MISSION: The Dissolution of Drachma and RIOTE's Rebirth

"Stay with Shula," Spade said to Acra as they walked up the ramp and into the aircraft's closing doors. It was practically off the ground before they even got on the damn thing! He shoved his aviators down his nose slightly and eyed Acra over the rim with cool, green eyes. "If anything happens to her..." he paused, gauging his own emotions and trying to get a lasso around them, "you'll lose more than your job." Wait, that kind of sounded like a threat... Spade pushed his sunglasses back up with a hearty laugh, smacking the guy on the back for good measure. "Just kidding man." Eeeeescape time. He turned the corner and caught up with the two girls in the main control room, slinging his arms around them and smelling like musky cologne, smoke, and booze all at once. Nothing new there. A crooked smile formed habitually on his lips. "And here I thought you two were talking about bra sizes." What? It couldn't always be serious. This was war and war was pretty damn funny in political cartoons in the newspaper!

Spade shifted away from them, shooting a glance back at Acra and then...Takumi, was it, coming up behind him. He threw his sunglasses on top of his head, whipped his hair into a high pony tails, cracked his knuckles and hunkered down in one of the foldy chairs. God, couldn't they at least have gotten cushioned ones? It was like negative two or some shit... He heaved a sigh and then met Csilla's eyes, his own glazed over with the authority of a military general. It was clear in the single look that the man was getting more serious the closer they got to Drachma. "Csilla, love, Shula is not your boss; I am. In the future, I ask that you do not blur the boundaries between job clarifications." He sighed and leaned back lazily in the chair. "South City and Central are going to be closely tied..." he shot Shula a glance and refocused on the blond babe. "That is precisely why I ask that you report to the correct person. We cannot have any confusion, hm?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and then tucked a stray strand of wavy brown hair out of his face and into the hair tie. "I already have an idea for you. How would you...like to meet the King of Creta?"

Though it was entirely too dark to see the ground below them, Shula could look out the window from the airship and look up. Many of the soldiers were resting while they could, but Shula was beyond sleep, unable to rest or stop going over her notes and the contingent battle strategy. After changing ships at Briggs one fleet would head straight into Moscow while the other would meet up to regroup and meet up with other military heads. Going back into battle... really wasn't sitting well with Shula. Her body was at more than 100% now and immune to anything chemical, so at least the cold wouldn't make her sick... But bullets were still a pretty big threat. Shula quietly excused herself from her seat after relaying orders to Takumi, hating that they were a few thousand feet up and she couldn't go for a walk to clear her mind, or go get some fresh air.

With the grace that only years of dancing could bring, Shula walked through the ship, moving between tense soldiers silently and almost entirely unnoticed as she moved toward the nearest window. She pressed herself as close to the glass as she could, looking out around them. Why couldn't they stay up there? The war was down there, not up here.. Up here it was nice, and quiet, and still. Her eyes widened slightly, transfixed as they looked out in to the endless sea of black and silver. She'd never seen the stars so bright before. Central was too full of lights and pollution to see them well, and at South they were bright for now... But now there still weren't many buildings finished. It was like when she was little in Meissan, and how she wished she could grow wings to fly up and touch one... Of course she knew they weren't something that could be touched, even if they were closer. But she'd seen Moissanite before, and how it shined... Such a rare material, cut from real stars.

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"HOLYMOTHEROFISHVAL!!" As the cold air hit Shula, she gasped and pulled her coat tighter around her body, dearly missing the beautiful red coat she's lost to the destruction. Such a beautiful red, wool, and so damn warm. Right now she had a miltary overcoat that had a bit of stuffing in it, but she was fairly certain she'd be a bloody Shu-cicle by morning, especially if it was just going to be even colder in Drachma. There was a blur of movement, outrunning the packs of soldiers emerging one ship and going to the second ship. The white, brown and blue streak of light zipped through, causing a wake of cold air behind its movement as it made a bee-line for the ship at something akin to warp speed, rushing to get out of the cold.

There was a brief moment as she'd emerged that she'd heard Acra laugh and challenge her to a snowball fight... But the sudden cold had negated any witty comebacks. She knew she was assigned to this ship and where it was heading... but more information was always good, so she shrugged the cold from her shoulders and walked to the control room as the other soldiers boarded. It was almost no time before they were airborn again, Shula's notebook in one hand, the other holding the large muff of a pair of headphones to her ear. The tech at the chair in front of her sat patiently, waiting for her to finish listening to the updates and confirmation codes. A faint, pleased and almost relieved smile ghosted her lips. At least there was a little good news. Help was coming in the form of Cretan guards... Not a lot, and she was a little uncertain about what terms and conditions their help might have come with considering their recent fight with them, but at this point they needed all the help they could get.

Slowly she put the headphones down and gave them back with a soft word of thanks to the boy at the controls as she went back to sit in one of the folding chairs, pulling her pen from her pocket to update her notes. She was completely engrossed in her thoughts as they grew closer to Drachma, Shula not noticing she wasn't alone until she felt her arm tugged on by Csilla. “Shula, problem. And clearly Spade is letting you run this thing right now...” Csilla stood close to her body and her voice was hushed, not wanting to be overheard. Shula looked mildly uncomfortable at the observation. “Battles and I do not really cooperate. I need to get set up a smaller mission. Spade usually sets me up automatically with something. But... Think we can pull something together?”

She drew in a little breath, keeping close to Csilla and picking up her notebook, her voice equally soft and rather timid. Well... I'm not running this, really. Spade's got it all under control and I'm just relaying information right now." Which certainly wasn't a lie, even though Spade had seemed not quite himself the whole way there.. but that was likely nerves... "But I totally know what you mean. If I could not go into it I wouldn't ever again. But as for orders for you outside of the conflict? Umm..." She scanned her notes. Ms. Furor was bringing in help, along with the Cretan forces she'd been told about. But as to where Csilla could go? "I'm not sure just yet, but I'm sure we can find something. We're going to be making a pit stop befo-YAH!"

Shula let out a small yelp and jumped as Spade came into the control room and put his arms around both girls, the musky-spiced smell of his cologne mixed with layers of cigarette smoke and whiskey on his breath. "And here I thought you two were talking about bra sizes." Aw, crud. Shula really needed to find an alchemy for telepathy or something. He pulled away and sat down, the control room now joined by Acra and Takumi. So much for having a private chat. "Csilla, love, Shula is not your boss; I am. In the future, I ask that you do not blur the boundaries between job clarifications. South City and Central are going to be closely tied..." The tone of his voice showed Spade wasn't in the mood, and the glance he shot Shula made her stomach knot slightly with that "puppy did bad" feeling. Craaaaap. Shula's hand instinctively found Csilla's and pulled it behind her slightly, not even realizing it, and gave her a firm squeeze as she gave Spade a rather apologetic look. "That is precisely why I ask that you report to the correct person. We cannot have any confusion, hm?"

"Sorry, Boss. I was getting intel updates and she was just asking to clarify on orders since I was in here. That's all." She wasn't trying to cause problems, and furthermore didn't want Csilla in trouble for trying to find out her own orders. Shula was apologetic, but didn't look away from Spade as she squeezed Csilla's hand again, rubbing her thumb against it. They were all tired. None of them wanted to be here. None of them wanted this war. But problems between them would just make it worse later on. ""I already have an idea for you. How would you...like to meet the King of Creta?" So he did have orders for Csilla. Shula looked to Csilla, waiting to see if her friend would take them or not; being a babysitter was surely safer than the front.

A strange light shimmered in the darkness, wavering like a flame to the breeze. A figure stood there, staring at this oddity, as it had for many years. Yet the light did not bring happiness, it did not bring warmth. No, it only brought sadness and cold. On and on this light burned, always watchful, always ready. It waited for its warmth to return, it's true happiness. But with each passing day, this flame began to dim, and even the constant company of the dark figure beyond its reach was never enough. This figure could not bring the light happiness or warmth, and the figure was sad. Finally, the figure moved towards the flame, stepping into its light. The figure looked into this eternal flame, and instead of seeing fire and ash, she saw only herself as if a mirror had been thrust before her. There in the mirror was Lillian Mae Black, a lost and wondering soul...

Lily jumped from her sleep, the same nightmare awaking her once again. It had been like this for weeks now, and only seemed to get worse with each time she slept. The young woman took a deep breathe, feeling the smoke and cold air fill her lungs. She coughed lightly, standing up from her position of leaning on the wall. That was where she had slept for the last few hours, not the best place but it accomplished the job of getting some rest. Black yawned and stretched, walking across the room to the window to look outside. It had gotten worse since she had fallen asleep. Fires were spread all across the city of Moscow, smoke filling the air like a dark poison against the white filled sky. Artillery barrages were hitting strategic areas all across the city, most likely Amestrian she figured. When she had fallen asleep, there had been only a few firefights here and there between the loyalists and the rebels. She knew Amestris and/or Creta would show up eventually to take control of the situation, but she didn't think it would be so soon. Fighting seemed to be taking place all across the city, the whole place one big war zone. Lillian felt bad for the innocent men, women, and children in the city who hadn't run during the rebellions. For now, the city of Moscow, Drachma was Hell on earth. As she looked to horizon, she saw the sun falling, almost touching the tops of the distant mountains. Night would fall soon, and she knew the fighting would only get worse...

Lily shook her head and turned around, walking back across the room to her things. She threw her backpack on, holstering the two Desert Eagles after checking their ammo. Though she hadn't used any bullets thus far, it had become a force of habit to check. Last but not least, Mae grabbed 'Reaper,' her trusty war scythe. As if it were a cane or a walking stick, she pushed the door in front of her open and walked down the hall. She had chosen an abandoned apartment complex in the southern section of the city as her resting place that afternoon. It wasn't too pretty, as it had obviously been left unattended a long time ago, but it worked for what she needed. Lily turned the corner into the lobby and made her way towards the front doors. Suddenly, a huge explosion rocked the building and knocked her off her feet. She caught herself and jumped back up, standing in a battle ready stance. After a few moments of silence, she lowered her scythe and stood up fully. Must have been a stray artillery shell or missile. Though she was no veteran, she still knew that things like that did happen during war. Taking a brisk pace, not wanting to be there anymore, she burst through the front doors and stepped out into the snow covered streets. There had been relatively little fighting in this area earlier, and by the looks of it that hadn't changed.

As she walked down the snow covered street, she heard another explosion nearby. Sounded like a missile, tube-launched most likely. Then she remembered that there was a military comm station nearby, which somewhat explained the noises she started hearing. Intense gun chatter and missile explosions proved that someone had been wise enough to attack the Drachmans comm systems. Smart, very smart. SWOOSH! Lily ducked and looked up at the same time to see two aircraft, both of which were of some extremely advanced design. The two craft were in the middle of a dogfight, and both seemed to be evenly matched. One had just flown over her, and the flag painted on its side made Lillian twitch. Creta had joined the fight? That was unexpected to say the least, she thought Amestris and maybe Xing, but Creta? This was odd indeed, and she'd have to investigate later. Until then, she needed to find Jet. He would be here, she just had a feeling. She couldn't explain it, there was just this strange feeling she had that told her he would be, and that he was close. Call it sibling connection. Whatever it was it didn't matter, but it was stronger than ever right now and it was almost giving her a headache. "Jet..."

"Hey you!" a voice shouted down the street. "You need to leave, this place isn't safe. Come with us, we have a camp where you can stay near by." Lily turned quickly, her left hand reaching for a pistol, the other firmly grasping 'Reaper.' She turned to face two Drachman soldiers, though the one who just shouted had a horrible accent. RIOTE perhaps? Either way she didn't care, they wouldn't stop her. "Sorry 'comrades,' but I have a date with destiny," she replied, pulling the pistol and firing it off, the bullet slamming between the eyes of the man who had just been shouting. The other, surprised at her speed and accuracy, was too slow as well. He found a bullet lodged in his brain a millisecond later. She knew anyone nearby would have heard that, and she didn't want to be here when anyone else decided to come investigate. Lily turned and sprinted around the corner, screeching to a halt as a squad of black armor clad warriors stealthily walked down the street. Black armor, it almost looked like... no it couldn't be. Were they the infamous Black Tempalrs, Jet's personal army? They all stopped at the sight of her, weapons at the ready. She held her hands up, showing them she was not hostile. They nodded to one another and moved towards her, setting up a perimeter. The sergeant of the squad walked up to her, his face the only one not concealed by a helmet. "You are a Black Templar right? Led by Jethro Black?" she asked in Amestrian before he could open his mouth. He smiled and nodded, "Yes ma'am, are you ok?"

"I'm fine thank you, but I need you to take me to your C.O. My name is Lillian Mae Black, I'm his little sister," she replied, looking around. She paused for a moment, thinking she had seen a movement in that window. Lily looked at it for a moment, then looked away after determining it had been nothing. The look on his face was that of surprise and confusion. He had never heard of The Fist having a little sister, but at the same time there was a striking resemblance. The sergeant nodded and reached up to activate his comm piece. Before he could however, the loud bang of a gunshot filled the empty street, a hole appearing through the mans head. "Take cover! Man down!" one of the soldiers yelled, the men scrambling with expert tactical precision. She also ran with them, knowing staying out in the open would be suicide. She dragged the body of the fallen sergeant into cover, then pulled her two pistols out. The Angel of Death would fight alongside the Black Temaplars. Out of nowhere, several men in white cloaks and carapace armor jumped out, guns a blazing. Not a single wound was taken from the barrage however, nor were there any casualties. Instead, the response was the bark of the Marines bolters, tearing through most of the enemies in a matter of seconds. Lily brought her pistols to bare, killing at least half a dozen on her own. A noise made Lady Black spin on her heels, pistols at the ready. Standing behind her were three men clad in white, two wielding swords and one with handcuffs. They meant to capture her, that much was obvious. What stood out however was their blatant ignorance of the large black armored warriors slaughtering their fellow soldiers. That meant one thing, they were attacking for one reason and one alone: her. She shrugged this off and holstered her two pistols, acting as if she was giving up. The two men with swords moved forward, arms outstretched to grab her. They never even got close. Lillian drew 'Reaper' from her back with lighting fast speed, slicing the two arms reaching for her clean off. All they could do was scream in response, agony etched into their faces as blood freely flowed from their wounds, staining the pure white snow below. To end their misery, she pulled her pistol out, sending them to their graves with a clean shot between the eyes. Turning to the third and final combatant, she put away the Desert Eagle and raised her war scythe, blood dripping of the razor sharp blade. The mere sight caused the man to fall to his knees, begging for mercy. "Hark, the bell! It tolls for thee..." she said as her blade came down, separating his head from his body. The lifeless form fell the ground with a soft thump, the snow absorbing the fall.

She wiped the blade on the dead men's cloaks, making it clean once more. Putting the weapon on her back, she turned to see the battle over and the Marines victorious. One walked up to her, removing his helmet. His face was gentle, but his eyes were filled with honor and courage. A true warrior, they all were. Definitely worthy of her brothers battle name. "Who were they?" she asked, knowing full well they weren't Drachman. "We don't know ma'am, we've never encountered them before now," he replied, looking with sadness to their fallen sergeant. This man was the acting officer, that much was obvious. "Just before we ran into you, we received orders to fall back to the primary strike force, but lost communication shortly afterwards. We're heading there now, but if you'd like to follow us you may. You can meet with the General when we arrive," he finished, giving finger signals to the men. Each followed orders to the letter, moving as if they weren't in extremely heavy and cumbersome power armor. "Thank you Templar, you honor me with your trust," she replied, bowing her head. Lily looked up at the sky, seeing it darken with every passing moment. Night was falling, and soon they would be taken by darkness and cold. "Brother," she mumbled as the squad moved out. "I'm coming."

"So why we all headed out to Drachma, Furor?" Speaking was a man in his late 40's, a veteran of some previous skirmishes in Drachma, and besides Jay, the most experienced man or woman in the whole Kanama chopper fleet of about five birds. Jay grimaced slightly and explained. "Well, it's like I explained back in Kanama; RIOTE, the guys tore up Amestris and crap, they invaded Drachma, and one of their members, the Homunculus Vanity, called Alena, has assassinated the Czar and taken over. And just so you know, cus I KNOW you will ask, a Homunculus is a reincarnated body by an alchemist. Don't screw with them, screw your guns. Trust me, I've met several of them. Nice guys they all were, but not people to mess around with. Not without a seven nation army to back you up. Anyways, they took over Drachma and they could just as easily take Amestris. So we take them before they take us. But we're low on troops, from the last fight with Creta, so I'm taking you all into combat as minutemen. And I am not going to lie- Half of you will probably die. But let's say RIOTE and Drachma kill everyone else in Amestris and they have one man left between them by the end, and we are all dead, with everyone here back home. Now picture that scenario, except with fifty more soldiers for Amestris. Fifty beats one. So every man counts. That's why. Cus ain't nobody in this world big and bad enough to screw over Amestris!" She grinned as she caused another stir of applause in the back of the carrier helicopter.

Ten men and women, asides from herself, were in the same carrier with her. One would start the description of them with such things as 'Doctors, lawyers, teachers, blahblahblahblah blah.' but that wouldn't be true in this case. A good half of the fifty she gathered out of Kanam were from her part of the town, the rural areas. Twenty-Five people of the minutemen were about as redneck as you could get. Then there were a good number of gangsters, mobsters, killers, thieves, and a handful of honest folk from the rest of Kanama. A good amount of them could operate a weapon; the more criminal of them already had assault rifles and SMGs, while the hillbillies of the group were armed and dangerous with an assortment of rifles, from twelve-gauges to sawn-offs, TP-82s to a Steyr AUG. Jay herself was packing her katana, Uno, her Technostaff, and her father's old rifle, the very one that saved her life nine years before. Those that didn't own firearms, Jay provided them an assortment to choose from. She gave a strictly verbal lesson on gun safety and combat techniques. Unfortunately, there hadn't been time to do a whole lot more. Then, feeling the need to do so, she'd gone ahead and 'borrowed' fifty-one Amestrian uniforms and painstakingly sewed on an insignia- A mighty lion raising his head to the sky, with the Xerxian translation of "Loyal to the Last" above him in an arc. Behind him was the seal of Amestris, and above the insignia, on each shoulder, "Minutemen of Kanama." Both a strategic method of making her troop more intimidating and harder to mistake as the enemy, and as a show of loyalty and bold pride in her country.

As she waited for the ride to end, she recieved a text from her best friend, Alex. Accompany him? She decided to call him back. "Uh... Alex. Don't know if you knew it or not, but I'm kind of in flight to Drachma already. Leading the Kanama Minutemen. Eh, I might be able to find you there? I don't know. I'll try, is all I can say. But the fifty civilians I'm bringing into combat will have to come first. Hope you understand. But there is a back-up chopper in Kanama still. Hitch a ride, and go, man, go! Over and out." She flashed a grin to him that he wouldn't see, but that he could assume. So it seemed they would be working together in this mission? Fun.

Finally, the helicopter landed on Drachman snow, near Moscow. Not IN Moscow, that had potential to be a death sentence should they have ground-based Sledgehammer teams. The very last thing the Minutemen needed was to be in a vehicle when they got their first glimpse of a Sledgehammer. Jay had seen many a time when choppers were blown down with a single missile. Nah, uh. So they landed away from the action. Then, Jay assembled her troops. She stood in the only available stage-space she could find for her final speech before combat. "Before we go into battle on this day, everyone, I want you all to know. Whether we win or lose, live or die, you know why we are doing this. Amestrian pride! Now we are not going to stand by and take this! Drachma was never our best ally, but we had a pact with them, and they now are ruled by our enemy. So instead of letting the enemy catch us on our own turf, we are going to show them that Amestris has so much more nerve than they do, so much that we are taking them on outside of our comfort zone! So know that whatever we do here, we do it for Amestris. FOR AMESTRIS!!"
And a hearty cry rose to the heavens above: "FOR AMESTRIIIIIIIIIIS!!!!"
"ARE WE GOING TO TAKE IT!?"
"WE'RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT!!"
"TO BATTLE!! IN THE NAME OF AMESTRIS, WE STAND FIRM IN DRACHMA TODAY WITH THE MIGHT OF THE LION!! GOOOOO!!" And with a cry of cheering again, the loudest yet, Jay raised her rifle to the sky and cracked out a single shot, the first shot of the Minutemen. And they scattered, charging into battle. By then some enemy soldiers had heard their cheering and had come to investigate. Jay was amazed by the speed with which they were disposed of. She let out a triumphant cry of success, and then ran off, Uno in hand, to find Alex. The Minutemen had arrived...

No orders from the top had arrived yet, and so, Daemon remained hidden in the shadow of the tree he was standing under. No noise had permeated the darkness around him. That calm wouldn't last much longer, however. The cold, silent darkness was interrupted by a loud noise, headed directly toward the Kremlin. As he focused his senses on the sound, he could tell that it was a large motor vehicle, approaching at unnaturally high speeds. Two plausible explanations crossed his mind - an enemy attack or an emergency that was going to be reported to them. Judging by the way the vehicle approached, however, Daemon ruled out the latter option.

Closer...

Closer...

Daemon moved away from the building as soon as he could, narrowly avoiding the flying debris that resulted from the impact. Bullets began to fly, and Daemon approached the crashing site of the vehicle, as alert as ever. It wasn't long before there were bodies moving past him and Nyx, who had been in a tree nearby as well. The bodies...Aurelius, Hild, and two unidentified individuals. Daemon froze where he was standing, waiting for something to be said to him. Nothing. They got into the vehicle that they had arrived in, and would be leaving in a few moments. Just as he felt that it was necessary to thoroughly inspect the situation, the tall chimera heard a voice via radio communication.

"Take out the leaders of Amestris, Creta, and Xing. Aim only to kill--only to destroy, for we cannot build upon breath."

It was Aurelius.

"Aim only to kill--only to destroy..."

That message repeated itself in his mind. His task. His purpose. Though his master was leaving the area, Daemon knew that he must NOT fail the task assigned to him. Failure was never an option. Failure would result in severe consequences, which he would cease to think about until they were needed.

Footsteps. A woman approached.

"I must assist you two."

The accented voice caused a refocusing of Daemon's thoughts.

"Assist if you must - but I am only here to do as instructed. Anything that prevents me from doing so will be taken care of as necessary, and that includes you, ma'am." As he turned his attention back toward the APC and the people that emerged from it, he stepped toward them cautiously. They weren't currently moving very much, and there were too many noises to pinpoint their exact locations, so he would get closer until he was at a good range for detecting the locations of the people who, by now, should have already exited their vehicle. He had to make sure of their identities before moving on to other things...

"For you, my liege, I will kill. I will be killed. I will sacrifice all that I am, ever was, or will be. My purpose lies in serving you, and nothing else," he muttered as he got closer.

Hrn? Oh, it seemed that something had not only caught her blades in midair, but also made them fall to the ground, momentum completely gone? Such a pity. The young Spectre chuckled softly, watching with interested eyes the scene before her. She placed a hand on her hip, not so much worried anymore. The very fact that something had occurred had meant that her job had been successful. She had been noticed, and someone had reacted. She didn't have anything else to do. Now, it was her attempt at talking her way out of this. She could almost imagine it now; a small circle with different choices, the path of the Paragon, or the Renegade. Depending on how she talked here, it could change the outlook that these people had on her in the future, right? Right. With a smile on her face, Deirge stepped forwards, and watched as the figure that had stopped her weapons stepped forwards. Oh? It was a young girl, it seemed. Blonde, green eyes. Not much younger than she was, but not very old in the first place. She laughed softly, and tilted her head to the side, wondering if the girl spoke Amestrian. That said, she wasn't the ringleader in this, was she? No, she was just the hired help, in a sense. Just the one to assist the main man. Now, where was the main man? Maybe if she pushed a little more, she'd be able to pull him ou--

That noise. Deirge looked over to the side sharply, the sound of something 'whoosh'ing out of a tube occurring and firing off towards her. Gr. She grit her teeth, and prepared to jump backwards, as the first of the rockets appeared in the vision of the Commander. She pushed off of the ground, and jumped backwards, vaulting over and landing gracefully a metre away, before feeling it. The explosion came from behind her, and she flew forwards, pushed by the force from the rocket's explosive. Landing on the ground, Deirge groaned. That... smarts... she slowly got to her feet, pushing on the ground with a hand and standing up shakily. She watched from the direction that the explosive ordinance had come, and heard a large thing hit the ground. Oh, great. Stepping back slightly, Deirge's eyes were slightly widened, as if she was scared, almost. Not scared, just... worried. She swallowed, and suddenly heard a voice coming through the smoke that was now only just beginning to recede, "Yesli vy vse yeshche zhivy, pokazatʹ sebya i slozhitʹ oruzhie. Ne vybrasyvaĭte svoi zhizni za takiezlye dela! Drachma tak zhe miloserdny , kak ona yavlyaet·sya moshchnym, my ne budem ubivatʹ teh, kto obeshchaet ne navreditʹ nam!" Didn't... understand a single word that he said, except for "Drachma". Ugh. Deirge growled lightly, and spoke at the silhouette that was in the distance. Please understand Amestrian...

"I-I don't understand you... But my job is complete. I don't know why I was ordered to come here; I just followed my orders to the T. I have not killed a single Drachman man, woman or child. My plans were complete when you arrived. I shall surrender my arms, and leave peacefully. I mean no harm to anybody in this world, you have my word as the Princess of the Maiores Verum." She nodded, and sighed softly. This was.. how she expected it to go, actually. With a yawn, she raised her hand to her ear and pressed the communication button, "Tali. We're compromised. Prepare to fall back to the Normandy." She looked up to check on Joker, and had to hold back a worried shout. J-Joker...


He had been watching over the group for a while. Ever since they had dropped, Joker had just hovered above them, waiting for the opportune moment when he could go ahead and pick them up, in time to simply leave and return to Creta, where they belonged. His eyes had been flickering across the dashboard for a while now in fact, wondering what was taking so long. Did the Drachmans not care about this base, or something? It confused him greatly. With a sigh, Joker scratched the back of his head and sighed. It was a pity he couldn't walk. Then again, it had been five years now. He was used to it all. The jokes, the insults, the frequent attempts at pushing him out of his wheelchair. He'd had it all. So he was just used to it. And in the air, Joker felt at his freest. So when he sat up here, he couldn't help but chuckle. Because he finally lorded over the idiots of the world.

BEEEEEEEEEEEP... Eh? A single, long, shrill beep alerted him to something on the radar; gritting his teeth, Joker switched on the top camera, swinging it around in the direction that was being alerted to him. Agh! He blinked, and studied it for a second. Shit. Shitshitshit. Bogey. Nodding internally, Joker began to attempt at turning the Normandy to face the incoming red ship. But that plan went to no avail, as it moved out of the way, pointing something at him that glowed red. Laser. Crap. He cut the throttle out, and the ship dropped out of midair for a second, freefalling as the laser fired and clipped a wing. He shouted, and pulled the throttle once more, red warning lights flashing, sirens wailing. Pulling on the throttle to force it into full strength, he shot the ship off like it was made to do, flying straight forwards, and into the path of a building. The incoming ship. It would probably line up for another shot. He grit his teeth and flew closer, closer, closer... TURN! Turning the wheel straight to the side, he managed to do a barrel roll, turning the ship and avoiding the building. Righting himself, Joker pulled backwards on the yoke, causing the Normandy to get into a climb. He kept the climb going, and turned around to face the ship side on, flicking a switch and activating his targeting system, aiming a square box at the right wing of the ship. He had no reason to kill the guy. He was a pilot. So he'd just disable him. Pressing the button, Joker fired off a small salvo of rockets at the right wing of the Fallacy, before firing off his throttle again and pushing the ship forwards through the air, making movements that would, hopefully, deter the opponent.

“You asked for me?” The voice of the first person he'd asked for was there. He nodded internally, and turned towards the approaching man with a small smile on his face. It was Xiao Yu, his Imperial Guardsman, and a man that he'd learned to trust very greatly. He stretched slightly, and took a single step forwards, walking towards Xiao and greeting him halfway, giving a slow and calm nod, as the Emperor that was always calm to his subjects.

"I did. However, I shall wait for my companion to arrive, otherwise I will be required to address the same issue twice." That said, where was Peizhi? He turned to Xiao with an inquiring gaze, scratching the back of his head. Well, this was awkward. He sighed softly, and stepped forwards, looking further out over the throne room as the sound of a woman's voice sprawled out into the air. He blinked, and sighed. Yeah, that was the obvious voice. Wait for it... there it was. The throne room door opened wide before him, and he folded his arms, looking out over the large room at the two guards dragging a girl in martial arts clothing. He couldn't help but laugh softly at this, shaking his head a little before retaining a stern expression. She was dragged up to him, and placed onto the ground, turned to face him. "S-saeji!" He was really trying here. He couldn't laugh, despite wanting to just break down into tears of utter and pure jolly laughter. "You see, I heard all the rumours and all that, and my parents probably wouldn't let me go if they knew that I might end up going with you to Amestris, or Drachma, or wherever you might go, assuming you were going to take me of course, but I really wanted to come either way, so I dressed up in the outfit my servant, he used to work for the Emperor you know, gave me, and grabbed my ancestor's sword just like she did thousands of years ago, and ran off while my parents slept! I was with Shuang at first, and all, but I thought it would be cool to sneak in and surprise you, you know, like one of those secret servants that always appear out of nowhere, but I got caught and and and-" As she spoke, he slid a hand into his knife's sheathe, and brought the closed-up switchblade out with a humming tune. He slid a finger across the blade, mockingly testing it's sharpness while chuckling. When she finished her explanation, he looked down at her with eyes that were rather scary. In fact, very scary. Her complement about his clothing never reached his ears as he suddenly brought the knife down and held it at her throat, with a scowl on his face.

"Do you know what the punishment for breaking and entering into this fortress?" He growled lightly, taking in a deep and frightful breath, sneering at the girl, "Well, do you?" He pushed the blade closer, grinning widely now, "DEATH" He grinned even more cruelly, pushed the blade right into her neck, and then pulled it away, his expression changing from scary to kind, the man sitting down on the ground and laughing wildly, closing his eyes as tears started to roll down his cheeks. "Ahahaha... I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You just... I have to say, that clothing of yours is rather cute." Changing subject. Good idea. One of the guards that had dragged Peizhi in leaned down beside him and whispered into his ear. Oh? She was there? Y'know, he could probably bring her too. He had heard that she was a skilled chimera. That was a good idea to have with him. He sighed softly, and waved on the man to make him bring her in. He nodded and walked out the main door, bringing Jeu-Hee back. He stood up and dusted himself off, nodding at the trio now.

"Xiao, Jeu-Hee, Peizhi. We... are going to be going to war, for the first time in ten years. Spade has explained it to me already, so we will be assisting him. It will take us a while to get there, and we may not be able to assist him at fist. However, we will be sure to back him up with whatever ordinance we have. Which means that we need to break out the old artillery guns. Hell, if we have any Chu Ko Nu left, use'em." He nodded, and turned away, thinking carefully. "Jeu-Hee, you'll command my front lines. I understand that you are a practitioner of Martial Arts? Use them to your advantage. Xiao, you're her backup. Peizhi, you stick with me. Shuang, stay here with your sister. Keep the place prepared for any assaults while we're gone. You know the drill. Cannons first, questions later." He nodded and took a single step forwards, breezing past the throne and clearing his throat. "We leave in half an hour. I expect to be in Drachma after nightfall." He looked out to the side, the sun was beginning to get lower in the sky. "Jeu-Hee, Xiao, dismissed. Peizhi, with me. We need to get you properly suited up." He turned to her and smiled. He didn't like the idea of her coming, but he needed her support. He'd learned to use her to help his mind recently; her influence had reduced Nanaya's...

Csilla opened her mouth to confess her worries to Shula some more when she squeaked as an arm draped around her. She glanced up at Spade, her face tinging pink. So much for asking about Spade. When he moved away to a chair and proceeded to call out her “misstep” in front of the entire congregation in the control room... her eyes turned chocolate brown. How. Dare. He. By Zeus' thunder, how dare he. She wouldn't have been forced to search for orders somewhere if he had been doing his JOB. Don't let your emotions take over your job. Csilla had only to look at herself to realize how true that was. She was torn apart inside and trying to pull herself back together. And did she stray from her duties? No. But Spade had to be angsty about something and let the whole world see it. Her mind grew very quiet, a single statement floating in her mind. She began to open her mouth to say something when she felt Shula reach over and squeeze her hand. She heard Shula quickly cover their tracks, but didn't entirely register it. Shula squeezed her hand yet again and she finally felt her mind return to its normal musings. She squeezed Shula's hand in return, giving her a quick glance in thanks.

She began to pull off her gloves and earmuffs, all the while turning her gaze to Spade. Her eyes remained their dark color as if to say “Perhaps someone should've been doing their job and given me a mission in the first place like you're supposed to.” Yes, it was THE LOOK. With a frustrated sigh she sat down where she had been standing, bringing her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her forehead against them. She was so on edge, she almost snapped at Spade. Damn her emotions. Instead, she took several deep breaths, half-singing to herself very quietly, “Masquerade... paper faces on parade... masquerade... hide your face so the world will never fi-” She stopped abruptly, her head rising very slowly. Spade's question to her had finally reached her ears and had registered in her mind. The King... of Creta? Her eyes remained a flat dark brown as her face grew slightly pale. Meet the king of Creta? The King? Of the country she fled at 15? Who had Royal Guards to protect him. Who had one Royal Guard in particular... well, maybe he wouldn't be there. Then again... Csilla felt herself stand up rather shakily. She looked blindly around the control room. Ah. Some solider had moved Spade's alcohol from the Central airship to this one. What a good lad, whoever he was. Promotion would be in store for him... maybe. Csilla felt like she was watching herself from the world above as she walked over to the ¾ full bottle of Jack Daniels. Clearly Spade had not been indulging in it. Pity. She stopped in front of the bottle and lifted it. Spinning the cap off, she put the bottle to her lips and took a huge swig. She felt a cough roll up her throat but she pushed it back down, feeling the burn of the whiskey straight into her stomach. She blinked a few times to clear her watering eyes, then returned the cap to the bottle and placed it back down. She spun back around to face Spade with a crooked grin and somewhat strained she said, “The King of Creta? Why, I would be delighted!”


Cold. Blistering cold. That was all Csilla could think of as she stepped off the airship into the Drachman night. She had spent the rest of the flight into Drachma seated on the floor of the control room, arms wrapped around her legs once more. As the airship touched down she slipped her earmuffs and gloves back on, preparing to go to war. She departed the airship with the rest of the “bosses” of Central and South, heading over to have a meeting with Reila Tsukino and Daigoro Ito of Briggs. Yet all Csilla could think about was the arctic wind flying across her face, making her cheeks tinge red. Most of the soliders stayed behind to unload the supplies and so Csilla walked with Spade, Acra and Shula. She walked looking down, gazing at the crystal white snow crunching quietly underneath her feet. She heard voices up ahead and she looked up. She could see people in the darkness. Their hair is what stood out to her first. A tall man with wavy brown locks... she didn't recognize him. A regal man with blonde hair – Dietrich, king of Creta (she had seen his pictures from the papers). A man and a woman stood together, both with long, red hair. The infamous Ice Queen of Briggs and the man who always stood at her side. And there was one more, standing to the side of Dietrich. It took her only a few seconds to realize that his hair was also red... and far too familiar. She stopped dead in her tracks, her face going as pale as the snow around her. Of all of the Royal Guards in all of Creta. Why, oh WHY did it have to be him?? She could feel her heart leap at seeing him in the distance; even though he had somehow managed to shatter her entire being after a few days of knowing each other, she still wanted to see him. She whispered inaudibly to herself, “I'm not sure I can do this...”

Hrm.... But if she brought up THAT point, then he might-- There was the sound of some kicking and screaming, the young ambassador perking up as she observed a rather pretty young woman getting dragged into the throne room. Giggling at the sight, she couldn't help but be amused at the sight, glancing up to the two guards at the door. Their rather stoic faces caused her to lose her amusement rather quickly, however. So serious. What had she been... Oh yeah! Arguments! Right, she was going to make those. Furrowing her brows, she bit her lower lip and stared out across the palace grounds, finding her mind drifting elsewhere. What sorts of food would they find there... Hold on, WHY in the world was she thinking about food at a time such as this?! She really was such a goof.

A rather loud creaking sound behind her forced Jeu-Hee to look up again, blinking twice as the man motioned for her to get up. Pointing to herself, he gave her a rather stern look that would wilt flowers. Her lips turned down and puffed out in a pout, picking up her large duffel bag with a huff. "His majesty will see you." He spoke with a light sigh, gesturing for her to enter. "Thank you sir." Was the short response, turning on her heel and immediately heading within.

The scene that greeted her felt somehow... tense? Yes, tense was the correct word. The pretty woman was sitting on the ground before Saeji and Xiao was standing just to her right of the pair. Any sense of bubbliness was subdued as she had to recall the expectations of her station. And well... being rather bubbly probably wouldn't help her do any convincing. If she had to do any. Why was she still thinking that she might? She was in here right? Right! She bowed her head to her Emperor, straightening up right as he began to speak.

"Xiao, Jeu-Hee, Peizhi..." Peizhi... Her green gaze briefly rested upon the woman upon the ground, associating the two of them before moving on. Although she tried to remain as neutral as possible, her jaw did tighten at the mention of war. So it really had come to that.... Standing up straighter, while she no longer lived that life, her training still lingered within her small frame. This was just like a briefing before she was sent off to do work, a surprising steeliness falling into her gaze. It was as if the liquid green had hardened to peridot, a rather militant stiffness to her stance. Wow, Chu Ko Nu? Really? A file drifted past her memory, shaking the thought away as Saeji spoke her name once more.

"Jeu-Hee, you'll command my front lines. I understand that you are a practitioner of Martial Arts? Use them to your advantage.

Wh-wh.... Wait, what?! She... She was going to be c-commanding?! Thank god her shock didn't reach her face, otherwise she would have had a rather deer-in-the-headlights look. And that was NOT something you wanted to show your boss! Especially when he just gave her such an important job! Right. She had directed small teams before... This would be like that! .... right? The butterflies were all alight in her stomach as her nerves were struck rather hard, swallowing with very slight difficulty. "Yes m'lord." She answered softly, brushing a couple of stray hairs aside. Commander Han.... That sounded so weird!!! It had taken her forEVER to get used to hearing Ambassador Han whenever she was off on work. Now even that title would fall to the side for this fight! Aiya.....

Bowing from the waist this time, it wasn't a very severe bow, just about a forty-five degree angle before turning to leave. Her mind was still awhirl with her worries, not even looking at anyone else until they had left the throne room and the doors had closed behind them. She had stopped for a moment, taking a deep, cleansing breath. Her automatic response to such situations popped up as a sweet smile spread across her features, the gaze in her eyes warm once more. "So Xiao, how do you feel about all this?" I mean, we haven't entered a fight in so long! Its sort of exciting and yet.... " She drifted off as she tried to think of the right word, one hand resting on her hip as she started to turn and head for where the hangars were. The men would probably be there. Oh shit.... She didn't have to give a speech, did she? Aiya!!! She could speak to representatives of other countries and make important, and sometimes difficult decisions, with ease. Yet she was terrified to speak to her people. Pleasepleaseplease say that she didn't have to... Focus! She was talking to Xiao! Which.... She realized she really didn't get to talk to those that she was around at home very much at all. It made her sorta sad. She must change this!

Acra stood there and stared to Spade. The fire in his eyes blazing, almost insulted Spade even joke about it. " You seriously would even consider I'd let anything happen to her..." He followed the man inside he needed a coffee badly. He found a chair to sit in and fondled the ring under his shirt nervously. His fingers tapped on the arm rest to the tune of some song that kept being repeated on the office radio that was in time. Maybe something by that Bruno Mars...or Lady gaga. He only half listened to it anyway.

He scoffed again as he frowned over Spade's words again. Anger boiling in his stomach. Shaking his head he let his eyes slide close. A pre mission nap wouldn't hurt anyone as they flew to Drachma.

______

He walked along with Spade, Shu and Csilla. Having reheated his molecules he was walking along happy as Larry as his boots crunched the snow like a giant would crush people. He rubbed his hands together and placed his hand and Shu's shoulder making the molecules in her blood vibrate slightly and pump now warm blood round her body to make her feel nice and toasty. It would last an hour but he'd be there to redo his little magic trick. But his job was to stick with her so it wouldn't be to hard.

As they neared the King of Creta and Ice queen Reila and her north briggs crew. He could feel the tension radiating off Csilla. Looking down at the blonde he could see her mumbling to herself and almost shaking to herself. He reached down and patted her head giving her a warm smile. " Don't worry..." He whispered to her not knowing the reason of her worries. Maybe it was plain nerves but hey, Big brother Acra was here to save the day. " Were all here...together." He flashed her a confident charming smile. He moved his hands rubbing them together taking her hand giving the top a kiss as his alchemy spread though his fingertips of his gloves to warm her up. " Chin up kid." He gently dropped her hand to turn and stand tall towards his superiors.

Nyx stood at attention high above in her tall tree with Declan. She was focused solely on her mission, to protect Aurel and Hild at all costs, even her own life. For she would give it easily if she had to. She had a high elevation, so she heard the APC coming about as soon as Daemon did, and saw Daemon and Sablya outside the Kremlin. She drew Hemera and placed her quiver to her hip. She then thought about where the vehicle would end up. Soon she saw it come flying in, as Daemon narrowly dodged it, and combat began. Nyx was calm, calmer than seemed possible for her. The gun in the hand of a killer feels no emotion. There were a good number of soldiers approaching from the sides, firing at Daemon and the Kremlin. She placed four arrows to her bow, oil bathed, and lit a match to them. Firing them, she saw they'd made a mark- Each arrow hit a seperate soldier. A faint smile from Nyx, as she succeeded. Then, with the grace of the crane with which she was infused, she leapt easily from her perilous perch. In her current clothing, she was wearing her black sequinned dress, with a crescent moon embroidered on the back, emphasizing her position in RIOTE. Her long teal hair was also tied back into a ponytail. She landed easily, spreading her wings slightly as she hit the ground, and immediately ran forward, while recieving Aurel's message.

She moved towards Daemon, firing a rain of arrows as she moved. For her age and size, Nyx was actually an amazing shot, and hit all of her targets, although about a third of them survived with injuries. She turned to Daemon as she reached him. "Hey Damon. Hello ma'am. You are here to help us? Good, we might need some backup. I'm Nyx. Nice to meet you. And without another word, she returned to emotionlessly taking out enemies.

Cries were lifting into the air as the sound of gunfire lessened. It seemed that they were out of Drachman militants for now. The young doctor was currently crouched behind cover over one of the squad members, quickly patching up his wound as best as she could. She really needed to work on her alkahestry so that she could do this better and faster. Davidson's eyes widened as he noticed a form with wings descend by the entrance, suddenly pushing Cora to the ground. With a slight gasp of surprise, she heard the thk! that whistled by her ear, then the thump that followed it. Dead. She stared for a moment before crawling along the ground to a nearby tall pile of rubble. Clearly this must have been parts of a pillar or the wall, she wasn't really sure which.

Checking her pistols, she peeked about and noticed how all had gotten eerily still. This did not bode well to her. Soon she heard footsteps as some figures left the building, her eyes narrowing as she caught the appearance of a couple of them. Wait.... they couldn't be-- SHIT! A cry cut off by death forced her back into focus upon the current predicament, gritting her teeth in frustration. That HAD to have been Hild and Aurelius!! Heads of RIOTE! Yet forms had come into view that barred the way, three to be precise. But only two were her concern as she could vaguely hear what they were saying. Taking a deep breath, she had to remain calm and collected no matter how outraged she felt. If she lost her head, well... she might actually lose her head.

Growling, for once the young doctor was filled with a rather furious rage, pulling out her pistols as she glanced around the corner upon Daemon, Nyx, and Sablya. Considering how their squad was taken down by arrows, she knew who her target was. That young winged girl who had disabled the rest of their team. They now lay dead, dying, or wounded where she could not immediately reached them. Viktor.... Turning her head, she heard a rather resounding shotgun blast, knowing then that he must still be alive. Now it was just them, and these dogs of RIOTE.

Keeping low, she broke cover and fired at Nyx, the few bullets at her arms to disable her. It didn't matter if they hit or not, a large boulder to her left now her friend and cover. Ranged weapons were always tricky to fight against. And that girl was an excellent shot she had to admit. Lowering her dark eyes, she knew she was running low on ammo for her pistols, she'd have to switch soon. Though... if she got close enough.... No, no that was for healing! Who knew if that would work in such a way? She couldn't chance it! Not here and now. Viktor and herself were all that was left of the suicide squad. Pointing the barrel of her one pistol around the corner, she fired another two shots before breaking out running again. Keep moving. It was her best bet. And so she came to stop behind a piece of wall that had toppled over.

War with Drachma? Xiao was suddenly glad that he had packed his duffel bag and said a long goodbye to his son. Then it registered more fully... second in command? What? Xiao's face remained stoic but his eyes widened for a split second. He glanced over at who he would be backing up. Ambassador Han... he realized that while he had interacted her with time to time, he didn't know much about her. But Ace had faith in her and that would was enough for Xiao. He bowed in response to Ace's statement. A half hour? It would be tough, but it was possible. As Ace exited with Peizhi, Xiao slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out his cellphone. He quickly texted Nanny Qiu, confirming that he was in fact leaving for Drachma. He had bought the older woman a cellphone a month or so ago and while she was still quite inept at texting back, he had taught her how to receive them. He grabbed his duffel bag from behind him and tossing it over his shoulder, he began to walk next to Jeu-Hee.

"So Xiao, how do you feel about all this?" I mean, we haven't entered a fight in so long! Its sort of exciting and yet....”

“Unsettling.” Xiao couldn't help but supply his own end to Jeu-Hee's trailing sentence. Yes, war was truly unsettling. Xiao was well aware he had the talent to survive in a war, but killing was never something he enjoyed. But it was a necessity in wartime. Jeu-Hee seemed to grow lost in her own thoughts and Xiao was content to walk together in silence to the airfield where the few airships of Xing stood. Shuang must've passed the word onto the soldiers because there was movement across the airfield as men were filling the warships. Xiao handed off his duffel bag to one solider, instructing him to put it into the main airship. He then turned to Jeu-Hee, “Perhaps we should head to the armory to gauge what large weapons we have? The men seem to be collecting medical supplies and their own equipment well enough.” As he spoke, he was already turning towards the armory. Artillery guns and Chu No Ku, eh? Well, they would just have to see what the Xingese armory had to offer.

Alex was sitting in the tree. He was thinking. Where was this going? He looked down. Was he going to fight fellow Cretarians? Was this his moment? He brushed the hair out of his eyes. He thought of Jessie. He thought of his parents. Where are you? Why did you leave me mom and dad? I miss you! Alex thought bitterly. He moved a little. The branch that he was sitting on snapped. Alex flailed his arms frantically. He fell to the hard ground with a thud. Alex groaned as he tried getting up. A line of blood came down his skinny jeans. ‴Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww‴ Alex said. His knee felt like it was on fire from the pain. He stood up shakily and regained his balance. He glared at the tree. ‴STUPID TREE!‴ He yelled angrily in Cretarian. He trudged off. Muttering about how stupid the tree was. His usually perfect hair was everywhere. His eyeliner had leaked under his eye. Making them burn and itch. But all Alex wanted to do was sit down on the ground. He pulled out the first aid kit Aurelius gave him. It said on the front 'First-aid for Gaia'. Alex rolled his eyes. He then realized Nyx wasn't with him. He raised an eyebrow. Then he remembered he had a mission to fullfill and just decided Nyx was gone being Nyxish. He laughed thinking about Nyx's cheerful spirit. She was always so bubbly. Besides when she killed that Amestrian millitant, Kallie. That was just scary. He wandered around. Trying to find a house where he would be safe so he could fix his hair. RIOTE can wait! Everyone knows that hair is more important right? He then heard a rustle in the bushes. He paused and saw only a grey squirrel. It climbed the tree happily. I can fix that Alex thought evilly. He took out his shotgun and shot the squirrel down. He then blew on the tip of his gun and put it back in his bag. He walked off and left the squirrel carcass laying in the grass. He smelt the squirrel blood. It smelt like a mixed aroma of creta and death. Anotherwords known as a great smell. He peered to the left and walked in the house, It was dark and quiet. Alex ran to the bathroom. Creeping along so he wouldn’t get caught by the owners of the house. The house had black and white patterns. How artistic. Alex stared at the mirror. His hair looked like a train wreck. Alex scoffed and rolled his eyes. He stole a wash rag out of the cabinet and washed his knee. Blood was pouring out. Alex couldn’t resist the urge to lick the blood off. As his tounge hit his knee and he heard a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream. Alex jumped up and spotted a woman staring him down. Oh fuck Alex thought. He did the only sensible thing and jumped down from the window that was conveniently open. Wait………….. Was that a Drachman woman? Oh crap Alex thought. He was caught. He heard a yell and he ran. Where would this take him?

The time had come and it was essential for the Guild be absolutely ready for anything and everything. Tristao grits his teeth and turns to his fellow comrades and nods his head for the time to move.

There were so many times growing up as a child that he never thought of himself as a leader, but rather a follower. Most of his time was spent in a fantasy world dreaming about the open seas with his closes friends. Fran, Vito, and now Cat were his best friends in the entire world, and nothing would separate that. Part of his dream was to escape the realities of this world, and form a new society some where so remote that it was off the maps. No government, no wars, no fears, just fellowship and adventures. At least part of his fantasy was coming true, he was with his friends and they were going on an adventure that could change their lives forever.

"Let's go guys, we have a quest...." His voice slowly trails off as he rides Lucian out from behind the stage. Without a seconds notice, his mighty lion leaps into a full out sprint. He knew it wouldn't be long before the other were on their beast trailing right beside him.

"We're heading southwest, we have to assist controlling the boarder!" He calls out as the wind rushes past over his face, lifting his hair high above his brow. "Vasi!" The young leader yells out at the top of his lungs. Within minutes, a beautiful hawk swoops down and lands on his stretch out arm. "Go now, friend, I need you to scope out the southwestern part of Drachma!" He kisses the bird on the head before allowing it to fly out into the open air as he and his companions continue riding out on their beast.

It was strange to observe her friends in such a different environment from their homes, much less a different setting for their work. They were basically privateers, so to be in full out war was.... Well, it honestly made her think of her people. There was this weight in her chest, a sort of clenching that she had no knowledge of a cause for. It was like before rite of passage, those moments before she had left her village with nothing but her hands to go out into the jungle and slay her prey or die herself. A sort of focusing of the world, her senses raising as the drums of the fight began to beat within her blood. She was an Amazon, she fought to survive every day when she was with her people. Had she grown lax during her time with everyone?

As each had spoken up behind her, her dark eyes fell upon them, pausing a moment upon Vito. As their eyes had met, she noticed the faint blush that had blossomed there, cocking her head ever so slightly until she remembered. Oh yes, when she saved him from that predicament. His words still lingered in her mind, but she was indeed brought back into the present as Fran (of course), slammed Vito and his lovely guitar in snow. Heh, some things would never change huh? In all honesty, she hoped it never would. She enjoyed seeing someone so free and.... and... what was that good word.. random. How could she forget? Then Miguel. Straightening up, she wondered if she saw something in his face besides that carefree statement, but she knew better than to really question him. Perhaps it was lingering habits from her tribe. You always listened to those who were eldest for they were wisest. In this case though, she had to guess that Miguel didn't really mean what he said. It was... it was... um... Ironic!! Such a strange concept it was....

A man. Orders, or so she guessed. Everything the man said sounded like gibberish to her. So they must move now. Shade stood beneath her, her hips moving along with his great body, his head turning to look up at her. She smiled softly beneath her mask, lowering it as she leaned forward and stroked the silky fur of his head, scratching a little behind his ears. "And so it begins hm? Run and fight well my friend." She whispered in his ear, receiving a lick in the palm of her hand as his sign of understanding and affections. Her body rose up as she removed the excess furs she had been wearing. They would only seek to slow her down. It was a point of amusement, however, that Catalina was indeed wearing a black body suit that had no sleeves, her usual Amazonian garb over it. Her feet did indeed wear shoes (though she hated to). She was fueled by the prospect of this fight, the cold could no longer affect her as they sat there in stagnation.

"Let's go guys, we have a quest...." Nodding once, her heels pressed slightly into Shades back and the black panther leaped off the stage after Lucien and his master. Her long ponytail whipped about in the wind as they moved through the snow and the streets, ignoring the stares and cries of surprise from Drachman's who weren't expecting them. But they had orders just as the Esparian's did and they rushed to go complete them. "May the Goddess bless us with her gaze and strength. And if we should fall, to bless us in her embrace. Ay-ay!" Catalina spoke softly, that clenching in her chest tightening a little further before it vanished completely, her quick cries cutting through the air to the heaven's. She was an Amazonian, and she was ready for war.

Spoiler:

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

KABOOM

Antiquated cannons burst shells of high power explosive, sinews of flesh burst into ribbons, gore rained and blood sprayed upon the perfect whiteness of the Drachman landscape snow. Dying it in red. Women, children, the elderly and the crippled. There was no respite from them, they all died as villages surrounding Moscow were demolished in glorious carnage. Fire burnt as smoke rose, blackening the skies as the sun was blotted out in the surrounding areas.

Ashes spread as soot rained upon the surrounding, blackening the white of the snow. Smoke can be seen from vastness of a distance. Those that responded in kind with artillery, were kindly blown away as concentrated cannon fire blew away such equipment. Moscow was not safe, no, Drachma was not safe.

Buildings crumbled feebly, as the tallest were the first to be blown. The head of this harbinger of destruction spreading death to this land was the Colonel in a bomber jacket, his was not the expression of a tactical military man, no, his was that of a murderer. This was his... precious canvas. The army he leads were no army, they were all profligates, in moral destitute to which ethics is naught but an amusing concept. Criminals all of them save for a few. Expendable. A horde.

The summit's previous inhabitants were wiped out, no prisoners were taken as per Nikolaus's command, they were all executed not by firing squad, but merely had their throats slit, bullets were not worth it. But those that occupied the summit were nothing more than a token minority. But a paltry three hundred donning the black of security. Surprise was the advantage that made it but an ease for conscripts with training stirred by haste. Protected by a sorting of sandbags and fences that litter the summit, making it obvious it is an outpost now dominated by Amestrians.

Setting up cannons in this particular location much earlier with the absence of trucks that brought Nikolaus and his team here. The thunderous roars of the artillery evident here, but it was as well one that dwelled behind the frontlines and in friendly holdings now that hostiles were erased.

Gleefully, the penal soldiers made use of their bounty, the Drachman soldiers to which were male, were executed as that was but a kinder mercy bestowed upon them. Those that were taskless, indulged upon the vice of lust as they carnally had their ways with the Drachman women in military uniform, much to their dismay and cries for help, those fulfilling their purpose, killed horribly, knives into their wombs as intestines spilled. Mutilations definite and evident.

Those that manned the cannons were unlike the three hundred that took upon cruelty and carnage without a question, they were professional soldiers, not criminals put into a battalion. An even smaller minority among those minority manning but a small number of antique cannons from hundreds years past. Blowing all that which they were ordered to do, by their unit designation. All artillery save for a singular mechanism made for the destruction of aerial vehicles which is revving, kept at standby.

Overlooking perhaps most of Moscow and the surroundings, blowing all support, blowing military installation, and conducting a rolling barrage for Western forces to make use of Storm Trooper tactics. It was an elevated point, perfect. Questionably lacking visually many of the Colonel's men as he has but barely a quarter of those whom he took with him, apparently. Behind him was a slope that makes a mountain, a part of the range that makes up Briggs, a far reaching range most definitely.

A summit a league away from Arkhangelskolye, south of it, a settlement subjected to bombardment from Nikolaus's cannons as well, a cause to divorce Deirge from Ivanka as a cannon had blown between the two, a stray one at that. Enveloping the area in smoke, as wood had blown, and dirt had risen. An opportunity for escape afforded for the Cretan Alchemist, although not exactly intended, merely coincidental.

The architect of this doom sat upon a chair behind the spaced yet irregularly lined cannons, sipping a glass of hot chocolate in an expression serene and tranquil. Enlightened. One that deceives all those into mistaking him for one of ethical obligations, moralistic, although it would be a mistake as he is but amoral.

"HAH! Just being here in the land of the reds makes me a believer of Communism." He sounded off his enthusiasm, that Nikolaus.

"Sir?" Replies the weapon carrying attendant to the Colonel's right flank, questioning for further reply.

"I believe, that we should give death to every single one of those reds EQUALLY, they wanted equality, and I will give it to them, being a believer in their cause." Rose his admiring tone for the war in his tone, waving his right hand for further attention from his attendant, "Corporal, orders are pretty simple. Simply MURDER THESE COMMIE FUCKS, being a civilian is no longer an excuse, this is total war."

The Corporal hesitantly nodded, but he didn't need to do that. He didn't leave. Everyone in the battalion were doing precisely just that in wild abundance, and the meek Corporal hadn't had a heart to tell them, he would be supporting the butchering of innocents, he would rather not bloody his hands as they are.

"So Major Sherman, what do you think of this..." Nikolaus smiles at the view of the scarred landscape ahead, "Rampant destruction of landscape? Your 'Father' would be proud, wouldn't he, eh?" The address was given to Envy, a Homunculus free to watch the result of destruction reaped and afforded at the expense of Drachmans.

The misinterpretations of people in this world grew a cold smile across the lips of the chupacabra chimera. He played with the ends of his sleek, black hair, staring deep into Vanity's eyes as if he could see her future there. Slowly, he turned to the front entrance where Vincent's hand touched the frozen handle. Two different colors flickered back to the blue-haired homunculus. "Yes. However, that exceeds the plan." The door opened and Vincent walked through. Aurelius could have laughed at the look beaming through that man's eyes. Scorn? That was the best way to describe it. It was like he was taking in the ivory and the jewels in the chandelier and saying it was too extravagant. But what could Aurel say in response? RIOTE had all the money in the world; he enjoyed pampering them. "Wouldn't you prefer to be entertained rather than gather dust while everyone else has all the fun?" His eyes narrowed, piercing slits of two worlds. He laughed, quietly--like ice breaking against glass. A man who appeared to be part of the Amestrian military--a man who was something else entirely now wanted to speak with them. "Isn't that glorious, Hild?" He looked to her briefly, walking from the side of Alena and to an extravagant wooden door, looking to be at least a hundred years old.

His fingers coiled across its surface, sliding down to touch the keypad awaiting his ever-present orders. And then something peculiar happened, Aurel smiled, his air-eating eyes aimed viciously at the newcomer who clearly did not belong in their presence. It was humoring how disturbed Vincent Alexander looked as he continued through the large, open hall until he reached the center where Chaos had stood only moments ago. He kept his distance for a reason. And that reason... he doubted anyone in the room would know. The faint electronical sounds coming from the buff man combined with his superior knowledge of what a corner mouse would due eluded to the fact that he was most certainly carrying a device on him that would most likely kill the attacker if not him as well. Aurel clenched the door handle, fangs digging into the inside of his cheeks, and flooding his body with irresistible pain. He would have liked to see what would happen when he killed that man, whomever he really was. Turning, he pushed his back against the door, concocting a more-preferred plan that wouldn't end with his own, sweet demise. Death, I must wait yet for your caring arms. Even after everything, Aurelius still could barely stand the shrill of sucking in each breath and coexisting with everything else alive. Alive, what did that even mean? People fought and died...were fighting and dying, but...to Aurel it meant nothing be release--release from the garish chains of society weighing him down and refusing to let him free. Sweat beaded on his forehead and it became all he could do to resist killing himself and possibly everyone else in this room. Hild was in this room.

Hild.

His reason. His anchor. Hild. Aurel typed in a code without looking at it. The door opened to darkness. "Tell me, Vincent, what is your real name and why have you come? Surely, you know the danger of being in our company." He stood in the doorway to stairs that lead down--down to the deep crevices of the earth in which a thousand fearful eyes stared up towards the light. It gleamed off the white, glinting from weeks of dark and imminent doom. Aurel smirked at them like a predator at his prey, tracing the human transmutation circle below their feet with his menacing gaze. "Perhaps you would like to watch the show? Tonight, we will be making a philosopher's stone." Cooking with Aurelius Schwarz. It would be a masterpiece.

She was right; it was Dietrich. She smirked despite herself and trudged the rest of the way through the snow to greet him in the middle of a Drachman highway. Golden pools iced over in some unfathomed emotion squinted through the cold wind that made the corners of her eyes bleed tears. "Fancy seeing you here," she replied without hesitation, looking over his shoulder at the vehicles parked and waiting. What was he planning with all of this...? Reila smiled in return, her's heartfelt and bright in the beaming headlights of both the AC and the UFO's. Typical Reila smile, unheld back by even the torrents of war and the destruction of her country. She took his hand firmly and shook it, looking deep into red eyes. How...peculiarly red. Funny, how she hadn't noticed that before. Red...like Dai's. She side-glanced her companion and then let out a hearty laugh. "Grunt work suits us, ne Dai? And excuse me, Dietrich, but you are certainly not overdressed; you look exceptional if I must say." Entertained by her own words, she let another smile fall out of her and attempt to melt the snow under her incredible thermal boots.

A man was approaching them--someone the girl had never before seen, but was slightly intrigued by. Why? Well, he looked like Dai with short hair and blue contacts. It wasn't Dai because Dai was standing next to her, but she had to wonder for a moment before continuing unabated. "Of service to me..." She had it all figured out in her mind as to the best plan of action for Creta, but... needless to say, she wasn't expecting Dietrich to ask her directly of what she wished for him to do... The mere fact he asked issued a soft smile and a gleam in her eyes. No one messed with this Reila. Her authority wafted off of her, licking across the snow and over great distances. "Aurel, Hild, and Vanity will hardly stay in the capital. Find their hideout." Before it was too late to locate them, they had to take them out. That was the only way to win because...they would just keep coming back. Again and again...it would never end--and endless cycle of pain and destruction. It was something Reila refused to allow. No. Her hand glanced against the hilt of her tachi, eyes ablaze with a fervor toward peace.

It would happen...one day.

The man with the red hair stopped beside the King. His eyes sent chills down the general's back. Her sleeve brushed Dai ever so slightly, making her realize that she had unconsciously moved closer to him. Dai... Something about him always comforted her. "Calm down, Reila..." Okay...it was as easy as that, right? Just so...easy. His name was Elastor Ito. Ito...? Reila blinked and then searched Dai's expression for answers. However, before she could conclude anything, "We are being watched." Reila blanched. Oh shit, already? She kept her head very still as her eyes scoured the darkening distance gleaming off the snow. Shadow was darkest around the light. "What..what do you mean we're being watched?"

Spade received THE LOOK indifferently. He was actually rather taken aback by her...actions. He stared forlornly at the bottle of Jack now sitting on the table with one less swig left. His heart skipped a beat. He looked at Shula half-expecting her to be just as bewildered as him, but he didn't find anything there. He only found something in himself--something he didn't like. His authoritative behavior was unbecoming of him. He clenched his hand around the glass bottle, staring at the contents as if it were a liquid pain reliever: something he needed. He looked back at Csilla, sobered, but wishing he could still be his normal happy-go-lucky self. Two girls whispering behind his back felt off... Making a joke about it was his style, but it was also...not him. Would he have normally said anything--anything at all? No, he would have passed it off probably. As he would have no reamed her out. It wasn't like he really cared. Spade was just--just worried. He was worried because the last time they were in battle...the last time was hell. Who was to say that it wouldn't happen again? He touched his healing ribs and winced, sighing and looking at the ceiling as if it would give him a divine response.

He was met with silence.

An uneasy silence, filled with the echo of the blond's elated response. Spade didn't understand her... He wasn't even sure if he understood himself anymore.

By the time the airship landed safely at the meeting point on the highway just outside of Moscow, the entire bottle of whiskey was entirely too empty. Ten, who had carried it for him was tapping away at his computer, and relaying commands to all Amestrian soldiers milling about the area. Fort Briggs had already gone on to Moscow. Spade made sure that Shula, Csilla, Ten, and Acra were all outside of the airship along with a variance of supplies before he began boarding the soldiers back on. "I'm going ahead, Shu. Good luck with the meeting," he said in a husky voice over the radio. He saw her look for him and turn. He waved from the open gate before it began its close and the ship its ascent.

It took all of ten minutes before the sounds of gunshots permeated into the thick walls of the airship. Everyone around the Brigadier general was on edge including himself although the whiskey gave him a sway. They touched down in the snow so briefly that some people had to jump five feet to the ground before the skip shimmied away. Three seconds later, it exploded. Fuck. Spade clenched his pistol to him, staring listlessly into the sky lit up like a firework. Fuck. How were they going to get home? He could only hope that Briggs had those gigantic ships stockpiled. That had been a great pilot too... Fuck. Spade raised his pistol and blew apart the skull of a man wearing a RIOTE uniform. God fucking dammit.

"My purpose lies in serving you, and nothing else..." What...? Cretan? Oh shit. Spade spun around, meeting eyes with--with. Some guy with long, black hair. He was not a Cretan militant. Oh no...far from it. The transmutation circle glowed under Spade's clothes and the playboy appeared beside the...creature. He raised his gun, fingers digging into the trigger, he fired. "Serve this!"

"%#$%#$^###$!!" Toss shut his engine down the moment he watched the larger ship start plummeting to the ground to avoid further attack. He did the same, on its ass. He switched the systems back on and swung around to the other side of the mothership, aiming dead-on at the cockpit, but it barrel-rolled away. The spin would off his aim, so his fingers let up. He climbed and snaked to the side, appearing behind the vessel in a blind spot that could-- "Fuck," he cursed, laughing in glee at his first fun in years. Finally a challenge. Surely he would overcome this? The other ship was now at his side--a dangerous place. Something locked on. The Fallacy cried out in shrill alarms, flashing dead bulbs that he still needed to replace. Toss cackled, and pressed a single button. Hyper Mode Activation. The red swordfish lurched forward, slamming into the side of the ship as it spiraled up into the atmosphere. The pressured croaked against the temperate plates, heating them up until they glowed a feverish red like the homunculi's eyes as he diverted the rockets with the splay of his hands across the touchscreen. Each and every single one of them exploded into gusts of failure. The smoke cleared.

Out of logical reach now, Toss raised his nose and smirk callously. Sweaty, white bangs fell over his festering eyes. "Goodbye, challenge." Charging... Firing, it said. And the hyper blast sparked at the long metal pole at the front of The Fallacy. It lit up, blinding the entire area in light akin to a star. And after a few seconds of charge, it fired a wide blast directly in the path of not only the Normandy, but also a Fort Briggs aircraft carrier. Immediately he saw the large, white ship burst into flames and explode in midair. But the other... He squinted at the radar, lowering to the borderline between Space and Earth. If it wasn't finished yet, he would make sure of it.

Momo didn't understand the way of military command and obedience. She heard stay put, but in acrobatic terms, that usually meant jump the highest you can or get out. Green eyes twitched with sorrow and she felt liquid build up there, threatening to spill out and freeze somewhere beneath the blankets of snow. She watched Ivanka go and reached out for him only to miss catching his sleeve. So...she was useless? Had she not protected them well enough? What had...she done wrong? "I'm sorry," she breathed in a swirl of breath she could see. "I'm sorry..."

She took off running before she even knew what she was doing. "I hate being alone. I-I don't want to disappear!! Ivanka!!!" She called after him, stopping in her tracks and almost colliding into him with her light body. She looked up to see the stars and a mix of smoke that threatened to cover them. She lowered her eyes, tugging at the man's sleeve with fear gleaming through green. "Please...don't kill anymore people..." She sniffed, wiping at her eyes and taking a deep breath. "How much more pain...do you think this country can take? I...don't want to see the beautiful, white snow tainted with blood. Can we... go--" Something exploded in the sky, showering the entire landscape with a bright beam of light. It looked...like red, brown, and white lightly laced with blue fire. She gasped. It was beautiful, but... Pieces of debris from what looked like an Amestrian airship carried rained down a few yards away. Oh! That was where that..that voice came from. Oh no!

Marismo took off in a sprint, gauging that none of the debris would fall anywhere near Ivanka. She followed the sound of where that strange language came from and dove at the shadowed figure, holding out her arms and shutting her eyes. Just before the smoldering pieces hit, they froze, suspended in midair. "Quick get out of the way!"

What fucking--SHUT THE FUCK UP DOWN THERE! Or well... thats what she wanted to shout, her eyes narrowing as she glared down at those Drachman idiots below her. Her people. Now hold the fuck on, they weren't her goddamn people. Not anymore. This was just.... just some misguided sense of duty towards her father. The last sense she'd ever have. After this, she wasn't ever fucking coming back here unless she absolutely had to for work or to hide out. God DAMMIT she hated it. Especially now. Everyone just blindly following Alena. Cattle following a lion. Her mouth twisted in a displeased sneer as she flicked her third cigarette off the roof as everyone finally began to move. Bout fucking time considering that boom that came from the Kremlin. Much less other explosions in the far distance.

Pushing herself up, Alisa Donnikova, daughter of Anton, had important work to do. A contract. From the old Fuhrer of Amestris no less, leader of RIOTE. Not that she really gave two shits about their whole dispute. This didn't mean she didn't know stuff. Of COURSE she knew stuff! It was best to at least be informed of the things that you'd want to avoid if possible, or team up with like she had for now. Just for her father. THAT WAS IT. Taking a deep breath in, she took one more minute to observe the Esparians ride off on their great cats, the Drachman's respond to their orders, and the helicopter that landed for the rest. Kuvalda. Good luck to those fighting them. Heh.

A growling sigh rose up from her throat as she jammed her hands into the pockets of her brown coat, brown eyes half-lidded in her disgust. "Some goddamn whiskey sounds good right about now." She muttered to herself, shoulders hunched as she descended the fire stairs to the alleyway behind the building she had been perching upon to watch it all. What a shitty fucking day. Her pay better be fucking worth it. She had wasted far too much money in Amestris before she--

A twinge. Or something, what the fuck was that just now?! Rubbing her head, she kicked over a trash can with a resounding crash, the typical cat howling in surprise. Fuck. This was a goddamn movie. "Oi! You there! You should be heading to the evacuation centers!" The Drachman militant shouted to her from the end of the alley in front of her. Raising a single eyebrow, her fingers twitched inside the pocket of her coat, that twinge forgotten for now. He was on edge. What a goddamn pussy. "I don't give a fuck. I'm a hired merc you fucking fool. Maybe you should pay attention to your briefings. Get outta my fucking face." She muttered rather low, the cold stare she gave him sending a shiver down his spine. He just left. Good. Smart man. Still a pussy.

From there, it was onwards to the.... ah fuck. Whatever the hell that building was called. She knew where she was going dammit! Where she'd get to sit and do.... nothing. For a while. Lighting up another fag, the smoke drifted up lazily as she made a brisk pace for the whatchamacallit building.


God... How old was this place?! The mixed woman stood there before slipping inside quite discreetly. But the minute the door closed, she could feel how still the air was, her eyes narrowing. Drawing her pistols she immediately dodged to her left, smacking away a can of something with a loud clang. "That you Semyon? Go fuck yourself!" She snapped to the dim stairs in front of her, night having fallen all about them.

The response was a chuckle and the smell of a cigar, the tall man folding his arms as he stepped into the light. Yep. It was fucking him. Shit. "So, the little bitch decides to finally crawl home and offer herself like the whore she is. Why the fuck do you think I'd be ok with you showing your face here?" He spoke, and though his voice was a bit raspy, she knew better than to actually fuck with him. Cause there was fucking around, and then there was fucking around. God dammit this isn't what she wanted to deal with right now. Where the fuck was some whiskey?!

"Because we have a fucking job you shmuck. Now I'm only going to say this once so unplug those goddamn cesspits you call ears since you've misheard me before." She began, slowing walking over to the can to pick it up. She could add it to the aluminum that she kept wrapped around her waist beneath her shirt. "We're going to do the job. We're going to stay out of each others fucking way. And if we fight," She stopped and pondered something for a second or two, "I repeat, IF we fight, it's going to be after all this bullshit. Got it? Or is that too much for your pee-brain to comprehend?" The words snapped like a whip upon him, the others that she knew were there remaining silent and away in whatever fucking pit they were in.

He was quiet for a moment before sucking in the smoke of his cigar, the cloud obscuring his features. "Very well подруга. Until the end of this whole mission." And with that he withdrew, leaving the room quiet as before. Alisa watched him go from where she stood by the front doors, immediately heading up to the highest floor to watch from there. Somebody was going to come here, otherwise Hild wouldn't have ordered them here. God dammit she better be getting paid well! Finding a room for herself, she crouched down by the windows and peered out carefully, gripping some of the aluminum around her waist to form some minor traps should they indeed have visitors. And with that, she got to work, all the while her ears straining for any sounds, regularly looking out of those windows. And still no whiskey. Fuck.

Tristao didn't answer her. That made Fran sad. Fran was sad. Sad was Fran. She balled her hands into fist and huffed, staring at Vito-hito forlornly--as if she were about to cry. There was no ocean, but an ocean of snow. Shorea didn't like it. Wahhh!!! She picked up a fistful of snow and threw it in the direction that Tristao's lion took off in. "HMPH." One thing Fran hated was being ignored. It wasn't like she was an intelligent child. She was actually pretty old, yes yes. She nodded, hands on her hips, wondering if Vito was contemplating her thoughts. Her thoughts were actually complex. Yes, very complex. Even if she was an alien and couldn't understand what exactly was happening, didn't mean that she had to be given the cold shoulder. That was cold. She clutched herself and stomped her foot in dismay. Why oh why oh why!? Catalina took off too. Fran frowned more. "MEAN." Did they not realize that Vito-hito didn't have a cat-sat? MEH! MEHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

"Ne ne Shoreaaa! Can can youith just go follow them-hem? We can walk-talk-sulk, ne? Okayzo??" She smiled sweetly, and brushed shoulder length locks of lime hair out of her eyes. In a rather cold voice, sea green eyes met Vito-hito. "Let's walkkkkkkkkkkkkk. Together." She pulled her pink goggles down over her eyes and watched Shorea sprint after the two other cats.