An Awakening

A Hospital in Central

The figure lying in the hospital bed, covered by a hospital gown, sheets and blanket is drenched in sweat. A bead runs from his forehead down the side of a face that grimaces as eyelids flutter. Lips part and a small groan escapes between them. Teeth grit together as eyelids snap open and a pair of piercing stormy gray eyes begin to gaze through a blurry haze of pain. His head turns and those eyes catch the light causing them to sparkle with red green and blue for a moment. Blinking several times, the well-toned figure attempts to sit up. The young man groans and grimaces again as his right hand moves to grab at the right side of his chest. When he does the pain that explodes into his body nearly causes him to cry out but he forces himself to make it a silent scream.

Laying all the way back down, the stormy gray eyes return to exploring the room. The young man runs his right hand through his short black spiky hair, which springs back to its naturally slight unkempt looking state. From examining the room he could tell that he was in a hospital somewhere, but why? What had happened to him? The young man tries to push through the fog that clouds his mind. He remembered everything up until... Up until what? What was he missing? His eyes move back to his chest and his right hand moves toward it again. This time he carefully moves that which covers his body out of the way to discover a large gauze bandage wrapped around his torso.

Still the young man is unable to remember what had happened to him. Very carefully he lifts the edge of the bandage and finds himself staring at a stitched up gunshot wound. He had been shot! Someone had shot him! Struggling to remember who had shot him the young man slowly sits up. A small spell of dizziness comes over him as he sits up and then he hears something.

Really, you can't remember who did this to you? Well aren't you just pathetic?

Of course he is... He got shot...

That's enough you two. He survived. That's what matters.

Shaking his head lightly the young man wills away the only real friends he has ever had, the voices that echo within his head. He tries to piece it all together. For as long as he can remember he has been an subject of Project Hound. Project Hound... Something was nagging him about that... Something about the pulsing pain from every beat of his heart seemed accentuate it... Project Hound...Project Hound...

Lights flash before his eyes as his last and only missing memory floods into his mind. The young man is chained and standing before someone. The director of Project Hound.

“You're such a disappointment... Do you know how long we devoted to you? Fourteen years! Fourteen whole years of research and funding! And its all gone now... All because you turned out to be a coward.”

Don't let him talk to you like that! Rip out his tongue and break his jaw!

What will it matter...he's right...

The director raises his hand and waves the gun in the young man's face. “Do you see this? Do you realize what is going to happen to you right now? I'm going to kill you. You're a failure... Trash... And now it's time that I clean up my mess.”

The young man looks at the weapon and tosses back his head to let lose a wild fit of laughter. Laughter alone causes the director to pause for a moment; the young man had never once shown the capacity to laugh. “Tell me... What is it about all this that could cause you to laugh?”

After catching his breath the young man looks at the director, “Why are you disappointed in me when it was your experiment that failed? I was just the test subject. Just another piece of equipment. Bet you wish I had come with instructions. Eh, you probably wouldn't have been smart enough to understand them anyway.”

The director growls something indecipherable in his rage before he walks forward and raises the gun and brings it down hard onto the young man's head. Pain explodes into his skull but he does not fall, refuses to. Leaping up the young man delivers a powerful kick to the director's chest that sends him flying to the ground and the gun scattering away. As he lands onto the ground as well, the shackled one rolls toward the gun. Realizing the danger, the director quickly recovers and scrambles for the weapon. Legs kick out viciously at the director's face when he comes close but miss their mark. A moment later the director stands once again with gun in hand.

Sighing the young man lays his head back onto the ground. Taking a deep breath he rolls back and leaps up onto his feet, his piercing gray eyes bore into the director's. The older man only shakes his head before pulling the trigger. Smoke and the smell of gunpowder follow the thunder of the gun. Pain rips into the young man's chest and knocks him to the ground. Still shaking his head the director walks away muttering, “What a waste...”

Lying on the ground, the young man feels his blood flowing out of him and his life threatening to follow it. Gritting his teeth he forces himself to stay awake despite the burning agony of his chest. Time passes and the agony increases, yet the young man clings desperately to life. Finally someone stumbles into his bleary eyed view and screams. Lights flash and his vision fades...

Blinking his eyes a couple times the young man returns to the current time and place. The pain in his chest is still there but to a much lesser degree. The director of Project Hound had shot him because he was a failure. So like humans, they had used him and then cast him aside. He had always expected as much would happen and yet, though he is unaware of it, not all the pain in his chest is from the gunshot wound. A sudden thought enters his mind, that it was possible for the director to find him here in the hospital.

His eyes rover over the room again as his instincts demand that he leave. They finally spot what he is looking for in a bag on the floor in the far corner of the room, his clothes. Sitting up straighter the young man looks for a way to lower the side bars, not sure exactly how they work. After a moment he gives up and attempts to pull himself out of the bed and over the railing, despite the growing pain in his chest. As he reaches about halfway over the railing the door to his room opens and the nurse steps in to find her patient hanging halfway over the railing with his ass staring at her.

The nurse rushes over and grabs the young man by the shoulders. Slowly she half lifts and half pushes him back over the railing. Once her patient is lying back in the bed looks him over carefully. “Sir you have to be very careful. Wouldn't want to have to stitch you back up again. Do you remember your name sir?”

Looking at the woman in front of him, the young man nods and murmurs through a grimace, “Syphan.”

“Syphan, are you in pain?”

The young man nods his reply as if it were not obvious enough from his manner. The nurse looks him over again before walking toward the door, “Alright, you stay right here in bed and I will be right back with something to take away the pain.”

Sighing Syphan lays in the bed and fights the rising urge to leave as he waits for the nurse to return. A few minutes later the nurse returns with a syringe which she injects into his IV. As the drug rushes into his veins Syphan looks at the nurse, “I need to leave.”

With a shake of her head the nurse says, “Your wound seems to be doing fine but we need to keep you here for a couple more days of surveillance. Oh, you must be hungry, would you like some food?“

Drugs kicking in help to calm the urges in Syphan and he merely nods to the nurse, who disappears once again. A few moments later she returns once again with a tray of food and sets it down on the table. Rolling the table over to the bed, she removes all the food covers. “Here you go. Now I have a few more questions for you while you eat if you don't mind.”

Shrugging in response, Syphan reaches for the spoon and begins to spoon the soup from the bowl into his mouth. With a small nod the nurse asks her next question, “What is your last name?”

“Ling,” Replies Syphan, knowing that telling him he did not have a last name would only confuse them and send up a possible red flag to the wrong people. The nurse nods again and writes it down onto her clipboard, before asking another, “And what can you tell me about your medical history? And medical problems we should know about? Any allergies?”

His only answers is a shake of his head as he continues to eat the soup.

“Are you having any memory issues?” The nurse asks and then waits patiently as Syphan drinks down the last of the soup. Taking a bite of a piece of bread the young man shakes his head, “No I am not.”

Her next question nearly cause him to choke on the bread, “Then you know who shot you?”

As calculating as he was, Syphan had not expected such a question to come from a nurse. It would seem he still had some thing to figure out about humans and their nature. Swallowing the bread and taking the bite, the young man merely nods.

“Well, who was it?”

“Me.”

“You shot yourself in the chest?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Obviously, I would die.”

“So, you're suicidal?”

“Well, I was,” Replies Syphan, not understanding that such answers usually led to a longer hospital stay.

“But you're not feel suicidal now?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Do you know how much it hurts to get shot?”

“No.”

“Enough that I don't ever want to shoot myself again.”

“Why didn't you just shoot yourself in the head?” Asked the nurse before she realized it was probably not a good question to have asked.

“And take a chance at ruining my beautiful face? Oh no, no way.” Says the young man as he gives a sly smile to the nurse before tossing the last of the bread into the air and catching it in his mouth.

The nurse was not so sure she believed this little story of the young man in front of her but she was finding him quite amusing and charming. She looks Syphan over and says. “I need your address and phone number.”

“I don't have one,” Comes Syphan's reply, only barely tinged with sadness to evoke an emotion that might get this woman to stop asking him questions. The nurse looks at him and is quiet for a moment before getting to walk to the door while saying, “I'm really sorry to hear that. I believe that is enough of my questions for now. I'll let you finish the last of your meal.”

Nodding as she leaves the room, Syphan finishes off the last couple bits of the meal and pushes the table away. The pain had dulled to little more than an light ache at this point but he was finding that he was having trouble formulating a plan to get out of the hospital. A euphoric feeling had over come him. All that he really wanted to do was just continue laying ind the bed and enjoy the feeling, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. This feeling, it was even better than the best moment of his life. The moment that he had been given ice cream as a reward when he was younger. He tried to sit up but the drug induced euphoria kept him within its grip and held him to his bed. “I really need to get out of here...”

Central city, a place where it used to be grand and of great splendor and grandiose prestige, now a shamble rebuilding itself from the wrecks of a traitor's own mockery. A mockery of the government, alchemy, and all that which Ilios stood for. A shame really, RIOTE was just an organization run by kids, little mewling brats that yearned for attention, thinking themselves changing the world, but really are a nuisance to be rid of as soon as a few affairs are put into order. Well, such orders required wiping them off from the map... but the new Chancellor wouldn't abide with such extreme destruction. Ah well, Nikolaus never voted for the fuzzy man anyways.

But hark, Nikolaus made his way past these stony rows and columns of cement and whichever make up building materials made them so. Merely walking his way, supervising, eyeing details and making sure all is in order. Such was his job. A job he frankly does far too much.

"C-colonel! Colonel Stuka!" A voice beckons behind, prompting eyes to shot to his right corner to face this youth that approached his presence so. The youth caught up to his flank, strolling along in the same pace as the Colonel.

"Yes boy? What is it you have to report?" Replies he, the one of gold and black drapery.

"Well, it's for your eyes only, the corporal says you must see this despite my insistence that you're busy..." He produced an envelope from within his blouse, and only to slip it to the Colonel's hands.

There was a pause, the older man snatched the envelope as he tore it open. Gesturing the boy away as his eyes peeled for the finer print of the message. Inspecting minute details of what the corporal has written. Only an eyebrow raised. Exhaling a light chuckle, as interests were certainly piqued.

"Hoho, looks like I got myself a new errand for the day." His brain spoke unto itself in self-muse, "Meeting Project Hound's super star, and oh look! What a coincidence, just who'd have thought the hospital was right in front of me. Looks like things are certainly starting to look good throughout my day."

And so that was how his errand begun, a quest initiated upon stuffing the mysterious paper unto his pockets. Strides much larger than usual hitching his pace up, and making his way as he flexed his back. He should've taken walks like these more often.

The hospital was ever so pristine and clean, despite the shoddy surrounding. It was really nostalgic happening into this place. After all, a few assassins tried shanking Aldrich just right near this hospital, and Aldrich survived, which is why this city is actually rebuild faster than before.

Strolling past a nurse just fresh out of the room, entered a man within this stage, or room. That of Syphan's. He smiled a pleasant and angelic one at the man, seemingly Nikolaus wore a cowl of deception, for what blackness he wore that which is Amestrian security uniform, his face lit up with a bright demeanor so unreal and befitting him. A face more suited towards scowls or frantic grin.

"Well hello hello young man," His voice boomed with a greeting, snatching up the nearest chair as he sat on it leisurely, facing that bed of his against the wall opposing it, "Ah, the youth today. So full of life, just so full of vitality... and at the day of their final examination, they flunk it."

His bright demeanor reversed into a deep glare at the man, no longer smiling, overlapping the soles of his right boot over his left knee, "What exactly went wrong, dog? Wasn't your training enough to overcome these minor difficulties? Or was it because you weren't motivated enough? Hmm?" He slouches back, "That foolish director may be impatient, and when he finds you, he may execute you, but I believe you have an explanation of your own. So speak, or is your silence a sign you'd like me to liberate you from the world? I can do that as well."

When the man enters Syphan's stormy gray eyes slowly rove over him, seemingly absorbing every detail of the man. His mind begins to race even before the man starts speaking. By the time the words reached his ears, Syphan had already formulated five escape routes and plans. The young man was not a coward but survival was so ingrained into the very core of his being that he could not have done otherwise. But then he hears the man's first words. THIS MAN KNEW WHO HE WAS!

Kill him! Break him! Rend the flesh from him bones and revel in his screams, drink them into your very soul!

Its useless...We've been found...We will die...

Before the only friends he had ever known have a chance to continue their argument, this man sitting here switched his manner and tone. Syphan listens to his words without a single emotion playing onto his face, silently watching the man before him. Once the man finishes speaking, Syphan slowly sits up and runs his right hand through his hair, seemingly completely unperturbed.

Oh, we have our own explanation alright... That bastard of a director sabotaged his own experiment! Now that man, if we found that man... We would make him suffer... We would...

We have a chance to redeem ourself right now. Take it.

Syphan stifles a small yawn, covering his mouth with his right arm and slow shakes his head. The movement of his head was not only the beginning of his answer but also an attempt to shake away the euphoric feeling of the drugs in his veins that still threatened to hold him in their grip and cloud his mind. After one more final moment of his silence, the young man locks eyes with the man who addressed him, the specks of red, green and blue seeming to almost sparkle within the light. Then in his soft voice he replies, "The director impatient? No, the man is not just so singularly flawed. The man is a complete fool. He created a monster of a man... And then he didn't just chain it, he sewed its mouth shut. The question is.. How much do you really know about Project Hound?"

Pausing for just a moment, Syphan scratches his head a little and then continues, still seemingly unperturbed and without emotion, "It doesn't really matter I suppose. I can explain it all if need be. I mean I was the one that felt all the effects of his little experiments, even if I don't necessarily understand all the specifics... By age fifteen, the director had created someone who could be anyone, go anywhere unnoticed and kill ALMOST anyone, using ALMOST anything as a weapon. That was phase one and I excelled admirably, I passed that final test with ease."

Syphan pauses again, more for dramatic effect more than anything else at all. He had just laid bare his talents, shown the cards in his hand and now he would explain the limitations, the ones the director had implanted. The young man knew that was what this man was most likely after, his usefulness. Its really what all humans are after, using each other to further their own agendas and then casting them aside when they were no longer needed. Sighing a little, as if what he was about to speak about was a bit of an annoyance and it was, Syphan continues. "But phase two... Phase two was the attempt to turn that perfect chameleon assassin into one who could seek out and kill alchemists. But alchemists can be extremely dangerous to one who is unable to perform alchemy, even a highly trained assassin. So after the training specific to finding and fighting alchemists, came the conditioning. It had three parts: survival, hatred and finally...fear. Survival was first and it was prioritized, because if I died the mission would be ended eternally, per se. Hatred came second, they wanted this to be personal so that I would have my own stake in the missions, my own drive. Finally...the fear. The director...feared that my hatred would cause me to make a mistake and so he tried to temper it with fear. The fear though was conditioned so forcefully that it overrode the previous two."

Reaching for the glass of water on the table, Syphan takes a small drink, his eyes still never leaving the man. He returns the glass to the table and continues speaking, "I am a tool, a weapon. Like a knife I must be sharpened, well when you grind the knife too much, you take away the blade. The director sabotaged himself... Oh not on purpose, I'm sure but he still did just the same. They attempted to give me back my edge but all they managed to do was make survival my number one priority when in the presence of a known alchemist. I am still capable of being the best chameleon assassin, going anywhere and killing anyone, with anything... As long as my target is not an alchemist."

The rather displeased looking Colonel shifted moods even then, from displeased to dispassionate. Eyes losing what color of even an emotion as indifference flooded him. An indifference to those little explanations he was told. What he was given. He wanted to give a light laugh at the explanation he received, but then he couldn't even bring himself to do that either.

Oh how he was so shining with potential given to him by a director whom failed to even euthanize this creature before him. A creature which takes the form of a man. Or was this thing really a creature? He certainly knows that monsters do not have such a thing as emotions or empathy, and are predatory to that extent. So looking at him, just how defeated the boy was, just how in the world was he a monster?

And like a good listener, he listened to this speaker. An audience peeling for the little tidbits, this sad story of a charade that has gone quite longer than expected. Quiet throughout the time, as his amusement boiled at the similarities. This whole training was flawed, the director was a juvenile compared to the finer works of whom his handlers were.

Hah! An amateur in every way that made a parody of all these drilling. A mockery of science and discipline. Inclining towards not even training an assassin, but it seemed more a thing a pet monkey is taught! Did he not know how to train something? Should this be the Colonel's responsibility now? Perhaps. He felt it so. Immensely.

His slouch stiffened to an upright posture, straying off the chair to a stand, as he took steps up till he overlooked the end of the bed whence the boy's feet stuck out of. His right hand draped on the pommel of his saber sword, albeit all towards a leisurely relaxed position.

"I know everything, little one, in a way, you may call me your... progenitor, though distant and unrelated we are." Fingers of his left hand ran along the railing, feeling the smooth details as he traces it all the way up to the right rail from his own right, once more overlooking the boy, reclining his hand, "But you? A monster? You are barely a pup fresh and virgin. You're not even a true killer, oh no... not yet."

He divorced himself from overlooking the bed, pacing towards the distant window with his hands wrapped to his back, peering into the scenery outside, "Alchemists are nothing remarkable. They are frail, really. I could just snap them in half. They focus their crafts within alchemy first, before their own martial prowess." And like that, he turns around to face this protagonist of what tragic comedy he saw, with his own two eyes. His dispassion kindled into an unbridled wrathful blood thirst, eyes widened and complimented with that grin of his.

"Hah! Did you really think you were within the realms of darkness? That you were in fact a monster? My dear boy, you have yet to experience depth into the abyss." He teased mockingly, "Your director is no longer a concern of yours, I doubt he'd be retarded enough to cross a bigger fish. Now, do you have any questions? I am sure your mind is abuzz with a lot. Or does your brain lack motivation for answering mysteries? If so, I figure a few cognitive upgrades here and there oughta fix that."

When the man said he was not even a true killer, the faintest hint of emotion played across his face as he almost scowled. He had killed plenty already, it was what he had been raised and trained to do but he kept quiet though those inside him did not.

Not a monster? Hah, he hasn't met me yet... Can't I play with him? Come on, let me out of here! I'll show him the definition of despair, right before I pluck out his eyes and tear out that wagging tongue of his!

Oh right...cause you are the quintessential badass...The man is right...We've killed what? Three...no...four people...He mocks us..and he has every right too...

The both of you are idiots. I think you missed the most crucial words he has said thus far. Not yet. He has use for us yet. We will survive.

The effects of the drugs makes it harder for him to shut them out and yet the young man does, straining to hear the words of the man actually in the room. His face returns to its stoic normal as he continues to listen to the man. The talk about alchemists was something that Syphan knew in his head but was unable to reconcile past the conditioned fear. He knew that they were not something truly terrifying, that they would die like any human easily using his skills and tactics but it didn't change that overwhelming feeling that welled up every time he got near one.

As the man nears spurs into the last legs of his speech, the young man reaches over and grabs the glass for another sip of water. He hears the talk of the director no longer being a concern and if he was the sort, his heart would have leaped for joy but instead he merely shrugged. Finally the man ended it with question and answer time, as if this had been some sort of seminar. The absurdity of that thought would have caused Syphan to laugh save for the fact that he did have plenty of questions. He always had questions, one did not survive easily without all the answers.

What are his plans for us? Do we get to wipe pitiful humans from this planet? Do we get to rip and rend and tear? You know that is all I really care about.

Oh grand...Different master but we'll be collared again...The only question I have is...What sort?

So he does have plans for us. We do survive. What does he want in return?

While each voice asks their questions in his head in tandem, Syphan sits there silently pondering questions of his own, trying to decide which to ask and in what order. The man had said that he may as well be called Syphan's progenitor. But how? Why? For several moments after the man's last question Syphan is silent and unmoving. Finally the young man speaks and he only it is a singular question, the others could be answered in time, "And you can show me the path into the abyss?"

The mocking had done little to Syphan except spur on a desire to be better than this man. If Syphan was not a monster as he had come to believe he was, then by god he would find out how to become the very devil himself if he could. If only so that the life he had lived thus far were not some farce, some sort of cosmic joke with fate laughing and waiting to deliver an unwanted punchline.

Lo and behold, a metaphorical gate of the damned and all that is of a threshold of no return opened asunder. Bursting open to reveal the crown of a great stag, a stag of war, destruction, death, carnage, and furthermore, death. A carriage pulled by such a black wicked animal, mastered by a figure of black steel, pointy spikes protruding sky-wise. Haze of darkness marking such an arrival. If such a thing would occur, but it was all for naught, an amusing speculation and imagination of the man with such a plenty bounty of such a thing. A bounty of the Colonel's.

"Ohoho~ I could guide you, but the more important question is... why should I?" His question more of a cryptic dare than some doubt of his prowess, "Go sort yourself out, little pup. You're a play thing of fear, some slave to cowardice, and to me, you could barely keep up. Just a damned dead weight."

Ever the subtle one that Nikolaus was, reaching for his pocket to unveil a notepad accompanied by a pen, writing down a few things, tearing up the paper, and places it upon the tray next to the glass of water. Written on it was a phone number, and a name. Those were his own, being Nikolaus Stuka.

Seeing himself out towards the door, and before he steps out past the threshold of whence he would continue unto whatever it is business he does, he looked over his shoulder. Looked one last time at the younger lad. That dispassionate and stoic boy of stony demeanor and severe injuries.

"When you kill an Alchemist, and stop being your fear's bitch, we could talk about training you." He cooed harsh Amestrian, "The only other reason you should call that number, besides killing an Alchemist, is if that dumbass director of yours is trying to kill you."

Raising his hand, he waves, "Auf Wiedersehn for now, and remember to have fun in Central, because I know I will."

And with that, he was off. Manliest thing he ever was (in Nikolaus's world that is), closing the door right behind him to stroll along his merry way. He has a prisoner execution to attend, and he has to play the role of justice. Leaving the boy to his own domain as to continue whatever preoccupation he found himself in before he had to address what the corporal written out.

"Now to observe him in the future, and that director of his. Looks like things may become a blast! Shame Ilios isn't here, he would've known in his boundless wisdom what to do." Further thoughts spun and spun and spun, left to their own designs as he found himself more contemplative than usual.

Leaving the hospital and back to the street he goes, with his own other affairs to solve and handle, the way he always does.

[EXIT]

Hearing the man call him dead weight kind of hit home causing Syphan to scowl but only for a moment. He watches with a mild curiosity as the man writes something down on a piece of paper and then tears it up. The young man almost hopes the director does come after him but not so he can call the number, oh no. He had his own plans for that one, if he ever got a hold of him. Then the man leaves, with an interesting choice of words. For several long moments his eyes linger on the door watching it after the man leaves. Finally the boy speaks, his words echoing hollowly around the room, "Central... The man wants me to have fun, huh?"

Fun? Sounds like a good time to me! Let's get started, find us someone to kill already! Leave that bastard a trail of bodies to follow as your own damn calling card! Come on! Let's get this party started!"

Well, we should leave. But it should be done with as little bloodshed as possible for now.

After a few more moments the young man grabs the glass of water and finishes it off. He returns the glass to the table and takes a couple deep breaths. Gritting his teeth Syphan pulls himself over the railing and onto the floor. The pain rips through his left shoulder, despite the drugs still coursing through his veins. Taking another deep breath he slowly rises to his feet, carefully listening for the sounds of anyone coming. Satisfied that he would still be left alone the young man walks over to the bag of clothes.

Reaching into the bag he slowly pulls every item out looking at each to make sure there is nothing wrong with it. As he gets to the bottom of the bag Syphan surprisingly discovers the shackles. Looking them over the young man likes the way they gleam and decides to keep them. He dresses himself which takes him longer than he would have liked but with only one arm it cannot be helped. Stepping into the bathroom the young man looks himself over in the mirror to make sure there was not anything that would give him away. Satisfied he nods to his reflection and steps back out to the room. Just as he reaches for the door handle he hears someone coming and slowly backs away before crawling under the bed.

The door opens and the same nurse who had come in before walks in. Seeing her patient not in bed and his bag of clothes empty she turns right around and calls for the security. When the door shuts behind her, Syphan slowly crawls out from under his bed and moves to look out the window. He finds himself on the sixth floor, just a little bit too high to jump from. Sighing a little he he moves to his next plan.

Grabbing the grate on a ventilation shaft Syphan rips it off, leaps up and pulls himself into it. Just as he gets in there the young man hears the door open and crawls away from the opening.

"He was in here earlier and no one saw him leave," Says the same nurse who had just been in the room. Syphan can hear her walking around the room. Slowly she comes toward the shaft opening and the continues talking to whoever is with her, "He went into the ventilation shaft? What the hell is with this guy?"

"What do we know about this guy?" Asks the security guard as he walks closer to the ventilation shaft opening.

"Um, his name," Replies the nurse as the guard grabs a chair and scoots it under the shaft. Slowly the guard climbs up onto the chair as he questions her, "Really? Just a name?"

Be fore the nurse can reply the guard sticks his head up into the shaft and shines his light into it. The guard comes face to face with exactly the man he is looking for. Syphan raises his head above the security guard's and brings it down hard. The full on force of a punch from his cleft chin crashes into the guard's face with a sickening crack. As the guard falls from the chair, crumpling to the floor in a heap, the nurse runs screaming from the room.

Damn, now that's what I am talking about! I didn't know our chin was such a weapon of mass destruction.

What did you think it was for?

Making us look really badass and manly.

Syphan shakes his head to try and shut up the voice in his head. Then he begins to silently make his way through the ventilation shaft. Passing room after room the chameleon assassin find a shaft leading down and continues on. With luck he won''t have to leave the shaft until he is able to get out of the building. As he continues through the shafts his ears pick up a conversation that interest him.

"We have completely lost him! He could be anywhere!"

"WHAT?! I want men up in there NOW!"

"Yes sir."

Crawling to an opening Syphan peeks through the grate and counts four in the room as he waits to hear more. The next sounds are hardly what he was expecting nor are they anything he would want to hear. Groaning from having to hold the young man the metal decides to just let go and bring with it. At the noise the guards leap away and barely miss the young man raining down onto their head as he crashes to the floor. For a moment they just sort of stare at Syphan stunned.

The young man explodes into action as one of his leg's slams into the knee of the closest quard and brings him down. His arms move above his head and push away from the ground as he rolls back onto his shoulders bringing him onto his feet. Without stopping he spins and kicks another guard sending him into the air and crashing to the wall.

A guard finally gets over being stunned by the boy's sudden appearance as pulls out a night stick. He rushes up and swings it through the air, aiming for his opponents face. Syphan sidesteps it feeling the breeze as it flies past while his hands move to grab the guard's own hands. He pushes down adding his force to that of the man's sing and forces the guard to continue the swing far behind what he had planned to. As the guard lands on his back a foot comes down on his head and his consciousness fades.

The last guard throws up his hands and stammers out, “Wh-what do you want?”

“To leave.”

“Here don't let me stop you.” Says the guard as he opens the door and holds it.

“Oh, believe me, I wasn't planning on it.” Says Syphan while his feet move him through the doorway, his hands snap up and grab hold of the man's head and slam it into the door, before letting him slump to the floor. Before leaving the room, he quickly checks over the guards to find himself a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Moving back to the door he glances outside the room. When he finds no one in the immediate vicinity the young man steps outside the room. He begins to walk through the hallways as if he knew exactly where he was going, as if he belonged there. One nurse passed him and shot him a sort of odd look but did not stop to bother him. As he makes his toward what he thinks is the elevator a particular room catches his eye, Medication.

Stepping inside the room to look around the young man decides to pull out one of the cigarettes and lights it. He takes several deep drags from it and exhales, completely unaware that smoking was not allowed in a hospital, especially in this room. Walking around the room Syphan begins to peruse the items within it. One in particular catches his eye, a small metal cylinder with a tapered top that has a warning on it. Taking a large drag the man bends down to read it, his cigarette falling from his mouth. There on the side in very large letters are the word, FLAMMABLE.

Smiling the you man snatches up the little cancer stick from the floor as he shakes his head. He set it down elsewhere and begins to look for a way to turn the machine that one of the metal cylinders had been hooked to. After he toys with it for a moment Syphan is rewarded with a small hissing sound. Standing back up he walks over and talks one last drag of the cigarette before putting it out. He pulls out another and sets it on the edge of the table on the far side from the machine. Lighting it, he turns and walks out of the room.

Several minutes later as he continues to non-chalantly walk the halls the building is rocked by a large explosion and Syphan smirks, before continuing toward the door. A few moments later a second, third and fourth explosion go off nearly simultaneously. The young man smiles little as the red voice inside him lets out a holler of joy.

WHHHOOOO!!!! Yea! Now that is what I am talking about. By god, I hope someone got hurt. Well more than one someone would be nice actually.

Shaking his head as he finally finds the exits to the hospital, the young man steps through the doors and out into Central City.

Along the darkening streets of Central, one person after another walked the streets as if of a hive mind, countless millions, rather HUNDREDS, swarming on a conveyor belt in the slaughterhouse of life. Why ANYONE would want such a hopelessly void existence was far beyond the reach and grasp of a certain pirate. Sec Invidia had come to Central to find some records in Central's great library. WHICH HAD BURNED DOWN. For once, Sec was OPPOSED to those humans who were not human, and their goals to destroy humanity, or alchemy or whatnot. HOW DARE THEY DEFILE HIS SEARCH WITH SUCH DESTRUCTION!? And to make matters worse, he had ATTEMPTED to get into the hospital in order to retrieve his sister's records, should such mythical documents exist. But upon trying to enter the scene, THIS happened;

"Stop right there, sir! We have an escaped patient here, who has killed a guard already. No civilians allowed here right now." ... What? Sec glanced at the guy, a cop by the looks of him. Sec stood up a little straighter.

"No."

"Sir! That's an ORDER!"

Look, I SAID no. I'm going to look for my sis-"

"That's it, I'm putting you under arrest for civil disobedience and refusal to follow a reasonable request! You're going away for a bit, buddy." As the cop approached Sec, Sec didn't flinch, even as the cop started to put on handcuffs. No cuffs touched his wrists however, when Sec hoisted the man about four feet up in the air, by the throat. A look of shock was embroidered upon the poor fellow's face as Sec glared icy cold knives into this knave of knife-like acknowledgement. "I said I am going in, and that is FINA-" The last word of his sentence was drowned out by a series of explosions, and a massive arrival of guards and cops, as well as an escaping fugitive. Huh.

"HEY! They're working together! Get'em both!"

In no time at all, cops and guns were on Syphan and Sec alike. Sec, lacking the mercy and value of life involved in taking a hostage, pulled his .9 and capped the poor cop’s brains to the ground, dropping the body, before picking off another two of the fuzz. Now moving in great strides towards Syphan, he’d holstered his .9 and drawn Reaper, eyes glazed over in a bit of rage. How dare these cops WASTE his TIME? He could have found the records of his missing sister in that time! His mighty obsidian rapier went down with fierce force, cutting down a cop that had approached Syphan. Deciding that Reaper wasn’t fit for keeping the cops at bay, Sec redrew his pistol, popping off a few more bullets. Not bothering to turn to face Syphan, he spoke. “My Benz is across the parking lot. Upon arriving at it, I suppose I can take you away from these festering fools. The least I could do, merely to spite the morons that barred me from my unknown sister’s files.” Blap, blap, blap, pop goes the cap, and more cops dropped. Sec and Syphan soon reached the car, and Sec entered the driver’s seat, donning his fedora which he grabbed from the dash. Glancing up, he checked to see if Syphan was coming or not.

“Hop in.”

Now that he was out of the hospital, Syphan found himself surrounded by cops but it would seem he was not alone. Somehow another man had been lumped in together with him as one of his cohorts. Once again the assassin exploded into a whirling maelstrom of violence. Fists flew, kicks were delivered and chin punches handed out all around him. Syphan was being very generous with his violence denying none of the cops near enough to him from receiving his gifts. Cops were dropping all around him, though some from the bullets fired by his new accomplice.

Hell yea! Say night night officers, allow us to tuck you in for your final eternal rest!

It's no use there are too many of them, we're gonna be caught... Caught, sent to jail...and then raped.


Geez, could be anymore morbid?

Yes...

Guys you're killing the atmosphere! I mean look it's raining blood!

The other man who had started shooting the cops had now switched to slashing one with a with a rapier, a cop who had been trying to sneak up behind Syphan. And then the man decided to go right back to using the firearm. This man said something about a 'Benz', now Syphan had absolutely no idea what that is but he figures it is something that could get them out of this predicament. So he follows the man back to his car.

What are you doing? Some of those men are still living!

And you know that is kind of the way I prefer we stay myself.

We need to finish them off, tear out their lives and watch as their dreams a fade from their eyes.

You know, we can die right...We're not immortal and its not like we are the god of death....

We should be! Bastard isn't doing his job right, I'm sure I'd do a much better job!

You know the god of death doesn't get to kill everyone whenever he wants. I am pretty sure he someone tells him when to do it.

So? He gets to kill EVERYONE, now that is a job I could live for.

As the man now sitting in the car tells him to "Hop in", Syphan shakes his head to clear it. At the same time his hand grabs hold of the door handle and gives it a pull. Sitting in the seat next to the man he finally says, "Let's roll."

As the other man entered the vehicle, Sec nodded curtly to him, before cranking the engine. There was indeed a good reason that Sec chose to drive a Mercedes-Benz, besides the luxury, and that was handling. When it comes to driving, one must first gain wrist control, and DRIVE. THE CAR. This was exactly what Sec was in the process of doing! So he sped off like a rocket ship, space bound for not the moon, but instead on path for the stars beyond. And thus he drove onward, Syphan in tow. Glancing sideways at the rear view mirror, he stuck his .9 out the window and dropped more cops, as the screeching sirens of cop cars filled the air. Honestly, Sec was not bothered by this police activity, only knowing that he wanted to move further away while slaughtering those that came closer. Like mosquitoes. Normally, one doesn’t bother mosquitoes, even when they follow you. But when they get too clingy and land on you, the natural reaction is to crush it, to kill it.

Still firing, he glanced at Syphan. Strange man, this was, who fled a hospital while fighting off police and guards, immediately following the explosions. Most likely, he had caused them, and was the guy the guard had mentioned. No matter. With a sigh, Sec noted that TWO of his best leads were no longer in existence. Ah well, there were other places. For all he knew, she was in Ishval, or Xing! No matter, no matter… One way… Or another… He’s gonna find her. Until then, he was destined to be fortune’s fool, and watch EVERY trace of hope surrounding him burn to the ground. Quite often? Literally. “Secundinasci Amor Invidia. And what may I call you?” Honestly, Sec had intended the question to be what he was told was a “casual greeting”, or “friendly introduction”. Obviously, his cold-as-the-cold-wind voice would not allow such a thing, and everything he said arose from his larynx in a monotone, and in such a tone as to give Frosty the Snowman hypothermia. Erm… It seemed to Sec that things were indeed about to get rather awkward…

Sitting in the car, the young man watches with some interest as the world it is they are driving through passes by outside the window of the car. He seems completely oblivious to the fact that the man sitting next to him is still shooting people. Syphan is doing one of the things he had been trained to do; he needs to know where he is and any places that might be of particular interest or usefulness. He knows he is in the city of Central but he still had no idea where in Central, or how big Central is. The young man also knew that Central was the capital of Amestris and in the center of the country but other than that he knew nothing else about the city. Finally turning to look at the man in the seat next to he about to try and obtain some more information about the city when the man introduces himself and then asks for Syphan's name. The young man takes note of the lack of emotion and the monotone of the man's voice sitting next to him in the driver's seat. While most others would find such traits discomforting, Syphan found them to be the opposite.

"I am called Syphan," Comes his answer to the man short, sweet and precise, his own voice soft and barely audible above the engine of the vehicle. It was not unlike the voice the man next to him used, not exactly monotone but devoid of any real emotion and filled with fewer tones than most people would use. Slowly his eyes began to rove over the man trying to take in every detail of the man; attempting to discern as much about the man as he could. His manner didn't seem to convey all that much about him but by the look of him and the car, the man had some money. Also from his actions back at the hospital, the man was most likely often on the wrong side of the law. A few ideas about how he might use the human being sitting next to him were already starting to be formulated.

Sec didn't actually turn his head to look at his companion. He just sort of twisted his eye to him as he continued driving and shooting. "Syphan..." He had repeated the name solely to recruit it to memory, though to be honest, with a name like Syphan, Sec doubted he would forget it. Well, there was some consolation to being named Syphan, a name that reminds people to watch out for gas thieves; at least HIS parents hadn't named him "The Second Born of Loving Envy"! Honestly, Sec didn't understand his name. He was born first, with two younger siblings, he hated everything and envied no one. His name was, quite literally, a complete oxymoron!

Turning his head halfway to Syphan now, Sec began to speak. "What happened at the hospital? I take it you're why the police kept me out, then? And once more, Sec entered into the world of social interaction with blunt, straight-edge statements and questions. Although a man of taste and a man of propriety and politeness, Sec was not at all one for communicating. Nearly anything arising from Sec's mouth is without proper etiquette, and is always the most direct statement conjurable. The wonderful thing about it? He got answers well enough.

After giving his name the man with a really long name repeated it before turning his head a little to look at him and ask him about the events that transpired at the hospital. Syphan shrugs his shoulders, which causes him to wince a little. Now that the adrenaline from his escape is finally wearing off he realizes that his wound is throbbing in pain. Quickly the man pushes it from his mind his face remaining stoic as he answers the man's questions in short precise sentences, "Yes, I wanted to leave. They said no. I left anyway with an explosion or four for distraction."

The explosions were fun! We should really do it again sometime.

I am sure that we will get the chance to blow something up again.

Yes, but will it be a hospital? Full of people unable to do anything to change the fate that we deliver unto them? Those trapped in beds only able to watch in terror as fire and smoke consumes them?

No...probably not...never again...

Lifting his right arm the young man runs his hand through his hair and then makes a rather blunt statement of his own. It implies a question but does not demand an answer. "Your name is too long."

Sec nodded slowly. "Alright then. That does make some sense. But did you really have to destroy the entire hospital? That kind of ruined a possible lead for my search, you realize. Had I not been annoyed by those ignorant officers, I would have sliced you in half. Fortunately, by helping you escape, I can take some pleasure in their frustration." It truly does that someone with no emotion in their voice to state their innate desire to kill the person sitting right beside them. But of course, Sec really did have no emotion in his voice, and therefore he was granted the ability to merely state blunt facts.

Sec heard Syphan comment on his name, and Sec had to think a bit to respond. "Well... I was named by my Great-Great-Grandfather, Darkamaru Invidia I. He was rather good at tracking down his descendants, and before I was abandoned by my own parents, he told my father to call me Secundinasci Amor Invidia. The second born of loving envy, it means. Xerxian name. Bit ironic, isw it not? I'm actually the eldesty child. My younger brother is called Darkamaru Joi Invidia V. My sister, I don't know. She is the one I seek, merely to confirm that I have a sister. I know she exists, I just don't know where she is, actually. But I think you can tell that I come froma faimly of long names, no? But for the purpose of simplicity, you may address me as Secundinasci. If that is too long, although I don't normally like this name, you may call me Sec."

"Don't normally like the name Sec? Hmm, I didn't peg you as a man to be bothered by such a trivial thing." Replies the stoic young man as he continues to watch the man as he drives, something else that he had never been taught how to do by Project Hound. The fact that the name is Xerxian does not seem to even phase him and it does not, Syphan had no idea what Xerxes was or anything about its history. Shrugging a little to himself the former pet of Project Hound adds while continuing to study the man, "Sec is short enough."

We're a real bastard. You know that? That's why I like us.

If he had not offered the name, despite not liking it, I would have disagreed. The man seems a little dangerous and I do not recommend wantonly crossing him if it can be avoided.

Bah! We can just kill him like anyone else!

Or can we...We'd probably fail completely...Like cut our own damn head off by accident...

You are such a downer. Have I ever told you how much I hate you?

Yes...plenty of times...

Good, so shut up already.

"A sister," The man murmurs as he shakes his head while his right hand moves to the locket hanging around his neck. His fingers gently trace the engraved design on the metal surface for several moments. Then the young man looks down at his hand and realizes what it is doing. He forces it down, back to his side.

Sec glanced at Syphan. So he chose to call him Sec, eh? Amazing thing it was, what happened; Sec actually laughed. A small laugh, but a laugh anyhow. "So I say not to call me that, yet you do so anyways... Syphan, I like your style. It isn't often I meet anyone who isn't completely retarded. You have guts. " As he ended thissentence, Sec noted that the chase had ended, and he was on the highjway. So he was wondering where to go now... "So, Syphan, where do you think we should go? We lost the police officers on our path, so we should go ahead and find somewhere to stop." Glancing to Syphan as he spoke, Sec carried on driving down the highway until Syphan told him where he should go, in which case he went along his guest's chosen path.

The hospital was in chaos. People ran around in the confusion as the building burned. Doctors desperately attempted to save their patents. Police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks were scattered around the building. Officers and firemen desperately helped the doctors get everyone out of the building. The scene was chaotic as people ran around in the confusion. The injured lay on stretchers outside the building.

In the middle of the confusion and noise a loud whining noise of a crotch-rocket can be heard quickly approaching. A navy blue Suzuki SV650 appears from around a corner, screeching as it made the turn at high speeds. The rider and the motorcycle come to a quick stop on the edge of all the confusion. Hoping off the motorcycle the rider quickly took off their helmet and placed it on the handle bars before approaching the scene.

The rider was a female around the age of sixteen judging by her size and appearance. Her skin gave no clue as to what race she was. In fact it appeared to be a mixture of all the races. Her hair was snow white and cut short, excluding two strands of hair that framed her face. The only striking feature about her was her eyes. They looked as if they were made out of silver. The strangest part about them was not the color though but the emotion displayed in them, or rather the lack of any. They appeared to be blank, as if the mind controlling them was nothing but a void.

She wore a blue dress with a white front. The dress was rather short except for her sleeves that where extremely long, hiding her hands from view. Around her neck she wore a dark blue tie that laid loosely on her chest. On her back she wore a blue backpack which contents where unknown. On her feet she wore a pair of white boots, held on with a blue button.

The girls strange eyes scanned the scene in front of her, she seemed to soak in everything around her with those eyes. Her eyes stopped on an officer leaning up against a parked ambulance. His arm was in a sling. A bandage was wrapped around his bicep where blood soaked the bandage in what appeared to be a perfect circle, possibly a wound from gunfire. The girl stopped in front of him and spoke in a calm yet lifeless voice. "Where did the escapee go?"

The officer looked up at the female and cocked his head. How did this girl know about that? where the thoughts going through his head as he gazed upon this seemingly ordinary girl. Slowly he replied in his confusion, "Umm that information is not for the public, how did you know about that?"

The girl replied without a blink, her vacant eyes continuing to stare at the man in front of her. "I came with orders from Central HQ to find and eliminate the one that escaped from this facility. If you would please, assist me in doing so by giving me the information I have asked of you."

The officer could not help but laugh at this. Who was this little girl kidding? Did she think she was being funny by pretending to be from central? Certainly this average looking girl could not be serious. After laughing for a moment the officer finally managed to squeeze a few words out between chuckles, "Your from central? Are you serious? You don't look like you could even handle yourself against a kitten let alone hunt down an escaped killer."

As the last words escaped his mouth a click could be heard, instantly followed by a flash. In that small instant a blade had appeared out of the end of the girls right sleeve and was now pointed at the officers throat. The tip of the blade was mere centimeters away from the mans throat. The girls expression had not changed, she still stared at the now shocked officers eyes. Speaking in the same voice as before the girl spoke, "Do you doubt my skill or Centrals intelligence?"

The officer backed away from the gleaming blade, the shock still on his face. He managed only to stutter out the next few sentences, "N-n-n-no I don't. I'm sorry for any inconvenience. They were headed in that direction in a Benz the last we were aware." His hand, still shaking violently, pointed in the direction the car had left in only a few moments before.

With a flick of the girls wrist the blade disappeared back into her sleeve. Giving a small bow the girl spoke before turning around and heading towards her bike, "Thank you for your assistance." She then grabbed her helmet and threw it on before hopping on her bike. The motorcycle screeched as the back wheel spun in place before quickly taking off.

Racing through the streets of Central at high speeds, she calculated what route the Benz must have taken. These calculations raced through her head as she sped along. Turning down one last road she spotted the Benz. Slowing down her speed she began to tail the Benz which held her current target.

Okay, She still in Amestris after taking a course in a dojo. She received a message giving her a new objective. Someone pissed off the yamaguchi-gumi and was treated in a hospital after fleeing Aerugo. And Since she is in Amestres and the closest to the hospital, she became the most ideal person right now to handle the situation. Simply she needs to get him back so he can receive his punishment.

Yeah...

Was close...She can see the smoke and fumes coming out the hospital. She took her cellphone and dialed a number.

"The hospital is in fire" She said.

The voice from the other side "The target..."

"I don't know if he is still alive..."

"Ok then, Make sure to know who is behind this...No one mess with the yakuza."

*Hang up*

She returned the cellphone back to where it belongs and crossed the street as a bystander only to find a strange looking girl definitely younger than her speaking to an officer. She couldn't hear their conversation but she saw clearly her blade threatening
him. The girl retracted the blade again and spoke some words with him then left using her bike. The black and white assassin decided to memorize the plate number of the bike.

The yakuza approached the officer "Are you fine sir ?"

"Yes, I am fine. I thought I was a goner" he looked at the lady in black and white however his eyes returned back to his injured arm treating it with humble medical capabilities

"who she is ?" The Auregese asked.

"Someone claiming to be from HQ...I don't believe her though. She is chasing after one someone...And you need to get out of here, it is too dangerous for you to be here" he returned his eyes to her but there was nothing. She disappeared.

"What the..."

Meanwhile somewhere else...

Another cellphone call was being made.

"I got a lead. I want to know where this bike is going. Here is the plate number XXXXX"

"Understood...I will send someone else to see if the target is alive or not until then make sure to follow that bike."

"Wakarimachita"

"Security cameras have seen the mentioned bike. Sending you the co-ordinates"

And the shadow in the dark alley dissappeared.

At first Sec laughed and then he complimented the younger man. It was at this point that Syphan decided he liked this man, at least more than the rest of the wretches that comprised humanity. Then the man holding the steering wheel of the Mercedes Benz asks Syphan what their destination should be, the young man's eyes turn to the window. For several long moments, Syphan is lost in silent thought. After which he shrugs noncommittally to Sec before he glances to the mirror. A baby blue bike stands out from the cars coming up behind him but the young assassin thinks nothing of it. In his soft voice Syphan replies, "I don't have anywhere in particular to go. And I don't really know of any places in Central either."

That's a lie! We know of one place. We would be so happy to visit that place...and kill everyone inside it!

The place is probably abandoned now...we would probably find no one there...

Why would they abandon it? Because they killed their pet project?

Well...yea...unless...unless they have other candidates to take our place...

Other candidates to take our place?! We are irreplaceable! That's why we were chosen!

And look just how well we did...

One of these days, I am going to kill you.

Blissfully ignorant to the women in pursuit of Syphan, Sec drove on, contemplating Syphan's response. Nowhere to go, eh? Hmmm... Honestly, Sec didn't have anywhere to be either. Pondering the thought in his head for a moment, he turned off the highway onto another road. "In that case, I believe we could just drive for a bit then, at least until neither of us are wanted for arrest." Adjusting his rear-view mirror, Sec noticed a motorcycle behind them... Come to think of it, the sam,e bike had been on the highway... Glancing at the vehicle, Sec sped up a bit, so as to see if the driver would likewise speed up to follow. Discreetly nudging Syphan, and speaking in a lowwer tone, Sec carefully gestured his passenger to look behind him at the bike. "I think she may be following us, Syphan.Could be mistaken, but... I get a feeling..." And as he felt his feeling, he couldn't help[ but glance back at this mysterious motorist...

Syphan nods as Sec says the can drive until they are not wanted but that makes the young assassin wonder how long they will be driving. How long until a person is no longer wanted for blowing up a hospital? A couple hours? Days? Weeks? Years? Could cars run that long without stopping? Syphan runs his right hand through his hair and feels Sec nudge him. Glancing from him to the mirror, his stormy gray eyes find the baby blue motorcycle still behind them. The young man's mind begins to race as he nods his agreement with Sec before asking, "Know anyone that has a reason to follow us?"

Do we have anyone that would follow us?

No...we...have...no one...Unless the director is a girl now...

But that man back at the hospital said the director wouldn't bother us anymore. Though he did say to call him if the director didn't give up.

The director is in a class of moron all his own. And for this, we will skin him alive!

We're doomed...it's probably us...only V2, chick style...

The female on the motorcycle had been trailing the two for quite sometime with no sign of stopping. She was trying to wait for the vehicle to stop, as to avoid injury to the other person in the car. Before she even found the car she knew their must be another for her target was never taught how to drive. She knew almost everything about her current target for she was given his file as with all other of her cases. His file was strange though as it included no family history, a useful bit of information she usually had.

The female followed the Benz on its path that seemed to be leading no where in particular, which was to be expected if her target was the one giving directions. Her target had no home and no where to run, making her job a little harder for she knew not where he would go. That was why it was important for her to not loose the trail, to keep trailing the car at all cost.

As the car pulled off the expressway she did her best to follow as nonchalantly as possible. Her motorcycle followed the car at an even pace, making sure not to alarm the driver. Suddenly the driver began to accelerate away from the female on the bike. The girl knew what this must have meant, that she had been noticed and if she did not act quickly she would surly loose her target.

Thinking fast she reached one hand back to her backpack and snapped open a side pocket while her other hand kept her on course. Her hand that was behind her quickly reappeared holding a black 10mm pistol, or as she called it, Grace. In an instant she aimed and let off two shots in quick succession, as to give the driver no time to react. These bullets were aimed for the rear tires of the Benz as to halt the cars fastly accelerating progress.

15 minutes earlier...

A girl in white and black wearing a Kitsune mask stopped a cab. The driver surprised by the girl wearing a mask entering his cab eventually he asked his fated question. Since he didn't have the urge to drive for a women covering her face in a fox mask. It felt like a good heist going bad.

Who are you ?

Tomoe answered nonchalantly...

I am the new Mascot. she stopped then continued with no emotion in her voice. Drive

Get out... the guy seemed really nervous.

The voice behind the mask again without emotion returned the order given to her with suppressive order that can not be denied. The driver found himself in the end of suppressor attached to a barrel of a gun.

Just drive...

Ok..Ok. he helplessly submitted as sweat crawled downwards, a true alibi to his current of nervousness. Someone here fearing for his life.

Don't worry. I will pay you. she assured him that he will not be harmed but indirectly.

Where do you want to go ? He asked waiting for the command to come sooner not later.

Get to that Highway...you will find a bike with a female motorist driving it...follow that one

He drove...

Now...

Here it is...the motorbike...

Keep following. The voice said in anticipation

What the... The girl driving or riding - don't know seriously since it is mechanical -the bike picked the gun and started shooting at the wheels of the car in front of her hell!!

She is good...

She is crazy...

But she is good...slow down. We don't want to hit them, mmkay.

ok and he began to slow down.

Oh. No. She. Didn't. Sec had turned back to check on their possible stalker, only to find that she'd cracked out two shots at his back tires! Fortunately, one of them hit the plate instead, but the other did connect, flattening the poor thing. Of course, he could DRIVE on a flat, but he didn't wanna! "MY BENZ! I will KILL HER! Truth give me whatever power or fury you can muster, because she shall not survive the day!" So soon after a rather loud Xerxian rant, he turned to a switch that lower the roof, as his car was built to be a convertible. Pulling his trusty 9mm, Sec fired off a few shots at their mystery stalker. "YOU! I'LL GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE, JUST ONE CHANCE, TO RIDE OFF UNHARMED!! OTHERWISE, CONSIDER YOURSELF AMONGST THE LAND OF THE DEAD!" Yes, Sec was indeed rather ticked. NOBODY SHOT HIS CAR LIKE THAT. Nobody!

"Syphan, we will be making some unexpected turns apparently. While I do wish to have revenge for the popping of my tire, I believe she is after you. So I have to move away. Also, you really should duck down in your seat, so she doesn't kill you." Cracking off another shot in her direction, Sec jerked the wheel to the side, veering off onto a new road. From there, he began a long, seemingly endless cycle of turns, hoping to throw their purrsuing friend off guard, or at least demolish her gas. While the Benz could take the heat of that much driving, he had a serious doubt that a motorcycle got very good mileage.

The man in the driver's seat began rant in a language completely unknown to Syphan followed by shots and then some yelling in Amestrian. He was quite surprised by the change in attitude that the man next to him had undergone. While the young man was mildly amused by it, the man's following words about their pursuer being after him sort of threw him off a little. Instead of ducking down Syphan turns around to take a long hard stare at the girl on the baby blue motorcycle behind them. He murmurs out in his soft voice, "She won't shoot me... If she is after me, then she is from... She will want to kill me using something more personal at the very least to make a point."

Let her come! We will kill her! Kill her good!

Do you think we can...take on V2 chick us...

She could be V3 for all we give damn and we will rip out every piece of her insides. String her upside down with her intestines!