tiny glass splinters orbiting around it. It vibrated and convulsed as its body became a metallic crystal with miniature stalagmites sprouting out of it as fast as it returned into its core. It sounded like glass shattering, only to be reversed and to be repeated over and over again.

A curious finger from him tapped onto the middle of its body.

Like before, the blinding white light engulfed sights.

His legs buckled. Collapsing onto the floor, he fell back into the darkness he was familiar with. However, the darkness began to dissipate and gave way to a scene by the beach. He saw the magenta skies above him with the marigold sun piercing through the endless horizon. He felt the lapping waves and the coarse sand below him. He smelt the salt wafting. He heard the humming of a woman standing by the sea in front of him. He also heard someone walking from his left and he could not raise his gaze to see how it was. Eventually, the figure stood before him.

He wore his robes.

He lacked a pinky too.

The figure crouched down and smiled at Doctor.

He had the same smile as him.

‘Sleep well now.’ His voice.. It did not come from the doppelganger, however. The doppelganger did not open his mouth. Instead it came from the sky. ‘We have much to catch up on once you awake.’

Doctor could not dispel this. He simply fell asleep.

No more dreams.

No more nightmares.

Darkness had returned to his eyes.

Nothing more.

===

“MORE!” Lappland plunged her blade into the throat of another. The unfortunate victim tried to claw his way out of it with his fingers, but by every second, he grew weaker and weaker. “JUST A LITTLE BIT MORE!”

She forced out her blade from his throat and slashed behind her towards another assailant. The swing had her buckling to her knees. She took deep breaths to get her breath back. Only now did she feel her lethargy slowing her down. “Ha… How many more are you?”

More emerged from the shadows. Swarming in like cockroaches, it seemed that reinforcements have finally arrived.

“All the more…” Choppy breaths cut her sentence up. “... To kill.”

A henchman charged towards her and as much as she relied on Sundial to resist the hit, she had tested her luck too many times and she was close to her limits. If only she could muster up at least a bit more to dodge this.

A shadow swooped down before Lappland alongside a barrage of crystallized swords raining down on the henchman. Skewered and crucified on the spot, the pincushion before her twitched and bled out.

“My guardian angel has arrived.” Lappland coughed that out. Seeing Texas standing ever so defiantly against the crowd stirred Lappland to her feet. It had her titillated.

“Here.” Texas crystallized two swords for Lappland to take.

Lappland cracked a smile before accepting it. She swung it around and pointed down the tip towards the crowd outside. “Too light and thin for my liking. It’s as if I’m swinging air.”

“Pass them back and go back to using your bowie knife then.”

“Too cold, Texas. I’m not complaining here.” Lappland giggled to herself, “It’s simply too tasteful and graceful for my style, but I’ll see things from your side for once.”

As more came crawling into the casinos, be it armed to the teeth or those limping away, the two wolves eyed down and fell in love with the smell of the game around them. Their hearts, for once, resonated together. It blazed into a beautiful melody and that was enough to grant Lappland her second breath.

“Just like old times, huh, Texas? Let’s give them a great Siracusan welcome.”

Next to her stood by a familiar Texas, a Texas she yearned for all this while.

The day was upon her. She could feel it.

Chapter Text

Waves came and went, to and fro. It lapped on and on, reaching out for him before returning to the vastless ocean. Seasalt lingered in the air. It whispered to him about how it wanted to stay for one more second. Sand grazed against his fingers. It was rough against his weight, but his fingers dug into it.

Aroused from his sleep, Doctor cracked his eyes open.

Instead of the magenta sunset, what greeted him was the black sea beneath the brilliant indigo glow of an evening. Neither the singing woman nor the mysterious doppelganger waited around for him. Not that he was in a rush, however; He laid flat on the sand from his side and was awestruck of the skies above. Right above him was the beautiful silver moon with a sprinkle of stars across the royal purple canvas. If he were to peer deeper into this tapestry, he might see the cosmos and galaxies. Any more, and maybe he could touch them.

How long had he been asleep? He felt refreshed, as if he popped a fresh sanity potion. It was a first for him to not be riddled with murky dreams and blurry nightmares. Instead, it was as if he was cradled by the darkness to a profound slumber. What he would do to have them more often…

Whilst hating the idea, he grunted as he sat back up.

“Few more minutes…” He cut himself some slack. “Few more minutes, then I’ll be up.”

His groggy eyes casted its sights to the horizon. He puffed out a breath and smiled at the simple view before him. No boats to break the horizon; No planes to buzz around like fireflies; No other soul to disrupt the sea; If anything, he could gaze at the view and stay planted in this beautiful painting. A simple request, but not a bad one.

“If only Texas was here to see this.” Her name leaked out of his lips. “She would love this change of pace. She would have been beautiful here…”

‘Wait.’

He jumped out of his sandy seat.

“Texas!”

Where was he?

Obviously not at the Golden Goose casino with Texas and Lappland. Where else would he be? How did he even get here in the first place?

To his left was the rest of the beach with some beach houses up the coast. To his right was a pier.

“Where am I?” He hated to admit it out loud, but he could not put a finger on this place. For some odd reason, he felt like he was here before.

“It seems that you’re finally awake, Docere. You took a while.” His own voice spoke out to him…?

Doctor flicked his sights behind him. By the washed-up log sat a spitting image of himself. His robes, his missing pinky, his hair, even his posture, all were nailed down perfectly. What set him off was the ethereal aura around him, as if he was a soul waiting to pass on to what was to come. The apparition bowed his head.

“You were enjoying your nap and I can’t help but let you sleep in. It must be nice.”

“... Who the hell are you?”

“Make a guess, dumbass.”

“I mean, I figured that you’re me, but what exactly are you? Some figment of my imagination or…?”

“Wow. First time meeting up, and that’s how you view me?” His apparition scoffed, “I’m insulted.”

“I’m sorry, but what do you want me to say? It’s not everyday that I get to meet my doppelganger.”

“At least you got that part partially correct.”

“Still have absolutely no idea what you are or where I am at currently. If anything, I might be lucid dreaming right now.”

“Not exactly.” Doctor’s apparition stood up and approached him, to which Doctor himself took a step back. “Allow me to introduce the concept of ‘Vigilo’.”

“... Excuse me?”

“As of now, you’re experiencing neither a dream nor a nightmare. In fact, what you have awakened to are your memories from your past life, before your amnesia has taken you captive.”

“I…” Doctor blinked his eyes at the statement. “... My past life?”

“Yep.” His apparition clapped for Doctor. “You finally have a piece of your past in your possession. Congratulations.”

“... This is what I’ve always wanted.” Doctor cracked a wide smile. “I’ve done it!”

“I wouldn’t be rejoicing right now, if I were you.”

Doctor saw his apparition’s smile fading away. “Why?”

“... Have you ever thought about why you were struck with amnesia?”

“What do you mean? My prolonged coma in the sarcophagus back in Chernobog, due to fatal injuries sustained, was what caused it.”

“Nope, not at all. Remember that Kal’tsit argued against that theory.”

“With all due respect to her, complications were to be expected, let alone occur, when it comes to an extended coma on top of me bleeding out and on Death’s door.”

“Of course. No argument there. Still, if even Kal’tsit, our Officer-In-Charge overseeing Rhodes Island Medical Department, says that it was not caused by the coma, then I’d trust her words.”

“What, then, would you propose on what inflicted my amnesia?”

“It was probably Priestess’s doing.”

“Priestess…?”

Long wavy brown hair fluttered to the untroubled seabreeze. Pale purple eyes, like dazzling fluorites, peeked over her shoulders, only to smile back at him. That smile, small yet tender, crashed upon him harder than any flood or lightning bolt. The woman singing by the beach, dancing to the carefree waves, he recalled her by the shallow waves. Bells were chiming on and on in his head about her, and yet, she was a burning memory to him; Her identity was nothing more than that magenta sunset before his restful slumber. He had witnessed that magenta sunset countless times, and yet it was nothing more to him than a view.

“Who… Who’s Priestess?”

His apparition’s shoulders slumped to the question. His eyes were averted away to the sands beneath his feet.

“... You really have forgotten all of us, huh?”

Could anyone ever describe a character with a few words? Was there ever such a simple person?

Doctor himself knew as to why no answer returned to his question.

Peering into his apparition, he wondered where had the time gone. It all trickled away from their grasps. Nostalgia, this beautiful poison, seeped into his apparition. He knew. Out of all the times he had stared out his window into the boundless night, he knew that dejected look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I wish I knew what to say right now, but I don’t. Priestess… My past… You… I’ve forgotten everything.”

“I don’t blame you… It is to be expected of an amnesiac. However, I believe that with some triggers and revisits to the past, I’m certain that you will be able to remember who you were. Back to the question, do you know why you were inflicted with amnesia?”

“Again, I don’t know. It’s like you’re insinuating that someone gave me…” Doctor’s train of thought was derailed by the sudden realization. “... Amnesia.”

His apparition nodded. “Correct.”

“Why would anyone inflict amnesia upon me? Maybe it was that ‘Priestess’ you were referring to?”

“Beats me. I doubt it was her, but the chances are there. I wouldn’t cross her out of the list, but if anything, whoever inflicted this ailment surely was commanded to do so.”

“By who?”

“Who else? You.”

“Me?! No way. That’s… That’s absurd.”

“Not at all. Think of it this way: Back when the Tower of Babel was operating, before Rhodes Island succeeded its position, you hosted many titles: the esteemed neurologist, originium researcher, field commander and so much more. All admired you and were willing to throw their lives away at your beckon. With all that being said, no one would otherwise think of sabotaging you, let alone be able to do so. Why, then, would anyone wish amnesia upon you? Additionally, why do you think I issued the command for it?”

“I issued the command?! I… I can’t even begin to fathom why would I go ahead with basically a virtual suicide.”

“I can. However, once you have learnt the truth, you’ll begin to understand why, like Texas, you’d run away from it.”

“... How would you know?”

“Again, I am you, but more so, I am your past self. We are but two different minds, conjoined in one body. I am your relic and you are my curator. Only issue with that statement is…” His apparition snickered to himself, almost defeated by the thought of it, “... Like our memories, I was to be ingrained in the passage of time, to be forgotten and remain as such.”

“Why? What were we running away from in the first place?”

“We have one too many reasons as to why you buried your past. However, tonight’s the night for a story.” His apparition removed a ring from his right hand and flung it at him. Catching it, Doctor watched it sparkled under the evening sky with a crimson red. “For now…”

He sauntered towards Doctor.

Doctor fidgeted. He tried to budge his body, but it disobeyed him. His legs will not move and his body shall not fall. He was frozen.

“... See it through my own eyes.”

His apparition entered his body.

This paradigm shift within his body was nothing he felt before. This feeling of being both bedridden and yet thriving with vigor, it disoriented him; He was no longer the driver but instead the passenger of his own body. His eyes were merely a projector and he could only watch what was shown on the big screen before him. Where was he exactly? He had no idea. All he knew was that he was the audience to the play that was about to begin.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve felt alive.” ‘Doctor’, or more so his apparition, cracked his neck. “Now, what was I doing here again?”

‘Doctor’ checked his watch.

“7.39pm. Right. I needed to catch a breather.”

He climbed up the stairs and strolled down the beach promenade.

===

May 4th, 20XX. 7.45pm

6 months and 1 week before 11th November, 20XX.

Siracusa.

XX years ago.

‘How could I have forgotten all of this?’ Pondering on it, he began walking down a literal sense of memory lane.

It had been ages since he had lost himself to the colors of Siracusa. Even with sparse street lights stretched out the boardwalk, those rustic yet eclectic Venetian shops and casetas beamed out to him. Unlike the preying skyscrapers and haunting high-rise buildings, they were short and stubby. Easy on the eyes, just how he liked it, and he would always fall in love with the vibrant rainbow every time he chanced upon it. Now, if only he was walking in the chitchat of tourists and locals would he be absorbed into the scene. What would sweetened the view even further would be the taste of al dente pasta or the smell of fresh bread. If only, however, they were not closed for the night.

How was it that he was embroiled into the strifes of this tasteful land?

‘Siracusa…’ He gazed towards the sea and took refuge in the sight of swaying palm trees. ‘Almost like Siesta, but with a bit more ‘cut-throat’ and ‘back-alley’ in it.’

Aye, if only he had an express ticket to Siesta right now.

‘No rest for the wicked.’ He groaned.

A sharp stabbing pain ruptured through his body. Almost collapsing to his knees, he hugged himself.

“Fuck…” He grunted through gritted teeth, “What was that?”

Lodged within his abdomen was a glass shard, the same shard he saw back in the Golden Goose casino.

“I was stabbed. Right… Who stabbed me?” He racked through his brain, dusted off the cobwebs and oiled his gears to get turning. Alas, nothing came to mind. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll patch it up back in my shop.”

If only he had a few more minutes to bask in the view, but he had other pressing matters.

“Here we are.”

Finally, he had arrived at his shop’s storefront. Its existence insulted the vibrant neighborhood; Banal and trite, with no color or even a brand name for itself. Just another brick-and-mortar commercial property to the common eye. He fished his keys out of his pockets and singled one out.

A gun was cocked behind him.

“Turn around.” The voice, smokey and coarse, demanded.

“... If it’s money you want, I’m sorry to say but I have very little to offer.”

“It’s not money I’m after. It’s you.” His voice was tempered, with each word having weight. “Turn. Around.”

Obeying the command, ‘Doctor’ pivoted bit by bit so as to not agitate the assailant any further. However, his worries began to melt as a familiar face shone under the moonlight. How often had he seen that tattered cloak or his ash-gray suit? He had teased him countless times during their assemblies and after-hour parties. To be greeted with those crow’s feet past the dull barrel of a Colt pistol forced a smirk out of ‘Doctor.’

“It’s been awhile, Suomi. What brings you here in this fine hour?”

“Don’t play coy, traitor. I need answers.”

“For what question, exactly?”

“My informants notified me of your collusion with the other Siracusan families, especially with ‘Mr Big’ himself. Instigating an arms race within the Siracusan mafioso, especially at this huge of a scale… You’re overstepping your boundaries as the mafia’s associate. I should do them a favor and shoot you down where you stand.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Suomi fished some polaroids from his pockets.

In some of them, ‘Doctor’ was shaking hands with many capos from different familias. In others, shipments, consignments, caches, all and more were under his name. “Firearms, explosives, poisons, catalysts… The list goes on. Why?”

“I’m impressed. I never thought anyone would catch me in the act, but I’ve gravely underestimated you.”

Suomi aimed down the barrel to ‘Doctor’s head. “Don’t even think about sweet-talking me out of this. Now, tell me why you are threatening the very stability of Siracusa itself.”

“Don’t worry, dear friend. I’m more than happy to comply and divulge my intentions. However…” ‘Doctor’ gestured at the lodged glass shard in him. “... I need to help myself.”

Suomi shook his head and let out a sigh, before holstering his Colt pistol. “Unbelievable. How did you manage to sustain that?”

“I don’t know, and I might never know, but what’s more important is getting it out of me.”

With that, ‘Doctor’ unlocked his door. He bowed and offered his esteemed guest to step in first, in spite of the dull pain spiking in his body bit by bit.

“Age before beauty, my good Suomi.”

“You first.”

“It’s not like I’d be able to run away from you.”

“Classic sales pitch to lead me into some traps, I presume?”

“Touche.” Doctor straightened himself out and waltzed in. “But wrong. Why would I entrap my own home?”

He flicked the light switch on. LED light strips flashbanged them and dust pierced his nostrils. The stale air, alongside the stuffiness within the shop, was enough to turn Suomi off. Not ‘Doctor’, however. It was home.

“Come right in, Suomi.” Taking a step in, his guest marveled at how barren it was. Shelves were stacked with unlabelled tin cans, cereal boxes and empty glass jars. Smacked right in the middle was the elephant of the room. His guest let out a sharp sigh at the sight of supply caches stacked on top of each other. By the opposite end was the cash register and an empty, yet quaint, display case.

“Feel free to feel right at home.” ‘Doctor’ shambled on towards the door next to the cash register. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

“I’m not here to drink.”

“C’mon, Suomi. Don’t be a stranger now; We’ve known each other for a few months. If anything, we’re good friends at this point.”

“Since when?”

“Since I was inducted into the mafioso as an external vendor. You’d always come around the shop to get tip-offs on certain targets.”

“That was until I found out you were conspiring in the shadows.” His fingers brushed against the dusty surface of the caches.

“For a good reason too.” ‘Doctor’ pointed at the wooden cache next to Suomi. “Right. That one is yours.”

“This?”

“Yep. It’s state-of-the-art. Consider it as a gesture of goodwill, and my final gift to you before the fireworks start popping off.” Suomi retrieved back his hand, unaware of the implications. “Come. I’m heading to the back.”

With Suomi following, Doctor finally returned to his quarters. A small bedroom, like a studio apartment. Preen and pristine, it was a far cry from the boring store, with a lush white single bed, a makeshift stove and a small fridge. No radios or televisions existed here; The only luxuries was the small bedside table with a teapot and cups. ‘Doctor’, with much effort, knelt down and lugged out a first aid kit below his bed. He plopped on the wooden floor and showcased the glass shard. “A little help?”

Suomi knelt and pinched on the glass shard. “Ready?”

A miserable smile answered.

Only for it to vanish as fast as the glass shard being yoinked out of him.

Gritting and grunting, ‘Doctor’ dumped a generous amount of antiseptic around the wound before patching himself up with a sterile gauze.

“Thank God…” Doctor sighed out, “... And of course, thank you.”

His guest rolled his eyes. “To be residing in your own store is asking for some molotovs your way.”

“Still, you have to admit that it’s not too shabby, right? It has its own snug aura and it helps cut costs around corners.”

“Yet, if one rat snitches you out, you’d lose both in an instant. It’s illegal to settle in a business.”

“That’s why I stay low. That was, until you unearthed my recent activities. All I can hope now is that you won’t rat me out of the goodness of your heart.” ‘Doctor’ smirked at him.

“I’m more shocked to know that you were not ratted out any sooner by anyone else.”

“What can I say? I have loyal customers who would die for some extra ‘oomph’ to their arsenal.”

“How did you even procure them?”

“I have a merchant back in Columbia for the matter. Ever heard of the name ‘Cannot Goodenough’?”

Suomi’s eyes widened. “... I’ve heard rumors circulating, but if that’s the case, then how? Cannot is nothing more than a deranged merchant lost in the heart of the Sargon rainforests.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. Although, I don’t blame you. Hardly anyone stopped by to get to know him due to his… ‘Peculiarities’. However, his odd antiques are nothing short of remarkable, let alone his extensive methods of collecting them.”

“How did you even manage to come in contact with him?”

“Expedition gone wrong in the Sargon wilderness. By pure luck, I met him. He fancied how I conducted myself and, while he doesn’t want to be directly involved, he wishes to spark some changes in the world. Fortunately for him, he now has a figurehead in current affairs.”

“And what changes does he speak of, exactly?”

‘Doctor’ pushed himself off his bed. He went to pour some tea for himself, before offering some to Suomi. His guest declined.

If only the tea was warm, but such blissful luxuries in life were beyond him. He sipped a good mouthful and felt his shoulders easing up.

“What I’m about to share with you might be considered blasphemous, if not madness. However, with reference to our frequent information dealings, I trust that we can see eye-to-eye on the matter.”

Heading back to the main lobby of the shop, ‘Doctor’ retrieved his crowbar next to the cash register.

“Excuse me.” He wedged it into the cache and popped it open.

There it was, residing by the crate foam.

It twinkled at both of them. The mere sight of it had Suomi’s hair standing.

“Feel free to inspect it.” Doctor invited him to be drawn into it. “This is my farewell gift to you after all.”

His guest went ahead and rested a sword on his hands.

Its monstrous length betrayed its weight. Lighter than a feather, yet longer than a greatsword, even a child could swing to their heart’s content. Its hilt confused his fingers, as the tsukamaki wrappings were not coiling around the hilt. Instead, it was a part of it. Tiny gaps in the hilt let his skin sink into it and yet it never nicked off his skin. Its cross-guard was the strangest of them all; Who would design the cross-guard to be a hollow semi circle? Following along the semicircle structure were very fine linings and shallow holes.

Unconventional.

Unnatural.

Mystifying.

Who crafted this? He knew no blacksmiths on Siracusa who would dream of this. Where was it from? Lungmen? Higashi? Yan? Iberia?

“... Where did you get this?”

“It might come as a surprise for you, but the answer to that eludes me too. Don’t bother asking me about its inner machinations or its schematics. However, let me sell it to you.”

“Sell it to me? Why would I need this…” For the lack of a better word, he fell silent.

“I remember during our private drinking sessions, you mentioned a young girl and how she reminds you of the thick snowy blankets of Lappland.”

Suomi squared his shoulders upon hearing about her. “What about her?”

“Her salvation resides within these two blades.” He tapped onto the other blade that rested in the cache. “Many combatants often are attuned to their chosen armament; Lateranos with their holy firearms, Kazimierz with their enchanted knightly swords, Leithanien with their catalysts and many more. However, all obey one simple rule: Arts are what distinguish them. Funny enough, therein resides one simple flaw: Their chosen armament could never size up to their Arts.”

‘Doctor’ took another sip of his tea at his leisure, before leaving it on the empty showcase.

“Every armament and ordnance will always suffer under the simple rule of attrition. Lateranos? Extremely high maintenance and scholarly knowledge on said topic are the prices to pay for their firearms. Kazimierz? Blades will always dull in due time. Cutting it short, no one could acclimatize their armament to their full potential. That was…” ‘Doctor’ pointed at the blade. “... Until that came.”

“What does this have to do with her?” His tone was flat, but his grip around the hilt tightened.

“What if we can craft an armament that not just accommodates, but amplifies the combatant’s Arts? What if we can design an armament that not just taps into their Arts, but encaptures them to their core? I believe those blades will unlock your foster daughter’s potential.”

“She does not need handouts, especially from you.”

“Think of it as an early birthday gift from her uncle. Based on my field research and literature reviews, Originium infection plays a part in how one’s Arts manifest; The more dire of an infection, the more their Arts manifest. I theorize, and I stress out on the ‘theoretical’ aspect of my guess here, that your foster daughter may be the best candidate for this.”

“Disgusting.” Suomi barked at him, “I will not use her as a guinea pig or an instrument of war. She’s a mere child.”

“I’m not implying that she shall be a test subject. More so, I want to grant this gift as a means for her to protect herself.”

“Why?”

‘Doctor’ took hold of the other blade and pointed at Suomi.

A blade only lives to fulfill a singular purpose. It lives to kill. Blood shall be spilt by it and more shall come. ‘Doctor’ knew that enough. Commanding and overseeing countless battles had the stench of bloodthirst on his tailcoats. Even with that, a purpose could serve another purpose. A blade shall kill, but for what? Would it be for revenge? Would it be for justice? As the slick body of the blade gleamed under the lights, it reflected a crystal clear image of ‘Doctor’. His eyes were devoid of the warmth or empathy from earlier. Nothing lingered within his eyes, but only an empty vessel for a feeling, anything, to occupy it.

Nothing would ever fulfill this vessel.

“I’m planning to burn down the entire Siracusan mafia.”

“What…”

The blade under Suomi’s clasp quaked.

“What did you say?”

“Allow me to explain my stratagem, as to why I am selling arms to all the families in Siracusa.” Lowering the blade, he flashed its cheek to his wary guest. He treaded towards him and faced him in all of his earnesty.

“I want to instigate a war within them.”

Suomi’s glare grew deeper.

“I want the Siracusan mafia to collapse upon itself, and what better way than to give it that spark they desperately needed all this whi-?”

The blade in Suomi’s hands slipped out and clanked on the cold stone floor. Clutching his collars, he pushed ‘Doctor’ against the empty showcase. ‘Doctor’s cup of tea crashed onto the floor.

“You bastard.”

Before him was no longer his guest, but an angered beast.

“You absolute backstabbing bastard.”

Even so, he was unfazed.

“Do you know what you have done?!”

“Yes. All for a good reason.”

“What ‘good reason’ must you delude yourself with, to convince yourself that an internal purging is the answer?”

“See it through my eyes, Suomi, and recognise that the banners of war are already rising up high. All six main families are already conspiring against each other. I assume that your informants filled you in already on the developments.”

“Of course. That’s why I’ve already decided that my family will stay away from this brooding civil war.”

“Wouldn’t that be deserting your family’s will? That’s called betraying them, you know.”

“Don’t you dare give me a sermon about betrayal. I’m willing to safekeep everyone in my family away from war, because otherwise, we will not be long for this world.”

“Why not let me help you then? With your hounds on the ground sniffing out for loose strings and clues, you will always have an edge over everyone.”

“Their ‘loyalty’ is conditional. Once the civil war starts, who is to say that today’s allies will stay as such? It’s all a coin toss and I am not risking my family over luck.”

“Fair enough.”

“However, what you did is nothing more than being a senseless madman. Do you not know the history of Siracusa?”

“Of course I know. The ancient fable of the Luna-Wolf called upon the six families for peace in Siracusa. It’s what has been taught in schools and passed down for centuries.”

“Exactly. In honor of the Luna-Wolf, no matter the tension between the families, we would never engage in a full-on war. To instigate this pointless civil war is to bring about senseless bloodshed, and for what? These are fathers, brothers and sons we are talking about. Our very own flesh and blood, and for you to go ahead and give this putrid spark for the six families…”

Disappointment overwhelmed Suomi. It stilled his tongue; What else was there to say to change the course of history?

“You’re right, Suomi. I do see them as ‘pawns’ for my goal…”

“You…”

Suomi clocked him straight on his face.

‘Doctor’ slammed hard onto the floor. As he regained his senses against the aching pain, Suomi aimed down his pistol.

“... However, I do not see this as a game. I need to make sacrifices for the future.”

Seeing him not pull the trigger, ‘Doctor’ coughed to clear his throat.

“I’ve set the stage for this civil war to play out. Look, Suomi. The provisional government is weak and they won’t be able to snuff out the spark of rebellion. The six families have been stockpiling and gearing up for the fight, long before I got involved. It’s not a matter of ‘if’, but ‘when’. I’ve only gotten involved for the sake of a new future to sprout out of all this.”

“What?”

“The Tower of Babel, my organization, is situated far northwest of Terra. While it is at an advantageous position, since Columbia has both cutting-edge technology and leading figureheads pushing forward for the future, we need to expand our reach and presence within Terra. Siracusa is situated at a prime position, being neighbors to Laterano, Iberia, Ursus and Rim Billton. Once this civil war is over, my organization will step in and rebuild Siracusa from the rubble and debris. From the ashes will a new Siracusa be born, a Siracusa that shall be loved by all.”

Suomi disengaged the safety on his pistol.

“Why do you think I’m willing to set a war into motion? Look around us, Suomi, and tell me how the Infected are treated. You would know personally. You took on your foster daughter from those desolated alleyways that fine night when no one else would ever look at her. You know that ugly truth. You know how terrible their fates are simply due to their affliction.”

“And purging an entire country would solve that?”

“I’m not purging an entire country, Suomi. I’m cleansing it. Your politicians are corrupt with the cops on their payroll. The mafioso, all six of the families, have their dirty hands in every corner of this nation. We know their capabilities and I believe that we both know how abhorrent they are. They don’t care about the Siracusan people; They only care about their profits! You told me about a Siracusa that does not shun the Infected, that takes in everyone like family; A Siracusa that will love every single brother and sister, Infected or non-Infected. That’s what you advocate for, isn’t it, Suomi?”

Suomi’s aim quivered a tad bit. It was still on his head, but it was trembling a bit.

“By destabilizing an entire country, we will then be able to reinstate the very values that make Siracusa great. From the ashes, from the bloodshed, from the debris, we will build it all up and create the future with our own hands. That’s what the Tower of Babel believes; A future for all, Infected or non-Infected. Think of it, Suomi; A future for your foster daughter where she could roam the streets and not be shunned for her appearances; A future for your foster daughter to be cured of her oripathy infection. That’s what I want.”

Suomi’s barrel remained on ‘Doctor’s head, but his trigger finger froze.

The LED lights buzzed above their heads.

Nothing else stirred within the room, except for the sparse specks of dust gliding in the air without a care in the world. Their eyes met each other, but none blinked. Both were dead set on what they saw and envisioned.

Every second that passed was yet another minute marching towards the imminent war. Suomi could hear the second passing by with every heartbeat. Ticking away, with ‘Doctor’s life on the line, by the end of his pistol barrel. Even if he were to pull the trigger, what would it accomplish? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Suomi lowered his pistol and engaged the safety. “Unbelievable.”

“I’m sorry for the rude awakening.”

His guest lifted his hand and faced his palm towards him. “I’ve heard enough.”

Scampering to his feet, ‘Doctor’ walked behind the counter and retrieved a big inconspicuous duffel bag. He then packed up the two blades into it and passed it to Suomi. “Take it. It’s a gift from me to you.”

“I’m not going to accept this.”

“Take. It.”

Begrudgingly, Suomi snatched it out of his hands. He headed out to the door.

“Before you go, let me ask you a question.”

Suomi stopped by the doorframe. “... What?”

“Where are you going to hide your family? As much as it is not a prominent sub-family within the main branch, once the war breaks out, your absence will be duly noted.”

“... I have contacts in Columbia. The Texas family.”

“Them? Aren’t they secretive with their operations? I have not a single clue on how they conduct themselves.”

“I’m friends with their don.” Suomi hesitated by the doorframe. “... Let me ask you one question back.”

“Pray tell.”

“Why do you care about the kid so much?”

“It’s because you’re family to me, as much as she is to me. I know how much your foster daughter means to you and I want to grant her a gift.”Suomi scoffed at it, but he nodded. “... I wish you well, Suomi.”

With that, his guest vanished into the night. He would never return back to ‘Doctor’, nor would he ever return afterwards.

After the exchange, Doctor’s apparition spewed out of his body, returning it to its rightful owner.

Doctor collapsed to his knees. Being the audience in his own body did him a number, but not as badly as the critical information he had learnt. He could not believe his ears at all.

“So, Docere?” His apparition asked. “What do you think?”

“... I am responsible for Siracusa’s civil war?” He whispered out, dejected by the revelation.

“Yep.”

“... I am responsible for Texas and Lappland’s…” Doctor peered into his palms and wished that it was not just his pinky that he lost. Nothing could ever bleach his palms of the crusty blood. “I am responsible for their families being killed in the crossfire.”

“To be more specific, you not only managed to kill off both their families indirectly, but Lappland’s violent personality and Texas’s distant demeanor would be attributed to you.”

“I’m a monster.”

“Not really. You did what you must.”

“What the fuck do you mean, asshole?” Doctor barked. “I am solely responsible for their trauma and nothing would change that. God knows who else I have scarred for life…”

“I don’t want to burst your bubble and ruin the suspense, but here’s a spoiler: Disregarding the normal personnel on board in Rhodes Island currently, be it the doctors, therapists, farmers, security, so on and so forth, you have about a respectable number of two hundred distinguished operators at your disposal. How many more operators have you scarred in your quest of a brighter future for all? I roughly estimated about half of them.”

Doctor bolted from his knees and rushed towards his apparition. He threw a fist, only for him to phase through him. He crashed onto the floor. “You asshole… You scarred them.”

“No, Docere.” He squatted down and smiled at him. “We did.”

Doctor felt his blood rushing into his legs, pistoning him to charge towards him. He crashed to the cache boxes headfirst. He rubbed his aching head, only for his apparition to chuckle at his attempts.

“Fine, I’ll throw you a bone here. I don’t indulge in sacrificing people for the sake of the future. I am you, and you are me. We both care for our own operators and we both are willing to save each and every single Infected out there in Terra. It seems, however, that our philosophies have diverged; I am more willing to make a sacrifice and you are more willing to cling onto everyone. That, by itself, is not a bad thing.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” By now, his eyelids were growing heavy.

“Cherish your operators, Doctor. Even if it means losing them to the ultimate end, cherish them closely.” His apparition checked his watch. “It’s a shame. It’s time for you to wake up.”

“Wait… I need to know more.”

“Find more sentimental objects, Docere, just like the glass shard lodged in your abdomen…”

Everything was spinning around him and before he knew it, he slammed himself onto the floor, fading away into the darkness.

“... Or better yet, ask Kal’tsit.”

He could not respond back, for he was too fatigued to answer back. However, once he returned to the recesses of his head, he was more than willing to clock him square in his face; How much he wanted to punch that smug smile off his face…

===

Chapter Text

Stars shimmered in his darkness. His guiding lights, what he had chased for ages, ushered him back to where he needed to be.

Pushing himself off the golden floors, he pinned himself against the executive desk. If only he had morning coffee, but the pungent scent of spent gunpowder and sulfur was enough.

His eyes were still fixated on the chandeliers above. Those mesmerizing diamonds were always out of his reach, like the cosmos and galaxies back on that Siracusa night. It twinkled and flickered. How much he wanted to fly away from the howling and roaring downstairs up to those stars, but alas…

‘I’m a monster.’

He balled up his fists, only to feel something residing on his palm. It was not the glass shard from before.

A crimson ring, much like his apparition’s, rested.

“So it’s true…” Doctor murmured to himself, “I’m responsible for all this.”

Texas and Lappland were still fighting for their lives downstairs, waiting for the command to evacuate.

“All admired you and were willing to throw their lives away at your beckon.” His apparition’s words echoed. It was not a lie, and he hated how he blinded himself to that fact. All those who were recruited under this noble cause respected him. Each operator and personnel residing in Rhodes Island saluted him. All shared their joys and woes, dreams and nightmares, hopes and despair, with him. All were his to love.

They were family to him.

And yet, all of them were willing to die by his beckon. Signing that contract on their first day was them partaking the solemn vow.

‘What was the point of me preaching about life and how precious it is, then?’

All of their lives were in his hands. His bloodied, filthy hands.

“Cherish your operators, Docere…” He clenched his fists, almost wanting to crush the crimson ring. “...Even if it means losing them to the ultimate end, cherish them closely.”

‘How could he say that to me with that repulsive smile?’ Rage cocked his arm ready to hurl the crimson ring over the second floor railings. Arguing against it, he raised it up against the chandelier above. Where did he order such a classy ring? It was not a normal one, with wine-red engravings digging into its sleek black shank. Cradled in the sparkling basket was the bewitching crimson garnet. Peering deeper into this thick rich red, he was drowning in it. Swirling. Spiraling. Sprawling. This bloody whirlpool gazed back at Doctor with its black eye. Neither blinking nor wavering, it roped him deeper into this stifling mix of decadence and violence.

‘Snap out of it, dammit.’ He slapped himself with his free hand. ‘What am I doing? I need to get out there.’

His soul bellowed at his lifeless body for being useless. Drowning in the ring’s black eye, his legs flailed against the strong current, instead of marching him out and issuing the command to evacuate. His hands paddled, instead of helping him off the floor. His heart roared, crying out for a hand to save him from this depthless ocean. His mind struggled to stay above water, but his sins were shackled to his ankles and the darkness was engulfing his sights. It was getting harder and harder to breath.

‘How could I ever face them like this?!’ His thoughts screamed out. ‘What am I doing?!’

He gritted his teeth and teared up.

What was wrong with him? Should he have mourned for the random gangster he blasted whilst waiting for the elevator? He had no clue. For him to preach about the sanctity of life, and yet to blast a random gangster point-blank whilst waiting for the lift like it was another day in the office, it sickened him. For him to string up squads and deploy them into high-risk operations, and yet to be seated away from it all as if he was an audience to a circus act, he detested vehemently. Disoriented, he was disillusioned of his own character.

Maybe his apparition was right.

He killed a man by his own hands. He, after all his years of commanding, had tasted blood. What did he feel?

The answer eluded him.

Not guilt, that was for sure. Not humility. Not even a shred of remorse.

He was simply perplexed.

‘I’ve commandeered so many operations and led so many Reunion soldiers and the like to their graves. Why… Why the hell am I thinking of this now?’

Was he waiting for that collapsing feeling of dread to crash upon him? Was he too numbed out by seeing the senseless bloodshed? Was simply existing in Terra, with life and death relying on a coin toss, cheapening life itself? What was he supposed to feel? How could he ever ask his operators for an answer to this question? They had their fill. For a moment, which froze his blood to the thought of it, he was alone. Outcasted and thrown to the side, like a dying cancer from a body, within his Rhodes Island family, he was alone.

How many of his dear operators did he scar?

How many of them will fall under his command?

Imagine Texas and Lappland on their dying breath.

He banged his fist against the desk. He shivered, trying to keep himself under control, but how else could he answer to himself?

‘Why am I so hung up on this?!’

From the wild terrains of Sargon, to the bleak cities of Chernobog, to the serene temples of Higashi, his contingent has toured through the lands of Terra. So many mercenaries, vigilantes and assailants were dispatched under his command. Their strings were dancing to the tune of some other figurehead, be it Talulah or someone else, and they were all waltzing to their deaths. Tragic as it was to die for their beliefs, they were but pieces on the board who pledged their allegiance to their king. Doctor shook his head to the despairing spiral.

‘I’m not a heartless bastard. I still care so much about them all.’

His karaoke session with Amiya, Kal’tsit and Rosmontis; His chess matches with Silverash, Hellagur and Mountain; His surprise birthday party for Suzuran, with the help of Shamare, Magallan and Popukar; His face-off with Nian, Dusk and Ling eating the spiciest dishes Lungmen could offer; His baking sessions with Blue Poison, Ptilopsis and Platinum…

The more memories that drenched him, the heavier the downpour from his eyes.

Sinking deeper into his abyss, his guiding lights above him, plenty and all bedazzling, reached out to him. Their hands pierced through the choppy waters and turbulent currents. Their radiant incandescent was heaven itself calling upon him.

“Ace…” Those names leaked out of his lips with downcast eyes. “Scout…”

His fallen brothers that he knew so little of initially… How they were willing to die for a husk of their former commander…

“These are fathers, brothers and sons we are talking about.” Suomi’s words shattered this fragile hope igniting in his heart. How was he so blind? Only now had he understood what it was like to be played as a piece in this fatal game. Talulah, Schiavo, Kal’tsit, Lin Gray, Amiya, his operators, even he himself were all dancing to their own motives and aspirations. It was nothing more than whose resolve was stronger. Should he stand up and pump his fists in the air for staying alive all this while? Should he proclaim to the world of his greatness and relish in his kills?

What was he? A monster?

… Could he have been someone else? Did he ever have the choice of being something else than to be the proud Doctor?

He hung his head and curled up.

Given the option, would he throw everything away? An appalling question to say the least; A man of his talents and knowledge, to be reduced to nothing more than a commoner?

“For the future? I would like to be a musician or even a university professor.” He recalled himself confiding in Texas of his retirement plan during the annual party. “I would like to forget all the bloodshed and tone my life down to a more peaceful one.”

Would it be worth it, to throw it all away after all he went through? Was a life of peace and solitude truly honorable?

His nails stabbed into his legs.

‘No.’

His glare was thrown towards the door.

‘That life is not mine.’

A teardrop patted on the golden floor. Then another. And another, unto no end.

Outside those doors was his damnation and punishment; Venturing back into the world, accursed by knowledge, will be more than enough for him to seek out his redemption and salvation. Whilst detesting the crimson ring one last time, he wore it on his finger. Its sultry tint sneered at him for wearing his sins with pride, but he will not run away from this. It would forevermore be a curse for him and yet it was repurposed to be his shadow; Never away from him and always a part of him, but nevertheless behind him.

‘Do I really deserve to live?’

His heart was silent. Whatever answer he would surmise would never be enough. Even so, he had all the time in the world after this to process and mourn. Not now. Not right now, with Texas and Lappland fighting for their lives. They will not greet Ace and Scout. He demanded it.

‘Maybe you’re right, Kal’tsit. I shouldn’t have been so gung-ho with this operation...’

Forcing himself up, he retrieved his Lupara and reloaded it.

‘... But damn me if I’m not going to have a blast here.’

Hot-red lightning bolts rippled from the crimson ring throughout his ring finger. His eyes glowed that same tint of bloodthirst. His sanity was on the line, the price to pay for greatness, but damn it all if he were to not hit the ground running with his best foot forward.

“Those who cling to their past will never live in the future.” Fashioning himself with Lappland’s mannerisms, he declared and felt his vigor swelling on his chest. “Those who cling to their future will never understand their past.”

He cocked his head up high and gripped down on his Lupara.

“Foresight of Priestess!”

…

…

Who was he kidding?

Hopefully Texas and Lappland.

More importantly, hopefully himself.

He had all the time to contemplate and reflect on his sins, but for now, war had no time for mercy.

This false bravado will do him, if it means to brave into the storm.

===

“Eleven!” Lappland plunged her blade into a gangster’s throat, before booting his corpse out of her way. “Texas! How many have you sent to their maker?”

“Lost…” Texas hailed down another Sword Rain, stopping the gangsters in their tracks. “Count.”

“Not like you to lose track of your kills! Getting tired already, Texas?!”

Texas simply dismissed her comment.

“Don’t sour up now, Texas! Killing with you by my side again made my dreams come true.” Lappland parried an incoming jab with her own, before kneeing him in the stomach. “And I want to savor it!”

Hollering out, she slammed another gangster’s head against a poker table, before falling to her knees once again. Panting hard, she was clinging onto the thrill of the hunt, but everything was spinning and blurring before her. Her skin was warm with all the blood leaking out of her, but underneath, it was freezing cold. Damning herself for being the wet blanket of this hunt, she tried to force herself up but to no avail.

Another gangster charged at her and swung, only to be intercepted by Texas. The mere sight had Lappland tittering.

Texas offered her a hand to get back up. Under the chandelier spotlight, this angelic shine on her granted Lappland her second wind. “Thank you, my Texas.”

“Getting tired already, Lappland?”

“Yep.” Lappland leaned against her, shoulder to shoulder. Texas caught her and helped her stand. “Doctor promised me quite the oncore with thirty more men as reinforcements, but… Damn… Never thought handling such a number was this tiring. Are we getting old, Texas?”

Texas sighed sharply, “Only you are.”

“Hehe, maybe…” Lappland, in spite of her weariness, beamed out a bright smile to her partner. “I always wished that we were like what we used to be back in your compound...”

The remaining mafioso retreated behind the pillars by the entrance, waiting for more to scamper in. In the midst of their fleeting respite, Texas and Lappland waited. For Doctor’s command to evacuate? For more rats running into the slaughter? Hunched over but breathing hard, they kept glaring straight towards them.

“... Sparring our days away, eating pasta together, sleeping together... I remember that one time you were so embarrassed to confess about how you were going to succeed your father and take reins over all of Columbia…”

A vein popped on Texas’s forehead. “Shut up.”

“... Don’t you miss those days, Texas? Weren’t we happier back then?”

“Shut up, Lappland. You’re not dying on me.” Seeing her white partner’s skin eviscerated and bruised up, it was a miracle for her to still be alive.

“You know, Texas…” Her words grew weaker, but desperation kept her awake, “I’ve always… Envied you…”

Texas felt her fingers clinging onto her shirt.

“I was supposed to be dead by your hands. To spare my life…”

“I said shut up, Lappland.” She growled. Those scars in her heart were reopening.

“Was it because you were too weak to finish me off, or you were strong enough to not lose yourself? I wish I knew. I always…”

Texas shuffled behind Lappland, hooked her arms around Lappland’s body and began tugging her towards the lift. Whatever fighting spirit Lappland had, it had begun to fizzle out. Any sign of weakness would be enough to entice the mafioso to rally up and jump. Texas could not allow that to happen at all, but what other option was there? Her own strength was fading and mustering another Sword Rain would punch all the air in her lungs.

“I miss my family, Texas. I miss them so…” Her body rocked with each violent cough. She winced as blood sputtered out with each cough. “... So much. Texas, do you mis-”

“I said shut up!” Texas barked at her. Her legs began to wobble whilst dragging this deadweight across the floor. “Don’t you dare mention my family. You…”

“So you do miss them.” Lappland let out a weak smile, but a genuine one, just like the one she gave to Doctor before he ascended to the second floor. “Always a family woman, through and through. No wonder your foolish Penguin Logistics buddies cherish you. Truly, you have the makings of a don.”

Lappland cackled out loud, before coughing her lungs out.

‘Where’s Doctor?’ Amidst the smoky fog of fatigue due to the deadweight in her arms, her scowl scanned throughout the second floor. Her legs were giving out, with each step growing heavier and heavier, but desperation fuelled her; What she would give to see, for even a split second, Doctor above the railings. Her glare struck fear down the gangsters but if only looks could kill.

It was a suicide mission from the start. It always had been. She harped on and on to Doctor by the parking garage and yet, it fell upon deaf ears. To barge into a stronghold by the very heart of the Lungmen Black Market, ill-equipped, lacking in numbers and with limited foresight, was nothing more than asking for death. Absolutely foolish, even without Schiavo in the picture. All for a piece of Doctor’s past? All for what, exactly?

Seeing Schiavo’s face again after all these years was enough for Texas to be dissuaded from caution. To have a clue of his whereabouts and his pattern was invaluable for her to hunt him down, but was this worth it?

‘I should leave Doctor behind.’

This thought sat by the back of her mind, biding its time. Never would she ever consider it. Not now. Not after all the bloodshed. Not after everything.

It need not force itself upon her. It was patient.

“Lappland, I…” She dug deep into her chest and breathed in. “I need you to stop being a burden and get back up on your feet.”

“Such fighting words, Texas.” Her friend clamped down on a poker table. “You’re right, though. I… I need to be stronger than…” She crashed to her knees, “... Than this.”

Seeing the two femme fatales reduced to distressed damsels was enough for the gangsters to advance.

Texas skimmed over the heads marching towards their way.

Adrenaline was wearing off. Rage was simmering down. Her body, losing its heat, was struggling to keep up with her pinpoint concentration.

The elevator dinged. She peeked over her shoulders.

Blood-moon red eyes, under the looming shadow of his mood, stared down on everyone. Contrasting such an intense stare was him juggling three fragmentation grenades. In spite of the absurd, almost comedic, sight, his mere presence was enough to root everyone to where they stood. He ambled towards them, defying the bloodsoaked air with all of them sweating bullets. Even with some of them aiming down their sights on him, their trigger fingers shivered. For someone this calm to waltz into the lion’s den raised red flags.

Finally, after some time, he stood next to his two operators. He stopped juggling the grenades. It clanked onto each other, with one resting in his right hand. That very grenade began to twirl around his index finger by its safety pin.

The mafioso waited for any brave soul to step out and resume their advances.

“Not sure if you can smell their fears, Texas, but I can see it reeking out of them.” Doctor pointed out.

“What do you mean?”

“Only reason why they haven’t killed any of us is because they’re not willing to throw their lives away, unlike us.” Doctor said bluntly. “How’s Lappland? Is she still able to keep on fighting?”

“Of course, Doctor. Of course I can.” Lappland croaked out as she clutched her stomach. Helping her steady her stance, Texas felt the blistering heat radiating from her body.

“Not in this state, Lappland. Your body has reached its limits.” Texas advised.

“Let… Let me go, Texas. I can still fight.” This frail act of bravado was betrayed by her bowie knife slipping through her fingers. “It’s… It’s not my time to see my family on the other side.”

“Lappland…” Doctor spoke to her with all his heart. “Your foster father was Suomi, wasn’t he?”

Doctor did not turn around, but he felt their stares scorching his back.

“How do you know that name?” Lappland, clawing into Texas, bared her teeth by the name that meant the world for her. “How do you know my father?!”

“He was a good man. I don’t remember everything, but I do remember those fleeting moments when we shared a meal by the patio, sipping on wine and confiding within each other of the dreams we envisioned.” Doctor caught the twirling grenade and clutched it tight. “I remember how passionate he was when he talks about you. He loves you a lot.”

How much Lappland wanted to pounce on him and rip his tongue out.

She wanted to laugh as much as she wanted to cry.

A red twinkle caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed down and pierced through her weariness. Amongst this blurry haze, by his right hand, that crimson ring winked.

“That’s…” Lappland’s voice became raspy, almost losing it. She writhed under Texas’s grasp, with one arm reaching out to it.

“Lappland.” Texas beckoned, “Stop.”

“THAT’S MY FATHER’S RING. GIVE IT BACK. GIVE IT BACK TO ME.”

What she would do to peel that ring off his finger; How much more strength she needed to snap out of Texas’s embrace; What she would do to snap Doctor’s neck to have him face her. There he stood, with his back still facing them. Thrashing and writhing, Lappland cried out, but to no avail. She shrieked out, tearing her vocal cords with visceral howling. No matter how much she begged for him to give back her birthright, her rightful inheritance from her father, he remained a statue.

Without that ring, an endearing piece of her past, she would rather die by those desolate alleyways back in Siracusa.

Her heart recalled those lifeless moments where she said on those snowy blankets. Out of the freezing white backdrop, that crimson red reached out to her. It always reached out to her, until his bitter end. Lying down in those alleyways again after his death, she caked herself with that same tint of red after each assassination, hoping that it was enough for her repentance. Maybe, just maybe, as she hoped with all of her heart, each bloody family scutcheon retrieved from various capos was enough.

Alas, that crimson red never came back for her.

Like before, her tears cleansed her of the blood on her face and warmed her heart. This icy heart, melting to make way for spring to blossom, was naked for all to witness. She howled on and on, shunning and damning anyone taking pity on her. Crying her heart out, she was reminded of this grim reminder one more time. She hated it. She cursed this grim reminder, but by her feet, there it was.

She was all alone. Nothing will ever change that.

Nothing ever will.

Texas hugged her tighter. She herself knew what it was like to be unraveled.

To be reconnected with the woes of one’s heart, after months, or perhaps years, of running, it can kill people; To sit down and see the ugly reflection by the mirror, it was enough for one to yearn for the feeling to not feel at all; To acknowledge that no matter how close one was to their friends and family, death shall take them away one day, it was enough to drive anyone mad.

Even from the shadows, by glimpses and side-views, Texas knew that Lappland was hiding her heart. Maybe, just maybe, Lappland’s quest for strength, her desire to vanquish all her foes, her conquest for power, was her way of running away from her past too.

Texas felt Lappland’s heart.

She always had.

She knew of its whispers.

“I’m sorry, Lappland.” Texas whispered. She coiled her arms and squeezed around Lappland’s neck. Each time Lappland clawed into her skin, this anaconda-like coil tightened. “Rest now.”

Slowly.

Surely.

Lappland’s blazing fire was diminished until it was reduced to nothing more than a snuffed out candle.

“Call the lift.” Doctor said,“I’ll buy you time by delaying their advances. We make our escape from the third floor by the fire escape.”

“Wouldn’t they be waiting from there too?”

Doctor’s finger tapped under his eyes. “They were not as bright as I anticipated. However, they are lurking within the alleyways. However, my lil’ upgrade will shed light upon this labyrinth.”

“Didn’t you deplete your sanity?”

“Fully restored, and much more attuned to my control. Don’t worry.” Doctor beamed a smile over his shoulders. For once, throughout this entire expedition to the casino, throughout their turbulent journey in the Lungmen outskirts, he cracked a smile like that of a child’s: Innocent, yet determined. Only difference was that naivety did not linger in it. “Trust me, Texas.”

Texas hesitated and pondered on what she wanted to say, but dismissed the thought. Now was not the time for questions. She piggybacked Lappland and plodded to the lift.

“They knocked out the monster.” One of the gangsters spoke out of the crowd. “Now’s our chance!”

As they took a step forward, Doctor pulled the pin on the grenade but did not release the safety lever. That by itself was ample warning for the advancing mafioso. Doctor raised one finger and waved them not to be foolish.

“Monster?!” Doctor mocked, “And I thought you were all gentlemen. That’s no way to call a lady. Have you no shame?”

No one spoke from the crowd. All were clutching tight onto whatever they equipped themselves. Some steadied their sights, with a few aiming at the grenade.

“Oh? Afraid of this?” Doctor gestured the grenade in his hand. “Fine.”

He let go of the safety lever.

The grenade was cooking.

“Have it then.”

He chucked it towards the crowd.

Bullets started flying. Gangsters started shoving against each other. Some were trampled on, with some others tripping. To those unfortunate victims, the last thing they saw was the creeping grenade, rolling towards them inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, right before the blinding white.

*BOOM*.

The entire casino, again, quaked.

The shockwave alone buckled Texas’s legs. She fell and lost her grip on Lappland. Looking back, she saw the thick gray smoke drifting.

Doctor, taking cover with a table, pulled out two more pins and let the grenades cook.

“BASTARD.” The straggling survivors rose to their feet and resumed fire.

He chucked one to the left, and one to the right, before dipping behind the poker table.

*BOOM*.

Chandeliers rocked. Pillars were cracking up. Gangsters were coughing, gagging underneath the debris and this deathly smoke. Even so, they were blindly opening fire in a general direction. Shredding through the smoke was not just bullets but screams too.

Just up a few more steps on the bifurcated staircase will Texas be able to call for the lift. However, with the rumbling and firing, she took cover behind a pillar. Pinned down with hardly any energy to sprint towards the lift, especially with a burden of a partner, she was strapped for options. For now, she needed to lay low. She peeked around and scanned for Doctor.

Her only clue was the storm of bottles flying towards the charging gangsters.

Doctor chucked as many as he could. This pungent reek of alcohol and absinthes pissed off the gangsters more and more. Marching against the hailstorm of their finest and most precious, they bit the bullet (and, in a more literal sense, the bombardment).

‘Are you that desperate, Doctor?’ Texas was simply dumbfounded that this was his master plan. Throwing all his grenades away so quickly was asking for a counter attack. And this was his backup plan? If only she had the energy to bolt to his side and provide support. On top of that, to leave Lappland unguarded…

Doctor dove back under the bar counter, rummaging for something.

“And here we go!”

Popping back, he stood up with another bottle and a lighter in his hand. This time, a cloth was stuffed into its neck.

“Enjoy now!”

The fuse had been lit.

He flung it at them.

The bottle crashed onto the floor and shattered.

Flames.

Rising up the columns, razing the ground beneath, ravaging the burning corpses, the sight itself would make anyone cry. Boiling skin, crisp and peeled off the damned souls, alongside its putrid stench, was enough to make anyone hurl. Cries of mercy broke through the dancing flames. They called out for help, but no one dared to dive into the hellish flames. Cries of mercy screeched through the roasting hell and many more shrieked out against this blazing monster. Separated, they opened fire at the bar, hoping for vengeance for their fallen brothers.

By then, it would have been too late for them. Doctor had already reunited with Texas.

They opened fire at the lift for a chance at anything, but nothing hit. Bullets dented the elevator doors, but nothing else.

As Doctor peeked out the elevator one last time, he saw the dancing shadows twisting slower and slower amongst that flush of orange. Instead of Lappland’s lonesome smile, the shadows were cursing his name over and over again to no end. Instead of her white pearly eyes twinkling at him, black sockets burnt holes into him. Instead of her white silhouette corrupted with that tint of red, all he saw was that damning orange. It was nothing more than a hellscape painted from the darkest hearts known to man.

He thought of the gangster he blasted earlier and clutched down on his Lupara grip.

Who was the real monster here?

===

Their return to the parking garage was a quiet scurry.

Descending from the fire escape, their best route back there was to traverse through the dark labyrinth of the Lungmen slums. With little to no light across stretches of alleyways and with the mafioso having the layout of the slums on the back of their hands, by right, it was a matter of time until the trio were to be caught. That was, until Doctor squeezed out every single droplet of sanity to fuel his eyes.

“Foresight of Priestess…” He would murmur over and over again, whilst grunting and pressing against his eyes, “Foresight of Priestess…”

An ugly sight, to say the least for Texas. To see Doctor wobbling, bracing the wall, catching his breath and banging his fists against the wall was distressing, but she had seen worse. Even so, she was grateful that with his new eyes, per say, all his predictions of enemy insertion routes were perfect. Like a shadow in the night, they weaved through the labyrinth without coming close to being captured. Not at all. To see him predicting all possible routes live, instead of falling asleep and waking up abruptly, was a new sight for her.

‘What did you find back in his study room, Doctor?’ This question was hung close to her. It bidded its time, for a time will come.

After what seemed to be a dogged race to the parking garage for an hour, they had finally arrived. Trudging up the stairs with each step burning their legs, they could not believe that they escaped with their lives. On some flights, they would pause to catch their breath and keep passing the slumbering maniac on their backs. On other flights, they would knee down and try their best to shake it off.

Doctor swung the top floor door open and saw the car completely intact. A silver lining amongst this shitstorm, and it was about to be over. Swiping away the sweat on his forehead, he kept the door open for Texas.

“Finally.” He groaned out, “Time to head…”

“Mm.” Texas kept on trudging towards the car until she heard a thump behind her. She turned and saw Doctor on all fours vomiting. His knuckles were white and his body was almost convulsing with each pulse of puke. Resting Lappland against a nearby wall, she rushed to his side and braced him by the shoulders. “Doctor.”

He raised a hand with his palm facing her, before ripping out a fat one out of his mouth.

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”

With his head swaying to and fro, unable to still himself, he fell back and sat with his head hung low. “Texas…”

“I’ll get you medicine back at Lin Gray’s. We need to go.”

“What have I done?”

“W… What do you mean?”

“I’m a monster, Texas. I’m… What have I done?”

Texas rushed to his front and clasped him by the shoulders, locking her eyes with his. “Doctor, calm down.”

Deep within his eyes was a void. Devoid of Doctor’s usual flare or flamboyance, neither his cheekiness nor compassion was found in his eyes. His eyes, a black hole against the golden backdrop of the Black Market, was looking beyond Texas. It was aimless, as if they were preoccupied with something deeper than whatever they could see.

Misery.

Absolute misery resided within his irises. His eyes stared off into the distance, hoping for the end, but the horizon kept on stretching.

“Doctor, snap out of it.” She raised a hand and was about to slap him.

“I killed so many people, Texas.” He muttered out with tears streaming out. “I sent them to their graves without a shred of remorse.”

Her hand relaxed. It still was planted on his face, but instead of a tight slap, it cradled his face with her thumb swiping his tears away. “What do you mean?”

His eyes finally saw her.

Tears flooded down.

“The Siracusan civil war…” He squinted at her, “I’m responsible for it.”

Texas felt her heart banging against her ribcage.

“I’m…”

He pointed at Texas.

“I’m responsible for your family…”

He pointed at Lappland.

“... And hers…”

His limb went limp.

“... I’ve sent them all to die.”

Texas began to hyperventilate.

A wind chime was heard behind her.

She cocked her sights towards the wind chime, only to be greeted with Death once again.

Chapter Text

18th March, 20XY

9.48am.

‘I pray for your success, dear daughter.’ Peering into those blackened skies, Texas’s father sipped his tea.

Lightning and thunder erupted the skies with flashing lights and darkness. Bolts of blinding light terrorized the plentiful trees by the meadow’s sides. Some were struck down, with an unfortunate handful being uprooted. Thunder boomed out afterwards, laughing at their misery. Coupled with the volleys of rain hailing down, it was deafening; Texas’s father could hardly hear his own thoughts, but his tea aided him in seeking peace from within. Brash gusts tried to intimidate him by trying to rip his robes away, but he merely shrugged it off.

‘The Heavens, too, are disturbed.’

Days would be spent either in his dojo meditating away or in his office slaving away to paperwork, but today was different. Mirrored by the thunderstorm, his heart will not be eased by his lukewarm tea. If only these thick cords of rain were thinner, then he might be able to admire the view once more. With trees brushing up the sides of this vast meadow, this lush greenery spruced up the grand mountain down the stretch. His eyes trailed along the meadows and recalled Texas and her mother, hand–in-hand, dancing in the lavenders and marigolds. To bury her here underneath the meadow she ever so loved was to honor her. Texas still danced on this meadow, but in a more wistful tune, and with a different partner altogether.

‘Will there ever be a stop to this dance we entwined ourselves into, dear daughter?’ He peered to the horizon as memories of Texas sparring away with Lappland came forth to him.

He knew the answer. In a few years shall the answer take him away.

Will his dojo begin to collect dust after his passing? No, or at least he hoped not. Texas will see to it. Under the dim shine of the midnight candle, her spirit blazed on through those countless nights. Failing over and over again, only to stand back up over and over again, her heart hardened. A shame, then, it was for her not to conjure up a stable blade. Many faults wrote themselves into its body; Too forceful, and it shall shatter; Too gentle, and it shall be dulled; Rushing it shall lose its edge; Lingering shall be pointless. He witnessed her dogged effort. Rushing years of deliberate practice will not achieve mastery, but often, his words fell on deaf ears.

No.

Her ears were wide open, but not her heart; Attunement to one’s blade relies on encompassing its essence, and her heart was full of self-hatred. At least she was able to materialize a blade on a good day, but such days were scarce. If only her days were spent elsewhere.

This thunderstorm roared out, but it paled to what was bottled within her heart. It was all his fault.

“Where did I go wrong?”

If only he could ask her, but she was already on her way to the airport for her manhunt. A convenient excuse, if anything; Even when she was around, he lacked the courage. All he could now was to pray.

For her success.

For her safety.

For her peace.

He fetched his walking cane and hobbled over to the altar. He staved off the chaos outside and dwelled deeper within himself. Kneeling before it, he bowed his head and beseeched the heavens for a moment of respite. He clasped his hands together and recalled her face.

“My dear.” His words, slow and cautious, lingered by his lips, “We meet yet again in prayer.”

He closed his eyes and let the storm fade away into obscurity.

“Texas will not be joining us. She’s partaking in an important mission as of now. Her most challenging operation yet, but I’m confident that she shall succeed. And yet, even with that, my heart is burdened with worries… I’m truly ashamed to be called her father. I failed her, dear, and I worry that it might be too late.” A tear streamed down his cheek, but he did not wipe it away. “You’re right. You’re always right. She was not only the rightful heir of the Texas family, but more so, she was our own child. My dear, I’ve lost sight of what was most important. I… No. Nothing will ever take it back. If only I knew sooner…”

He shook his head. Why was he still lying to himself? Hiding from the heavens was futile.

“No. I knew. I knew all this while. It’s just I was too absorbed with attaining honor and glory for our family. I was absolutely blinded by my ambitions. It granted us safety and security, but at what cost? To infuse this cutthroat family with our own… It’s too late, isn’t it? Our dear daughter grows more distant by the day and my days are counting down. What I would do to go back and give everything away…” Another tear was shed, but he swept it away. He took a deep breath. “...Will she ever smile, my dear? Will she?”

Thunder boomed out loud, but the raging storm in his heart hushed it.

“It had been so long since I have seen her smile, and that was when you were still around, dear. I want to believe that she will smile once more, but my heart has been invaded, no, plagued with doubt. Not after what I had done to her when she was a mere child. By the time you passed and I'd awakened to my mistakes, it was too late. Can this old man plead for her forgiveness?”

His voice grew hoarse, and that was the cue for him to pause for the moment. His hands were tensing up. Breathing in deep, he followed a natural rhythm and counted.

Breathe in.

Hold for the moment.

Breathe out.

And hold again.

Once more.

Once again.

‘Be not with the world beyond, but with the world within.’ He recited whilst meditating, ‘Be at peace, and walk forth.’

He felt hands like feathers and arms like wool.

Startled but welcoming, he kept still and allowed it.

It was not that of a physical person. More so, it was as if an angel or the light itself embraced it. Serenity. Tranquility. Peace. He was cleansed by this passing grace and his heart was washed away from his worries’ toxins; Worries were plenty but were no longer suffocating.

“It is about time I depart, my dear. It’s high time to lay these old bones to rest and allow our rightful heir to succeed my position. To see her as the upcoming don of this family had always been my dream, and to witness such a procession is a blessing in itself. Afterwards, I wish with all my heart that I shall act more like her father. I am a foolish man, but now no longer. All I ask of the heavens is to grant me a bit more time. If only I could recall her from her venture to Siracus-”

A loud ‘bang’ reverberated within the villa.

He cracked open his eyes. That thunderous boom did not sit well on him.

One of his underlings was flung out the window, with many other screaming out loud in terror. Multiple ‘bangs’ tore through the compound.

He clutched his walking cane and hurried into his office.

‘Which faction or family is it?’ His mind raced as he dialed for Texas. ‘Storming into the Texas family… Who had gone mad?’

“Father?” Texas’s voice, with a bit of static, asked through the phone, “What’s going on?”

“Daughter. Return to the villa now. We’re being sieged by another family.”

“What?! Who?!”

The office mahogany doors were kicked wide open. Lo and behold.

“You…” He prayed that the revenant by the door frame was a hallucination. “The reports proclaimed you dead.”

“Not quite.” Her wicked smile flashed. Walking into the office jingled the bloodstained scutcheons dangling from her belt. How she managed to procure all of them remained a mystery, but a clue in solving it was her estranged blades flaring up with a violent white brilliance, tinged with rich red blood. Those howling flames from this crackling brilliance encoated her arms, and yet her pale white skin was not scorched in the slightest.

“Father?! Who is it?! Father! Talk to me!” Texas’s voice screamed out on the phone.

Her muddy boots thudded down the room as it slathered the crimson red carpet.

“Your old friend from Siracusa, my dear.” The revenant pointed a blade at him with the flames on her blade charging up ever brighter. “I’ll call you back.”

“FATHER?!”

He put down the phone.

“Was that Texas? That might explain why she didn’t greet me by the entrance.” Her grin broadened to the thought of seeing her later. “Thanks for calling her back so I could snuff out her miserable life too; Saves me the trouble of hunting her down.”

‘Is this Lappland, or the devil himself?’ Texas’s father shuddered to think who he was conversing with.

The telephone rang again. His hand remained.

“Go ahead. Answer it. Spend your last moments with your daughter and tell her that you love her. You robbed me of that, but I’m feeling generous.”

“I need not to. She is aware of your intrusion and will return in due time. For now, it is you whom I must be concerned with.”

Lappland sneered, “And let her end up like me. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”

“... My condolences for your late family. It is truly a traged-”

Lappland slashed. The projectile from her blades brushed past him, before it exploded and set the bookshelf behind him aflame for a brief moment. All this, and he did not flinch. His eyes were still eyeing down on her.

“Fuck off. Don’t you even dare say you’re sorry for the hit you marked on them.”

“I gave no such command.”

“YOU DID!” She yelled, “Those bastards you set up when I returned home? Remember them?! They ratted you out and told me everything, about how your underboss was responsible for this mess, about how he wants to succeed Mr Big’s position, about how he wanted to steal everything away from me!”

‘Schiavo.’ Texas’s father pondered, ‘Where have I failed you?’

“And you have the guts to tell me you did not issue the command. Don’t even think for a second that I’ll spare you any pity for being senile. You’re going to die here and when you get to hell, you better be on your knees, pleading for my father’s forgiveness. I’ll. Fucking. Make. Sure.”

Behind bloody drapes of hair were the bloodshot eyes of a monster. Not even a shred of humanity lingered within those eyes. Seeing them would freeze anyone to the core. Many would run. To stand in her path, in front of madness itself, was asking for death itself. Many would run, but not him. This fickle facade was a lie he had seen often in Texas’s eyes. Deep down within those irises, into her very soul, she was in agony. He shifted away from the telephone and stood before her.

“Fight me.” Lappland ordered, still aiming the tip of her blade at his head. “Fight me here and now unto your death.”

Mirroring her, he raised his walking cane by the collar and pointed. His very reflection was entrapped within her eyes but he was no prisoner, nor was she the warden. A loose white strand of hair fluttered to the winds blowing in the office. Perfectly harmonious to the world within him, he stood tall against the feral beast before him.

To the sights of a giant, Lappland gulped.

Squeezing her handle and thus intensifying the brilliant energy, her eyes crawled all over him. No blades materialized. No silhouettes of a concealed weapon poked out of his robes. Nothing ordinary was noted of his walking cane. Nothing at all. Was this a trick? Was his walking cane a scabbard to a hidden blade? Was she being watched by somewhere else? No, he must be underestimating her; To wield a walking cane against the likes of her was insulting. Was it a bait?

Her breathing hastened. Her arms tensed. Her eyes twitched.

He saw through it all.

He grasped his cane by the handle and smacked the ground by the ferrule.

Lappland was about to pounce.

“I will not fight you, child.”

“... What?!” Lappland growled as she saw him going ahead and pouring himself a cup of tea. “I said fight me! Fight me! Fight me for fuck’s sake, you senile ignorant bastard!”

“And what will that accomplish?” He croaked it out after coughing a bit, “Matter of fact, weren’t you here to assassinate me? Requesting for a fight takes up a lot more hassle than killing me where I stand.”

“Don’t play games with me and face me, you coward. Don’t even try to talk yourself out of this. You’ll pay for killing off my family.”

“You don’t understand, child.” He took a sip before he returned to where he had his staredown. “Do you not see my dwindling white hair or my frail body? My time of wielding a blade has long past me. To engage in combat once again would take whatever is left of me and I would rather pass away peacefully.”

“Peacefully…” She could help but laugh, “You left the dirty work to your underboss and the rest of this disgusting family. You’re too far deep into this mafia business, playing everyone like pawns to your game. Their blood, alongside my family’s, is on your hands. A peaceful death? You absolutely sicken me.”

“My right-hand man’s dealings were done without my notice. I’ve sent Texas to hunt him down, but of course, such excuses will not reverse the ramifications from his treachery. While I dream of a peaceful death, you are right that such shall stay as a dream. As such, I am willing to take responsibility and die by your blade.”

Lappland’s eyes widened. She averted her gaze to the dirtied carpets and sought for an answer to this. Her blade lowered. It was still pointing at him but no longer was it aligned to his head. She looked back, only to see him unfazed.

“I must ask you, child, what you wish to accomplish here.”

“Are you…” She furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m here to exact justice by purging all of you.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why?!” Lappland raised her blade. “You dogs slaughtered my entire family! My brothers, my father, everyone I ever loved! You killed them all, and you were about to kill me off too. You rats took everything away from me and you’re asking me why I stand before you?! You took everything from me!”

“Not everything, child.” He said, “You still have your life.”

“My life?! My miserable life is worth nothing. I am nothing. Look at me! Look at my Originium crystals! I was born into nothing and with this forsaken infection, I became lesser than nothing! My father…” Her blades quivered. “He blessed me by taking me under his wing. He gave me the entire world when no one else could. He was my entire world, and you took that away from me. You. I have nothing because of you and your wicked family.”

“And you wish for Texas to share the same fate?”

“I…” Rage riddled her tongue, but she caught it. Perplexed, she soured up to the thought of it. Two different answers were lodged in her throat and it was choking her.

“I may not be able to speak on behalf of your late foster father, but allow me, a father, to impart a message. No child should ever be responsible for their parent’s mistakes. No child, also, should sacrifice themselves for their parents, be it for their lives or their cause. You treading down this path of vengeance will be dishonoring your late father’s wishes. He wants you safe and away from harm’s way but to embark on this perilous path…”

“Stop fucking preaching me. Patronizing me like some fucking priest and yet you were the one who ruined me. Telling me to steer away from ‘this path’ after robbing me of everything… You bastard.”

“It is the truth. No father would ever wish harm for their children; The solemn role of sacrifice alone belongs to him and only him.”

“AND WHERE’S MINE? IN THE GRAVE, BECAUSE OF YOU!” She tried her best to stifle her crying.

Texas’s father balled up his fists to the ugly sight of a crying child.

“... That is why I am truly sorry for your loss. He was a great ally, a great friend and, more importantly, a great father. I reiterate again that my life is forfeit for my subordinate’s fault. However, give me your ear and listen to me.” He gulped down his tea and put down the teacup. He threw his walking cane aside and hobbled to her. “If you were to tread down this path, only one end awaits you and that is death. Until you die, you will be doomed to suffer. To be haunted by visages of all your victims, to be accursed forevermore by the burden of vengeance and to be diseased by this cancer of a loneliness in your heart, nothing else awaits you besides turmoil and despair. Do you think that’s what your father wants?”

“What do you know of what my father wants?”

“He wants you to have a home and family, to keep you safe and away from this accursed fate of living here in Terra as a Siracusan Lupo. Tempting fate to take you away is nothing more than going against his wishes.”

Lappland cocked back her blade up to his face. He gave way for the blade to not slice his face open. “You understood absolutely nothing about my father and his wishes. Look at my blades. These were his parting gifts to me. A blessing and a curse; The very reason why he has perished and why I lived on in his honor. To tell me that he wishes me to have my tail between my legs and be a coward…”

“You failed to see, child. You are still blinded by your wrath.”

“You…” Lappland raised a blade up and was about to swing at him.

“Child, what is the purpose of a blade?”

She halted her swing, which was mere inches away from his shoulder. Again, he was unfazed. Rather, he was patient for an answer, in spite of the flames hissing next to his ear.

“Wha…”

“What is the purpose of a blade, dear child?”

“What are you on now, you senile old man?”

“Answer me.”

“Stop with your sermons, I swear!” Even with her barking, her hands were frozen.

“The blade serves a singular purpose. To kill. However, therein lies a purpose for it. Why must you kill?”

“For revenge!”

“Wrong.”

No riposte came back from her.

“The blade is a beautiful servant, but without a master, it is not complete. Without a reason or calling, it sleeps. Only when one acts with it shall it become whole; The blade is not swung with one’s hands but instead with the heart. Tell me, child! What does your heart say?”

Her face soured up even more to the ugly truth. Again, she stayed silent with her blade hovering over him.

“Your heart is invaded by anger. It no longer beats for anyone anymore; It is withering away in your chest. It speaks of the cruelty of this world because you’ve allowed your heart to be corrupted. Selfish child, you are embracing what is destroying you. What awaits you is hellfire razing the plains you traverse with blood raining down forevermore. Nothing will ever absolve you of it if you don’t let go.”

“Let… Go?” She growled at him as she quaked. “Let go of my family? Let go of my father?!”

“No, child.” His heart, in spite of the inevitable end, beated clear of fear. “Never let go of your family. Their tender memories are why you swing your blade but you shan’t swing out of rage or revenge. They bestowed these blades not for violence but for peace; Not to be used for vengeance but to protect. You are not a slave of life. From where you stand, you are a free spirit.”

Lappland hung her head.

“Should you believe that my life is still forfeit, then please. If you don’t, let me help you stand back up, child. Rest. Be with me and Texas. You can have a new family here, with us.”

She shut her eyes and paced her frantic breathing. Her shoulders were raised and, in a timely motion, fell. The thunderstorm outside, while it was still raging on, was letting up. Texas’s father had every opportunity to dive into her and disarm her, but his words shall be the blade that shall cut into her heart; He wielded nothing in his hands, but his blade remained sharpened.

Lappland faced him and opened her eyes. He did not see the demon anymore. He saw her.

The blade was raised.

It fell.

It hacked into his collarbone and dug itself a bit deeper.

“Lapp…” He groaned as he clamped down hard on the wound. “Why?”

Without a word spared, Lappland forced it out of him.

Blood was gushing out.

Crashing onto the floor, he pressed against the wound and wailed at this searing pain. All the lights in his office were flickering and pulsating before him.

No longer able to tolerate the sight, Lappland headed out the office. For a moment by the doorframe, she stopped and felt her father’s final letter in her pocket. Her head was empty. No thoughts were scalding her. No voices were demanding more bloodshed. Nothing disturbed her. Nothing. She headed downstairs to the ground floor and out of the villa compound. Underneath the thunderstorm, she ventured to the meadows. With that, she stared at the mountain and waited.

Texas’s father braced against the frontside of his desk. Still clutching down on his wound, he forced himself to take deep breaths instead of losing his rhythm to shallow ones. He needed to breathe. He needed to live. He needed to stay awake for a few more minutes. Just a few more. Grunting, he conjured up one last crystal blade and thrusted it into the wound. He lodged it deep into the site of injury and, fortunately enough, was enough to diminish the bleeding. Not stop it, but at least it was not a fountain.

He was still alive. He was grateful that he was. Lappland had every chance to eviscerate him, much more slice him to half with her brute strength and her scorching blade.

More importantly to him, his words had finally reached Lappland.

He knew so.

Her wrathful gaze, that of a devil’s, softened.

His fingers dug deeper into his wound.

“Please…” His eyes pierced into the heavens. “A few more…”

===

10:21am.

5 minutes after Lappland’s confrontation.

Texas jumped out of her taxi and sprinted under the pouring rain.

Cold corpses greeted her ever since the compound entrance. Bullet holes, depressions and scratches redecorated the walls and furniture. Under flashing lightning bolts and flickering lights throughout the compound, what haunted her was her morbid imagination re-enacting their deaths.

‘Please be safe, father.’

Racing through the absolute mess of the hallways and staircases, her feet pounded. If only she had more time to pay respects to what used to be her colleagues and acquaintances…

‘Please.’

Up the final staircase and amidst the dark hallway, the office light beamed out. Betraying the gentle shine were the door hinges popping off the frames and splinters littered by its feet.

‘Father, no…’

Her nightmare was coming true.

She peeked past the door frame into the office.

There he was. By his desk, slouched over with an arm wrapped across his torso, motionless.

“FATHER!”

She sprinted towards him and clutched him by the shoulders. His hands were buried into the deep gash in his shoulder with a crystal blade in his shoulder. Most of it was gone, with the lingering length flaking away.

“FATHER, PLEASE. WAKE UP.”

If it was any other day, it would never end up like this. Why today, of all days? Whimpering, she was fighting against the overwhelming misery taking her soul.

“Dear… Daughter…” Her father groaned out with all of his breath.

“Father! I’ll get you an ambulance. We can still…” She gritted her teeth and condemned all of these tears pouring out. “We can still save you. Just hold on, please!”

His father shook his head. “I’m… I’m happy… To be your father…”

“Father, please. Don’t…” What else could she say? What was there to do? “Don’t… Don’t go… Please.”

“Don’t… Cry… Dear. You’ve cried enough…”

Texas bit down her lips.

If only she was there for him.

If only she was there for him at all.

She had not paid him back anything. Not love. Not admiration. Not even a single drop of respect. Nothing. Not yet, she urged herself to keep herself afloat with that thought. Not yet. She shook her head against this final hour. Wincing, she shut her eyes. Seeing him like this was enough to kill her.

A weak hand graced her cheek.

“You…”

Its frail thumb swept away a tear.

“You have…”

His eyes met hers.

“Your mother’s… Eyes…”

A single tear parted from him.

His hand thudded on the floorboards.

“Father?”

Nothing would ever change the tender smile of his face.

“Father?!”

Nothing would ever change the peaceful look in his eyes.

“FATHER?!”

Nothing.

“NO.” She hugged him.

She dared not to let go, otherwise he will be gone forever. Her howls loudened as she tried to wake him up from slumber. Tears, like time, seeped from her grasp, and she begged for it to stay with her.

Just for one more minute.

One more.

“No… Please…”

Where did the time go?

Where?

How did she fail to notice his hair whitening with each passing day? How did she fail to notice him walking slower, or eating slower, or speaking slower? How? It was right there before her. She was blind to it all. She was blind. She failed. She failed in becoming his daughter. She was blinded by trauma and by it again shall she lose another. Why was it all she saw? Why had it stolen her sights to what mattered truly in her life? All she wanted all this while was to have a family to fall back on, a father to love her. But no, she kept lying to herself on that front; Her father had loved her all this while in his own way. It was her own self that she could not love; Her inadequacy; Her distant demeanor away from everyone, including the memory of her own mother who loved her dearly, all of it was her fault and her fault alone.

“WHY?” She cried her heart out to the heavens above as if they owed her an answer. Here in his office, alone, she cried out.

Her heart beated. It writhed deep in her chest. She had always believed that her heart died with her mother, but now, it beated. It always had. She was too much of a coward to face that fact. Acknowledging and accepting that fact meant that she needed to move on from her. That alone will undo her. Wallowing in her past was all she ever knew. Nothing else. It was her way of life. It was what helped her strive for a future.

Now, with her father within her embrace?

What future was there to fight for?

No friends. No family. Nothing.

“Why…” With her wailing swallowing her words, she coughed out that question.

Why?

Why was it only now did this foolish daughter awaken to her senses? Why was it only now had she learnt of the time long gone and the relationships long burnt? Why, then, would death ever answer her pleas for it?

She screamed. Her throat was getting ripped apart by her visceral scream, but she screamed with every inch of her soul. She screamed out.

No one was left standing here to comfort her. No one.

What she would do to travel back in time and honor her father and mother…

…

Something metallic hit the ground below her. Loosening her embrace, she saw a golden shine next to her father’s hand. It was the very pendant that housed the aged photo of her and her late parents.

“Father…”

She cradled it and opened it up.

There it was. The same old photo. Both her mother and father embraced their dear daughter here. Clutching it, she pressed it against her forehead.

“Idiot…” She barked at herself. “You fucking idiot…”

All this bravado of attaining glory and honor to the Texas family was all for naught. What was the point of it if she never honored them? The ugly truth scorched her and she was at its mercy.

She was a foolish daughter. But now, no more.

She shut her eyes. She clasped her hands together, with the pendant in between, and prayed to him. Her hands quaked, with its loose chain dangling back and forth. “Please… Father…”

Her heart was unwinding; It was too soon, but alas.

“I… I’m sorry…”

She bit down on her teeth and screamed with every inch of her soul to force these words buried in her heart. It was long overdue.

“I… I’ve always loved you… Please…”

She felt hands like feathers and arms like wool.

This sensation was enough for her to break down. She was scared of being naked and vulnerable, but this heavenly embrace promised her that it will keep her together. For a moment, whilst she pried out the dagger in her heart, she sought deeper and deeper in this gracious moment her long-awaited peace.

For a moment, she saw her mother and father hugging her.

“Please rest in peace with mother… Please.”

Stifling her cries, she opened her eyes and faced him again. Misery was overwhelming her and so she kissed the pendant.

Raising her head, she looked out of the office towards the balcony and the meadows. Against the heavy gray storm razing the plains, a white silhouette braved it. Her.

“You…”

Sorrow gave way to wrath.

For one last time, she bowed to her father. “Excuse me…”

She bolted out the door, down the stairs and marched to the meadows.

Underneath this turbulent storm, above the graceful meadows and with emotions running high, she approached her. Against the frigid rain, under the blackened sky, on this forsaken land, Texas brushed it all off. Nothing else existed beyond her.

“Lappland!” Texas howled at her.

Her sparring partner, this snow-white figure whose blood was washed away to the grass below, looked over her shoulder.

“So, you’ve returned, Texas.” Lappland grinned. She began to laugh, to which Texas swore to silence it once and for all. She laughed and laughed, louder than the booming thunder and fiercer than the lightning cracking the skies open. She laughed, loosing her more and more into the black skies above.

“How does it feel being a lone wolf now?”

Chapter Text

18th March, 20XY. 10:43 am.

Lappland’s eyes were glued to the mountaintops down the meadow and recalled those snowy alleyways. She was a starving cub back then; Malnourished, abandoned and, worst of all, infected. No one spared her even a piece of bread. Instead, all passed by with glances. Were they with pity or disdain? It did not matter, nor would she care to decipher it. For her, they were all mountains that towered over her frail self. She was a mere pup, and it was a miracle that she managed to live until now, let alone not be trafficked or harvested for her organs.

“Dad…” She could not help herself. It was a first for her not to bark out his name.

Suomi, too, was a mountain in her eyes. Even with a puberty spurt, she could never size up to him. He was a giant to her, and tip-toeing to break even was futile. However, he was different from the other mountains. Barren winter did not reside within his heart. Spring, instead, bloomed around him, with flowers blossoming and trees standing proud. To be adopted by him breathed back life into her and granted her a second chance around heartless mountains. More runts, like her, danced with her upon those peaceful meadows. Racing up and down those plains, tussling all over the dirt, they were all grateful to grow up by this benevolent mountain’s feet.

Nearby where Lappland stood, a lightning bolt struck down yet another tree. Its thick trunk cracked wide open before crashing down onto the fields. She pitied whichever flowers were buried underneath the trees, and mourned for her brothers once again. If only she had the liberty to bury her family properly, but cremation was fine too. Or so she believed.

“I hope you all are still roughhousing up in heaven. I miss you guys…”

Life giveth and, like some sick joke, life shall taketh again. There she was again, dwelling in her self-pity.

Malnourished, abandoned and, worst of all, infected.

This time, however, those mountains were a tiny bit smaller. And that was enough for her to scale them. Venturing out throughout the corners of Siracusa busied her with one hell of a field trip. One by one, scaling and braving it all, she conquered them all.

All but one.

“What is the purpose of a blade, dear child?”

She clutched on her tools’ hilts as if she was choking them. The legacy of her family, these birthrights, had helped her scale the tallest of mountains; Nothing was beyond her reach. It was her destiny to reach the top and top all of them. And yet, from the meadows underneath the thunderstorm, her snow-white pearls of eyes kept peering into the mountain before her.

“You are not a slave of life. From where you stand, you are a free spirit.”

And he was right.

She was a free spirit.

Venturing out from her home taught her to demand strength from the earth, the soil, below her feet. Unchained and unbounded, with no weights or shackles to clamp her down, her rage tore through Siracusa. Through her own filthy hands and dirtied feet, with bruises and cuts painting her body, she climbed out of her miserable hole and reclaimed her justice. Blessed was her with the legacy of her family invested in her, for she had dominated mountains one after another until none dared oppose her. Many more mountains waited for her, but to see those golden rays of sunshine by the mountaintop was enough for her. Basking in such a soothing light cracked a smile on her face.

And yet, to this mountain before her, no sunlight shone upon her. The hailing rain lightened up, but those stubborn clouds remained.

How many mountains had she conquered? Four jingled on her belt, but she may or may not have lost a few more here and there. One more belonged to her and it was left rotting back in the office upstairs. However, she was not compelled to retrieve it. Not yet.

“Be with me and Texas. You can have a new family here, with us.”

Why did she not take up the offer?

Even during the confrontation back in her office, that mountain had towered over her. It reduced her back to her being a helpless cub. Would there ever be another mountain where she could throw away all her earthly worries and dance to her heart’s delight?

‘No one could ever replace you, Dad.’ Raindrops streamed down from her cheek. ‘No one.’

Was it a bad idea to take a break? She shook her head. Another mountain waited for her.

And another.

And then the next.

And the next…

‘Home…’ She hung her head and closed her eyes. As much as she hoped to be spared of this fate, no one will help her shoulder this burden.

“Lappland!” Texas howled at her.

She looked over her shoulders and saw her reflection through the scowl of her broken friend. That scowl. That demented scowl that always greeted her through shattered mirrors and broken stained glass…

Lappland had lost her father.

Lappland had her sworn brothers.

Lappland even lost her home.

Life crackled in laughter through booming thunder and ravaging lightning. It granted her a choice this time, unlike before.

Would she be willing to lose her life or her best friend, the only person she cherished like a sister?

“So, you’ve returned, Texas.” She laughed. She laughed and laughed louder than the booming thunder and fiercer than the lightning crackling the skies open. She laughed, losing her more and more into the black skies above.

“How does it feel being a lone wolf now?”

===

Hunger.

No longer did they feel the icy cold taps of raindrops, nor did they hear the disorienting booming of thunder. What robbed them of their senses was this hunger within. It was not the type of hunger that would be satiated with a meal or two. It was the hunger of a caged wolf, shackled and chained. This feral feeling erupting within them was enough to stave off an empty stomach, a parched tongue, a bruised body or a broken soul.

They hungered.

For freedom?

For revenge?

For a future?

Only this meadow they stood on knew, for it had sipped on blood they have spilled during their sparring sessions. Now, however, upon this turbulent morning, they were about to gulp down a bloodbath.

“C’mon, Texas! Tell me! Stop sulking over your father’s death. You’re killing the mood!” She howled laughing.

“You…” Her glare scorched Lappland. She began sprinting towards her, only to be halted by Lappland’s blades. Energy raged across those blades as if they barked to be let loose and tear Texas asunder.

“C’mon, Texas!” Her smile flashed all of her fangs at her, “It’s been awhile! I’ve been busy over my month-long holiday! Where’s the hospitality?”

“I’m about to rip your throat.”

“That’s not how you greet an esteemed guest, let alone your best friend. This merry occasion, our destined reunion, ought to be celebrated!”

‘Breathe.’ That single word pounded against Texas. Against Lappland’s sprawling madness, where her laughter could never be silenced from plugging her ears, it demanded Texas. ‘Breathe. Sharpen your focus. Breathe…’

Her eyes zeroed in on Lappland. Until Lappland was all she saw, her eyes honed. Until she drowned out the scenery unto a blur and casted away her anger that clouded her eyes, her eyes obeyed to that single demand.

‘Breathe.’

Lappland’s heart beated in her throat to this sight. She felt this bewitching burn from Texas’s glare rushing through her skin. Goosebumps riddled her skin. Many felled to her blades. All of them tried their best to intimidate her by their stares, but that only thrilled her to hunt them down. To see those shallow staredowns reduced to a cry of help excites her. Texas’s stare was different. Not at all.

Lappland shivered, delighted to be face to face with Death herself.

Before her was the apex predator.

“I… I knew you’d understand, Texas! I always knew!” She laughed, “Thank the Heavens! I finally have met my match!”

She sheathed her blades and applauded for her. Thunder drowned out her claps, but she competed against them.

“Why, Lappland?!” Texas barked out, “Why must you kill my father?! Why him?!”

What was there to say? Lappland looked up to the sky and pondered. What was the right thing to say? Was there even an answer to appease her? She doubted it, because nothing would talk her out of this destined duel. Not that she would call it off. Not now. Never. What would she say, then? Should she rile her up even more with some provocation? Should she soothe her with some closure?

What else was there to say? Texas’s breathing sharpened with each passing second. Why was Lappland biding her time? Nothing will excuse her from her genocide. Nothing would ever justify her storming through the villa compound and murdering her father. Nothing. Her rage began to boil the longer she had to wait. She blamed herself for not defending her father and instead went ahead with hunting down Schiavo. And to think that Lappland was compelled to.

“I did what I thought was right.” Lappland beamed out an innocent yet satisfied look with that answer.

“What…” Texas almost caved in to her bloodlust.

“Yep.” Lappland nodded in defeat to that fact. “I thought it was right for me to exact vengeance and deliver justice unto those deserving of their comeuppance.”

“What did my father even do to deserve this?”

“Your underboss, whatever his name was, called in the shots and slaughtered my entire family. I thought it’d be a good idea to storm your castle and wring out some answers on where he was. However…” Lappland grasped her belt with her fingers fidgeting for the hilts. “I lost myself in my madness and went ahead. To pay back all the hospitality you all have accommodated me with this… I almost feel ashamed of myself.”

“You…!”

Texas charged in and clocked Lappland on the face with all her might. Lappland beared the brunt, regained her footing and side-stepped the charging beast, before pushing her down to the ground. Texas shuffled back to her feet, but Lappland booted her straight in her stomach. Texas tumbled back, coughing while rubbing her core.

All this while, Lappland’s hysteric laughter blared out.

“I knew you’d understand me! I exactly knew, ever since I laid eyes on you, when we met for the first time at the airport, that we are not too different. Ambitious, reckless, and all the more suicidal for our dreams!”

“I’m… I’m not like you!” Texas charged again and threw a flurry of heavy punches. Lappland weaved past them all, before clutching one hand by the wrist. She sunk her nails deep into her wrist and let the trickling blood be washed away by the rain. “Let… Let go!”

“Tell me, Texas. We are nothing more but two lone wolves; Two nobodies fighting for absolutely nothing left anymore. What’s the point of fighting, huh? No families to kill for, no friends to call for drinks, nothing! Wanna hear my answer? It’s because it’s in our nature. The thrill of the hunt… Those tingling pricks you feel in your heart with every beat… Such a wonderful feeling!”

Texas, failing to wriggle out of her grasp, tugged Lappland in and headbutted her. Both fell to their knees with blood flowing down from their foreheads. It was not enough to silence that fucking laughter, and Texas swore to rip Lappland’s tongue out.

“Tell me, Texas! What do you think?”

Lappland propped an arm on her knee and rested her head on her palm. What will Texas do now? Become unhinged and charge straight at her? Answer her questions with tailored lies from her heart? She fell deeper into Texas’s eyes.

Those amber irises.

Kindling within Texas were the embers of rebellion. Like a moth to this flame, Lappland was drawn into Texas’s boisterous spirit. This firestorm blazing within melted all of Texas’s chains to her familial responsibilities. Chaos razed it all down until nothing more stood. It enticed Lappland to be drawn nearer, no matter how scorching hot it was. It promised her a dance into the neverending night, until their heart’s desires and to the bright future that promised them freedom. Why then, no matter how long Lappland stared into her, was there a wildflower blooming ever so beautifully within the eye of the firestorm? Neither its petals were roasted nor its stalk singed to a crisp. Swaying to the whims of the flames, the wildflower danced, enshrined within the storm. It braved against the maddening rhythm of the encircling hellfire. It rooted itself against bloodlust’s temptation.

What Lappland would do to pour fuel to the fire, to see how much more will this wildflower take.

“I’m waiting…” Lappland teased Texas further.

Balling her fist tighter, Texas invested more effort not to concede into her rage and snap Lappland’s neck. Her twisted sense of justice needed to be purged. It had went on for far too long and Texas swore to be the one that will uproot it. Why then was she not pouncing now? Lappland was laid before her, exposing her belly as if she knew Texas would do absolutely nothing. Was it a taunt? An invitation? What was it? She fell deeper into Lappland’s eyes.

Those pure white pearls.

An eclipse was encroaching halfway into its purity. This looming shadow was creeping in, willing to taint it whole. Blizzards pelted against it, fighting it back until its stalemate. This violent tango for space raged on within her eyes…

No.

She was mistakened.

Neither side fought for territory nor waited to be consumed whole. Not at all. They were perfectly balanced. Two halves of white and grey. They were one and together, and yet perfectly distinct. Their identities, a blizzard overshadowing everything that stood against it, roared to life. There Texas was, stuck in this impasse. Amongst the knee-high snowfall after the blizzard settled down, within Lappland’s eyes, Texas reached out a hand and let a snowflake land on her palm. One glided down and melted. A beautiful thing, as much as it was fragile. Would she keep standing up and trudge forth, or would she fall down and become consumed by the blanketing snowfall and the blizzard afterwards?

‘Ambitious, reckless, and all the more suicidal for our dreams!’

What Texas would do, if anything ever mattered.

“What do I think?”

“Yes!” Lappland welcomed her with such loving arms wide open. “Tell me! I beg of you to ask me what was the point of it all! I can’t decide anymore! I’m absolutely lost! Blinded! Misguided! Why did I kill everyone now?”

“... You’re right. You’re right, Lappland. We are nobodies now. Nothing is left for us to return to. What is there to ever welcome us back? What I’ll do to take it all back…”

Lappland broadened her smile, waiting by the edge of her seat.

“... And yet, I have no reason why I should fucking entertain you.”

Lappland’s arms crashed down and slumped her shoulder. “Eh?”

“Don’t ask me why you’d massacre your way out of Siracusa, to crash here in Columbia to kill off my father, only for you to sit your ass down there and ask me why you’re here in the first place!” She barked it all out in one deep breath. She panted afterward, catching her breath after letting it out of her system. “I’m not some deranged lunatic preaching her own sense of justice whilst killing everything that even moves. I’m not you.”

“Sense of justice, huh?” Lappland blinked a few times before her smile returned. “... Alright. Good point. You’re quite on the nose, actually.” Her tone tendered. "I... I mean, I did what I did because I thought it was right. I have to. I mean, look at me. I wiped off so many parasites in Siracusa! I promised that I'll avenge my father and my brothers, and I did. I swore to it. What I'm doing is justified. All this scum must be purged off. These bloodsucking leeches, feral hounds, ill-moral snakes, all these assholes deserve to kneel before my father and suffer for the rest of eternity! I'm doing something right, Texas! Believe me! I am doing what’s right. I must be…”

Her smile faded away as she inspected her hilts.

“I thought so until I talked to your father. I’ve forgotten what guilt was, until I met him."

She looks at her blades and wondered.

"You know, Texas. Your father gave me good advice. Once I kill you, I can continue on my quest to bring justice onto Siracusa and purge every single parasite there is. That's what I wanted, but we both know that will never be achieved. I’ll die off in the midst of it all, and even if I don’t, would Siracusa even change? There will always be rats. There will always be gangs! There will never be an end to this! Siracusa will always be full of these assholes; It’s as if we were doomed to begin with!”

Lappland laughed. She could have laughed harder if it did not hurt her so much.

“I can’t, Texas! I can’t! I can’t stomach this anymore! And yet, here we are! Nothing more than names waiting to be forgotten! I killed to avenge my dad, and I’ll kill again, but for what? I… I must be doing something right, Texas. Tell me I am.”

Lappland’s eyes met Texas’s. Betraying her crazed smile were eyes begging for help.

Within the puffy snowfall, a starving cub waited for the wildflower to say its answer. Its weak eyes hung onto those amber orange petals and were mesmerized by it swaying to the faint breeze. To be consumed by the snowfall or to rest easy, it rested its last hopes on the wildflower.

Texas hung her head and, by instinct, clutched onto her pendant.

“... No.” The firestorm began to encircle the starving cub and yet, the frail beast could not rip her eyes away from the flower. “To those you have slaughtered, I can’t say whether it was justified or not. However, for killing my father… That I can’t stand. You… You lost it, Lappland.”

Lappland closed her eyes and let it sink in. She hoisted herself up.

“Maybe you’re right, Texas.” She unsheathed her blades. No resonating crackle of energy pulsed through it. For now, they were mere slabs of metal, crafted for one purpose. Only one. She grimaced, her face souring up, and yet she forced a smile out. “I hope that you will end this cycle for them. Don’t take it personally, Texas; I won’t take pleasure killing my only friend too.”

“... You’re right, Lappland,” Texas spoke out with downcast eyes, “Nothing awaits us after this, so this fight is only meant for us. Forgive me.”

Lappland’s smile.

It was not poisoned with madness this time. It was a weak one, yet sincere as if she was sharing it with a dear friend for the last time.

"Don’t feel too bad, Texas. We were all doomed from day one. It was only a matter of time 'till we both get exterminated. Who am I to speak of rats when we are of the same breed? With that being said…” Lappland raised her blade and pointed at her without a shred of energy to distort this precious sight before her. “Please slaughter me where you stand, Texas, and grant me the honor of blackened death. Will I lose my life here and rest forever, or will I lose myself and become a demon of the land, only to be hunted down? You shall decide here and now, Texas. Either way, one of us will carry on the legacy of the other, and nothing will change that. However, once we both reunite in the afterlife, we can talk about it over a nice drink. I’ll introduce you to Dad."

A giggle, small and comforting, leaked out from Lappland.

Then a guffaw, warm and hearty.

Finally, at last, that maddening howl, maniacal and thundering.

Rejoice! The last chapter! The final epoch! The ultimate end! Gusts like those of a tempest roared out as her eyes pierced the blackened skies. Lappland opened her arms and welcomed the approaching storm. Spiraling out of control, she laughed until her lungs would collapse, and only then did she laugh out even more. The blizzard within her eyes had finally overwhelmed her. The eclipse within her eyes was finally offset. Before Texas was a broken woman, fractured and shattered, and will forevermore be scarred.

‘She lost it.’ Texas peered into the sprawling madness before her. Many had died for their way of life, but none were committed to such a religious frenzy.

And worse, she understood it.

She, in her own way, embodied it too. This pitiful life, wallowing and swallowed whole in her ideals, was a consequence of how she handled her grief. During her days cooped up in her bedroom staring at the meadows, she wondered why she was still fighting…

“Mother… I’ve always loved you…” She whispered to herself.

Let peace arise from solitude. Let her soul beckon forth the serenity instilled by her father. Let her be whole again against this swirling storm. This firestorm within her, encircling and enveloping her with licks of flames, robbed her of all hopes of bridging the gaps between her and her father. However, the wildflower retreated back to her dojo in her mind. It grappled and wrestled the flames, being seared and burnt, until the flame was reduced to a single candle. It flickered and fluttered but was never snuffed out. Her mind honed in. Her soul resonated clear. Her heart ached but she gritted.

“Father… Guide me!” She growled out through gritted teeth.

The world hurt, but it was exactly because it was made of love. Her parents’ love, their dreams, their hopes, their legacy, all of it fuelled her spirit. It hurt. It hurt so much, and yet she embraced herself tighter. She will not run away anymore. She will not cower beneath the firestorm that encircled her. Even in the face of death, her failures were thrown in the fire. For once in her miserable, pathetic life, let her right her wrongs! Let her find her solace! Let the wildflower control these hellish flames and be free!

Texas cracked her eyes open.

“SWORD RAIN!”

She clutched onto thin air and ripped it apart. Crystallized swords materialized around her. Against the black and dreadful backdrop of despair, the flames of rebellion burnt out. Searing hot orange and yellow blades pointed straight down at Lappland, waiting for her command. Before Lappland was a broken woman, fractured and shattered, and will forevermore be scarred.

Make no mistake.

Before Lappland was a broken woman whose heart cried out for the future.

White violent bursts of energy flared out of Lappland’s swords.

“THAT’S RIGHT, TEXAS. THAT’S RIGHT!” Lappland cried out, “UNLEASH MORE POWER! YOU MUST! BE FREE FROM IT ALL! BE SET FREE!”

‘Be at peace whilst conjuring your blade, for your blade answers to your heart. Was this what you meant all this time, Father?’ Texas recalled those sleepless nights in the dojo where she could not crystallize even one, ‘... Forgive me for being a fool all this while.”

She gripped down on two blades in her hands.

Breathe in…

‘Lappland…’

Breathe out…

‘... You can’t stop me.’

The dampened green leaves of trees nearby rustled out loud, uncertain of who shall emerge alive out of this duel. The soaked blades of grass below them were at the mercy of the whistling gusts, electrified by the ensuing confrontation. The skies above them thundered out, chanting out their names and betting on who will come out alive. Before each other, they faced themselves in all of their earnestness. One of the same breed, aligned on the same destiny.

A lightning bolt struck down. A blinding white swallowed their sights.

With that, they rushed down the meadow.

Chapter Text

“DANCE, TEXAS! DANCE FOR YOUR LIFE!”

Lappland's Wolf Spirit, those crackling white bolts of energy, blazed down the meadows. These bolts were feral wolves. They sprinted for Texas's flesh, ready to sink their teeth into her, but their target weaved between them. More hailed down upon her like lightning, with that sickening laughter booming down upon Texas. Each wolf grazing her charred her clothing blacker, and her wincing grew louder with the endless onslaught.

Against that, the distance between them shortened, meter by meter.

Lappland slashed downwards and aimed at Texas’s feet. Texas stopped, but the bolt dug into the ground beneath her.

*BOOM*

Mud and dirt flew. Texas crashed to the ground, her ears ringing, her head spinning, her lungs breathless. Even through all that, her eyes were still pinned on Lappland.

A white flurry raged throughout Lappland’s blades, ready for another charge. Crystallized blades darted to her. She slashed through the barrage, with yellow crystals vaporizing like fleeting ambers to the skies. One, however, plunged deep into her left thigh. Her leg buckled and gave way. Her knee slammed against the earth. Worse than a bullet wound or a dagger, Texas’s blade radiated out and Lappland felt its teeth eating her thigh inside out.

“Perfect.” Texas forced herself up and raced down the meadow. This was her moment; It was now or never.

A blazing white fury ravaged her left blade. It crackled and hissed, boiling Lappland’s fingertips as she gripped it by its cheek. Hotter and hotter did this lightning bolt grow unto a blinding white; The blackened skies above boomed out, pleased.

“GOOD LUCK, TEXAS!” Lappland laughed as she aimed down and chucked this lightning bolt.

Another barrage of crystallized blades darted down the meadows, trying to intercept the projectile, but it shattered underneath such force. Texas twisted her body away from the trajectory but it was a second too late. It nicked the side of her abdomen. Grunting, her bloodied fingers pressed against the gash.

*BOOM*

Her body ragdolled, crashing forward. Her head banged against the ground as her limbs tried to break fall. Her teeth bit against her tongue as she cried out for her body to listen to her. Tremors ruined her muscles. Ringing collapsed her hearing. Catching her breath was the worst; Fresh air was polluted with the tinge of blood on her tongue. Her eyes were still pinned down on Lappland, but it was a blur; That white silhouette grew in size before a blinding white crackled out above her. ‘Can’t… See…’

Such a pitiful sight. It painted a smile on Lappland’s face.

“GOTCHA, TEXAS!” Lappland double-handed her remaining sword. She swung. A horizontal slash ripped through the air.

Two crystallized blades dug into the ground in front of Texas. Her fingers clutched the hilts. She screamed out. She tugged on it and charged towards the slash. She slid underneath and all she was white.

*BOOM*

Her body crashed forward again. She was bruised. She was beaten. More importantly, she was fucking pissed. She roared as she summoned another barrage of crystallized swords.

Lappland hacked into the barrage, shattering most of it.

One plunged into her left bicep.

“T… TEXAS!” She crashed to the ground. Yellow, red, and white engulfed her arm. It was too much to bear; She swore to tear her entire arm out to end the pain. Clutching on the hilt and yoinking it out, with each inch out of her arm, her screams ripped through the skies above, almost silencing the thunderstorm.

“Focus…” Texas panted, gulping as much air as she could. Pushing her back up to a kneel was a terrible struggle. Everything before her wobbled and blurred. Cupping her ears did not silence the clamoring sirens from the explosions prior. The grass beneath her was lulling her back to them but she had to struggle. “Focus…”

Bit by bit, Texas found the strength to stand back up. Everything was close to knocking her out: These tempest gusts, her heavy body, her dwindling vigor…

Lappland felt the world collapsing around her. It spun as if the mountains, the meadows, and the trees, were all swallowed by a vortex. Everything rocked to and fro, back and forth. This rush! This high! This thrill!

“WONDERFUL! ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL!”

She propped herself back up and stood with welcoming arms for what was to come. She swayed to and fro, her limbs on fire, and roared out laughing.

‘How could she still laugh…?’ Texas gritted her teeth as she straightened herself.

A glint of silver winked at them.

“Dad’s…!” Lappland lunged as much as she could wobble.

Texas tried to cough out more barrages, but her focus was beyond her senses. With that, two crystallized blades lingered within her hands. Texas shook her head, ran her hands over her face, and sprinted to her.

Seeing her running down the meadows for her neck was enough for Lappland to feel her veins drugged with excitement. Despite that, only sputters of white energy fizzled out of her blade. What remained in her hand was merely cold steel.

“Guess it’s coming to the end, huh?” Lappland smirked as she dug her boot into the crater beneath her feet

“LAPPLAND!” Texas readied to thrust her swords.

Lappland kicked a patch of mud to Texas’s face.

Texas flinched, covering her face.

Lappland hacked her sword downwards on Texas, only to be caught by her two crystallized blades. Even without that white demonic energy, the blunt force was enough to chip off part of her blades.

Lappland flung her left limp arm and pressed down harder. Blood gushed out of her left bicep. Fire roasted her left arm. She needed this! She needed all of this to end! She needed her end, right here, right now!

Texas pressed against the cold blade. Her legs shuddered. Her arms trembled. Her mind was losing itself. And yet, she yelled out with all her might, pushing back. This needed to end! Now!

Lightning flashed as thunder boomed out.

"No more blades?” Lappland croaked out, still pressing down, “Aren’t you winded.”

"Same for you." Texas coughed, still pushing.

"Can’t blame me; No more gas in the tank. For you, however, to gamble on that fact and charge right in… You really are as reckless as me!”

"Spare me the sermon." The wildflower’s glare blazed deep into the blizzard’s eyes. "I'm done listening."

Twinkling sparks of yellow crystals began to form next to Texas.

"What a killjoy!" Lappland caught Texas’s blades with her blade’s peculiar cross-guard and raised all three blades high up, breaking her guard. She kicked her straight in the stomach.

“TEXAS!” Lappland slashed down.

It was too late to dodge the blade. Texas parried with her right blade, only for it to miss her head and instead hacked into her shoulder.

It was enough.

She thrust forth and straight into Lappland’s abdomen with the left blade.

They caught their breaths and listened to the deafening rain.

"Guess…" Lappland grunted, "Guess you're going to be the winner here."

Lappland let go of her blade, tugged Texas in, and punched her in the face.

Both of them fell.

Lappland crashed on all four limbs. She wished that Texas snuffed out her life, so she need not suffer right now. If the blade lodged in her abdomen was in her throat or heart, she need not feel her muscles spasming and writhing, promising to tear each other apart. If she plucked out the blade in her thigh, she need not feel boiling hot pin and needles prickling in her skin as her body fell cold. Even so, the grass beneath her, their shades betwixt green and red, softened to her touch. How long had it been since she had fallen asleep and dreamed? When was the last time she dreamt of being in her father’s arms?

Her limbs gave way. She crashed to her side and whimpered. Oh, how much she wanted to laugh at how pathetic she must be.

Raindrops struck the meadows a tad bit lighter. Blackened clouds above donned on a softer shade of grey. Trees were swaying a bit more modestly. Despite all this, Lappland’s eyes were pinned on the unwavering mountain. Even with the stinging pain ripping through her, her eyes admired the view.

That was until Texas approached her and obstructed the view.

Finally, she managed to cough out a laugh. A weak one; It was hard to laugh with a blade in your stomach.

"You won… Congrats… Texas.” Lappland coughed out blood. She clenched her fists. "Go on, then... Take your prize."

Texas wiped off the trickle of blood by the side of her mouth. Nothing else. No finishing blows were delivered. No fists or kicks were dished out. Not even a few words. Nothing. Her hand pressed against the gash in her shoulder.

"What are you waiting for?"

Her question fell on deaf ears, for they were listening to a memory.

A distant memory when the meadows were full of wildflowers like rainbows: red freesias, yellow marigolds, purple lavenders, and many more; When Texas was still a young lady with her hands intertwined with her mother as she danced to her singsong voice; When she laid her heavy head on her mother’s lap and promised her, until the end of time, that she will always love her.

Texas gripped her sword tighter.

To reduce this wailing lunatic to nothing more than a starving cub was nothing more than an insult. Before her, sprawled and wincing, was the monster that massacred hundreds. Before her, fading in and out of consciousness, was the devil that slaughtered her family. Before her, eyeing her for the final blow, was her friend. To see her begging for death…

"Texas!" Lappland's coarse voice sputtered out blood, "C’mon already… Just…"

“Tell me. Why?” Texas finally spoke.

“What’s… Wrong…?”

“You slaughtered your way out of Siracusa and riled me to fight you to the death. Even so, you prioritized retrieving your father’s blades over finishing me off. It was as if you gave up the fight… It was as if you have decided your fate.”

“Was I… So easy to read?” Lappland snickered as much as she winced, “Me? A back-alley cutthroat… Fighting someone like you? No fucking way…”

She laughed out as much as the lodged blade within her allowed. She was plagued with pain, but it never quenched her desire to laugh.

“It’s fine… Don’t feel too bad about me… My life was forfeited… The moment the mafia decided so…” She shook her head at that. “My life was forfeited ever since I was born.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Does it even matter to spare me… A few more seconds, Texas? I’m dying here… And nothing will change that… It’s my fate.” She cracked a smile. “... Can’t wait to see Dad…”

Texas raised her hand up and aimed the last sword in her hands straight for Lappland’s heart.

Was it right to deliver Lappland her end?

Imagine.

Cleansing her family’s name within the Siracusan mafia by gifting any one of the warring factions those accursed blades.

Receiving prestige and reputation within the mafia, thus granting her the golden opportunity to create a new Texas family.

Avenging her brethren…

Avenging her father…

Avenging the life she was robbed of…

The end of this chapter was nigh for her and all she needed to do was to deliver the final full stop. Honor and glory were all hers if she had signed off Lappland’s fate. Polishing the Texas family was all she desired. That was what she wanted, right? To honor her family? To honor her father and mother?

… What was the point of it all now?

Her blade shivered.

She was lying to herself. She knew that and yet she kept running away from the truth. Her mother and father harped on it, yet she kept dwelling within the firestorm swirling around her. All they wanted was a simple wish and it was reflected in her pendant. Reminiscing of a time when she was still enveloped within their warmth…

A tear streamed down her cheek and it was washed away by the rain from above. Wiping away the tear and lo and behold, Lappland had returned to her sights.

They had danced together on this meadow. They laid here together. They bantered with each other. They watched the sunset together. They chatted about their ambitions, their futures, their dreams underneath those starry nights. Were they all for naught? Was it too late for them to return to simpler times?

“I’m sorry, Lappland.”

Lappland’s smile widened and nodded.

Texas thrusted her blade down.

From a cascading downpour, the rain lifted to a drizzle. Gusts slowed down to breezes and leaves, to this welcomed change, glided and twirled. After an eternity, the late morning sun finally peeked through the thick grey curtains above.

Lappland could still feel herself breathing.

She cracked her eyes open and saw the crystallized blade plunged into the ground between her arm and body. Panicked eyes shot at a grimacing Texas.

“Texas?!” She croaked out her name, her smile fading away, “Why?!”

“All that proclamation of scaling all those mountains in your father’s name, and yet for you to lie down here accepting death…” Texas ripped out a length of fabric from her sleeves and knelt on Lappland’s left shoulder. “No. You don’t deserve it.”

“Let me go!” Lappland barked at Texas torniqueting her arm by the left shoulder. “I deserve to die! Let me die for fu-”

One good tug was enough to silence her wailing; Lappland’s arm was about to collapse with this squeeze around her shoulder.

“Stay still… There. Bleeding has stopped, at least for now.” Texas lifted her knee off Lappland’s shoulders. “Don’t try to rip it o-”

Lappland’s itchy hand rushed to rip it off. Texas plucked the blade out next to her and nailed that itchy hand down to the ground. Her patient screamed her head off but, in her defence, she did give a fair warning.

“Survive for a few more minutes,” Texas demanded as she marched back to the compound.

Seconds stretched out to minutes. Pinned down and tied up, if it was not her bleeding out that would kill her, it was the boredom. She rejoiced when Texas returned but wondered about the body she was lugging on her shoulder and the shovel in her hand.

Texas rested the body down next to her and prayed.

“What… What are you doing?”

“Giving my father a proper burial.”

“What for?”

“... Wouldn’t you give your father one too?”

All the cocky remarks in Lappland’s throat choked up.

“Before I forget… Stay still, lest you want me to stab you again.” Texas fetched an adrenaline shot from her pocket and injected it into Lappland’s right thigh. “There. This should keep you alive and awake, at least for the hour.”

The crystallized blade in Lappland’s right hand began to disintegrate. The wound by itself was enough to stop her from clenching a fist, let alone rip off the makeshift tourniquet.

“What are you…” She saw Texas fetching her foster father’s mementos and, by pure instinct, tried to crawl towards her. “Give those back! Texas! Those are mine!”

Texas stabbed the ground before Lappland without a word spared. She fetched her shovel and began to dig.

“Why, Texas? I don’t…” Lappland braced against her blades and forced every muscle within her legs to make her stand. Her legs wobbled and she grunted as she writhed, but her body will not let her give up. “Why won’t you finish me off?!”

“No point.” Heaps of dirt and mud were flung to the side.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WHY, TEXAS?! WHY WON’T YOU KILL ME ALREADY?! FINISH ME OFF! KILL ME!”

Goosebumps, pins, and needles eviscerated Lappland’s skin. Her hand dug its nail into her gaping left arm, desperate to keep herself together, lest she falls apart now. Despite that, Texas mustered every ounce of strength left in her weary body to keep on digging. It was a hopeless endeavor; Digging a six-foot hole would take an hour, much more due to her fatigue and how much heavier it was to scoop out wet soil. If only her shoulder was not too stiff due to the gash, but at least it was bandaged and drugged with painkillers. Still, who knew what would happen next? Lappland wasting and dying out? Texas passing out? Straggling mafioso knocking by the door?

All she knew was that she needed Father to rest by Mother’s side.

“ANSWER ME, TEXAS! ANSWER ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

By now, she managed to dig a pathetic one-foot grave, two if she was being generous with the measurements. Nowhere close. Panting, Texas rested against the shovel. “You’re right. I should have killed you so you’d stop pestering me.”

“DO IT THEN! SLASH MY THROAT! CHOP MY HEAD OFF! LET ME BLEED OUT!”

“What’s the point? We are two lone wolves with nothing more to fight for. Killing you wouldn’t resurrect my father now—”

“DON’T YOU WANT TO TAKE VENGEANCE FOR YOUR FATHER? HUH?! DON’T YOU WANT TO AVENGE ALL OF SIRACUSA FOR THE FATHERS, BROTHERS, AND SONS I’VE SLAUGHTERED? DON’T YOU WANT TO STOP ME FROM THIS SENSELESS GENOCIDE? WHY WON’T YOU FINISH ME OFF?!”

“... Are you seriously going to keep yapping on and on about how you should die, or will you help me dig?”

“YOU FUCKING…” Lappland lunged forward but she crashed to the ground beneath her.

Above them, the drizzle began to stop. More of those blessed rays of light pierced through the grey backdrop. Lush greenery had returned to their eyes, with the new splashes of brown and red.

“Nothing will ever be enough to avenge my father.” Texas struck the earth once more, but her muscles would not listen to her anymore. She leaned against her shovel and gulped as much air as she could. “I already hate myself for not killing you off, but I have no reason to.”

She chucked the shovel to the side and plucked a white chrysanthemum nearby. Inserting it into her father’s hands, she prayed one last time.

“I hope we both can move on from here, Lappland.”

Texas turned her back and began walking away.

“Texas?” Lappland yapped out her name.

“If you want to die off here, it’s your choice. If you want to hunt me down to the ends of Terra, feel free to. I’m done here.” As Texas walked away, her silhouette became engulfed by the radiance of the sun.

“Texas?!” Lappland barked.

She kept walking away. No matter how many times Lappland had called out her name, she did not stop for even a second.

“TEXAS!”

Why?

Why was she spared mercy?

Was she too weak to be a worthy adversary?

Why, why, why…

All these questions and more were enough for her to scream for her until her vocal cords were ripped out.

“TEXAS!”

Crying all by herself, she was reduced to what she started all this time.

A starving cub.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

What was the point of her fighting anymore? Why was she still alive? Was she weak? Was Texas taking pity on her?

“Texas…”She hugged her swords like pillows and begged for answers. She was spared mercy from both the wildflower and the mountain. Why? “Texas…”

As the picturesque landscape fell out of focus, she saw herself sparring with Texas over those hot afternoons and cold nights. They would lie down here, where she was, and reached out with their hands for the diamonds above.

“I can’t die… No one can kill me except you, Texas…”

Nearby, a raindrop from a red lilac dropped down to the soil beneath. Borrowed time was trickling away from hep seeping wounds, but she admired this one last sight of nature.

“No one but you, Texas…” Lappland whispered out, remembering the one mountain she failed to conquer, “My heart’s yours.”

On one final shallow breath, she wished to see one more raindrop drip from the red lilac.

And there it was.

One more raindrop.

It parted ways from the petal and froze mid-air…?

Lappland heard footsteps approaching her.

“Aren’t you a lucky one. One more minute and I would have lost you.”

Even with the world fading away from her, she noted some distinguishing features: Blue hair, a halo, two horns…?

“You’re… Not Texas…” The silhouette squatted down and smiled at her. “Who are you?”

“Mostima. Pleased to be acquainted with you.” She fireman-carried Lappland and began to trudge back to the entrance of the villa with her in her arms. “You lost a lot of blood. Great, that means you’re lighter to carry.”

Before she could ask, Lappland was consumed by the darkness and fell asleep.

===

As for what Texas did ever since she left, she could only say she went drifting.

Columbia was never the same for her. With no family, bodyguards, or friends to lean back on, she was nothing more than a straggler on the run from the mafia. Additionally, she definitely had a bounty on her head. News would spread like wildfire, especially if it pertained to the Texas family, the foreign family operating outside Siracusa, and the instruments of war that shall tip the scales of the civil war. Nothing will ever grant her peace of mind; Every meal she ate could have been her last; Every walk by the park was the prime chance to take her out; Every shopkeeper and patron had every moment to blast her back. She was simply another name to be crossed out of their lists after interrogation, torture, and information extraction.

Such politics now was beyond her.

And besides, she needed a break, and what better way than to do a little traveling? Her feet followed the rhythm of her wanderlust, and finally, without the role of captain weighing on her shoulders, she was out and about through Terra.

Instead of kicking back in her private hires, she rode the bumpy public trains, buses, and taxis. Before, she paid no attention to the general public as they were another face passing by. Now? They were the wise old elderly, the youthful young children, and the down-to-earth working adults who belonged to their families. In cafes and bars, she managed to entertain some conversations with them, and, while she hated to admit it, it had her smiling.

Instead of residing in private headquarters and secluded hideouts, she crashed in a wide array of hotels, motels, and rentals. Sometimes, mattresses were too stiff, sofas too musty, windows too frosted, water in baths too cold. Even so, it felt homely, as if her worries were leaving her body.

Home.

She would remember her father and those times she had pushed him away.

She would also remember Lappland and that sickening laughter that clawed her eardrums.

(She broke a mirror once by the thought of her. Paying for it was no problem, but still, it was an honest mistake.)

Instead of the five-star Siracusan meals by her family chef, she devoured cuisines foreign to her palette: Siesta with their bubbly drinks, Laterano with their sweets, Sargon with their exotic cuisines, and many more. She never knew she had an appetite, but some exercise was needed from time to time. The spicy tastes of Lungmen, in particular, were enough to scorch into her memory, besides her tongue.

She stopped by a noodle bar on the final day of her ‘holiday’ in Lungmen.

“-碗。加辣椒。(One bowl. Add chili.)”

“好。(Aight.)”

“HELP!” A young woman’s voice reverberated down the alleyway. Texas sprung out of the shop and saw a group of burly men crowding around a young blonde girl. Her frilly dress, adorable face, and cute outfit were more than enough for Texas to know who she was from the get-go; Her fingers patted against her satchel bag and felt the CD she bought a few hours ago.

‘Isn’t that Sora?’

A penguin with sunglasses, a white beanie, and a loose shirt popped by from another alleyway and aimed down his Desert Eagle on them.

As much as she wanted to lay low and take a peaceful exit, Texas had no choice but to get wrapped up in this.

At least now, she can put her past behind her.

For now, at least.

Chapter Text

“GET OUT OF MY WAY.”

Lappland booted Texas square on the face and pinned Doctor down. She clocked him, then grasped him by the collar.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY FATHER? TELL ME. WERE YOU THE ONE WHO ORDERED THE HIT ON MY FAMILY? WERE YOU THE ONE WHO ASSASSINATED MY FATHER? WERE YOU THE ONE WHO SLAUGHTERED MY ENTIRE FUCKING FAMILY?”

Lappland thrashed him down. Doctor’s head smacked against the concrete floor. He gritted and grunted as she tugged him back in.

“ANSWER ME.”

Texas shoulder-tackled her off him. They wrestled until she was on top of her, pinning her down by the collars. “Don’t, Lappland. Stop.”

“WHY ARE YOU SIDING WITH HIM, TEXAS?! HE’S RESPONSIBLE FOR THE SIRACUSAN CIVIL WAR! HE CONFESSED! THIS SNAKE CONFESSED! DAD DIED BECAUSE OF HIM! AND YOU’RE ON HIS SIDE?!”

“He’s an amnesiac, Lappland.”

“AND THAT EXCUSES HIM?”

“Arguable. Even if he was responsible, we don’t know to what degree. Let him explain.”

“I HEARD ENOUGH.” Lappland punched her square on her face, then pulled her by her nape. Her arms coiled around her throat like an anaconda and squeezed. Her gagging prey clawed against her forearms, fished for her fingers and tried to wiggle her fingers into the chokehold. Roaring louder, Lappland pulled upwards and back, crushing Texas’s throat tighter and tighter.

Doctor shuffled back to his feet, reloaded and cocked his Lupara. His barrel greeted Lappland straight in the eye. “Let her go!”

“PULL THE TRIGGER! DO IT! PROVE THAT WE’VE BEEN PLAYED LIKE PAWNS ALL THIS WHILE, LIKE HOW YOU SENT MY DAD TO DIE!”

“Three!”

“DO IT! I’VE WAITING FOR THIS EVER SINCE TEXAS HAD SPARED MY LIFE THAT MORNING! END ME RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!”

Texas was about to rip out her tongue for that proclamation. Her legs braced and lifted her to a semi-standing position against this airtight choke.

"Two!"

“YOU WERE NEVER ABANDONED, OR SHUNNED, OR TREATED LIKE FUCKING SHIT, DOCTOR! YOU’LL NEVER KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE FOR US. YOU NEVER CARED! ALL THOSE SPEECHES ABOUT OUR FUTURE TOGETHER? LIES!”

Doctor was blanking out.

His finger was already pulling the trigger. Not enough to fire and blast her to kingdom come, but his inner demons were chanting louder.

This gnawing impulse.

“Don’t you even dare say I have never cared for any of you.” He growled and stopped himself from snatching the trigger. “One.”

“YOU! IT WAS YOU WHO PROMISED ME SALVATION! YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE! MY PUPPETEER WHO PLAYED MY STRINGS AND WEAVED ME INTO OPERATIONS! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER; I WAS DOOMED FROM THE START!”

Doctor began to hyperventilate. His barrel shivered. He could not open fire. He could not have. What was he doing?

“DO IT! END ME!” Lappland laughed out loud. “OR SO HELP ME, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN MYSELF–”

Texas flipped forward. Lappland’s arms were caught in an awkward position where they were strained upwards. Seizing the opportunity, Texas clawed out a finger from her hands and snapped it out of her knuckles. That was enough to free her from the choke, but what came after was a pained howl. She kneed down on her shoulder and aligned a crystallizing blade to her throat. A sharp glint and a crystallized blade struck against Doctor’s Lupara. It skidded across the floor and Doctor crashed to his knees.

“You won’t kill me.”

Texas cocked back her sights at Lappland.

“You had your chance that morning, but you spared me instead. After all these years, I still can’t figure out why.” Lappland curled her fingers and plunged into the blade. Red streaks poured down and yet she drew it closer to her neck. “Why?! What must I do to know why?”

“... I told you, didn’t I? Nothing will ever come out from killing you.”

“That excuse again?” She grumbled, her eyes back to being a still blizzard. The crystallized blade grazed against her throat. More blood poured down by the sides of her neck, but it waited for the final plunge. “Why won’t you let me see Dad again?”

How would anyone go about telling a broken person the wonders of life? For Texas, where she had crawled out of that miserable hole herself, she knew shallow lipservice will never be enough. What else was there for her?

“... Why wouldn’t you end it for yourself then?”

The crystallized blade buzzed by her throat. Lappland’s fingers shivered, but not out of fear. Texas reciprocated, gripping the hilt of her sword tighter.

Lappland clicked her lips and plucked her fingers off the blade.

“... Texas, let her go.” Doctor commanded her in a gruff voice.

“Doctor.”

“Trust me.”

Whatever lingering hesitation was within her disintegrated with her blade. She lifted herself off Lappland and backed off. Doctor sat down before Lappland, removed the crimson ring and offered it to her. That was enough to extinguish any fantasies Lappland had entertained on how to rip it off him.

“Take it. It’s yours.”

“What about your invocation for Foresight of Priestess?” Texas asked.

“It acts the same as Eyes of Priestess. No need for catalysts; All I need is to channel it. Besides,” Doctor extended his hand out for Lappland, insisting on it. “This has been her rightful birthright from the start.”

“Nothing will ever absolve you from your sins. Nothing.” Lappland snatched him by the wrist, almost crushing it. “All those who were played by your strings, the stench of their blood shall haunt you even in your deepest dreams. I’ll have you beg for forgiveness before Dad.”

"I'll do whatever it'll take to right my wrongs, Lappland. I promise you that—”

Lappland balled a fist, winded it and was about to crack his skull open. She cared not for Texas slaughtering her for this act. If anything, to pummel Doctor to a pulp might give Texas the instinct to kill her.

What was the point of fighting fate anymore? That question alone tied her down from lashing out.

Texas’s father guiding her to a change in heart.

Texas sparing her mercy.

Mostima saving her from bleeding out.

And now? For Doctor, the very man who snuffed out her father, to give her what was hers all this while…

This had to be some sick joke; All those heroic speeches about garnering more strength for the sake of vanquishing all evil had to be a joke; All those proclamations and dreams she harped on, grinding it to Texas’s ear, had to be a joke. Was her life a joke that had run on for far too long?

What was there to believe in anymore?

Underneath the twinkling diamonds in the twilight, against the glittering radiance from the Black Market, beamed out the red crimson ring. Reflecting against the red jewel was a bruised and bloodied woman. How the mere sight of herself ruined the perfect jewel, for she was broken and, worse, beyond repair. To think that this broken woman was a mere pup who used to roughhouse and roar with her foster brothers…

She missed Suomi’s hands, aged and wrinkled, brushing through her hair and patting her. To remember him telling her how proud he was of her…

To think she will never hear him say how much he loved her ever again…

“... How did you get it?”

“It was in Schiavo’s safe. I cracked the code and there it was.”

“How did you manage to get the code?”

“The safe’s passcode was the date when I met your foster father for the last time.” Doctor bowed his head. “I know you will never forgive me, but I truly am sorry.”

She snatched the ring from him and inspected it. Every scratch, every tiny nick along the shank, even the fading enamel paint was authentic.

“Dad…” She whimpered.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Lappland—”

“Don’t.” Lappland cut him off. Her voice softened as she withdrew away from him. “Don’t you dare patronize me.”

She hugged her legs close, buried her face into her arms and curled into a ball. One deep breath, and she shivered. Another one, and her nails dug into her knees. Sharp shallow breaths escaped her. Not tonight, she begged herself, not tonight. If it was any other night, she would have. Not tonight, not in front of Doctor and Texas. Not now. Never. She had sworn to it, and yet a memory of the house she burnt down to ashes was melting the chains coiled around her heart.

Texas squatted down next to the two of them and sighed. Cracking open a fresh pack of Pocky, she offered both of them one.

“Where did you get that?” Doctor asked.

“Black Market.”

Doctor shrugged his shoulders and took one stick.

Lappland peeped through her fingers and saw the offer now directed at her. “Why…?”

“Take it.”

“Fuck off, Texas. Not now.”

“Take.”

To see them reconcile for once was news to Doctor. Lappland always haunted Texas down the hallways back in Rhodes Islands. Now? A new light shined upon them.

“For now, please let me handle her, Doctor.”

Without another word, he scooched himself away and gave them space whilst observing from the sideline.

“Take a stick and stop moping around already.”

“... What do you want, Texas?”

“I want you to stop moping around. We still have a job to do.”

“You haven’t answered me, Texas.” Lappland rose from her arms and faced her. “Why was I spared that morning?”

“No point—”

Lappland pounced upon her. Her fingers dug into her collar and rose to her knees. Texas did not flinch at all, let alone retaliate. “Say that one more time and I’ll rip your throat out.”

Texas sighed, “What else do you want me to say?"

"Tell me! Why wouldn't you kill me? Why do you keep pitying me all this while? Am I too weak?! Do you not hate me for what I did?!"

“Why would I not hate you? You harass my colleagues and I to no end. Your monologues with power and strength infuriate me. How could I forget the fact that you slaughtered my entire family.…”

"Lappland…" Doctor popped in, "She killed your family, Texas?"

It was not like her to have a loose tongue, but no point hiding secrets between them. She sighed at herself, "I believe you shall not divulge this personal matter with anyone else, Doctor?"

“If anything, my dark secret of collapsing an entire society for perverse political interests is much worse. You’re fine.”

"Thank you. As I was saying," She redirected herself to Lappland, "You are not my enemy, Lappland. No point in killing you back then if you weren't my target."

"I literally slaughtered through every single person you held dear—"

Texas pointed at her with a Pocky stick. "Reiterate me that one more time. Try me."

Their glares scorched each other, but Lappland broke it off by picking up that Pocky stick and taking a bite. "I still don't understand. Look at me. I torched down every single lead in hopes of hunting down the traitor. Why aren't you…?"

Texas had her personal reasons. She scurried to almost every corner of Terra, trying to run away from the many what-ifs leaking through the cracks. Lucky for her, she found Penguin Logistics which busied her with a couple of hectic years. As to why she did not tread down the path Lappland took, she knew why clearly; The pendant in her bedroom waited for her return. “Why did I not finish you off? I chose a different pathway, Lappland.”

“How is that…? We are the same, aren’t we? We are but lone wolves, Texas. Nothing more, nothing less. The lowest of the low; We’re worse than filth itself.”

“I was made a lone wolf by your hands, mind you.”

“I know, and I will never apologize for it.”

On any other day, that comment was enough to be answered with a crystallized blade in her throat. Tonight, however, she conceded to that. “That’s why I didn’t finish you off. Like me, you were another victim to Siracusa and its mafioso.”

“Does that really excuse me? I hunted you down to squeeze some answers out of you.”

“I would have done the same. The thrill of the hunt… It’s in our blood. If anything, I can only blame fate for being born as a Lupo.”

“Can’t complain; I wouldn’t have it any other way though.” Lappland smirked at it. “... That’s why? You took pity on me because you saw yourself in me? Another instrument of war trained to kill?”

“Two sides of the same coin.”

“Heh. And here I thought you’d have an answer that shall split the earths and let the angels fly down to these desecrated lands…” Lappland laughed but extended an open palm for another Pocky stick. Texas returned the smirk and passed her another. “If only you had told me earlier.”

“The opportunity never presented itself. Besides, the past should stay in the past.”

“... Do you still remember what I said to you about us on that damned morning?”

“I only remembered ‘reckless’.”

“Funny. It’s ‘ambitious’ for me.”

“Ambitious, reckless and all the more suicidal…”

“... For our dreams.”

They smiled at themselves. After running away all these years, they found themselves sitting in the memory of that meadow one more time. By opposite ends were the people they were fighting for. For Texas, her dear parents nodded at her before the compound villa. For Lappland, Suomi and her foster brothers cheered her on by the foot of the mountain.

Even if the skies above were black, they knew their loved ones were still with them, smiling; The stars twinkled ever so brightly.

Texas stood back up and brushed off the dust from her shorts. She offered a hand to Lappland. “I still wish you get off my back and let me work in peace. My colleagues in Penguin Logistics would appreciate a lot less commotion from you.”

Lappland hollered out at the blank expression from her partner. “Sorry but I’ll chase you to the ends of Terra, because I love you, Texas!”

“Unbelievable.”

“I always love it when you ignore me, Texas.”

“I’d love it if you leave me alone.”

Lappland gripped onto Texas’s hands. Texas pulled her up to her feet.

She stood back up and felt the bruises and aches hammering back down. Shaking it off, she beamed her fangful smile and laughed out for the entire slums to hear. Donning on Suomi’s crimson ring, she raised her hand high up to the skies above. A forgotten sight to behold, like a piece of sunken treasure washed up ashore after all these years.

Texas herself squared her shoulders before Doctor and stared him down. “Should you speak of our past to anyone…”

Doctor shook his head. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“Good.” Texas fished out the car keys and began to walk back to the car.

“... I might be pushing my luck, but I’m interested to learn the backstories between you two.” That request painted a target on him. He shrunk beneath the glares of the two Lupos. “I promise not to record it down in the archive files. If I breach this sacred trust between us, I’ll have my head on a platinum platter.”

Texas and Lappland shared a glance, before they took their seats in the car.

“Guess not.”

With that, he took his seat at the back. He rubbed his eyes and buckled his seatbelt.

“Doctor,” Lappland spoke out, looking at him in the rear-view mirror, “Don’t get your hopes up; You still have to answer to me about sending my dad to his death.”

“I figured as much.”

“Only then will Texas and I decide if we are in the mood to share. It’s a long trip back to Lin Gray’s, and we’ll gauge by then if you’ll be our confidante.”

Texas rolled her eyes as she popped another Pocky stick into her mouth and revved the engine up. “Before that, what’s the plan now, Doctor?”

“Now?” Doctor straightened his posture and smiled. “We prepare for war.”

===

Returning back to Lin Gray’s in their current state was more than enough to surprise those waiting. They did not expect one hell of a fight, but the survivors’ bodies were tainted with the colors of war: Black-and-blues patches, crusty coats of red, smoky ashes of gray and many more. Even more curious were the small changes that spoke volumes: Doctor’s missing pinky, Lappland’s crimson ring, Texas’s unkempt hair etc. A warm welcome to them, nonetheless. Another day in the office, Doctor assured the cast before groaning out loud.

After being tended by Silence and her medical drone, alongside midnight supper cooked from Lin Gray and Yu Xia, their shoulders loosened up and took a well-deserved break. The night finally was slowing down. They needed it. The Penguin Logistics clinked their glasses to the night after one hell of a day. Of course, the trio excused themselves out of that homely picture. Lappland sat by the curb outside the candy shop and was mesmerized by the moon above them, waiting for it to crash upon her. With her thumb rubbing against the base of the shank of the crimson ring, she sat by there and thought of what she would do to wolf down some Siracusan pasta.

As for Texas, she was ponderning by herself by the second floor balcony, slumping against the railings. Was tonight’s operation a success? Yes. Was it beyond the acceptable range of risks? Yes. Was it entirely avoidable? Yes, but arguably speaking. Was she fighting at her best, or was she slacking off? Calculating, she evaluated some lines and courses of action.

“You alright?” Doctor popped up behind her and offered her some Pepero.

“Yea… No Pepero tonight. I brushed my teeth.”

“More for me then.” The crunching filled in the silence.

“How’s your wound?”

“Silence electro-cauterized it. No more running the risks of infections from dead or infected tissue around the area, and she’s sent out a request for the cybernetic augmentation team to prepare some prototypes for my lack of a pinky.”

“Good to hear.”

Doctor saw restlessness written across her face. “You should head to bed early tonight. We had a long day today and tomorrow will be much worse.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Lappland’s shakened up by our whole endeavor. I am, too. And I figured you need some company.”

“Why not accompany Lappland then?”

“I tried but she did not respond to my invitation for company. She’s…” The mere thought of what he had done to Suomi and Lappland subsequently was enough of a hint for him. “It’s better if I was someone else.”

“Fair enough.”

Doctor ran through his head on how to comfort Texas but he was drawing blanks. Where would he even begin? She single-handedly (or, for this instance, double-handedly) drove through hell on the highway. She risked her own life, by Doctor’s command, for tonight’s game. She even exposed one of her dark secrets and that was enough for her to be wary of him

Under the moonlight, she glowed. Her eyes were the faint shimmers of stars reflecting from the ocean. Her hair glistened as it swayed to the breeze. Beyond her role as a vanguard and his dedicated assistant, wearing a plain white T-shirt and shorts, she was a woman to him. A beautiful one, too. The sight of her was enough for him to wish for forever here.

Doctor patted her on the head and brushed his thumb against her soft fluffy ears.

Texas caught him by the wrist and glared. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I… It’s something I usually do to comfort someone back in Rhodes Island. Rosmontis, Amiya, Suzuran, Myrtle… You know.”

Texas let his wrist go. “Don’t do that again; It’s an intimate act of love in Siracusa.”

“I surprisingly did not know that. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

They both gazed back at the view before them. It was nothing much. What else was there to look at in the slums? Some squatter houses here, some old clumped-up bungalows there… The horizon was outlined by blackened homes with a faint moonlight glow. It was a change of pace from tonight’s firefight and they appreciated it.

“... Your ears are fluffy, by the way. It’s nice.” Doctor whispered.

Texas blushed before cocking her sights to him.

“I mean… I…” Doctor hummed before giving out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, but I needed to get it out of my chest.”

“Unbelievable. I almost assumed that you lost your sanity.” Texas sighed and began walking back inside. She slid the patio doors to the side. “Good night, Doctor.”

“Sleep well now, Texas.”

Texas went back inside—

“Texas, wait.”

Her ears pricked up.

“I… You looked beautiful tonight.”

Texas cocked back her head and stared holes into him. “What…”

Their hearts banged against their chests.

For Texas, it was a bombshell of a compliment. What was there to love about her? Sure, her work ethics, her sense of reliability and independence, but her looks? She wished to write it off as Doctor being a blubbering zero-sanity mess, but that sturdy look persuaded her otherwise. She scrutinized for anything that would give him away: A nervous twitch, an anxious fidget, even a bead of sweat…

For Doctor, it was one bold step. He could never take it back or even write it off as a casual friend-to-friend compliment. Was he a fool to listen to Stefano’s advice back in the casino? Probably, sure. However, he would be more of a fool to not try at all.

“I wanted to ask if, after all this, you want to have dinner with me before we head back?” Doctor shot.

“Really? With the entirety of Penguin Logistics and Lappland?”

“I’ve discussed with Lin Gray and Yu Xia, and they will entertain them. It’ll be just the two of us.”

“And have you considered that they will pester me to no end once they catch wind of this?” Texas crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I’d rather work in peace than for them to meddle in my personal affairs.”

“I mean, isn’t that everyday with everyone?” Doctor was amused by it.

That, by itself, had Texas’s ears twitched with annoyance.

“Sorry.” Doctor cleared his throat, “Still, I know a fancy Siracusan-themed restaurant in Lungmen. It’s sought after by many of the locals and I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“Casanova’s, isn’t it?”

“... How did you know?”

“Roaming around after my fallout with Lappland, and venturing around with Penguin Logistics.”

“I should have figured that out.”

“No fault on you… Doctor, I’m sorry but I don’t need this right now. I’m…” She shrugged her shoulders and looked away from him.

“No pressure, Texas. It’s just…” He rubbed his nape. “You’ve been tense and I…”

Texas listened in.

“... I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I want to show how much I care about you, so I thought it’d be nice to have dinner with you.”

“... You’re just being nice, Doctor.”

“No, I’m not. I’m doing this only for you.”

Texas blushed hard and hung her head.

No replies came out.

She gave it thought.

His heart was in his throat.

Her eyes wavered for the moment, but she closed her eyes and shook her head. “... Please excuse me. I’ll head off for the night.”

“Ah. Alright. Feel free. Good night.”

With that, she marched off to her room.

Doctor remained by the balcony and lingered for a while more. His eyes were mesmerized by the moon above and he thought of where he belonged. Even with all the stars around it, he wondered why the moon was lonesome.

“No luck, Doctor?” Mostima popped by next to him.

“No luck. Wait—” He jumped away from her. “When did you get here?”

“Time dilation.”

“You…” He pieced up the puzzle pieces. “I’m a dead man.”

Mostima chuckled. “I won’t expose you to the others. However, allow me to help you in your romantic endeavors.”

Her smile was more than enough for him to be wary of her. “Why?”

“I want to help you both. It’d be a nice change for Texas to let someone into her heart, and it’d be nice for you to take a breather every now and then.” With that, Mostima rested her head against her hands which was supported by the railings and smiled with a hint of poison. “Tell me, Doctor…"

Before him was a fallen Sankta who had her black halo as prominent as her horns. He could only hope she was on her side.

"... How you will capture her heart."

Chapter Text

“Saviour.” A soft nudge tapped him out of his slumber.

Lulling him out of his slumber was her angelic radiance. Morning streaks of light from the outside sunrise paled to the red-headed Sankta hovering over him. Even so, he stretched his limbs and groaned before tossing to the other side. His body was a boulder that sunk deeper into his bed. Everything hurt; His bones creaked; His muscles flared out; His mind sunk. Moments of respite were rare and to have his ‘guardian angel’ robbing him of that was ironic enough. “... Few more minutes, Exusiai.”

“C’mon, Saviour. Fresh new day, fresh new morning. Let’s get going.”

Complying whilst whining, he offered his arm to Exusiai. She tugged him out of his blanket to the bedside. Behind him was his sanctuary calling him to fall back in again, but this damned angel would not let go. He sat there, head hung and limbs limp. He groaned out and glared at her, as much as she giggled back.

“Breakfast’s ready and everyone’s waiting downstairs.”

“... What time is it?” Doctor grunted out.

“Quarter past seven.”

Doctor crashed back to his bed and tugged back the blankets over him.

“C’mon, Saviour!” Like kneading bread dough, she shook him to stay awake. “Rise and shine! Let’s go!”

“Few more minutes, Exusiai! Please!”

“C’mon! We oughta g-”

“Doctor.” Texas called out.

He sprung out of his bed and saw her by the doorframe. In her hands were two cups of coffee. She sipped on one and offered the other. “Let’s go.”

He accepted it and sipped.

“Next time you wish to wake him up, Exu,” Texas shifted her attention to her, “Brew him coffee. He’ll take too long to kickstart otherwise.”

“Got it, Tex’.”

Her ears twitched hearing that nickname again, but she brushed it off and headed downstairs.

Doctor sipped and let out a sigh of relief. Not too bitter, not too sweet, enough for a nice blend between the two. Prickling him awake by the tongue and yet soothing his sweet tooth, this coffee brew was perfect. Exactly how he loved it, and Texas always hit the spot for him.

‘Wait, no.’ Doctor rattled his mind ‘Texas… She doesn’t hit…’

He was still a mess from last night’s confession. His shoulders slumped.

“Are you alright, Saviour?” Exusiai poked at the pensive Doctor who was eyeing down his coffee. “What’s on your mind?”

Almost admitting who was in his mind, he clamped his lips tight. His heart, however, pounded, answering on his behalf. Such a pestering heart, he sighed, but nothing good would come out from lying to himself. It proclaimed to Exusiai about how he wished it was Texas instead who woke him up. To cuddle with her underneath this blanket of a starry twilight, to wake up and run through his fingers through her ruffled morning hair, to kiss her by the forehead and fall deeper into her amber eyes…

He snapped out of his delusions. “Nothing… Just need a bit more time for the coffee to kick in.”

“Seeing you jump out of bed when Texas called you… I almost thought you have a crush on her.”

“What?! No! No, I mean… Just… I don’t.” Shying himself from the conversation, he sipped a long one.

An ellipsis dotted above Exusiai’s head, before a nice flashing exclamation mark pinged out. He could tell; Her halo beamed down upon him, making him squint to such a flash. She plopped down next to him and bumped him shoulder to shoulder. “C’mon, Saviour. No need to act so shy about it. You can’t lie to a Sankta anyways; We are emotionally attuned to other’s emotions, feelings and inner thoughts. You can’t hide your secrets from me.”

“Breach of privacy, if anything.” Doctor coughed out whilst retracting away from the nosy angel, “Besides, I know Sanktas can only read other Sanktas. Nice try, but I would know how your race works.”

“Tsk.” Exusiai pouted, “Why not be honest with me? I know you have a crush on Texas.”

“Nice try again, with the reverse psychology attempt. You won’t hear it from me or Mostima.”

“Tsk.” Exusiai’s pout deepened. Doctor, now triumphant, lifted himself off the bed and splashed some water onto his face in the restroom. He headed to the doorframe and glanced over his shoulder.

“Exusiai, let’s go get breakfast.”

“I won’t hear it from you or Mostima, huh?” A cheeky smile popped from her, “Nice to know my girlfriend’s your confidant.”

One day, he will staple his lips together. Maybe today was the day.

As much as he wished to, he could not ignore this. If he does not nip the problem in the bud, this chatterbox of an angel will open fire downstairs on everyone. Rattling on and on about this forbidden romance will absolutely shred through Penguin Logistics, especially for Texas. Taking one deep breath, he yawned out loud down the stairs, “Mostima!”

“Doc’.” Mostima popped her head around the staircase from below. “What do you need?”

“Come up for a bit. Exusiai has some questions.”

By his beckon, she climbed the stairs and entered his bedroom. “What’s this about, Doctor?”

He kept watch outside for a few seconds before shutting and locking the door. By his bedside was Exusiai whose halo and wings flaring out brighter than the Sun. By his desk was Mostima whose smile became more and more smug. He broke out a sweat; One wrong card played, and Texas shall have his head on the finest silverware in Terra.

"Exusiai,” He coughed out, “While I have no contracts right now, Mostima shall serve as my rightful guarantor that you shall comply with this non-disclosure agreement (NDA)."

"So secretive." Exusiai's smile widened, "So you do have a crush on Tex-"

"PIPE IT DOWN." Doctor exclaimed out, which Mostima chuckled by the side, "Breach this NDA and I’ll see to it that you’ll have no Apple Pies for the year."

"... You're joking, right?"

"No. I'm not."

"C'mon, Saviour." A nervous giggle left her, "You're… You're just kidding with that."

"I’m not. Try me."

Exusiai slumped, her spirit leaving her body, "Saviour, with all due respect, what the fuck."

"All you need to do is to honour our NDA.” His wicked smile shrunk her even more, “Nothing more."

"... When did you become so fierce?"

"I believe he picked this up ever since he spent more time with Texas.” Mostima approached and patted her head. “Don't you think so, Doc'?"

He blushed before casting his gaze away.

"Bullseye."

"Wait, so it's true?"

Mostima nodded at Exusiai. "He confessed to her last night."

"SAVIOUR!" Upon Doctor shushing her, she giggled before toning it back down. “Did she say yes? Tell me she did.”

“Nope. Not even close.” Was confessing to Texas the worst mistake of his life? Not that it came close to him instigating the entire civil war in Siracusa, but it was close. “If only…”

“Why did you even like her, to begin with, Saviour?”

“Uhh…” and “Well…” stuttered out of his mouth. Whatever reason he stringed up was not enough to explain his case. Even if he did manage to string up something, the morning might pass to how much he would gush over his crush. Mostima chuckled, amused by the tiny fidgets on him.

“Exusiai, you can’t just shoot straight at him, as much as you’re a markswoman. Sensitive matters must be handled with tact.” Mostima took her seat next to her and hung her arm around her shoulders, her hand dangling close to her chest. Exusiai tensed up as her fingers grazed against her chest. “However, Doctor, I’m interested. Why do you like Texas, exactly? To me, and on behalf of my dear girlfriend, Texas isn’t exactly anyone’s first pick.”

Doctor recoiled back, “What do you mean by that? She’s great.”

She rolled her hand at him, gesturing him to continue on.

“It’s not like I’ll spill my heart out right now.”

“Why not?” Mostima whispered into his ear.

“WHAT THE…” Doctor jumped away from her, crashing to the desk behind him. Piecing up that she used her Arts to pause time and waltz to his side for this, “Unbelievable. Why…?”

Mostima chuckled before returning to Exusiai. Scooching behind her lover, she embraced her, arms around Exusiai’s soft belly, fingers stroking against her sides. Kissing her nape, she bidded her time stroking Exusiai, relishing in her soft pants.

“Mostima…” The red-headed Sankta whimpered.

“Love makes one feel alive, Doctor. Don’t you agree?” Mostima tugged Exusiai in, letting her lie down on top. Behind the angel was a devil smiling, adoring how Exusiai was inching closer to kiss her by the cheek. To no avail, however.

“Don’t you want this too? You and Texas…”

One hand slipped into Exusiai’s panties.

She moaned out. Completely in Mostima’s mercy, she shivered with eyes begging to be let go.

Doctor, now a tomato, flicked his sights away.

“... Cuddled together…”

Her voice, sultry and soothing, stroked against her helpless lover’s ear. Loud enough to lul Doctor back to this lovely sight, but soft enough to melt Exusiai.

“Mostima…” Exusiai whimpered. To be displayed as nothing more as her toy was nothing short of embarrassing, but to fight against this merciless whim…

“... Don’t you want this? Hmm?” Mostima’s turquoise eyes peeked over Exusiai’s shoulders, prying into Doctor for an answer.

He cleared his throat, fighting back some power in the conversation. “Look, it’s only natural that I want to… You know. But if anything, I want to get to know Texas more. I cannot jump into the idea of… For a lack of a better word, sleeping with her. Not now. Not yet, anyway. I don’t want to rush into it.”

Mostima slipped her hand out of Exusiai’s panties. With that, her lover caught her breath.

“Why her, then? Many of our colleagues, I believe, are a lot more alluring in their appearances. Additionally, they’re more fun to be with.”

“Because she understands me and I understand her.” Doctor blurted without missing a beat, “Initially, I admire her stringent work ethics and straightforward tactless nature, which lure me into her more. Time went on and I learnt more and more of her, bit by bit. Her aloofness, her earnest character, her hardy demeanour…”

He could not help himself but smile, reminiscing in the past back in his office.

“She’s a mystery that I can’t take my eyes off; The more I learn about her, the more there is to learn. I can’t take my eyes away from her… I want to figure out what makes her happy. Her smile…”

A soft chuckle leaked out.

“... I want her to smile more. I like it when she’s happy. It really makes my day, you know?”

Both Sanktas gazed at each other before nodding to that notion. Only now, Doctor realised what he muttered out. He coughed out, flustered for being such a romantic. “Hopefully that suffices?”

“Very.” Mostima nodded.

Gentle knocks on the door imploded Doctor’s heart. In haste, he answered it. Bison, in a simple white singlet and shorts, waved at them. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but food’s getting cold. So…”

“Ah.”Doctor cleared his throat. “Right. Exusiai, Mostima, please keep your promise on your ends—”

“About that, Doctor…” Bison’s eyes shied away, “Everyone heard.”

Doctor was about to fling himself over the balcony.

“How?” Mostima tilted her head.

“Walls have ears, especially for Lin Gray’s candy shop. It’s quite thin.”

“Does Texas…?” Doctor croaked.

Bison winced at the thought of telling him the truth, but he nodded.

‘If only the second floor was much higher’, Doctor reasoned himself out of flinging his lifeless body off the balcony. ‘Maybe a running start and landing head-first would help?’

Doctor crashed to his knees, his very soul exiting his body. Mostima sauntered to his side, leaned forward with her hands still tucked behind her, and checked for any life left in his eyes. “Out cold.”

“Does that mean we can call off the NDA---”

“Read the room, love.” Mostima coiled her arms around Exusiai’s neck before lugging her out of the room. “Take your time, Doctor. I’ll buy you time.”

Bison bowed before Doctor, before heading back down.

No matter how much he repented and pleaded for someone, anyone, to take him out of his misery, nothing was beckoned forth. Only one question lingered in his mind, in his anguished soul.

“Why?”
===
“DID YOU HEAR THAT, TEXAS?!” Even with last night’s wounds scorching into her, she roared out laughing. “DOCTOR LOVES YOU!”

Banging her head softly against her forearms on the table, she hoped to wake up from this nightmare. Chances of that fleeted with Lappland’s laughter echoing deep into her eardrums. How many crystallised blades could she summon to silence the thorn in her side? Apparently, not enough.

“HE EVEN CONFESSED TO YOU LAST NIGHT!” Lappland was above the puffy white clouds amongst this marigold sunrise. “MY DEAR TEXAS! FALLING IN LOVE!”

Texas moaned out. Why did that big-mouthed blubbering idiot spill everything out? What’s stopping her from shish-kebabing both Doctor and Lappland right now? Why must fate be so cruel? Why, why, why…? She pleaded for Exusiai to lodge a bullet in her head to cure this pounding headache right now. Not even a day had passed since the confession, and out of anyone he dared spill it to, he confided with the Sankta that chitchat much more than her Vector SMG. Not that it mattered now; Everyone heard it.

“I LIKE IT WHEN SHE’S HAPPY, HE SAYS! I WANT HER TO SMILE MORE!” Tableware clinked and quaked as she banged against the table, hollering out of control. “I CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF HER—”

Texas raised her hands and was about to hail death upon Lappland. “Sword Ra—”

“Good morning, y’all!” Exusiai chirped as both of them returned from the confrontation upstairs. “Lively and lovely, I see. Glory to the Penguin Empire!”

Texas kicked her chair back and stormed towards them. One question was asked. In a tempered growl, as if her politeness was a facade, this question was enough for the Sanktas to flinch. “Where’s Doctor?”

“Still upstairs. He’s absolutely shell-shocked from finding out you all were eavesdropping.”

Lappland’s laughter was enough motivation for Texas to shove them away. Mostima caught her by the shoulders.

“Don’t interfere.” Texas snarled at Mostima.

“Don’t you think this is a golden opportunity to let your guard down?”

Texas clutched against the wooden railings until her nails began to sink into it. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“Understand this, Texas: Generally speaking, I have no interest in interfering with the affairs of my colleagues. I respect your privacy. If anything, I could hardly maintain my relationship with Exusiai here. However, don’t you think it’s time you fulfil that promise we shared about letting your past go and living your life a little bit?”

“Allow me to reiterate the fact that I do not need this right now.”

“Allow me to refute by saying that you do.”

“On what grounds?”

“Listen.” Mostima closed in until she was earshot. She whispered, “Don’t you think you were still as guarded as you were when you first entered Penguin Logistics?”

Texas stabbed her glare into her. “And why is that any of your business?”

“Think of it this way: After your tour with Penguin Logistics, you loosened up a bit. By then, you managed to let go of your past a bit. Why not take a chance with Doctor and live your life a bit more?”

“You did not answer my question.”

Seeing her shoulder loosening for a bit was enough for Mostima to nod. “Give it some thought, Texas.”

Mostima began to walk away.

“Why?” With Texas’s back still facing her, she spoke, “Why are you this concerned with my affair?”

“Who knows? Take it as my way of thanking you for watching my girlfriend’s back.”

As Texas scoffed and marched upstairs, Mostima and Exusiai took their seats and smiled at the prying gazes from everyone else by the table. Bison followed suit behind them, sighing out before gulping down his orange juice. No one admitted it, but all were straining their ears to eavesdrop. Strange enough, not a single word was heard; If anything, Texas and Doctor most likely excused themselves to another room.

“I believe this discourse of action should have been discussed with us beforehand, Mostima.” Lin Gray spoke. Everyone else fell silent and listened in. (Of course, Lappland was clamping down on her mouth, trying not to burst out laughing.)

“No other time than to strike the iron when it’s hot. Chances like this come once in a blue moon, especially back in Rhodes Island.” Mostima leaned back and, maintaining her coy smile, sipped on her lemon tea.

“I do not know the inner relationships between your esteemed company, but have you considered such actions to be too hasty? Wouldn’t you say this is nothing more than jeopardising their chances?”

“Not necessarily; I am a mere catalyst to what was long overdue.”

“Hmmph.” Lin Gray helped himself with another spoon of porridge.

“Wow…” Sora was lost in thought, stars dazzling in her twinkling amber irises, “Doctor and Texas falling in love... A dashing prince rescuing the damsel who longs to be saved from her troubling past...”

Lappland banged both her head and her fist against the tabletop, snickering to it.

“I doubt this will follow the same plot as your Fujoshi storylines, Sora.” Bison spoke.

“Doesn’t it make your heart race?” Sora exclaimed, “We have absolutely zero romantic encounters in Rhodes Island! No lovey-dovey romance between any of the guys and girl operators. This is amazing!”

“I don’t know if having relationships is allowed in the first place.”

“Even better! A forbidden romance! Deep in the shady seams of the valiant Rhodes Island, with Doctor as the prestigious commander who swore to defend the dreams of everyone on Terra. Alas!” Sora was swooned by such scandalous thoughts. Clasping her hands into prayer, her fantasies kept running. “Emboldened by the flames of love itself, his eyes laid upon Texas. Will he risk losing it all to capture her maiden heart?”

Unbecoming of an idol, she panted and shuddered to fantasies corrupting her. Bison shuddered to the revelation of such unhinged flashes of thirst. Lappland shuddered to not break out laughing. Exusiai shuddered, cringing at what she was hearing.

“Doctor ‘kabedoning’ Texas and raising her head… Texas fighting back and looking the other way, only for his hand to grace her cheek and cock her back to him… Doctor slowly… Gently… Inching ever so closer to her soft, silky lips…”

Sora shrieked.

One heavy thud stomped against the wooden ceiling above, as if both Texas and Doctor heard her.

She shrunk back to her seat.

“Girl, you oughta take it a notch back and pipe it down.” Emperor invaded the conversation, “Nothing good comes out from rumours running around.”

“Sorry.” She squeaked out.

“As for you, my main man.” Emperor called out Bison, “Who cares about rules? Don’t give a damn, roll out a plan.”

“Me? I got…” Bison dismissed it. “I got no one special to care about.”

“Shucks, Bison kiddo.” Croissant muttered out. “Don’t go breakin’ out a lassie’s heart, ya hear?”

“I…” They both blushed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I…”

The space between them widened miles apart, and its presence began to suffocate the both of them.

Lappland could not take it anymore. Roaring to laughter until she fell off her chair, she howled out, “TEXAS? A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS? DOCTOR? THE DASHING PRINCE?”

Tears cascaded down. It hurts to laugh so much.

“I can’t believe this is how our morning starts.” Bison moaned out before eating his egg.

“Don’t worry about it.” Exusiai punched him in the arm. “It’ll all play out by itself.”

Floorboards above creaked. Stomping until it reached the staircase, the two main stars of the morning trudged down and ambled back to the dining table. Waiting for a single word from either Doctor or Texas, everyone stared. Both of them took their seats, chowed down into their breakfast and ignored these vultures.

“Please pass me the salt, Texas.” Doctor asked. Upon receiving it, “Thank you very much.”

“Welcome, Doctor.”

Doctor being left alive, let alone unscathed, was a miracle in itself. Texas dispelling any bit of anger in her system and regaining her composure was another. Bamboozled, the Penguin Logistics cast glanced at each other.

“WELL, DOCTOR?!” Lappland dispelled the silence.

“Mm?”

“CARE TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF ABOUT WHAT’S GOING ON BETWEEN YOU AND DEAR TEXAS?”

“Right. About that. Having this crush is strictly unprofessional and injects unnecessary stress to Texas’s personal life. To maintain the friendship between us, I’ve decided to move on.” Like some public service announcement, Doctor pitched, “Understand that it’s no one’s fault and it has been a long time coming.”

Whilst everyone was buying into it, Mostima, sitting next to Doctor, peeked under the table. She chuckled to herself and found it cute that Texas’s tail was wrapping around his leg. ‘What a white lie,’ she thought to herself.

Texas glanced at her. Mostima nodded at her and said nothing else. That was enough for Texas to continue with her breakfast.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I shouldn’t have prodded into your relationship.” Exusiai said.

“It’s fine.” Doctor laughed out loud.

Much to their disappointment, the entire cast groaned at it. They badgered him after breakfast, hoping it was one whole lie. Of course it was, but Doctor only smiled and waved at them. Texas, on the other hand, returned back to her bedroom and caught herself a break.

A knock on the door caught her attention. She saw Mostima standing by herself.

“Nice performance.” Mostima praised her. “To trick everyone into thinking nothing will happen between you two now.”

Texas sighed before popping a Pepero into her mouth. She offered one to her.

“In a good mood, I see. What happened between you and Doctor?”

“None of your business.”

Mostima chuckled before accepting the offer. “At least you listened to me. Tell me when you got the chance, alright? I’m interested.”

As Mostima headed back to the hallway to prepare herself for the day that was to come, Texas watched as the sun rose up higher to the sky.

Chapter Text

White was her pale hospital bed, and finding comfort was almost impossible, no matter how much she tossed and turned here. Blank were her days that passed by, monotonous like the unhurried steps of patients trudging down the hospital aisles outside her ward. Stale was her life, but blaming the Originium crystals growing on her lanky legs was pointless. So many nights she had cursed against her affliction, but whichever God was throned above in those puffy white clouds cared not for her; She must not be praying loud enough.

Scoffing at herself, she brushed away her white silky hair and retreated to her only escape beyond those blurred windows.

Blue.

That was the colour of her escape from this wretched life.

Amongst that blue canvas were puffs of white that were as soft as cotton candy. Mesmerised, her hours would be spent imagining herself high above Lungmen, breathing in that crisp sky-high air. If she were to laugh, would those down on the streets laugh with her? Such a carefree dream, almost childlike, but it took the edge off from these banal days, and she would do anything to have those dreams actualised.

A dull ache throbbed down her legs. She winced, as her fingers ran down to rub against it. Where the dull ache originated, those rough Originium crystals rubbed against the tip of her fingers like sandpaper. She hated it so much that the impulse to tear her legs off her was ever-present and knocking. If only she had a bonesaw nearby…

And yet, even if the opportunity presented itself, she wouldn’t.

One day, her feet will waltz down Siracusa’s cobblestone streets while her singsong voice shall bounce off those vintage villas, inviting her neighbours to peek out their windows to greet her. Their children will race down to dance with her; Their elderly will invite her over for coffee. This dream, this selfish yet simple dream, was all her heart yearned for.

And to think these Originium crystals robbed her of that…

Why her?

She groaned out, hoping for the ceiling above to crash down upon her and—

A few knocks on the door snapped her back to reality.

“Soffia. May I come in?”

Hearing his voice always had her heart fluttering. “Please.”

“Thank you, sorellina (little sister).”

Entering was the man who was acclaimed to be Siracusa’s patriot amongst his brethren. To her, more importantly, he was her beacon of hope.

She cracked a smile and the dull throbbing pain softened. “Welcome back, Fratellone (older brother).”

His smile warmed her heart. It was richer than the glamorous spotlights back in his Golden Goose casino. How she missed glowing under those spotlights, amongst the melodies of crashing chips and jackpot machines.

Schiavo put down their lunch take-outs and hugged her tight. Time would always freeze whenever they embraced each other. Nothing would steal from these two Lupos this short-lived respite, this break from their cruel fates, and they appreciated every single cuddle. He let go and cupped her face, inspecting her closely. “Sorellina, are they not feeding you well? You’re even thinner than before.”

“Originium therapy has become a lot more harsher now, Fratellone.” She cupped his face too, “Schiavo, your eyebags… You have to sleep more.”

Her slender fingers felt him flinch to her remark, as if he was wounded, but he maintained his rosy smile. “You worry too much about me, Soffia.”

“What’s wrong, fratellone?”

“Nothing.”He whispered, “What’s the matter with you?"

A few seconds past her before she shook her head. “... Nothing.”

Schiavo kissed her by the forehead before retrieving his lunch take-outs. “Aye, I know how much you miss Siracusa. I miss it too, so that’s why we’re having Casanova’s Carbonara for lunch.”

Hastily, she cracked it open and took one good whiff, smiling as her spirits were lifted.

“Your favourite. I know.” Schiavo patted her on the head. “Please. Go ahead.”

She beamed out a smile brighter than the Sun itself. After saying grace, she clutched down on her plastic fork and stabbed straight into it.

Wolfing down on her Carbonara betrayed the table manners and ladylike etiquette she was taught ever since she was a child. Who could blame her, though? She could finally taste Siracusa again. Each bite, each slurp, each gulp was a rebellion against the boring meals the hospital catered, the worn-out nurses and doctors who could not care less about her, the mind-numbing room she was caged in for months already. She had always loved Carbonara, and she was falling deeper in love with it now.

Schiavo chuckled to himself while he offered her his handkerchief. Soffia blushed before thanking him as she wiped her mouth. “Aye, you eat with such life, sorellina.”

“I’m sorry.”

Schiavo laughed, “No, no. If anything, I’m happy to see you like it.”

“How could I not? It reminds me of home…” Her voice trembled as her heart wrung itself hearing it. Ashamed for killing the mood, she looked away from him.

“Aye, I miss our Siracusa too.” Schiavo patted her head. “We will return home. I promise you that. I always have.”

Soft humming of the air conditioner above wafted between them. Soft beepings of monitors leaked from the hallways outside into their room. A soft smile emerged from Soffia hearing that promise again. Why was it that she was distancing herself away from this hope? Shrugging it off, she went on to finish her meal.

“Aye, sorellina, since when did you grow up so fast? Seeing you blossoming into a beautiful lady, it’s breaking your fratellone’s heart.”

“When did you become so old, fratellone? You could be my nonno (grandfather) already.”

“Not only are you breaking my heart, but also my balls.”

They roared to laughter. It had been ages since she had laughed this hard and she loved it. Once their laughter fizzled out, however, Soffia’s eyes saw the hallmarks of age riddled through his face: Streaks of white hair down his lush black hair, crow’s feet, slightly drooping dimples, heavy eyebags… It was the pot calling the kettle black, however; Her lush blonde hair was now white like snow, almost as thin as her arms and legs. Where did the time go? She was a child a second ago, being tucked in by her parents back in her humble villa…

She sniffled a bit before wiping away the small tears welling up by her eyes.

“Soffia?” Schiavo took away her empty take-out container and raised a hairbrush. “May I?”

‘Steel herself,’ she thought to herself. ‘Not now.’

She nodded without another word. He rose up to his feet, walked to one side and began brushing her hair. Letting his fingers run through her silky mane, he unknotted and straightened out any lumps and clumps in her hair. Only when he was satisfied with this would he let his hairbrush comb her locks. “When was the last time you had a haircut? I could ask Stefano to give you a nice trim.”

“I couldn’t remember… Do you want to not brush my hair anymore, fratellone?”

“No. I will always brush your hair if you ask. It’s just your hair is thinner every time I visit you…”

His words trailed off before he ventured any deeper into that, but it was too late. She cocked her head away from his hairbrush, which had her wincing with some knots caught in his lingering fingers. Struggling to keep herself together, she shivered as tears cascaded down.

“... I’m sorry, Soffia. I shouldn’t have…”

“Schiavo.”

“Yes?”

“Why are we still fighting for Talulah?”

“Soffia.”

“Why are we here?” She whimpered, “What’s the point of being here? I want to go home. I want to go back to Siracusa…”

Schiavo rested the hairbrush by her bedside table and knelt before her on the other side. He cradled her hands and caught her by the eyes. “You already know why you’re here, sorellina. Lungmen’s the only nation that can treat your Originium Infection. No other nation can help us.”

“But we both know that…”

‘Don’t. Don’t say it,’ she pleaded to herself amongst her loudening snifflings. ‘Not now. At least not before him, damn it.’

With palms pressed against her eyes, she coughed and coughed, trying to puke out the tying knots in her throat. Schiavo embraced her, burying her face into his chest, keeping her together.

“We both know that…”

They both knew her prognosis. The stars above cared not for granting their wish. Be it forgetting her prognosis or rewriting her fate, they remained twinkling. Nothing more, until the Sun comes back around in the morning.

“We…”

“It’s okay, sweet Soffia. Don’t force it out. Let it be.”

Her fingers clinged onto him.

She hated this.

She hated this so much.

Talulah robbed her of him. Originium robbed her of her legs. Terra robbed her of her life. Who else wanted a piece of her? Her heart cried out. All these illusions of being normal again. All these mirages of a better future. All these fantasies… Was it too much to ask?

‘Give me back my brother.’ Her heart banged against her small flat chest. ‘Please…’

She was a burden.

She was soon to be a phantom, but her brother was already a spectre fading away from her. Him climbing the ranks within the Texas family, the central Siracusan family, and even Talulah’s Reunion itself meant him sparing less and less time with her. All for the sake of her, he assured her, and yet his visits grew sparser, his time spent dwindling.

How could she blame him for this? After all the money he had amassed to pay for her hospital bills, and all she could think of something so selfish?

She cried out louder, wishing for the Originium crystals on her legs to tear her apart.

Schiavo embraced her tighter. She wanted to wiggle out of his grasp, but she sunk deeper and deeper into him.

“I don’t want you to fight for Talulah anymore, Schiavo.”

“Soffia…”

“Please, Schiavo! Please!”

Her eyes met his.

His eyes.

Those olive green Kornerupine jewels.

It spoke of a life fading away from her grasp.

And if nothing is to be done, an eternal goodbye will replace him.

“I’m not long for this world, and I don’t want to die off not spending all the time I have left without you here with me.”

“Soffia…” Schiavo knelt down and cupped her face by the cheeks, his thumbs sweeping away these streams of tears. Her frail hands clasped onto his.

“Please, Schiavo. I… I don’t want to die alone… I don’t want to…”

Schiavo shushed her gently, “Soffia, it’s alright. Listen to me. I’ve already cut ties with Talulah.”

Her eyes widened to the news. “Really?”

“Your fratellone realised that she’s no longer fighting for the Infected ; We are mere pawns to her game, and I will no longer be anyone’s lapdog. You know how your brother works…” A weak smile tried to comfort her, “I’m fighting now for the both of us, for our future together.”

“What about your operations down in the slums?”

“Some loose strings I’ll be tying up soon. I’ll take care of it.”

“What about the money for my…”

“Aye, you rest your little head on that.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve always found a way to support you, haven’t I? I’ll see to it that you’ll keep getting your Originium Therapy.”

She nodded her head.

“I promise you, sorellina, once this is all over, I will never leave you, and you will always stay by my side.”

“You promise?”

Schiavo offered her his pinky. “Since when have I ever broken a promise?”

Her pinky wrapped around his, but loosely.

“I love you, Soffia.” He stood up and hugged her.

She hugged him back. “I love you too, Schiavo.”

He knelt back down and cupped her by her cheeks. “No more crying. Mama and Papa would hate to see you cry right now. Keep your chin up, alright, sorellina?”

With much more vigour, she nodded.

“Aye, that’s the spirit. Keep your head up and pray. Mama and Papa will rest easier up in the Heavens if you stay hopeful.” Schiavo kissed her one last time on her forehead.

“I miss Mama and Papa.”

“I miss them too. Don’t worry, sorellina. They’re in Heaven, watching over us.”

“... I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to go to Heaven.”

“Why not? It’s much more peaceful there than here in Terra.”

“Because I don’t want to leave you behind, fratellone.”

Schiavo’s fingers tensed around her face. The corners of his lips trembled. His eyes batted. He tugged her in and planted her on his chest. She heard his beating heart against his ribcage. “... I promise that your future will stay bright.”

“Don’t you mean our future?”

He nodded without another word.

Muffled rolling of wheels and soft footsteps beyond the hospital door faded away with the thick choking silence within their room. If only this moment was crystallised and immortalised like the crystals on her legs. Maybe, one day, these shards shall blossom to beautiful roses that shall remain pristine forevermore. Maybe the thorns of those roses will keep Schiavo here, next to her, but her dreams of a better life snapped away as Schiavo loosened his hug and parted.

“Wait for my next visit, okay?”

Schiavo patted her on the head before he headed towards the hospital room door. Ever since that hug, she had never caught his eyes ever again.

“Can’t you stay for a few more minutes? You were only here for a short while. We have the whole day today.”

“I’m sorry, Soffia, but I need to handle a pest problem right now. I’ll come back the moment this is all over. I promise…” His hand clutched against the door handle, but hesitated. “Anything else you need, Soffia?”

“When can we go home?”

“I…”

Grant her this one wish. She clung onto it, as she did through sleepless nights and lifeless days. Sheltered within her fingers, this shimmering wish was but a soft candle flame in the dark, and it was dimming.

“I want to go home.” Even if it killed her, she wished to rest in Siracusa. “Please.”

“... You’ll have to wait a bit longer, alright? Once I’m done, we’ll fly back home.”

One million retorts puked out of her stomach, but she clenched her teeth and swallowed it back down. As he left her hospital ward, she slumped back and drowned into her bed. To whichever angel that was listening to her prayers, she hoped that her wish was coming true, but she was getting too tired. Maybe the Gods above had too many prayers in their backlog to hear her pleas. Maybe she was not begging loud enough for the clouds above. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

She knew only one absolute. It waited for her.

She bit down her pillow and cried her heart out.

===

Schiavo crashed on the hospital chairs outside her ward.

He slouched, palms plastered against his face, and shuddered. Now was not the time to cry, he knew, but what else could he do? His Golden Goose casino, his main breadwinner, was in ruins. Where else would he get the money for Soffia’s medical bills? Sure, other ventures might cover her expenses, be it racketeering, extortion, assassinations, but all of them combined still paled to the gross income his beloved casino would rake in.

His men.

His own sworn brothers.

Mutilated, immolated, forsakened.

How could he ever answer to their families back home?

Their faces.

His fists banged against the edge of his seat. Stabilising his breath, he paced himself down the hallways regardless of the busy nurses and wandering patients.

Who else was to blame? Doctor, Texas and Lappland? He invited him there himself. He was the idiot here. Stefano? He trusted him. His right-hand man, and he failed to shackle and cage Doctor, or any of the Lupos. Was he overestimating his strengths?

Could he blame Soffia?

Seeing her fighting for her life last night as she was rushed to the A&E…

“What am I doing?” He rubbed his eyes against his sunken eyebags and crashed back to his seat? Was he losing his edge? He hated to admit it, but he was. Another sleepless night cost him so much. What was the point of ruminating so much?

“Are you alright, boss?” Stefano took his seat next to him and patted him on the back. “What happened?”

Hearing life calling him back snapped him out of his rut. He rubbed his hands against his face and took a deep breath. He straightened himself out and nodded, “Yes. I’m doing alright. It’s just… Some troubling personal matters.”

“How is the young mistress faring lately?”

Schiavo shook his head and, by instinct, whipped out his cigarette box only for him to spot the ‘No Smoking Zone’ sign down the hallway, next to Soffia’s ward.

“She’s a tough cookie, boss. She’ll fight this out.”

Schiavo set one cigarette stick on his ear and kept his cigarette box back in his pocket. “... Hope so too.”

“What now, boss? What’s the next step?”

Time was running out. Luck was running out. Money was running out. What else could he do? Betraying Talulah, losing the Golden Goose casino, grappling Soffia’s condition… He wished he had an answer for Stefano, but his hands were finally tied. Running away was never an option for him, and his consequences were finally catching up to him.

“I’m sorry, Stefano. I don’t have an answer right now—”

“Excuse me.” A medical doctor addressed Schiavo. “Are you Mr Schiavo Vita?”

“Yes.” He stood up and faced him. “What may I help you with, doctor? How’s my little sister doing so far with your treatment?”

“Unfortunately, Mr Schiavo, I’m sorry to break the news, but she’s not doing too well.”

“What do you mean?”

“After last night’s emergency operation, we’ve conducted some imaging tests and gathered a small sample for her biopsy. Her results are in. Her Originium Infection has metastasized. We foresee that she will only have four months left to live.”

“Four? Four?!” Schiavo curled his fists. “But you said six months, a few weeks back!”

“Her Originium Infection had become more aggressive to which the infection is now located down the lower vertebraes and spinal discs of her spine. Very minimal concentrations of Originium is found within her hypothalamus and her pituitary glands, where hormones are regulated within her brain. Respecting the prior decision not to subject your sister to experimental medical therapies and treatment, unless you otherwise wish to overturn it, all we can do now is to hinder its progression—”

Schiavo clutched the doctor by the collar and slammed him against the hallway walls. “HINDER ITS PROGRESSION? HOW MANY TIMES MUST I TELL YOU TO SAVE HER? SHE’S ALL I HAVE! I HAVE NOTHING ELSE BUT HER!”

Stefano rushed to Schiavo’s side and whispered into his ear, “Boss, boss, boss, calm down. We have to maintain a low profile.”

Schiavo cocked his eyes down the aisles and hallways and saw civilians witnessing this act. Panting out, he let go of the doctor’s collars and crashed back to the seats behind him.

“Signore,” Stefano intervened, brushing off any ‘dust’ by the doctor’s collars, “Please understand that my boss is facing a tough time right now. How about this? If we wish to explore other avenues of treatment elsewhere, be it experimental or not, what would be those other options we could tap into?”

“If you wish…” The doctor cleared his throat, “We may be able to expedite any request to transfer his sister to any other medical institutions established in Columbia. Their medical advances are superior as compared to any other nation on Terra, but still experimental regarding Originium Infection. Such operations are still in their infancy and if pursued now, no one could ever guarantee his sister’s health, especially after the Rhines Lab incident years back.”

“Of course.”

“If I may insert my opinion, however, I’ve heard rumours from my staff and esteemed colleagues that Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical are able to treat or at least completely stop the progression of any Originium Infection.”

“Rhodes Island…” Schiavo recalled the faces of those traitors he faced by the highway.

“Yes. Despite their notoriety of being a mercenary organisation, they are pioneers in treating Originium Infection. While it is safe to assume that their Originium treatment is experimental, it is nonetheless highly effective without many complications expected after procedures and surgeries. If you wish, I could write a letter to them if need be.”

Schiavo was blanking out. He paced his breath. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

“We appreciate the advice, Signore. For now, give us time to evaluate our position. Thank you very much.” Stefano nodded and excused the doctor to tend to other patients. “Boss, what now?”

Fate was laughing at him once again. How many times must he hear this sickening, clamouring, wicked laughter? How many times must he kill and slaughter to get his way? He betrayed the Texas family to climb the ranks of the Siracusan mafia, only to realise this cesspool of pigs had spoiled the great name of Siracusa. He betrayed them all to work with Talulah to chase that dream of freedom, salvation and hope, only to realise it was yet another illusion of the light above. Now, he had betrayed her to fight for his own ideals, but for what?

Why did he want to kidnap Texas and Lappland in the first place?

He needed to end this struggle for all of his countrymen. He needed to end this struggle against the damnation of fate itself. He needed to end this struggle of the Infected and the discrimination they face everyday. He needed Soffia to walk down those cobblestone streets amongst the vintage yet homely villas, dancing and singing without a care in the world one more time. That was what he wanted all this while. A dream for the people, the families left torn through this power struggle, this civil war back home. With Texas, he will finally learn the ways of the Texas family. With Lappland, he will finally learn how to craft weapons that shall surpass any blade on Terra. Together, he can finally reclaim a stake in his life.

"Gather all my men tonight.” Schiavo growled out, staring at the wall before him, envisioning what shall transpire tonight. “Tell them to send letters back to our dear motherland Siracusa. Wish their wives and daughters goodbye and pray that we shall return to their arms once this concludes. We make a move. Tonight."

“Roger that, boss.”

“Stefano.”

“Boss?”

“Bring along the FNSH-I prototype tonight.”

Stefano shuddered. “Boss, it is still in its infancy stages. Who knows what happens if we were subjected to its—”

“Bring it.”

Stefano bowed his head, still uneasy to the suggestion, but regardless obeyed. “... Yes, boss.”

As such, his right-hand man raced down the hallways to spread the command down to the men licking their wounds down in the slums.

Schiavo brushed off the lethargy and basked in a vision. A sinister one, something he would not entertain normally. No longer was he ambling down the hospital hallways, hearing nurses and doctors scurrying about to tend to patients, smelling the prickly scent of antiseptic medicinal alcohol and dry air.

Instead, he was basking within his vision of how tonight shall play out.

Lungmen Slums itself.

Flames devouring all, even the ashes.

An unfettered soul shall walk amongst the licks of the flame, unscorched and awakened.

The clicking of his shoes echoed down the hospital hallways, growing louder as he approached the exit.

===

“Doctor.” Lin Gray returned the handset back to the landline base. “My spy has informed me that Schiavo is making his move now. Tonight he shall commence his operation.”

“Alright.” Doctor nodded at Texas. “Gather everyone. I shall commence the final briefing before tonight’s operation.”

Chapter Text

“Eight…”

Satellites raced through the eternal white abyss over the slums. From hectares down to even the tiniest blade of grass, his eyes combed through everything. Synapses crackled like fireworks until it began splitting his head wide open.

“Snipers and spotters…”

Fractured silhouettes of Schiavo’s men refracted through kaleidoscopes. Colours saturated to a boiling rage, cooking Doctor’s eyes, and it began melting in his eye sockets. His senses sizzled. His vision shattered.

“Radios…”

“Working hard, Docere?” His past self intruded into his vision, clear without a single distortion on his image. Not too opaque to block him, but not transparent enough to be cast aside.

“Get…” Doctor growled through gritted teeth, “Out… Of my head…”

Strings of convoys roamed around the outskirts of the slums, waiting for the signal. Doctor squinted harder, trying to find another. There had to be another. Damn this pounding headache. Damn him for not being able to juggle numbers in his head. Damn his fatigue that was eating him alive, inside out. If he squinted hard enough…

Static.

Violent black-and-grey ripped through the skies and shredded into his eyes. Doctor felt every spasm through every muscle he could think of, every feverish rush through his veins, every single prick on his skin from the barrage of pins and needles digging deep into his flesh.

Even so, he could not give up now. He needed answers. Tonight was creeping in, and the odds were against them all this time. How would they survive this onslaught, let alone conclude this operation and finish off Schiavo? He needed answers, and he needed them now, but desperation grilled him on every nerve. Clawing through the static, he combed through for one final preliminary check if he had missed out anything.

“Don’t strain yourself now, Docere. We still have much to discuss once you find another memento of your past, unless tonight shall become your memento mori.” His alter ego smiled as he faded away into the sunset backdrop.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.” Doctor growled. Loosening his grip around the simulated parameters, he was waking back up to reality. “Get out of my head!”

“You can’t run away from me, Docere. Do not fear me, however. I am both your salvation…” Once again like before, his imagination of Texas thrusted her crystallised blades deep into Doctor. “... And your damnation.”

“OUT OF MY HEAD!” Doctor crashed down to the floor in the candy shop, screaming himself awake. He jolted himself awake and was greeted by the blinding ceilings lights above.

Texas rushed to his side. “Doctor? Are you okay?”

“I…” Shivering, he clung onto Texas’s arms. She supported him back up. There, against the leg of the dining table, on these creaky wooden floors, he leaned against it and caught his breath. Worried heads peeked from every entrance possible in the candy shop: Bison and Sora from the kitchen, Mostima and Exusiai from the stairway, Lappland from outside, Lin Gray right before him… “I’m alright.”

Texas sighed out, relieved. “You should have listened to me.”

“I’m fine, Texas—”

“No, you’re not.” Her glare froze him on his tracks. “You have already blazed through three consecutive Eyes of Priestess scans. Anymore, and we don’t know what will happen to you.”

She offered him a Pocky. Him accepting it gave her the cue to support him back up to his seat. Lin Gray poured him another cup of tea. Doctor bowed his head and fetched the cup with quaking hands. Nonetheless, he sipped a bit before collecting himself again. “Thank you, Lin Gray.”

“You’re welcome, Doctor.”

“Ever considered calling me ‘Doc’ or ‘Almighty Commander’?” Doctor lifted his cup up high, as if he was making a toast to them.

Lin Gray redirected his view towards Texas, who was rubbing against her eyes. “He has reached his zero-sanity state. Our apologies, but he has struck his threshold.”

“I’m just saying, lads. Calling me Doctor all the time… What PhD do I own in the first place? Clinical Neuropsychology? Pharmaceutical Sciences? Originium Therapy? No way in hell am I an actual medical doctor, like a General Practitioner, let alone a Surgeon…”

“Doctor.” Texas spoke. “Focus.”

He shrugged his shoulders, nodded at himself before dwelling deeper in his fantasies. Or, perhaps, delusions. Lappland swung the doors wide open before marching towards his side. She eyed him down, her bloodthirsty itch demanding her to hit the road and run Schiavo’s men all down. “What are we even waiting for? Those pearly white gates above are about to swing open, and we have the key. Why are we not barging down on Schiavo’s door and swinging at him?”

“I’m still trying to piece up the plan.” Doctor spoke.

“You already ran through three Eyes of Priestess. What else is there to worry about?”

“Many considerations, which I still don’t have the answers to. I need to boot up another Eyes of Priestess—”

“Doctor.” Texas reminded.

“... Sorry.” Doctor gulped down his tea and sighed out, relishing in its faint herbal aftertaste. “Still, I can’t commence the operation without knowing the full picture, and there are still holes within this puzzle.”

“I believe, then,” Lin Gray spoke out, “Further discussion between all of us present shall be able to render your assistance.”

“I suppose.” Doctor stretched out his limbs and called for all to take their seats around the table. His squad retrieved their gears, be it weaponry, catalysts or robotic drones, and settled downstairs, listening in to the briefing. To see them against this sunset backdrop with the radiant marigold orange glow upon their faces was homely to him. If only he had a few more minutes to sear this moment into his head, but his headache would not grant him that.

Thanking Lin Gray for brewing another batch of tea, he helped himself and straightened himself up.

“Tonight’s operation will be one of the hardest I shall commandeer for a variety of reasons. Unlike our regular operations, I do not have intelligence gathered from our reconnaissance squads, nor do we have the luxury to do preliminary checks around the parameters. Lin Gray, may I request that you fashion your men to be my eyes and ears on-site?”

“That, I can do. Would you need reinforcements too?”

“No. Engaging in a confrontational, large-scale approach will spark a war in the Lungmen Slums, and not only do I not want more blood to be spilt, but also our political ties between Rhodes Islands and Lungmen’s Emissary Wei Yen Wu will be jeopardised. I hate to say it, but we are all we got.”

“Fair enough.”

“Why not do our own scouting then?” Bison pitched in, checking his wrist-watch. “I believe we still have an hour before Schiavo strikes.”

Doctor shook his head. “Eyes of Priestess revealed eight snipers and spotters eyeing down here. All angles are covered, be it front, back or sides. Any movement we make beyond a certain distance, and their nighttime assault will commence.”

“That means we’re sitting ducks, huh.”

“Not necessarily. That means once we leave, we have to gun straight to Schiavo. That’s the problem. I still don’t have an idea on how to approach this…”

“Why can’t we pay a visit to those cowards up in their ivory towers then?” Lappland cracked her knuckles and bounced on her feet, vying to run down the streets. “They have to know Schiavo’s whereabouts.”

“Doubt it.” Texas answered, “Out of all the persons here, Lappland, you would understand the importance of the Siracusan ‘Omerta’.”

Lappland tsk'ed, "Those snakes would never know about honour, or even our 'beloved' code of conduct, especially not when I start breaking their fingers one by one."

Texas eyed Lappland for the moment before rolling her eyes away. That was enough for the white Lupo to tone it down with her bloodlusted delusions, after scoffing at her companion being lukewarm in their approach.

Doctor patted himself on the cheeks, keeping himself awake. “If only Schiavo sent us an invitation like last time, but after we wrecked his casino, he wouldn’t be too generous to reveal his location. Lin Gray, what else did your men gather from the report earlier?”

“They are deploying some prototype called the FNSH-I. Unfortunately, information around it is shrouded in mystery; Only those in the upper echelons of the mafia would even hear of it. Schematics, functionality, anything pertaining to it is beyond my men’s capabilities.”

Doctor groaned out at how blank his head was right there and then. Time was ticking down and to not be able to hatch a plan was pissing him off. If only he had rung up Rhodes Island to draft out more squads, but they would not make it in time. Not that his request would be authorised in the first place, with Kal’tsit personally tying his hands down.

He rose up to his feet, headed to the refrigerator at the back, swung the door open and helped himself with some orange juice. Nice cooling sips to take his mind off, much to the entertainment of everyone in the candy shop.

“Anyone else have any other ideas?” Doctor croaked.

Silence was his answer.

“Thought so.” He sighed. “If only I could scan the entire Lungmen Slums with Eyes of Priestess…”

A lightbulb flickered above his head as those words left his lips. Why could he not do exactly that? Strapped down on resources, dwelling completely in the dark, and absolutely outgunned, his only option now was to brute-force this operation. Unzipping one of his robes’ pockets, he fetched an Originium Prime crystal and let its golden shine twinkle under the lights.

“Where did you get that?” Bison asked.

“I always carry at least one for any operation, in case I run out of Sanity Potions. Only for emergencies.”

“Doctor.” Texas’s glare deepened to the sight of it.

“Rest easy, Texas. I know you’re concerned about me straining myself. If anything, though, we don’t have any other option. And besides, running the risk of receiving permanent neurological alterations and diseases is another day for me.”

“Wouldn’t there be other options for us?”

“I’m all ears for anyone to pitch an idea.”

And yet, the silence was telling.

“I’ll be honest here. Whatever plan I have hatched up is not soundproof. If anything, we are risking our necks on the chopping board should we pursue this course of action. I implore you all again to pitch out any other ideas we can implement. Otherwise…”

His eyes returned to the Originium Prime crystal and admired it. He had cashed in on these for the most exuberant, decadent outfits and costumes Closure could procure, and he had never ingested any of these for a sanity boost. Now, however, called for action. With only whatever scraps there were left in the candy shop, and with only this squad before him, he had to take one gamble, one leap of faith tonight for that shimmering hope of tomorrow’s morning. Sitting here and waiting for Schiavo to come busting down the door shall seal his fate. Now was the time, but what are the chances of him pulling it off…”

“... I invest my trust that we can thread the needle tonight.”

“Pray tell you’ll share with us this mastermind of a plan you’ve been hyping us about, Doctor.” Lappland was all ears and smiles.

“Lin Gray. Emperor.”

They cocked their heads to his command.

“Think you can fetch me a map of the Slums and a van?”

—

If the morning and afternoon were where one would toil, then it would be the coddling blanket of the evenings that shall be one’s respite. To say he was a night owl of a person was an understatement; Swamped with so much paperwork from Amiya and Kal’tsit, his pen scribbled through lines and lines as the Sun itself went to bed. From his office, he would bask in the grand view before him whilst munching down on some bonbons. His dreams faded away into a darkening blur as he reawakened back to reality, by the back of the passenger van Emperor procured. Winds whistled past the van as Texas floored the gas pedal. Finding himself by the highway again, where they confronted Schiavo for the first time yesterday, he prayed that tonight will be different.

Sitting by the shotgun seat, what awaited before him was the grand Lungmen itself, striking beyond the horizon with its golden strips of wonder throughout the night skies. Neon lights far by the horizon, where passersby enjoyed their evening stroll, invited him for a moment of retreat, away from everything. Seeing Texas by his side, flooring the gas pedal, reminded him that he still needed to bring her out for Casanova. He took a breath before fiddling the Originium Prime crystal with his fingers.

“Exusiai, Emperor.” He called to the back. “Remember not to overextend. Bison, Silence and Croissant will offer you cover, so take your time and gun down anyone tailing us.”

“Got it, Saviour!” Exusiai’s wings were sizzling out in excitement as translucent silhouettes of assault rifles began to materialise behind her. “I’ll be trusting you to amp up the ante, Sora.”

“Yep!” Sora chirped next to her as Emperor chuckled to himself. She began humming and attuning her vocal cords, priming herself ready for a Hymn.

“Mostima, Lappland.” He called to them who were positioned by the side doors. “Prime your catalysts and throw off anyone trying to mount us.”

“Got it.” Mostima looked over her shoulder to see Lappland’s fangs bared out. “Don’t get too excited now, Lappland. None of us will u-turn if you jump out of the van.”

“Spare me the sermon!” Lappland laughed out, “Tonight is the night where they drive themselves to their misery as I shall pave them the highway to hell itself!”

Mostima looked back at Doctor and shrugged her shoulders.

“Texas.”

A sideway glance from his driver answered.

“Drive true now.”

She nodded. “Leaving Lin Gray and Yuxia back in the candy shop… Was that wise, Doctor?”

“I don’t want them entrenched in this affair any longer. Besides, we are Schiavo’s main targets, and I don’t want to disappoint.”

Texas nodded as she popped another Pocky in her mouth. “Good luck, Doctor.”

“Thank you.”

Without further ado, he popped the Originium Prime crystal and gulped it down without even chewing it down. He gagged and coughed, but felt himself dissociating with his own body. Each and every neuron, all 86 billion synapses, flared up into fireworks. Fire singed down through his spine through every single muscle fibre of his body. Trickling down to the last muscle fibre, to the last cell, even down to the last atom, his eyes studied every single bit of himself. He clutched himself by the sides, keeping himself together, and groaned out, but his voice was by the seas, down by the slums, racing up and down the highway, not within the van itself.

Whoever he was was reduced to nothing more than an idea. Everything beyond him was him now; Free from the chains of his mortal body, he was high up in the clouds, beyond the sky, becoming the endless bounds of space itself.

And from the skies themselves, his eyes were wide open.

“Foresight of Priestess!”

His eyes were drones hovering over their passenger van, watching over a 500m radius almost with no static blurring disrupting his view. Every single person’s heartbeat within this radius was viewed through every single wall, car or object.

And a few convoys were converging onto their position. All marked red, like an army ants, and they were speeding up.

“Eh Baws!” Croissant barked from the back. “We got a rodeo of bandits on our tail! About 3 of them—”

Bullets pinged and grazed against their shields, as Exusiai and Emperor returned fire. Schiavo’s men’s convoy trucks and cars were riddled with bullets, and with some bodies crashing by the roadside, but more took their position.

Doctor peered ahead and saw complete bloody red congesting the highway up ahead and the exit. All except one. “Texas, Exit 111B.”

She caught the exit sign and steered towards them. The convoy followed a few 100m away, and all lined up on a single file.

“Apple Pie!” Laterano’s redhead hailed down the storm and overclocked herself, with Sora shrilling up to the Hymn.

Motorcycles vroomed to the side doors, to be greeted with Lappland slashing away and Mostima blasting at them, and yet more and more came from the labyrinth of the Slums.

‘Schiavo’s squad ahead of us…’ Doctor spotted them away, deploying something by the roads. Something metallic, something rusted and sprawled all over the floor. ‘Road spikes… Turrets?!’

“Texas!” Doctor spoke, “Right. Now.”

She steered and straight ahead was a narrow strip of road amongst the squatters with ebbings and curves. The entire van rocked back and forth, with those standing clutching the handles above them.

“One hell of a rodeo!” Croissant cheered out as she braced against her shield with Bison giving a nervous chuckle.

One of the henchmen mounted on top of his convoy and aimed down a rocket launcher.

“Mostima! To the rear!” Doctor beckoned.

A rocket propelled forward. Smoke gushed out of it as it rushed down to the van.

“On it.”

Bison and Croissant gritted their teeth, terrified of the blast.

“Locks of Shattered Time.” Mostima invoked.

Freezing mid-flight, the rocket stayed still. Square strobes of light collapsed upon that area around the rocket. The convoys slammed on the brakes, but it skidded to the edge of it. Mostima smirked as her van turned another sharp corner. Bidding them farewell, she patted Exusiai on the back before returning to her position by the side of the van. Whatever happened to the convoy? The explosion behind them was enough to take a gander.

Scratching against the sides of the van, the entire squad stuffed their ears with their hands as they were plunged to the side. Speeding down these narrow strips, Texas shifted her weight to turn the steering wheel. Screeches and shrieks from the wheels shrilled out, terrifying the civilians returning home. If only she had a moment to breathe, but to crash into any of these shophouses and homes was more than enough to keep her alive and awake.

By the end of this squiggling strip, Doctor spotted, was the end of this nightmare and towards wider roads and junctions, straight and true. It would have been a breather, but two furniture trucks were converging by the roads parallel to them. Full of Schiavo’s men, and with LMGs locked and loaded. Once his van reached the end of the strip, only then will they finally meet face to face.

“Anyone else know how to drive?!” He called out, but a resounding ‘no’ returned. Doctor died inside. “Texas!”

“What?”

“Head to Lappland. I’ll take the wheel.”

“You’re still in your Foresight of Priestess—”

“Trust me!”

Texas hesitated. She shook her head, “... Fine.”

She joined them at the back and tagged Lappland. “Texas! So nice of you to join— Wait, who’s driving?”

“Doctor.”

“Isn’t he…” Texas nodding was enough for Lappland to holler. “He’s losing it! The madness of the world itself has corrupted his core and he shall finally see everything through my eyes! Aren’t you happy for him?!”

“I won’t be, if we crash and burn—” The van began swerving to and fro, hardly scraping by the sides of the shophouses. Exusiai failed to get a line of sight for the convoy behind. Her Vector SMG kept firing forth, but it almost capped Bison. “This idiot.”

“Texas! Lappland!” Doctor beckoned for them to listen, “By the end of this junction, jump straight into the truck next to us!”

“What truck?” Lappland asked.

“You’ll see soon enough. Those bastards are trying to tackle us by bumping our tail and possibly trying to mount us. Get ready.”

Peeking their heads out, their hair fluttered to the gusts blowing through. Beyond the rustic dull shophouses was the main road, the main artery connecting all these narrow capillaries of sideroads. It was a sight to behold, as it was leading straight to a wide truss bridge, much like the highway. From there, anyone had a clear vantage view of the ocean beyond them. Indeed, it was one hell of a tourist attraction, with the shimmering reflection of the moon rippling on the lapping waves below. To whichever tourists lingered right now, they were about to have one hell of a roadshow.

200m until the end of this narrow strip, Doctor pinged himself. Seeing himself in a third person view was beyond his comprehension, much less driving the van. One tad bit to the left on the steering wheel, and he would have to tug it to the other side. He slammed his foot down the gas pedal and lifted the other off the brakes, regardless, hoping to outrace the trucks.

To no avail.

100m now. Those trucks beyond the strip of shophouses were about to collide with him, coming from both sides. “Mostima! Exusiai! Aim left now!”

“Damn it!” Exusiai punched her Vector SMG. “It’s jammed!”

“I’m dry on my end too, Doctor.” Mostima called back.

“Bison! Croissant! Guard left side, now! Buy them time!”

“Wait, what—” Bison ducked in time as more bullets crashed upon his shield. “We’ll be completely exposed from the rear—”

And there, two huge furniture trucks greeted them by the side, almost kissing their van.

“Fuck me.” Doctor exclaimed, “Texas! Lappland! Now!”

The right furniture truck’s doors opened and lo and behold, a chain gun aimed straight down at them. It began revving up.

“Sword Rain!” Texas jammed her crystallised swords into the chain gun. Lappland hollered out as both of them pounced into the right truck.

The left furniture truck’s doors opened and greeting the van were an entire firing squad with Thompson SMGs, aiming down.

Bison and Croissant leapt to the left side of the van and interlocked their shields.

Doctor slid down to the base of the driver seat, where his body was basically under the steering wheel.

Exusiai remedied her jam and aimed down at the rear again.

Bullets pierced through the windows and dented deep into the metallic body of the van. Another platoon of Schiavo’s men positioned themselves by the end of the truss bridge and set up the road spikes, turrets and chainguns.

“Not good.” Doctor could not lift his foot off the gas, because otherwise, the entire squad would be eaten up by the rear convoys. The furniture trucks besides him were his entourage to death itself; No way he could swerve and manoeuvre around this. As bullets pelted the van, he rolled down the car window, “Texas! Texas! Can you hear me?!”

The last few bodies were flung out of the furniture truck. She popped up, bloodied and panting, “What?!”

“Think you can hijack the truck?”

“On it.”

Both Lupos marched to the front and took care of the driver.

BAM.

The left furniture truck banged on the left side of the van, throwing Doctor and the entire van crashing to the right furniture truck. Schiavo’s henchmen tried to board the van, but Croissant swung at them fighting back. Bison guarded the rear, but it could only do so much to cover their entire squad. Bullets from the rear convoy kept firing. One landed right into Exusiai’s bicep, another pierced through Doctor’s seat and grazed right through his shoulder. Smoke began to engulf the entire front seats, but Doctor cared not.

“Bison! Croissant! Provide cover!” Doctor barked against the screeching wheels whose rubber popped. “Everyone else, board the truck! Now!”

Texas took control of the truck as Lappland stretched out her hand to start fetching them. One by one, they jumped to the truck beside them.

“Bison! Croissant! Go!” Doctor barked.

“We can’t leave you behind!” Bison shouted.

“It’s fine! Just jump!”

“C’mon, lad!” Croissant hoisted him by the back of his hoodie, “Baws demands it, Baws gets it!”

They both jumped into the truck next to them. All that was left was Doctor by the driver seat.

By then, they were halfway through the truss bridge. Schiavo’s men beyond them began to gun down the van.

“Drive faster, Texas!” Lappland barked, trying to reach the driver seat’s door. “I can’t reach out to Doctor.”

The furniture truck vroomed to life, and colliding against the van was enough to close the gap between them. Lappland ripped open the van door and reached out for him.

The left furniture truck slammed against the van, which also slammed against the right furniture truck. Lappland, thanks to the impact, crashed hard against the inner walls of the truck, away from Doctor. From the smoking van, Schiavo’s men yanked Doctor out of his seat and tossed him into their trucks.

“YOU BASTARDS!” Lappland roared and almost jumped back, but what good would she do? Her blades were too long for such close quarter combat, and fists were nothing compared to their Thompson SMGs. She barked at Texas, “TEXAS! THEY GOT DOCTOR!”

Texas glared through the rear mirror and floored the gas pedal.

The van was already in flames and lagged behind. All that was left were the two furniture trucks side by side, with the platoon ahead gunning down the van.

Schiavo’s men had retrieved Doctor’s lifeless body. Doctor snapped back out of his Foresight of Priestess and struggled, but alas, he was but one man to the horde. They gagged and tied him up.

“We got one of them, boss.” One of them spoke to the radio set.

“Which one?” Stefano’s voice replied.

“He’s a funny-looking one, wearing a hoodie with this humidity. Who goes around dolled up for winter?”

“Ah, yes! Signore Doctor! Excellent news. Schiavo would be delighted to hear this. Bring him back to the compound—”

The entire truck quaked and all of his men fell to their knees.

Texas steered right, retreating away from them for the time being, before slamming against them once again. Exusiai, even with Silence tending to her torn bicep, aimed down her Vector SMG single-handedly and gunned straight for the truck’s driver. It was hard, even with the featherweight of her SMG and its schematics suppressing recoil almost perfectly, but aiming with one hand whilst riding a bull of a truck proved to be almost impossible.

200m away from the other end of the truss bridge.

Bullets were hailing down onto Penguin Logistics. Texas ducked under the wheel and kept slamming against the other truck, trying to throw it off its tracks.

150m away now.

Mostima rushed to the front side and shuffled to the shotgun seat. “Hold me.”

She flung open the passenger door and hung to the door, with one of Texas’s hands hooked onto her shorts.

100m away.

“Nice weather out here.” She chuckled to herself, admiring the beautiful full moon, whilst brandishing both catalysts.

50m.

“Key of Chronology.”

She aimed down her left catalyst, setting the platoon before her at her crosshairs, and struck with the right catalyst. Roman numerals began emerging from the ground beneath them. Bells chimed. Like debris, all of Schiavo’s henchmen and their toys were swept away as the trucks raced against each other.

“Job here’s done.” Mostima plopped back to her seat and stretched her limbs out. She passed a sideway glance to Texas, “Now that’s a scowl I’d be terrified of.”

Texas, seeing the other truck racing forward, stomped against the gas pedal, racing deeper into hell itself.

“Boss.” One of Schiavo’s men within their truck, the one handling the radio set, called out for Stefano, “This shmuck’s chicks are tailing us. What do we do?”

“Even better! Change of instructions then. Let them tail you all and lead them back to the compound. I shall prepare for their arrival.”

“Roger that, boss.”

Doctor began to lose consciousness, cursing at this situation. How lucky were Schiavo’s men to capture him like this? Did he bite off more than he could chew? He wished he had enough sanity to calculate the chances, but everything was fading away. Before long, he collapsed and blacked out.

“Evening, Docere.” His past self greeted him.

Doctor cracked his eyes open and found himself back on the shores of Siracusa, where he was before the magnificent sunset and Priestess ankle-deep by the waves. He pushed himself up and scurried to his feet, approaching his past self who was sitting by a washed-up tree trunk. “Wake me back up.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t. You overburdened yourself with your newfound abilities and thus short-circuited yourself. Nothing more you can do except give yourself some time to rest.”

“Wake me back up! Texas and the entire squad need me right now! I can’t let myself be captured by Schiavo!”

“And yet, here you are, within the claws of your enemies.”

“Bastard!” He cocked a fist ready, but remembered what happened before and let it go. He took his seat by the other end of the washed-up tree trunk and plopped down.

“Tell me, Docere. What were you hoping to achieve with your plan earlier?”

“With the Foresight of Priestess, I was hoping to comb through the entirety of the Slums to sniff out Schiavo. I did expect heavy resistance from Schiavo, but not to this amplitude.”

“Fair enough. No other way around this matter, I presume?”

Doctor nodded, ashamed of that statement.

His past self chuckled, “You still haven’t lost yet.”

“How so?”

“You overheard his men’s conversation over the radio. You got what you wanted, which is a ticket straight to Schiavo. Was it worth it, though?”

Doctor shook his head. Did he just lead them to their deaths?

“You haven’t.”

“Stop reading my thoughts. Some privacy would be greatly appreciated.”

“I could leave you alone, if you wish, but I believe some company is much appreciated even with the likes of me.”

As much as Doctor hated to admit it, he did not protest to the idea. “Since we’re here, I’ve been meaning to ask since our last visit.”

“Pray tell.”

“... Tell me more of Priestess herself.”

Chapter Text

—
Doctor
“Privacy is just a word.”
—

“Don’t you dare slack off.” Kal’tsit barked, eyeing the mountain of paperwork upon his desk.

“I won’t. I promise.” Doctor fidgeted in his seat.

After a momentary glare from her, she left the Doctor all to himself. His office door clicked itself locked and her footsteps faded away.

Doctor stood up, dumped the mountain of paperwork by the coffee table before him, and kicked back and groaned out loud. Free at last, he exclaimed as loud as he could in his fractured mind. Free was he for this brief moment, and nothing will rob him this respite. Not Amiya. Not Kal’tsit. No one. Absolutely no one. Clacking away at his keyboard, he filled in the search bar almost every website he bookmarked: From streaming services where his favourite operators were live on air, to some raunchy adult sites that he dared not share with anyone. Best part? Based on the schedule, he had an entire hour to himself; Sun was setting and operators and administrative staff alike were heading back to their dorms, if not the local pubs and eateries on Rhodes Island. Fetching himself some shot glasses, a nice bottle of whisky, some lotion and box of tissue, he was about to have himself a blast—

A knock on the door.

His heart imploded. He shoved everything underneath the desk. “Yes?!”

“Doctor! Can I come in?” A muffled squeaky voice spoke through the door. Answering it, he unlocked the door and what greeted him was the most precious fluffball in the entire landship.

“Ah. Evening, Suzuran.” One nice hug and a pat on her head afterwards, “Finished your homework?”

She nodded her head before handing him a friendship bracelet. It was weaved in a sky-blue and sunshine-yellow pattern. “I made this for you!”

If he was not dead by Kal’tsit’s hands later, he would have been dead now with how absolutely adorable Suzuran was here. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Can I come in?”

“Maybe not tonight.” He hinted at the huge pile of work he excused himself with. “I need to burn the midnight oil and finish all that.”

“I can help, Doctor.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” He patted her head, “But I can handle it.”

“You looked tired, though.” She noticed him fidgeting a slight bit. “Maybe I can help with some of it?”

It was hard saying ‘no’ to the light of Rhodes Island. Trust him. It took every fibre of his heart to garner a ‘no’. It was hard enough to say ‘no’ to any other operator here, from the adorable dolls like Goldenglow, Amiya and Sussuro, to the hot-headed demons like Ch’en, Kal’tsit and Gladiia. It was much harder with Texas. Rejecting Suzuran herself, where she stood before you with those beady marigold eyes that resonated with a sunrise shine upon the wheat fields? Doctor was about to throw himself off the top floor from the highest point on this landship for saying no. But tonight was his night to unwind. That was what he was going for. Absolutely. Exactly. Precisely that.

He stuck out one pinky for her. The fabled pinky promise! “I promise I will be fine, Suzuran.”

She beamed out a smile as she wrapped her pinky around hers. “Okay, Doctor.” She hugged him again, and he embraced her back. “Take care of yourself.”

As she hopped down the hallway, he locked the office door and returned to his workstation. Now, time for some quality time, he thought out loud. Was it so wrong to take care of oneself? Hardly—

Another knock on the door. He rubbed his eyes.

Answering it, Cuora greeted him. “Doctor!”

Ah. Another precious one. “Evening, Cuora. Can I help you?”

“Let’s play baseball! Red is coming too.”

What he would do to play baseball with Cuora and Red right now, these two clumsy balls of joy. His heart was torn asunder, every fibre was ripped apart. Running down the fields to play some ball with them was pristine quality time right there, but he had rejected Suzuran already. Saying ‘yes’ now would leave a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. Saying ‘no’ was already terrible now. How selfish of a person he had become! “I’m really sorry, Cuora. This old man had to clear some paperwork tonight. Another time.”

“Aww. Alright then. This weekend? Are you free?”

Another pinky promise was initiated. Cuora’s pinky wrapped around his. “I promise.”

“Alright. See you around, Doctor!”

As she bounced down the hallway, he locked the office door once again, and plopped in his seat. He groaned out, poured himself a drink and plopped an ice cube in. One nice sniff lured him in. One sip took the edge off. Sighing out, he calculated the chances of another operator knocking on his door—

And yet, another operator knocked on his door.

‘Whoever was listening to my inner thoughts’, he thought to himself, ‘I swear. Leave me alone.’

Answering it, Red stood there with her tail wagging and puppy eyes twinkling before him. “Red wants to play with Doctor and Cuora.”

May he be crucified where he stood. “I’m really sorry, Red. I can’t play with you tonight.”

“But Red wants to play…” Downcasted eyes. Hoodie tucked in. Slumped shoulders.

Doctor was a monster.

He groaned out. “Alright, alright. Call Cuora and Suzuran, and some of your other friends. Let’s play some baseball tonight.”

Voila. That starry shine in Red’s eyes dazzled back up. Without a single word spared, she nodded and sprinted down the hallways to go fetch them. His heart couldn't take the punishment anymore. He supposed his alone time was scheduled for another time. For now, he had a baseball game to play.

“Doctor.” Amiya squeaked out from the hallway, “Are you done with the paperwork?”

“No. Why?”

“Kal’tsit informed me you were, as I quote from her, ‘regressing back into a monkey’ with your recent Internet activity, so I came by to check on you.”

When would he ever have some privacy in this landship? He groaned out and pleaded for whichever higher being was listening to him to answer his prayers.
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—
Texas and Lappland
“A Sprinkle of Salt and Sugar”
—

“What’re you having, Texas?” Indulging in the dim lights and soft jazz in the background of this cafe, Lappland sunk deeper in her posh seat and flipped through the menu. “Matcha parfait? Chocolate Mousse? Tiramisu? I’d kill for a Tiramisu right now.”

Texas batted her eyes at the view before her. Lappland, her evergreen thorn of her side, chatting her up with small talk and talking about desserts, in a high-end cafe where Sora frequented. This rugged character, who reeked of blood-fuelled lunacy, donning on her tattered jackets and shorts, stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the refined patrons donning on cardigans, dresses, anything that did not spell our ‘war’. Her invitation for some desserts had to be a prank, Texas reasoned with herself, which was why she accepted it; To let Lappland roam around the hallways to lure her victims in for whatever scheme she crafted left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue. Now? It was as if she was teetering between a dream and a nightmare.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Lappland commented. “How about coffee? You like yours black or with milk and sugar?”

What was she up to, Texas thought to herself. She knew Lappland long enough, so she expected half of the upcoming conversations to be revolving around their pasts, the other half being about her demanding her for a spar.

“Hello…?” Lappland waved at her. “Are you…? You’ve been staring at me the entire time, and while it’s a turn-on, I’m getting hungry.”

Texas snapped out of it. “Coffee. No sugar, only milk.”

Lappland waved at the waiters. Understandably, the poor lad shivered as he penned down their orders before hurrying himself back to the kitchen.

“Now.” Lappland straightened herself up.

Texas squinted, studying every movement Lappland exhibited: Her fingers tapping against the tabletop, her shifting gaze back and forth, her somewhat stiff posture. What was troubling her? Stringing Lappland up like this was a rare sight. Not even the deepest pools of blood or the highest shrills of shrieks terrified her this much; If anything, Lappland was the main star in these war-stricken plays.

“What type of guys are you into?”

Texas’s eyes were about to pop out of their sockets and roll down the darkwood floors. “What?”

“... Touchy topic?”

“What…?” Texas pushed her eyes back in and rubbed, “What kind of question was that?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I expect this type of question from Sora, not you.”

“C’mon, Texas. Give me a break.” Lappland slouched against her chair’s armrest. “I’m trying to understand how to do this ‘small talk’ business.”

Lappland? Small talk? Friendly conversations? Not going off-tangent with another spiritual rambling about delivering comeuppance to those that had wronged her? “Why?”

“Summing it up? Seeing your buddies hang around you and having a blast together, I’ll admit it, I’m jealous. I’m not oblivious to what my reputation has gifted me, and I gave some thought about it. A nice change of pace would be lovely, and a certain Archosaurian sniper would appreciate it too.” Lappland snickered before thanking the waiter for delivering their desserts. For Texas, a nice cup of coffee with a tiny pitcher of milk. For Lappland, one whopping slice of Tiramisu.

Easing up upon hearing Lapland's confession, Texas nodded to that. If anything, Lappland was asking the wrong person. Out of the entire Rhodes Island roster, Texas was one of the most reserved operators there was. Any other social butterfly would have taught her how to socialise a bit better, be it Sora, Exusiai, Mostima, so on and so forth. And yet, it was fine if it was not spelt out loud for Texas. She got the memo.

“By the way, Texas,” Lappland gulped down a bite of her Tiramisu, “You haven’t answered my question. What type of guys are you into?”

“Cut it out.”

Lapland's grin curled, “You have a crush, don’t you?”

“I don’t.”

“C’mon, Texas. We are merely two ladies enjoying some nice tea time together.”

Hearing that spewing from Lappland's mouth was almost enough for Texas to spit out her coffee. “... Shut up.”

“Are you into Doctor?”

Texas was about to splash hot coffee on Lappland right now. “No. I’m not.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time with him. You’re his personal assistant for two months straight. Maybe…?” Lappland rolled her eyebrows, hinting Texas something right now. Any further, and it would not be the scorching hot stain of brown that shall be painting her right now. Texas raised her hand up, fingers twitching to unleash a Sword Rain. A waiter nodded at the signal and retrieved her the bill.

“Doctor and I are on a strict colleague-to-colleague basis, where we uphold a certain standard of professionalism. Stop prying into our relationship, or whichever you wish to call it.”

“Saying such a stretch only means you love him, you know?” She flashed out a grin full of fangs.

Texas flung a box of Pocky straight at Lappland’s face.

Lappland flung a bit of her Tiramisu straight at Texas.

Had it not been for the waiter trying to calm them down, begging as he pushed them away from each other, the entire cafe would have been repurposed as a more modern sparring ground.
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—
Exusiai and Mostima
“Opposites Attract”
—

If anyone were to spend more than a minute observing the two Sanktas, a plethora of differences would erupt from them. All their colleagues from Rhodes Islands, especially to Penguin Logistics, noticed. Shrouded in mystery, their relationship was nothing less than an enigma. To be fair, most of the operators residing here in this already estranged landship hid their past lives from any prying eyes; Ask anyone of the past lives they had lived, and one would see themselves at the end of a barrel, a blade or an incantation, if not a stern warning issued from the Human Resources department. However, spending at least a few moments people-watching would paint a pretty picture if one were to watch these two. Doctor sketched out a few baseless backstories for what could have transpired in their past lives, but alas. Nothing in the operator files unearthed anything. Was it a damsel-in-distress moment, where Mostima swooped in to save Exusiai from impending danger, or vice versa? Was it a slow-boiling slice-of-life romantic story where their hearts intertwined by an old-fashioned bar with drinks in their hands and nothing else shackling them down? Was it a dramatic gangster-inspired feud, where they were both from warring factions, only to end up together? Now that? Doctor would pay to watch.

‘I really need to stop Sora from passing any more Shoujo manga.’ Doctor thought to himself.

“Hiya, Doc’.” Speak of the devil, and she had appeared.

“Afternoon, Sora.”

“May I sit next to you? You look too lonely here in the cafeteria, especially since it’s lunch hour.”

“Feel free.”

With that, Sora scooched over to Doctor’s side of the banquette. Aligning her line-of-sight to Doctor’s, she pieced up the puzzle. “Speculating how they got together?”

“Aren’t you a mind-reader.” He smirked, “Whatcha’ got for me, Sora?”

“Flavour of the day about them?” Sora, with one finger patted on her chin, spoke, “A maid cafe setting.”

“... How would that play out?”

Framing the two Sanktas by making a rectangle with her fingers, Doctor and Sora peeped into her rosy world and ventured deep into their daylight fantasy.

Imagine…
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
… In a cosmopolitan city such as Lungmen, following an offbeat path hosted a modest cafe. A cafe not too flashy at first glance but this chic ‘homely’ aesthetic comforted any tired soul returning home. Sitting inside would be enough for anyone to indulge in the cooling air-conditioned air with some light classical music singing in the background, but outside offered an even more soothing treasure. Taking her seat outside, under the withdrawn sunshade and by the mini lavender garden, Mostima waved at one of the waitresses she had become all too acquainted with. Springing out of the cafe, everyone’s favourite beamed out brighter than the streaking light the city shined out to this twilight sky.

“Evening, madam!” Exusiai welcomed her. “What can I get for you?”

“Are you on the menu?”

“Oh, stop it, you.” Nudging her by the shoulder, she giggled out. “Usual blend of coffee?”

One nod, and she fluttered back to the roasters.

Mostima loosened up her tie, unbuttoned her collar and watched Exusiai. They were worlds apart. Exusiai was a hard-rock song blasting down the highways, while Mostima was a symphony rising the theatre to a crescendo. Being of the same race warranted her no points of familiarity too. Not that she cursed the Sarkaz tail trailing from her hips, nor the horns from the crown of her head. And yet, seeing this butterfly flutter about the cafe, chatting on and on with that adorable wink each time she was delighted by a compliment, Mostima fell an inch deeper into her dream of being with her. How she wished to capture these passing moments in a picture. She shook to that; Time was under her mercy, indeed, but to freeze up time would spoil that flamboyant flair from her angel.

Exusiai rushed out with Mostima’s cup of coffee. Setting down her cup on her saucer and positioning the tiny jugs of milk and sugar syrup next to it, she bowed down. “I apologise for the wait. Please enjoy—”

Mostima sprung to her feet and stood before her. Her angel of a waitress stepped back, but she caught her by her back. “You look awfully beautiful tonight.” Exusiai shied away, but a stray hand lifted her by the chin. “And I haven’t gotten your name.”

“My…” Exusiai stuttered, her maiden heart beating against her chest. “My name is Exusiai.”

“No…”

Mostima tugged her in.

“... Your real name...”

Exusiai was all she could see.

“... I want to know the real you.”

“Le…” Exusiai’s halo shined brighter. “Lemuel.”

“Lemuel.” Mostima brushed aside a stray lock of hair; She did not want anything to obstruct this beautiful scene before her.

“I’m sorry, madam, but—”

“It’s Mostima.”

“I’m… I’m really sorry, Madam Mostima, but I can’t…” Her words trickled off, as her rosy blush overpowered her. Closing her eyes, she pursed her lips and let everything before her fade away.

“Why not?” Mostima whispered, before tasting a dessert sweeter than anything this cafe could offer. “Scared to be with someone like me?”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
… Sora fanned herself with her hands, piping herself down before she shrieked out. Doctor rubbed his face against his palms. He, too, was trying not to be swept away by it.

“Having fun, are we?” Mostima’s shadow crept behind them, looming over them. Both of them froze mid-fantasy, forgetting that the blue-haired fallen Sankta could freeze time at will. “Mind sharing with me what fantasy you two were indulging in today?” Catching them both by the shoulder, she inserted herself in between them and nodded Exusiai to come by the banquette.

“Sorry, Doc’.” Sora shuddered, “I need to head to the infirmary. I feel sick—”

Mostima shot at her a carefree smile, and that was enough to clamp her down. “Do you, now?”

Sora bit down her lips and began praying for mercy.

Doctor, for once, prayed for Kal’tsit or Amiya to fetch him.

Alas.
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—
Sora and Emperor
“Music To My Ears”
—

“Emperor.” Sora squeaked out in the recording studio at her boss who was playing with the sound mixer. “Do you think I should change my style?”

Emperor lowered the volume to the beat he tuned up. “Switchin’ up style? To dial up your profile for another ain’t worthwhile. What set ya for this trial?”

“I mean, everyone else is trying their best to polish themselves and master their skills. I don’t want to let them down, you know. Maybe if I spice up my hymns, they’d be even more inspired to fight on?”

Emperor pondered on that thought before cranking back the volume. “Drop some bars then.”

“Bars?”

“Bop to hip-hop. Cop out from pop and drop some…” Her face spelt out the world ‘Confused’ in bold. “What I meant is, have you tried rap before, girl?”

She shook her head. “I tried after listening to some of the vinyls you shared, but it’s not my cup of tea, boss.”

He flicked down his sunglasses and eyed her down, and yet she did not flinch. “... 3Pak?”

She shook her head.

“Ice^3?”

Again, she shook her head.

“Infamous Biggie? Mister Tree? Easy-Yi?” Yet again, much to his dismay, she shook her head. “You’re killing my vibe, girl.”

“Sorry, boss.”

Someone knocked on the recording studio door. Emperor barked, “We’re recording over here! Wait your turn.”

“It’s me.” Texas replied.

“The captain of my crew, right on cue. Come right through.” Emperor unlocked the door and let her in. Texas crashed on the swivel chair next to Emperor’s, and waved at Sora. “What had you come by the crib, Texas?”

“Spare time, and I heard Sora was singing.”

“Hear this. Sora’s pissed, ‘cause she wants to twist her premise. Diss her old style, she needs a new kiss.” Two question marks from both his ladies had him shaking his head, disappointed. “I thought I taught you both better. What I meant to say is Sora needs a new style. She doesn’t feel like her hymns right now are doing enough for y’all.”

“Really?” Texas asked, “I always love her songs. Why would she change it up?”

And that was enough for rainbows to spew out of Sora’s heart. Blushing, she cleared her throat, “Thank you, Texas! Alright! Forget it! I’m ready to record, guys!”

“Eh?” Emperor boomed out from the studio, “I thought you said you want to switch it up!”

“It’s fine!” Lo and behold, that idol smile that had swooned the masses flashed out with all of its glory, “As long as Texas loves it, then I’ll keep singing!”

Texas chuckled to herself. Seeing her sunshine of a crewmate beaming out like this was enough for her.

“Yo, Tex.” Emperor spoke.

“What?”

“Ever considered being an idol?”

“Ever considered being a penguin steak?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

“Your loss, girl.”

With that, Sora sang her heart out.

Chapter Text

Tires skidded and screeched with the whistling winds. Bullets chattered, fighting against the storm above them. Smog clouds, infused with that scent of gasoline, were set to choke both convoys out. Death was riding with them, waiting for them to fall through the railings or crash against the mountainside.

And yet, both raced down to Schiavo’s. None of them could afford to die now.

“Damn it.” Exusiai groaned out as her Overloading Mode wavered until it was nothing more than steam. “Not now.”

Why was it so hard to demobilise a convoy? Damn that stray bullet that shredded through her bicep! Aiming with only one hand, whilst rodeoing in this quaking furniture van that tossed and turned through every corner imagined? And to pop all six tires of the convoy ahead? If only she could shred through the van’s walls, but what were they made of? Were they reinforced? Not a single bullet penetrated through. Even if she did, what were the chances of hitting Doctor? What were the chances of hitting the driver, sending the van off course and plummeting down the cliff…?

“Line of sight.” She muttered to herself, steadying her breathing…

“Recoil.” Aligning her barrel onto the rear wheels of the kidnappers’, she locked on…

“Don’t snatch the trigger. Pull through.” Even with the hectic driving, her aim was true.

She opened fire.

Nothing.

Released from the feed was an empty magazine. Her fingers scurried throughout her body, salvaging for another magazine.

Nothing.

“I’m dry…”

C’mon, there had to be another. She patted herself down once more. She couldn’t let them slip with Doctor now. Not now. She could not wait for another Overloading Mode to fuel her feed with an infinite hail of bullets. She had to fire now!

And yet, the van before them sped on, farther and farther into the horizon towards those beams of searchlights that pierced through the black clouds above. It slithered down through more hairpin turns until it reached the secluded villa perched at the edge of this cliff full of searchlights. From the top of the mountainside roads, by the mouth of the hairpin turns, Texas parked the van. Pursuing them was suicide, especially with how much firepower was concentrated by the frontside. All that was left to do was say goodbye to the convoy that slipped into the compound.

Underneath a lonesome overhead light, Texas planted her head against the wheel.

“Texas.” Exusiai spoke, finding what exactly to ask. “... What now?”

Only the pitter-patter of rain answered her.

Even if she wanted to cheer her up, was now the time for any reconciliation?

Exusiai hoisted herself off her seat and jumped to the back.

Silence’s drone hummed, tending to Bison and Croissant who were painted with splashes of blood. They coughed out, almost tearing their throats with it. Who could blame them? Swallowing so much smog whilst bunkering down against the barrage of bullets before shredded through their vigour. Silence rested Bison by her lap, letting him sip on one of her concoctions bit by bit.

Mostima and Sora leaned against the inner hull of the van, the former staring at the ceilings while the latter burying her face into her arms and legs. Emperor sat between them, patting their backs.

“You alright?” Mostima smirked at Exusiai. “You’ve seen better days.”

“I have.” Some light-hearted banter was enough for this Sankta to restore a smile. A weak one, but it was enough to lift her mood.

Lappland disengaged the rear shutters’ lock, flung it open and jumped out. She shrieked out, cursing at Schiavo and, more importantly, herself. “Why?!” She banged her fists against a nearby tree, splinters digging into her knuckles as she chipped off its bark, “Why?! What have we done wrong?! Why couldn’t I save him?! Why—”

Exusiai caught her by the arm.

Greeting her was the snarl, the moonlit glare, of a wolf ready to bite off someone’s throat.

“What do you want?” Lappland growled.

“It’s not your fault.” Exusiai shot back, eyes steeled and locked onto hers. “Let it be.”

Lappland had more than enough strength to snap out of her grasp and continue pummeling the tree. She knew this, but she still clung onto Lappland's sleeves.

“Let it be? What the fuck are you on?!” She snapped out of her grasp but let her fists glide down to her side. “Doctor was captured! Schiavo has him! What else do we have now?!”

Exusiai’s mouth was agape, trying to utter out an answer, but she was nothing close to a reply. Lappland scoffed at her before leaning against the roadside railings nearby underneath the tree she punched and running her hands against her ruffled hair. With that, the Sankta joined her by her side and basked in the view before them.

Before them, underneath the pelting rain, the moon peeked through the thick black curtains. Its shimmering light was swallowed by the rainclouds, but peeped through here and there. Its full, snowy shine glitter throughout the fringes and estuaries stretched out further down the mountains. Trying to find another angle of infiltrating the compound was almost impossible, at least from this vantage point. Unless anyone here had mountain gear to trek up the steep slope, the only way in was the front yard. Thinking of busting through old Penguin Logistics style was enough for her torn bicep to ache in her makeshift arm sling.

Snatching her attention away was Lappland banging against the roadside railing. “Damn it…”

“Hey…” Exusiai patted her on the back.

Lappland pushed her arm away. “What?”

Something was poisoning Lappland. She saw it all: Quivering eyes, scratched fingers digging into her overcoat, ruffled hair curtaining away her face… Where was that signature blood-lusted gusto? Where was that twisted sense of justice that guided her blades? Her fangs? Her rage? Where was it all hiding? If only she was a Sankta too, so it would be easier for Exusiai to read her.

Someone wanting to comfort, let alone sympathise, Lappland? A first for anything, really. Anyone else would either distance themselves away, or begrudgingly be with her. And yet, that shred of fear that was terrorising Lappland within was more than enough reason for Exusiai to be there for her. Was it fear? No; Lappland dances with death every other day.

“Don’t beat yourself up too much.” Exusiai spoke. Even if she did not know the answer, she was going to try.

Lappland tsk’ed at her.

Exusiai went on, “Look. I blame myself for letting them have Doctor too. If only I had more magazines, or that stray bullet didn’t tear through my bicep, or if I was able to protect Doctor more selfishly, then maybe we won’t be in this rut; I would have bursted their tires and they’d have skidded and crashed, ending this whole goose chase. We did what we could, and it wasn’t enough. No shame in that. It’s no one’s fault…”

A scowl replied back.

“... And yet, I still believe that we can charge right in and rescue Doctor, exactly like how we’ve always been doing it all this while through our operations. It’s not the end yet.”

“Get to the point.” Lappland growled.

“My point is the principle I’ve always pitched to him every time he fails a simulation. We both know how Doctor, despite his goofy and carefree nature, is a perfectionist who plans out every single step in an operation. And yet, life taught the both of us that a perfect plan never exists. ‘Even a well-crafted gun jams sometimes. Life is no different.’ That, alone, is enough to take the edge off sometimes in shitty situations.”

“And patronising me with some sappy speech will change anything?” Lappland replied.

“Not trying to patronise you or anything.” Exusiai’s smile beamed brighter, “Trying to cheer you up.”

Lappland scoffed at hearing that. “Listen. I’m biting down my tongue just because you’re one of Texas’s buddies, but drop the act. I’m in no mood to entertain you.”

“You’re better off listening to her, Lappland.” Texas trudged from the van and backed up Exusiai. “It’ll do some good for you.”

“As if some revelation alone shall strike down our adversaries. Look down there,” She pointed at the fortress. “After our little stunt back in the Golden Goose, they upped the ante. More guns, more sheep to the slaughter, more of everything. Unless we have a death wish, there’s nothing we could do…” That alone was enough for her eye to twitch.

“And you’re terrified?” Texas shot back.

“Why wouldn’t I?!”

“You always rush headfirst into the battlefield—”

“That’s because we had Doctor! His commands are the muse that moved my feet to the massacre; I am nothing more than an instrument of war, him nothing more than the hand that ushers me forth!” She threw her arms wide open. “He’s the messiah who salvaged what’s left of my miserable life! And now?! He’s in the claws of that bastard! That bastard! That traitorous bastard that slaughtered my entire famil—”

Texas slapped her across her face.

“How dare you…” Lappland croaked out.

“And you faulted Exusiai for patronising you with her monologue.”

“I don’t see you hatching up a plan. If anything, you seemed unphased by it all, as if you don’t care about Doctor at all!”

They both were about to rip each other’s necks.

“Hey, hey, hey!’ Before the bloodbath began, Exusiai squeezed herself between them and wrapped her arms around their necks. “Chill! Both of you have your points. We can’t leave Doctor behind, but we can’t exactly charge right in. We need a plan. Tonight, we are our own commanders! Our pseudo-Doctor!”

“Aren’t you three getting acquainted.” Mostima ambled towards them from the van. “What’s the plan, then?”

Sora and the rest of the cast peeked out of the van.

Exusiai continued, “Lappland’s right. Charging right in by the front is suicide, and unless anyone of us can fly, we’re not going through the sides or back…”

She noticed some nearby greenery to hide in. Sure, there was a stretch of distance between the gates and the forestry, and in between was heavy resistance. Bison and Croissant were tuckered out tonight, and Silence could not ignore them. Everyone else was in play.

Her halo beamed out like a light bulb.

“I have a plan.”

Before her were the stars of the play.

“It’s not foolproof, but I need you both to trust me in this.”

With that, they huddled together and discussed what to do.

—

How long was he out?

No idea.

But Doctor learnt that sleeping on the back of a van was terrible.

Pounding him awake was his aching back, a splitting headache, limbs that were pricked with pins and needles scooping into his flesh. Jolting back awake, he wiggled to get some blood running, but found himself strapped down. Leather belts bound him by the wrists and ankles.

“Finally awake, Signore?”

That voice.

Doctor tried to shimmy off the straps harder, but alas.

Snatching away the black sack covering Doctor’s head, Stefano greeted him as he did back in the casino. “Slept well?”

Doctor’s eyes fluttered around, orienting himself back. Pulsating lights, polished walnut bartop, beer taps… Was he in a taproom? Blacking-out gangsters hugging cobblestone walls, empty pints and one huge pink neon light beaming out ‘Stefano’s’ confirmed this.

“How lovely to see you again after you burnt down my casino.” Schiavo snarled beside Stefano, venom laced in every word. “Had fun?”

“Plenty. If one pinky finger costed you the casino, what’s my middle finger worth to you?”

Schiavo clicked his fingers.

Stefano, on cue, slammed Doctor’s head against the bartop.

Doctor groaned as he sat back up straight, his brain still rattling in his skull, “... I hope we’re not playing cards again. I like my fingers.”

“Still as cheeky! Lovely to see those balls of yours, Signore.” Stefano chuckled before pouring out a pint of beer from the tap. “Don’t worry about your fingers for tonight. We’ll be playing a different game, but the rules still apply. Tell me, Doctor. Do you like drinking games?”

Stefano’s eyes glowed purple once again.

“Here we go.” Doctor sighed.

He pushed the pint of beer before Doctor, left that side of the bar and stood behind him. Clasping him by the shoulders, he nodded for Schiavo to join in the festivity. Feeling this leering stare was enough for Doctor to sweat bullets.

“First question.” Schiavo cracked his knuckles. “Where are the two Lupos?”

“I wish I knew. You kidnapped me before I even had a chance to say goodbye.”

Schiavo eyed Stefano, and after a moment, he nodded. “Next question: What’s your game plan, charging around the Lungmen Slums like a headless chicken?”

“Thought it was obvious. We’re trying to find you, so we could end this trifle already.”

“A tactician like you would not risk his neck out like that without contingency plans or outside help, which means you had insider info. Who ratted me out?”

“No one.”

Perplexed, but Schiavo had to accept it; Stefano nodded at him, clearing any doubts.

“Satellites? Frequency-tapping? Word-of-mouth? How would you manage to find me?”

Coming clean and sharing with them about his Priestess scans was giving too much. Knowing what tomorrow brings is enough to assure today’s victory, and that was information to kill for. And to think of letting Schiavo leverage it?

“Hiding something?” Schiavo noted the silence. “Spill it. I won’t repeat my question.”

“Signore.” Stefano whispered into his ear, “Last chance.”

What were the chances of his team crashing through the front door and rescuing him? What were the chances of them even surviving a frontal assault by the front yard? As if that sort of information was important right now. He was no action-film superstar that could snap his shackles to two, gun down all the mafioso around and burst down the gates to freedom. How, then, would his team recuperate, and how long would it take? Flashbacks of the joyride through the slums spelt out to him that they were in no condition to rescue him for the night, which meant that tonight’s company were with the sharks before him. Would he want to spill everything out and make it easy for him? Anytime now, they would burst down the front door and save him. Anytime now…

He bit the bullet and shook his head. He was already hating himself for what’s to come. “What’s there to hide? I’ve been honest so far.”

“Loosen him up, Stefano.” Schiavo commanded before pouring himself some whisky.

“Shame. And I thought we didn’t need to resort to this.” Stefano raised a glass and toasted to all the mafioso who were spectating. “Cheers!”

Pint glasses clinked.

Hailing merry thundered.

A rugged towel pressed against Doctor’s face.

And then, a golden downpour upon him. It flooded his nostrils, his eyes, his mouth, any orifice wide open. Doctor thrashed to and fro. He could not gulp fast enough. He could not spit. He could not stop it. He could not even cry out for mercy. His fingers clawed against the leather straps. He cocked his head back and forth. He tried to topple himself away. Nothing was saving him from this dreadful minute. His nostrils burnt. His lungs were failing. He gagged and gargled, but nothing was enough to extinguish the fire razing through his body.

He was drowning.

Someone.

Please.

Save him.

Before his lungs collapse, or his nostrils tore through, someone take him away!

Texas, he cried out, Texas, please…

Before long, the wet towel was tossed aside on the bartop. Stefano pushed him forward and patted him on the back, letting him puke out as much as he could. Pungent stench of vomit coated his coat and dribbled by the side of his mouth.

“Fun fact, Signore!” Stefano chirped out, “Chances of contracting pneumonia during waterboarding are significantly higher when using any other liquid that isn’t clean, distilled water. We don’t want you to drown on us now, though, which is why we have medical professionals on standby. However, keep up the tough act and…”

Schiavo passed him two bottles. Neither of them were beer. One was Sake and the other was Soju. Upping the alcohol percentage was enough for Doctor to puke out even more.

“... We’d have to resort to heavier drinks.” Stefano swiped off the dribble of vomit with his handkerchief, before addressing Schiavo to continue on.

“You feel like talking now, Doctor?” Schiavo gulped down his shot of whisky.

“... Classified information.” Doctor regurgitated his answer. “I can’t… I can’t tell you.”

“Don’t force my hand again.” Schiavo banged against the bartop. “Ask any of my boys, and they’d tell you I’m the kindest person they know. Listen to me and believe me when I say that I want to help the both of us. I don’t want to torture you for information, but you’re leaving me with no other options here. Consider yourself lucky! Any other two-bit mobster would pummel you to a pulp by now. Not me. I’m a class-act. Help me help you, and I’ll let you walk home.”

“You don’t get it.” Doctor’s weary eyes met his. “Whatever information I have is enough to stop me from walking home.”

“Pray tell, ‘cause I’m all ears!” Schiavo growled. “How would you manage to find me?”

Becoming a teetotaler sounded like a lovely idea after tonight, Doctor assured himself. Quit drinking for good, sober up, get his act together… Doctor hung his head. “If I answer you, will you unstrap me and stop with the waterboarding idea right here and now?”

“No.”

“All I can say then, as how you’d say it back in Siracusa, is vaffanculo (go fuck yourself).”

“Disappointing.” Schiavo waved at Stefano.

“Should have spilt it, Signore.” That pungent damp towel was plastered on Doctor’s face once again. Bottle caps rolled on the countertop until it crashed down to the floor beneath. “Sake or Soju first?”

“Wait.” Doctor bit down on the damp towel, flung it to the side and spoke to Schiavo. “I have a proposition.”

Schiavo poured himself another shot of whisky with his back facing him. “My patience ran out, Doctor. You had your chance. Go ahead, Stefano—”

“Your younger sister. I can treat her condition.”

Schiavo stopped. Still not facing him, he asked, “How did you learn that?”

“The night when I barged into your office, medical invoices and bills were scattered on your table of her condition. Was it Grade 3 Originium Infection? Run through my memory again.”

“It is none of your business.”

“Rhodes Island is, beyond its reputation of acquiring mercenaries from all walks of life, a pharmaceutical company. We have cutting-edge technology that can negate any Originium Infection progress, if not cure it. For someone who reads into current affairs, I’m sure you know that.” Schiavo was still frozen, but he did not finish pouring his shot, nor issued the command to continue the waterboarding treatment. That was enough for Doctor to work on, “As someone who prides himself of his hospitality and kindness, here’s my proposition: Let me walk, and I’ll contact Rhodes Island to treat your younger sister.”

“... And what would the two Lupos think of that?”

“Whatever conflict between us remains, but your younger sister shouldn’t pay for our sins. You have my word that she gets the treatment she needs.”

Schiavo’s shoulders loosened. His eyes blinked for a bit. A twinkle of tear was swept away from his eyelids. “... And you think I’ll let you walk away as if nothing happened?”

He gulped his whisky shot and flung the empty shot glass straight at Doctor. Breaking his nose, all the wafting stenches of beer through his airways spiked up and tore through his nose. Streams of blood trickled down. Doctor snorted out his blood and groaned.

“You burnt down my casino. You burnt down so many of my men who had families to feed. You burnt down every single bridge I extended out for the both of us to discuss and negotiate the terms. And now, you expect me to not be wary of your intentions?” Schiavo opened a drawer and shuffled through the tools within. Contents within were emptied out: Cocktail shakers, strainers, corkscrews…

Schiavo fished out a bottle opener.

Stefano returned the Sake and Soju bottles onto the bartop, unstrapped one of Doctor’s wrist and pinned his arm down. Schiavo wedged the bottle opener underneath Doctor’s nail. Doctor began hyperventilating, his fingers trembling.

“Question: Were you honest with your little sales pitch, or were you trying to pull a fast one on me?”

“Regarding any Originium Infection treatment, my promise is gold! Nothing less than the truth itself.”

Stefano nodded at Schiavo, confirming it as such.

“Next question, and don’t hesitate now because now, I’m fucking pissed off: Do you really think you can save my little sister?”

“Absolutely.”

Stefano, again, nodded.

“I’ll trust your word and reconsider our terms after you answer the million dollar question! What are you hiding? What helped you track me down? How would you manage to find me on this goddamn night?!”

“... Is it too late to go back for waterboarding—”

Pop, went his index finger nail.

Fires beyond a million degrees seared through his flesh. Worse than any bone fracture or flesh peeling, it was as if salt was rubbing, boiling his finger alive. Roaring out, Doctor rocked his chair back and forth. Stefano pinned him down harder, especially now with Doctor’s chair wobbling, almost about to slip.

“What...”

Schiavo wedged the bottle opener onto the next finger.

“... Are...”

A bit of pressure widened the gap between the nail and the finger, ready to pop it out like a cork.

“... You...”

Stefano steadied Doctor. Even so, everything around Doctor was spinning and blurring out.

“... Hiding?”

“Eyes…” He muttered out.

“Eyes?”

“Eyes… Of Priestess.”

The entire world crackled white. Lightning storms shocked the entire taproom, until all he could see was pink and white, pulsating back and forth, booming and drowning out all his senses. Nothing more existed beyond him for this split second beyond tattered silhouettes of the patrons around him and his torturers. He heard loud muffled shouts, too inaudible to decipher whatever they were spewing out. It was perfect for him. Silence. Complete white noise. He could not take it anymore.

And just like that, he short-circuited himself.

His body fell limp.

His vision returned back to the taproom, albeit fading away to the darkness. Those aforementioned medical professionals hovered with syringes and whatever wires they had, but it was too late. Doctor was about to have a nice little nap. His only moment of respite amongst this hell. It was too late for them now.

For now, anyways.

Chapter Text

“Tricky little rat!”

Schiavo hoisted Doctor’s lifeless corpse by the collars. Give him a sign. Anything to spell out this was a ruse. A twitch by his eyelids, an abrupt rhythm in his breathing, a stupid smile to crease by the edges of his mouth… Anything to give him a reason to pummel him awake.

“Boss.” Stefano spoke, “Take it easy.”

“This close!” Schiavo shoved Doctor’s head down against the bartop. “This close, for whatever this rat was hiding, and he offs himself!” A click of his fingers, and his crew stood to attention. “Car batteries, adrenaline shots, whatever that will shock this motherfucker awake. We will not, and I stress it out, we will not let him rest again until we iron out every single answer from him.” They were still standing around. “Are you all deaf?! Go!”

His men scattered to the inner sections of the compound, leaving him and Stefano alone. He ruffled his hair and groaned out as he sank into his seat.

“Relax, boss.” Stefano began massaging his shoulders. “The more stressed you are, the uglier you get.”

“Stefano.”

“Give Signore some time to come around, boss. We have plenty of time to play with him, so for now, kick back and relax.”

Whilst grunting, Schiavo poured Stefano a shot of whisky, to which Stefano thanked him for. “... Serve me your signature.”

“Got it.” Stefano retreated to brew.

‘Eyes of Priestess.’ What was it? What kind of technology or Arts was that? It couldn’t be some technological device or gadget in his pockets; His boys frisked him. His Arts? It can’t be. Triggering one’s Arts needed a catalyst and it was unheard of for anyone to conjure it up out of thin air. An implant, then? Now, that might be enticing but on second thought, why would anyone implant something to play possum? Cybernetic augmentations is still a new field to tamper with, and to invest in a self-knockout shock? Schiavo groaned at himself. He was grasping at straws at this point. If it was indeed Doctor’s Arts, then colour him impressed.

If only he could ask him, but his prey was busy snoring away next to him.

Schiavo’s eyes studied him, trying to craft a character profile for him. The more he delved into him, the more questions he got.

How old was he, exactly? Eyebags and crow’s feet betrayed his fair complexion. If he had to make a guess, he should be about Texas’s age. What race was he? Ah, yes, the million-dollar question that had piqued his interests ever since their first encounter. No tail, no horns, no fluffy ears, no fangs, nothing at all to denote a race. He had a hunch on what race he was, but the possibility was, or at least should be, zero. His kind of race was meant to be extinct centuries ago, back when Terra was paradoxically both civilised and conflicted, a simpler time. Would he know of such an era? Probably not.

What was he like in his past? Was he always this tactical yet reckless, or was he more strategic and precise? Glimmering against the empty lowball glass was Schiavo’s reflection himself. It hurt, to see the wrinkles digging into his face with each passing day. He’s not a young man anymore.

Had he lived a good life, a life full of adventure?

Of course, with how many women he had bedded with, how much he had evaded from the law, how much blood he had spilt. He would be, what they’d call in Siracusa, the Casanova whom young lads wished to be.

And yet, reminiscing his golden days until he found himself back on Siracusa streets, Soffa twirled and glistened against that beautiful morning sunrise.

Had he lived a fulfilled life?

His fingers clenched against his glass.

How much more time did he have? So melodramatic of him, he had to confess, but with his line of work? No one knew. One day, the lights will go out for him, and by then, will Soffia be okay?

What he would do to give Soffia back her life.

Would that mean he’d accept Doctor’s proposition of treating her?

Why wouldn’t he accept?

Doctor was his bargaining chip in any further negotiation, and Schiavo was strapped for options, with money trickling in and medical bills ramping up in prices. That alone was more than enough for him, but this mirage had problems. Soffa herself could be kept hostage by Rhodes Island, especially in the hands of Texas and Lappland. He had to be scheming, especially since he knew his weak spot; To weasel himself out, he’d promise anything. But the alternative was grim enough. To starve Soffia from seeking help just because he might lose her?

“What are you planning, exactly?” Schiavo whispered to this slumbering log, who razed his casino with only a three-man squad, promised him an almost implausible treatment, a treatment that no other hospital in Lungmen could offer, and short-circuited himself. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

Not a single answer.

“How is it that in such violence, you sleep soundly?”

Again, nothing.

“Had one too many drinks, boss?” Stefano teased him, shaking his cocktail shakers hard. “You do know he’s sleeping, right?”

“You’ll be sleeping with him if you keep it up.”

“Just busting your balls, boss.” Stefano chuckled at the flustered Schiavo, broke up his Boston shakers, poured his drink smoothly and sat in a perfect sphere of ice. Schiavo thanked him and sipped in. Bitter by the sip, but smooth and savoury by the aftertaste. “Thinking about the old days?”

“Aye, you too?”

“Every day.”

“Same. I miss those days when we were nothing more than made men living our best lives. You think we can go back to simpler times?” Even with Stefano smirking, this twisting feeling of nostalgia pained them both.

“We’re getting old, boss, and nothing will change that fact.” Stefano replied, “But it’s not too bad. Once it’s all done and dusted, we’ll have something to smile about over some drinks.”

“That is, if we don’t die by then.”

“Aye, boss. Cheers to that?”

They clinked their glasses before taking a swig for the old times.

Doctor intruded in the conversation with his snoring, and a passing thought crossed Schiavo. Maybe, just maybe, in another timeline, they weren’t enemies trying to slit each other’s throat. Now, what was the point in daydreaming what-ifs? Who knows, but Schiavo scoffed at his cynicism. Sometimes, the heart wonders and wanders into dreams that will forevermore remain as dreams, but it’s not too bad of an experience. He was a free spirit. All Siracusans are. Rugged, rough and, most importantly, free.

Maybe in that distant timeline, a timeline where they were freer, they were friends.

Maybe, Soffia was with them, souring up with every bitter sip of alcohol.

Maybe, Schiavo didn’t need to worry about Talulah or the two vengeful Lupos. They needed not fight, and instead be about their separate ways.

Maybe.

Now?

A thug rushed out from the elevator and, panting, bowed before Schiavo. “Boss. Texas… She’s here, by the front.”

So much for blissful daydreams. He groaned out, bidding farewell to this fleeting moment. “Let her in.”

—

“Trust the plan, Texas.”

Each shuffling step towards the lion’s den chimed Exusiai’s words louder.

“Don’t die on me now.”

Lappland’s giggle twinkled with the van’s keys dangling in the ignition.

“Please.”

Texas replied before her descent.

“Not until we settle our grudge match.”

And for once, they shared a smile like the old days on those meadows.

With that, the van sped off elsewhere along the mountainpasses. Time was of the essence. For even a shred of a fighting chance, the cast needed to restock. If only someone else would relieve Texas from the role of the scapegoat.

Searchlights glared at her where she stood by the front yard. Rugged thugs rushed out under the drizzle and the peeking moonlight. All types of rifles were aiming down at her, waiting for a reason to open fire. Dogs by the front yard barked at her, tugging against their owners’ chains. Surrendering herself, she raised both hands and let them pat her down. Much to their disappointment, nothing incriminating was found besides an inconspicuous bottle of perfume. They rang up Schiavo and, at his command, escorted her in.

“You have a lot of guts walking in like this.” One of the henchmen commented.

“More than you’ll ever have.”

Whatever glare the henchman shot, it paled to Texas’s.

As the elevator rose up, something rang in her ears. Not sharp like a screech, nor clamouring like a bang, but more so something soft and muffled. The deeper she ventured into the compound, the more muffled everything became. Not muffled enough to drown out everything, but enough to worm into her ear, this soft ringing. She shrugged it off.

*Ding*.

The elevator doors swung wide open and before her was a cosy lounge, akin to a bar away from the city: A bar with Stefano’s name in neon lights, a section of the huge room repurposed to be a leisure corner, something akin to a grand living room with lush sofas and chairs by the fireplace on the type of carpets she could brush her toes on… Lying right by the sofa, amongst a few other of the henchmen, was a passed-out Doctor. Some of the thugs sunk into their seats, elbowing each other to stay awake against their drunk spell. Some other thugs were perched on the upper floor against the railings, peering down with their rifles readied.

"If it isn't the bastard's daughter." Schiavo, leaning against the bartop, bellowed, "After all these years, and yet not a single bit of you has changed. You’re still nothing more than the brat I had to kowtow to."

How long would it take to slice all their throats? At most, a minute, but with consequences haunting. Some bruises, some bullet holes, possible risk of death… Worst part? It wasn’t just her life she was gambling with in a rushdown; Doctor’s life was on the line too. And yet, seeing this bastard face-to-face, after all this while, was enough for her fingers to twitch. She visualised her blades materialising, but nothing more than tiny sparks glimmered in the air like fading embers.

Schiavo patted the side of his ear with a finger. “If you were wondering what’s with the muffled murmuring, you can blame FNSH-I. Any Arts you wish to conjure up? Forget about it. It’s a nuisance, though. It’s still a prototype, which means me and the boys are annoyed too.” One click of his fingers, and everyone aimed down their firearm. "Don't even bother trying for some close quarter combat shenanigans. Now, tell me exactly why I should not rain down hell on you."

"Because you still wish to learn about my Family's Arts."