Book Four: Survival

The city of Darata is known for three things.

One, it is a superior port of call to any of its closest neighbors. Tons of cargo get moved in and out a day, especially since the advent of flying boats, but even before then it was notably a trade city. As a result, the financiers of the docks are stinking rich, and the dockmen typically work themselves to death, but they're poor and don't matter.

Two, coffee franchises. They're the second most lucrative business, as good shipping requires 24 hour coverage, and coffee is beneficial in the regard of staying awake. Starshot Coffees, Bagwell House Blends, and even Joe's Filthy Cuppa Joe's are cottage crops in Darata. So, all the poor people can go to spend their meager funs and drink a lot of coffee, which makes them highly wired and irritable.

Three, as a result of all the poor people and cheap coffee, it's the only city in the world where there are no bar room brawls. Instead, there are coffee bar brawls, which are similar but usually play at higher speed and have a higher mortality rate.

Zoamel tried to pick the safest looking place to get his charges back up to alertness. It had seemed like such a good idea; a little java to help them face the day, but unfortunately, he hadn't been to this city in the last fifty years, and wasn't familiar with its problems.

That, combined with news that their contact was currently in the middle of a gang war, did not bode for an easy task. But Zoamel was not worried. After all, he was on a mission from himself...

Not that his companions cared. They were too busy recovering from a hard night of drinking/chatting, a refreshing dive into the icy blue waters of the ocean and a cheerful one mile swim to shore. Such things tended to put a damper on the mood.

Lina and Penny, under a convenient bulletproof magical ward that had been put next to the ashtray on their table, grumbled and muttered and sipped ground rounds while Zoamel fished some of his change out to pay the bill. It can't help to be thrifty, the god thought, who had little concept of money except that people often wanted to kill each other to get it and he'd help out from time to time.

The swarthy coffee pusher scooped up the money and immediately placed it in a safe with six inch thick steel.

"A dangerous day, it seems?" Zoamel offered as a simplistic explanation.

"It's just the North Side Crew acting up again," the bartender said. "They're pissed off about something or another. Territory, probably. Maybe protection rackets from the South Side Bloods. Although the East Side People Who Just Get These Headaches -- "

"Excuse me?"

The bartender looked left, looked right. "I wouldn't say this if any of 'em were in here, but the name sounds stupid to me too. They're a new gang, mostly fueding with smaller crews like the Central Street Posse and -- "

"Yes, that's nice," Zoamel said, figuring that if he actually took the time to understand the local politics, it would take several days. "Listen... I need some assistance locating someone."

"Information ain't cheap. And I don't think your pocket change is gonna cover a standard 'I'm looking for someone', especially if you're gonna go kill them or -- "

Zoamel deposited a solid brick of gold on the counter.

"Normally, you understand, I prefer to carry smaller units of money," Zoamel explained. "They're more useful in normal social situations. And I suppose this really is an overcharge for a simple question, but beggars can't be choosers. Now, tell me..."

Over at the table, Lina was on her fourth cup, and pouring another.

"Che. I hate getting drunk," she complained wetly. "I've only gotten wasted a few times, and I never liked it, not once, nope."

Penny peered over the rim of her second cup. (Although with THESE mugs, it was more like 2.5.) "Then why'd you do it?"

"Felt like the adult thing to do. Notice I didn't say 'mature'," Lina added, sighing in disgust over the situation. She swallowed her pride, which was larger than most dinners she'd consumed, and continued. "Penny... you're right. I AM old. Can't say I approve of you batting your eyelashes at Zoamel when we've got serious problems to deal with... but I'm not your mother. Got that? So, well, do what you want. Fair's fair. Try not to get us killed in the process, of course."

"Really?" Penny asked. "I mean.. I know you're not my mom, that's my fault, I shouldn't have said that. Well.. okay! And if you ever want to flirt with someone while we're questing I won't complain either!!"

Lina spat most of her mouthful in a direction other than Penny's generalized direction, fortunately. "H-HEY! I didn't mean it that way! I'll have you know I'd -- "

Zoamel tapped the table ward twice, deactivating it. "Time to go. From the sounds of it, we may need to hurry. He's holed up on the west side."

"..who?" Lina asked, suspiciously. "Every time I ask, you keep dodging the -- "

"I'll arrange a safe transport," Zoamel said, walking away.

Lina glared at his back. "Sheesh. If I wanted a 'that is a secret' I'd be parading around with HIM instead of him... and when did HE start leading this quest, anyway?!"

"Maybe because you were too hung over to Raywing us across the harbor?" Penny pointed out, and ducked an evil glare quickly thereafter. "I think Zoamel has a commanding presence, even if he doesn't talk much about it. Besides, mysterious men have a certain charm!"

"Now, don't YOU start -- "

"Hey, you promised!"

"Doesn't mean I have to APPROVE of it!" Lina barked. "Just grab your dull blade and let's get out of here. And grab me another mocha twist to go!"

"...it's not that dull..." Penny grumbled, retrieving her weapon from where it had made a dent in the wall.

"No, you IDIOT! You don't do it that way. Give me that thing."

"But boss -- "

Roy Balderdash snatched the weapon away from the idiot, and twisted the bolt around. "The clip goes in the OTHER way, you brat. You pull back the bolt, twist left, jam the clip into the handle, twist the bolt back and uncap the powder chamber. And if I catch you cleaning that thing out by wadding up your gum and using it to attract dirt, you and I are going a couple rounds. And DON'T CALL ME BOSS!"

"Y-yes, boss!" the punk barked, scrambling off, his customized Sairaag issue pistol waving in the air like a pointed stick.

"And for god's sakes, DON'T put the gum back in your mouth after! Your breath smells like an outhouse!!" Roy shouted after him, but it was too late. He slumped against a wall.

Roy pondered his fate. He hadn't asked for much in life. A few good scores, some plunder, the companionship of a few hearty lads. It was all a bandit really needed. He was HAPPY being a bandit, and was a success at it, too. Instead, now he was a failure at being a military commander. No, no, his mistake; a SUB-commander. The illustrious full title went to his usually silent companion.

"Well? You got any two cents to add to this?" he asked, turning sharply to the young boy, who was busy polishing his gunblade.

"They are not professional soldiers," Zelgadis coolly replied. "Despite being on our payroll. They're not used to taking orders aside from their usual leaders, and even then, they act wildly. Don't expect much in the way of precision from them."

"You think I don't know how bandits act?" Roy asked, insulted. "Of course they're gonna act wildly. But these.. these are wet behind the ears kids. Have they ever gotten into a battle? A REAL battle, where you swing heavy metal and lop bits off the enemy? No. They sneak around at night and pop little lead balls at each other so they don't HAVE to see each other die. And they'll never understand -- "

"Spare me your bandit philosophy," Zelgadis said, slinging the gunblade onto his back. "What is the status report from the field?"

Roy bit back an insult, and walked over, to make fresh pencil lines on the map. "He's fallen back to this underground warehouse," Roy explained. "Turns out he had an escape tunnel from the LAST 'flawless trap' you designed that your spies hadn't mentioned. We've got him pinned down with three gangs. He won't be coming out, not when we've got snipers around that can pick off his little friends and a welcoming committee / lynch mob at the door. So when do we rush the joint and bag this guy?"

"Our current situation will do for now," Zelgadis said. "The goal here is not to attack his person -- it wouldn't work if we tried. Not yet. First, we must annihilate him, wear his men down, expose the weakness. Then I'll lead the strike. For now -- "

A man on fire entered the command room of Joe's Filthy Cuppa Joe's. Zelgadis did little more to raise an eyebrow, while Roy scrambled to toss a pitcher of coffee over the man.

"Gyaaah!" the teenaged delinquent screamed. "That's BOILING, man!"

"What would you rather be, wet and hot or crispy dry and hot?" Roy barked back, tossing the empty pitcher away. "Now what the hell is going on?!"

"I-it's a slaughter, sir! Well.. somewhat of slaughter," he said. "North Side and East Side ran for it! Three people just jumped out of a taxi cab and started HURLING magic around like it hadn't gone out of style! It wasn't their alchemist, either, these were lunatics from hell!! They had fire in their eyes and raged like demons and -- "

"Yes yes, we get the point," Roy said, figuring the rest was just shock. "Well, Zelgadis? Another unforeseen element in your perfect plans?"

The Sairaag commander stood, tossing a cloak over his shoulders, and adjusting the facemask. Not concerned. Not emotional.

"It's only three," he said. "Wherever Drake got his allies doesn't matter. I will handle them personally."

"Yes, well, have fun, then. Bring back a souvenir."

"And you will accompany me."

"Damn."

"OI! YOU LITTLE BASTARDS! I DARE you to call me some 'flat chested little girl' again! HEY! COME BACK HERE! I'm not DONE with -- "

"They seem to be retreating," Zoamel stated, flicking a ball of black lightning he had wordlessly summoned away just as silently as he had produced it. "There is no need for further hostilities. A highly demoralized and frightened enemy is an enemy less likely to be a problem in the future, and more likely to fear you during every waking and non waking moment of their lives."

"...that's pretty sinister, Zoey."

"Yes, well, you have to know these sorts of things when you're a god of vengeance, you know," Zoamel said, with a small hint of pride.

Penny kicked a nearby rock. It rebounded into an alley, bounced off the walls three times and took out a pair of trash cans. "Lina, that's no fair! You blew them all up before I could unleash my mad skills on them with my awesome handcrafted weapon of -- "

"You're lucky they were too spooked to shoot back, Penny," Lina replied, eyeing the streets, to make sure nobody was coming back. "I may be good, but I can't pluck dozens bullets from all directions out of the air with Flare Arrows, and you ran out of my shield range! Stick closer next time. Now, can we go inside? Zoamel, you said this guy would be -- what the HELL is that thing?!"

Penny looked up. And her eyes brightened. "Oh, it's an Ornithopter! Wow, I've never seen one up close!"

There are actually stranger forms of transportation than the Aquatic Mongoose. Recent developments in aviation proved that the 'propeller' theory of flight was not sufficient, and thus, the Ornithopter; a small cab with many tiny wings that beat at the air with incredible speed, hovering like a hummingbird, able to maneuver with calculated precision. All facts completely lost to Lina, who summarized with:

"Funny lookin' thing," she said, squinting a bit to see it in the shadow of the tall buildings around them.

"Those are Sairaag markings," Zoamel warned. "No doubt investigating this incident. I would advise we get indoors quickly -- "

"Hold up, I wanna find out what's going on," Lina said. "Besides, if they're like any other force aligned with a mad dictator with an evil plan and a legion of faceless minions, they'll explain their intentions before actually attacking -- "

Bullets carved the pavement in front of Lina in a nice, cheerful horseshoe shape. This is what happens when you put an expert gunner on a vehicle as stable as a flying chicken.

"KYAA!!" Lina shrieked, dancing from foot to foot. Normal people, normal people would have run in terror. Lina was not normal people. She clenched one fist, orange flames gathering, mixed with red of anger.... "How DARE they disobey dramatic convention? EAT THIS!"

(Technically, 'eat this' was not an actual spell, but Lina was not normal people in another regard as well...)

The ball smacked the Ornithopter upside the cabin, proving savants and scienticians right in that the thing was horribly unstable when you actually ATTACKED it, and it came spiraling down like the descent of man before impacting hard against a newspaper stand.

"Yahoo! I win!" Lina cheered. "Those things aren't so tough -- "

"Get DOWN!" Penny shouted. And Lina did, and not in the dancing sense, which is good, because the gunner was out of the wreckage and opening fire.

Lina ducked, rolled, crabwalked, generally got mobile. Dodging bullets wasn't easy, but with all the smoke from the wreck and the confusion, she managed. Managed to slide her way on closer to the gunman, the guy with the funny sword that was shooting at them, and tackle him head first...

She charged a bolt of purple lightning on pure instinct, holding it back one foot, like a threat of screaming electric doom. "Okay, buster, you've got negative three seconds to explain..."

"...Lina?"

The lightning went away, presumably to terrorize some island town as part of a larger storm, as Lina's surprise shucked any control she had over it.

"Z-ZELGADIS?!" she gasped. Then felt a cold, iron barrel placed against her head.

"Lina Inverse, I presume," Roy Balderdash said, with a tone similar to one speaking the name of a Mazoku lord. "No big windup this time. I'm gonna blast your -- oh, for crying out loud, would you PLEASE get that cheap blade off my neck? It's scratchy and blunt and irritating my skin!"

"It is NOT blunt, bandit!" Penny declared, holding the end of the staff up to Roy's critical point. "I don't know what YOU'RE doing here, but put your gun down or I'll.. I'll... bonk you on the head until you stop living!"

Zoamel stood off to the side. "I would participate in the standoff with the enemy, but I traditionally go unarmed," he said. "I will cheer you on quietly from the sidelines, of course."

Everybody held real, real still. It was one of those moments where if someone coughed, multiple people would die. Where the slightest movement could trigger off a chain reaction of manslaughter and tragedy...

"I'm not going to lie here all day," Zelgadis said quietly. "Could you all please decide who lives and who dies?"

Lina groaned. "Okay, this is silly. Roy, put that thing down. Penny, ease off, okay? Let's all get to our feet and figure what's going on here."

"But -- " Penny and Roy said in a nice little chorus.

"Stand down!" Lina and Zelgadis shouted in a second note of harmony.

Everybody got up, to their feet. And THEN the chaos broke out.

"What are you DOING here, Zelgadis?!"

"I could ask the same thing, especially since you seem to have found a fountain of youth -- "

"Boss, that's LINA INVERSE, shouldn't we be -- "

"But LINA, they're the BAD GUYS, and -- "

" -- excuse me, but as the senior expert on conflict here, I really think my opinion should be considered and -- "

"LET ME PUT IT THIS WAY!" Lina shouted, since it's a commonly accepted fact of an argument that whoever is loudest wins. "Me and Zel need to have a few words, and nobody kills anybody until we get back. I don't like surprises and rather than start tossing magic around, I'd like to clarify a few things. OKAY?"

"Commander Zelgadis is the one who destroyed Melody, Lina," Zoamel said quietly. As if it was a minor point that made all the difference. Which it did.

"...I'm going to have a few words," Lina repeated. Reaffirming herself. "That is the final say in the matter. Move it, you guys, and get the information. I'll catch up."

"Very well," Zelgadis said. "I will hear you out. Roy, return to base. I will be along shortly."

Zoamel turned, to leave. "Penny, this way. I have no desire to stand around and wait for this warlord. Lina, we will be inside that warehouse."

The parties reluctantly parted, leaving only Lina and Zelgadis, in a stare-down that rivaled the weapons standoff from before. Lina finally broke the silence.

"Buy you a cup of coffee?"

From a quiet, bullet-pockmarked rooftop, a lone figure stood, watching the scene from shadows. He leaned heavily on his walking staff.

Of course, he had no SPECIFIC reason to be here. Here, in Darata. He told his companion that all was in hand, and it was, even if he wasn't sure what the hand would be holding in the immediate future. No need to cause needless worry, mind you.

"Knowing her," Xelloss mused to himself, "She's going to need a helping hand soon. She's getting in rather deep, don't you think? Which is what we want, of course. It wouldn't do otherwise."

"CAW!"

"Oh, hush. There is a purpose in hiding. Making like good little shadowy lurking figures and cackling from afar while doing nothing.. for now. And no, I'm not going to dive in there and explain everything. Yes, that is the most direct route, but it's a sure fire way to fail in the long run, as I've said MANY times previous -- "

The bird hopped up and down angrily, flapping wings. The feathery rage merely amused the Mazoku.

"Now now, what did I say to you when we left? I said leave this to me. Let me handle this MY way. It's only thanks to me that you're still ALIVE, you remember..."

The raven rustled its feathers, not appreciating the sentiment. But Xelloss simply smiled. He knew it was true.

"You should be happy they left you with a single feather," he mocked. "I'm not sure I would have, if I was in charge of that Sairaag army. We.. or should I say, YOU got sloppy, and this is the price. But our revenge will come when the time is right, and until then, we pick our actions cautiously. Now quit bothering me, please, it's rather strange to be seen talking to a bird."

The coffee was poured. Twin cups, set at the right hand of each old friend, the waitress totally unaware of what was going on. Why there was tension over the table. Of course, she was used to gangs coming in to drink and her kevlar apron reduced her overall tension, so she dismissed it and left.

Lina didn't go for her drink. She wasn't actually thirsty. But you have to have drinks for an encounter like this. The question was, how to open it? Hi? How are you? How's the weather? So, what have you been doing for the last twenty years? The last time she met someone from her past, it hadn't gone well at all --

"Why did you fight the gangs that were laying siege to the building?" Zelgadis asked, skipping the opening move and sliding right into check. He didn't slip into normal Zelgadis Angry And Throttling You Because He Doesn't Like Surprises, simply got right to the chase...

Lina tried to ignore that, and answer honestly with a shrug of the shoulders. "It beats me. Zoamel says we need to meet someone in there. I'm on a quest, you see. Nothing bad, just a little self improvement. Why do you ask?"

"I see," Zelgadis stated. Then, he went for the coffee. It made a good pause, while he sipped, then set the warm cup down. Then stood up. "That makes us enemies. I will take leave now."

"Wh-hey, hey! Whoa, sit your rocky ass down a minute," Lina said, putting a hand on his arm. "That's it? Hello, how are you, we're enemies? Mind explaining WHY we're enemies first? I like to know these things."

"It's simple enough," Zelgadis said, sitting down again, a bit tentatively. "First of all, the man in there you seek is likely the one I was sent to destroy. You've already defeated the army of local gangs I had organized. Therefore, you've struck the first blow, and I have no choice but to defend my interests."

"Gangs..? You ORGANIZED those guys? Why would you go and do a stupid thing like -- "

"Orders," Zelgadis said. "From Sairaag. I am their military commander now. This is my mission."

"Oh? Got bored doing odd jobs and adventures, huh," Lina said. "Well, a government job is a stable job, so I guess it makes sense -- "

"It's not like that."

"Then spill it. What's it like? And aren't you the LEAST bit concerned about why I'm so youthful and full of spunk? You haven't ASKED!"

"That's secondary," Zelgadis said. "My mission is first. I MUST carry this out. It's vital... to my experiment. To curing myself. To becoming a full human again."

"Oh, you found a solution? Some new spell or ritual? That's great! I -- "

"No magic," Zelgadis said. "Never again. You want to know why? I suppose you'll just pester me with questions until I explain, and I don't care to be pestered. So, know this: I don't need magic anymore and I don't want it. Magic killed my sister, Lina. Slain by men of magic and religion, who feared science and what it could do, just because they were stupid and prejudiced. The old way is like that, steeped in 'tradition' and history, and unwilling to accept anything unusual... like a chimera in their midst. But science is acceptance of theory. Nobody fears me in Sairaag. Elizabeth doesn't fear me..."

"What, so you get some new friends and you turn your back on your whole way of life? Zel -- "

"Science can CURE me," Zelgaids reinforced. "That is what matters. What has magic done for me? Magic destroyed her, cast me out as a freak, ruined everything... even Rezo, as much as I hated him, was destroyed by trying to use magic to find his cure. I've made my decision; if I have to pick between that flawed philosophy and the new world order, I will side with the future. With Sairaag."

Lina paused. THAT she wasn't sure how to react to. "...I didn't know you had a sister," she lamely responded.

"Now you know," Zelgadis said. His eyes curled into her, hard as stone, a glare that was dead to the world -- a heavy death, that announced itself. "You also know that I will not stop to find this cure. I've waited long enough, Lina. Too many failures, too much disappointment, too many sacrifices -- but now I have the path, and I WILL walk it at all costs. That is more than you need to know as to why I'm willing to fight my way through you to get to what I need. As for your second question..."

Zelgadis brushed a hand over his sleeve, revealing a metal bracelet. A small purplish gray light winked in silence, mounted as a cheap cross-shaped jewel on either side of the ring.

"This tells me that you do not exist," he said, voice dropping from stone to ice. "That you are not Lina Inverse. I noticed the moment you laid your hands on me. The true human Lina is married and far, far from here. Her, I would never harm, but I am not your friend, and you are my enemy. All of your kind are. And I will exterminate you. I just thought you'd prefer to know why, if you have any trace of her in you, to know why I'm doing this. To know what I've become."

Lina didn't fear for her life. Not yet. He wouldn't attack her, not right here. Everything had changed, but THAT couldn't have... could it?

"Of course, I'm not expecting you to fully understand, ghost," Zelgadis said, brushing his sleeve back, rising a final time from his chair. "But I will give you until morning. I require time to reassemble my forces, to finish the job. Your friend cannot escape the city without dealing with the snipers, who have not run away. I will come for him, and then you. Prepare."

Lina sat in stunned silence, as the chimera calmly paid for his drink, opened the door, and left. Her coffee grew quite cold before she left. And her knees were shaking on the way to the dark warehouse entrance, but it wasn't from the chill of the weather.

Nobody shot her down from unseen corners as she walked to the building, and she entered safely, not sure where she was going or why. But the feeling she couldn't shake was driving her on.

He knew. He knew she was a Demiurge.. just a Demiurge, not the Lina he knew. He'd gone completely around on his whole way of life, on everything he believed in and now was her enemy. Just like Lina Gabriev had done. If THAT was the kind of warm greeting she could expect from people who knew her... who knew Lina... what would the others be like? What would Gourry think of her? Amelia? If she ever met them again...

Maybe she could start over, once she stopped being this memory of Lina Inverse. Become a different person, leave that behind. A life that she wasn't fitting into, that didn't want her -- it already had a Lina. Once she got the damn quest over and became a flesh and blood human again, that's what she would do. Lina didn't ASK for this, and now absolutely did not want it. Someone else could smack Bandits around and eat dinner by proxy, not her.

No wonder the Tooth Fairy got out -- it was creepy, not being your own person.

"Lina!"

Lina twisted around quickly, ready to blast whoever it was, but wasn't so twitchy as to actually fry Penny. She calmed herself immediately, and dropped into a nonchalant smile as the younger girl jogged over. Never let 'em see you sweat, that was her way. Lina's way, at least.

"Hey, coffee was bland, so I came home. By the way, Zelgadis probably wants to kill us all."

"Wh-haa?" Penny gaped, skidding to a halt. "But.. but wasn't he one of Mom's best friends? And yours?"

"Yes, well, time moves on, and all," Lina stated, dismissing it. "Whatever; I plan to be out of here as soon as inhumanly possible. Did we get the information? Can we go yet?"

"Err... no. Drake-san is willing to trade for it, though, and Zoamel negotiated out a deal while you were busy."

"Oh? Sounds fine here! What's he want? We don't have much money, but -- "

"He wants us to stay and help defend his gang."

Lina paused. Considered all the possible outcomes that COULD have come from this, realized this was probably the worst, and smacked her forehead. "Oh, joy. Jolly joy and wondrous whatever. PENNY! We've got the Sairaag army commanding a bunch of idiots with firearms out there, not to mention a gun toting psychotic chimera, and they're gonna swoop in at morning! What was Zoamel THINKING? I know he doesn't like Sairaag ... after what they did, but... he...."

She figured it out.

"Vengeance," both girls said simultaneously; one in groaning defeat and the other as a cheerful explanation.

"He DID promise his worshippers he'd exact some from his enemies, after all," Penny added. "It's only natural. Isn't it exciting? We're going to triumph over the forces of darkness! I get to help!"

Lina pushed her way by the younger (but only in a metaphysical sense) girl, stomping towards on an underground staircase. "He's down there, isn't he? Well, it's time I got a good, firm hold on this adventuring party. I AM in charge, after all, and I say we LEAVE! This won't stand!"

"But Liiina!"

"No buts. C'mon."

As underground bunkers go, this one wasn't so bad. This was not a military facility; it was a place to hang out and relax.

Someone had taken the liberty of raiding a few furniture stores, placing some couches around, some tables. Not only were they comfortable and decorative but they could easily be kicked over and used as cover when a gunfight broke out. And considering how the dozen men lounging around listening to bad music were armed to the teeth, a gunfight was practically expected. Maybe some time after the party, of course.

Lina marched right through the mass of gangsters, to the central table, where a single cheap lantern lit the faces of Zoamel Gustav and another man, both chatting like old friends...

She put a hand on the man's chair, and turned him to face her. "OI! Pal! What's the big idea, not telling us what we need -- "

Eyes locked like steel bars.

When a lion eyes a gazelle, it doesn't matter if they know each other on a first name basis or not -- there's a mutually recognized relationship there, a predator-prey sort of thing. While the bulky, musclebound man with a blood red bandanna didn't resemble a gazelle in the slightest, he had that same look. Only for a brief moment.

Lina felt a tug urging her to kill him, but resisted.

"Zo, man, you didn't TELL me she was mixed up in this bleep," the man growled, in a voice that could grind stone into powder.

(Of course, he didn't SAY bleep, but the word he said was too nasty to repeat, and thus the substitution...)

"Does it matter, Drake?" Zoamel asked. "The bargain is with me. What I choose to do with the information is irrelevant."

"...who is this?" Lina asked Zoamel, trying to ignore Drake, to avoid wanting to blow him to bits and take all his money. It was a weird feeling, trying to actively resist slaughtering a bandit...

"Ah, introductions. I'm sorry, I forgot my manners," Zoamel apologized. "Lina Inverse, this is your natural enemy, Drake, God of Bandits. Original pagan lord of the thief-tribes. Savior of the thieves and highwaymen, Demiurge of Gangsters -- "

"We've met," Drake spat. "Not directly, but the bleeper has bleeped up more of my followers than you can count on fifty hands. And this deal is bullbleep. I'm out, Zo."

Lina turned her back on the Demiurge, face red with anger. "Same here. I am NOT... repeat, NOT, repeat, NOT NOT NOT! Working for bandits!! I have not sunk so low as to associate with scum like that -- "

"We shook hands, Drake," Zoamel reminded, ignoring Lina for now. "We swore to take vengeance on the hunters together -- as brothers of the same cloth. You also swore to tell me where I can find the location of the Tooth Fairy. Did you lie to me about that?"

"Well, of COURSE he did!" Lina yapped. "Bandits lie and cheat and steal and never keep their -- "

There was a slight scraping of furniture being rearranged, as the other dozen men in the room apparently weren't ignoring exchange... they went from casual lounging and rapping with each other to looming around the table in three seconds. Someone had even turned off the music.

"Are you callin' me a liar, Zo?" Drake asked in a slightly louder voice.

Penny stepped a bit closer to Lina, getting nervous. "Um, Lina, I don't like bandits very much either, but this isn't the kind of crowd you should be too picky about..."

"Maybe I ain' hearin' you right, Zo," Drake said. "I SAID, are you callin' me a liar?"

"That depends on if you are going to lie," Zoamel pointed out, calm as a lake in the morning.

Ball back in his court, Drake considered the phrasing, and frowned. "No. Of course not. You cover my back against the punks from Sairaag today, you get your information. I KEEP my word. Boys, back down, we all friends here. I said BACK THE BLEEP DOWN. Be cool."

The gang, who were hoping for a little action, grumbled and went back to pretending they weren't under siege. Penny relaxed considerably -- then positively melted when Zoamel took her hand, as he rose.

"Then the deal is settled," Zoamel stated. "Lina, Penny and I will defend your interests against Sairaag."

"That's right!" Penny exclaimed, with a boost of youthful confidence. "By my handcrafted weapon, I'll fight and fight to protect you, in the name of justice! I -- "

Zoamel looked up sharply. "Actually, Penny, we need to work with Drake's alchemist to secure the building and set up some particularly unpleasant traps. I will require your mechanical expertise in the matter."

Lina blinked a few times, not quite sure when she lost control over this conversation. "Wh.. hey, whoa, Penny, you're not leaving me with -- "

"Haaaai, Zoamel-san!" Penny cheered, her eyes catching every meager light source in the room to sparkle. "Let's go get ready to face the enemy!! Yosh!"

She practically dragged Zoamel from the room and back up the stairs, leaving Lina high and dry.

"..." Lina retorted. She turned back to study the man who apparently was her nemesis... and caught a wiff. P-U.

"Yeah, well, you don' smell like no bed of roses either," Drake said, reading the thought, scratching his chin. "Smell like you got dragged out of the ocean and drenched in bad coffee."

"What's it to you, pal? I'll have you know -- "

"No," Drake said. "I'm not in the mood for the typical hero and bandit chit-chat. I'm fighting for my existence here, and I'll take whatever ally I can scrape up, you got that?. If it means you and your bunch, I'll work with it, like it or not."

Lina sat down at the table, leveling her gaze to meet his. "I don't like it, no."

"So you gonna back out?" Drake asked, sliding two empty cups over, and fetching a flask from his hip. "Zo thinks he can hold you to this, but I ain' dim. You give me your word yourself if you want. Otherwise, walk away. I don't need some wanna-be bandit killer on my side if she can't put away her problems and get on with the IMPORTANT bleep."

"And what's the important bleep?" Lina asked, supplying the straight line. But admittedly, a bit curious..

"Survival," Drake explained, pouring out a measure into each cup of a nasty, brackish coffee. "Demiurge survival. You and I and Zo out there and all the others. You know what's goin' down?"

"Sairaag's hunting you," Lina said. "You, and me too. It's pretty obvious now, and yes, that's some pretty important... stuff. "

"Stuff goin' down all to usher in their shining 'age of reason'," Drake said, slinging back his drink. "Out with the old, in with the new. First they stomp the Mazoku flat at the North Pole, then spook the Dragons into hiding, now it's after us small fry. Figures they can't stand the competition."

Lina shook her head.. and took the drink, without being prompted. "There's got to be more to it than that. I don't know what yet, but... no, no. I'm getting sidetracked. One thing I don't get, though -- Sairaag's here for your head, and this is all you have left? I thought you were the 'God of Gangsters'."

"Faith's harder to find than gold," Drake explained. "When Sairaag came calling, they bribed away the gangs. I had a good balance goin' here, nuturing these kids, gettin' them ready to go into the world and be legends and then in swoops those bastards... givin' them all these fancy guns, big money, and gettin' them to swear alliegance to Sairaag. Where's the room for some legendary G like me in that? Pay a man enough and he won't believe in anything. This group, the first I founded, they're the last ones to stay with me. We been tricky, outwittin' the bastards left and right, but it's winding down. Motherbleepers took away all the faith I had left in the world..."

Lina's mind flashed a moment, hitting on the key notion, something that had been a nagging unknown...

"...Demiurges can't die, can they?" she asked. "But they can be DESTROYED, if someone works hard enough at it. Knocks out their invisible means of support. After all, poison the flock..."

"'an the shepherd doesn't have a reason to exist anymore," Drake finished. "That's part of it, alright. Sairaag knows how to wage a war on us, and they've just about won here. This is last ditch magic time, missy heroine. Hell, these few boys may not be enough -- and if the forces of science get me pinned, that's it."

"Zoamel said you types can't be shot to death," Lina said, her mind skipping over her own bullet wound just days before.

"They don't come after us with guns," Drake corrected. "I've seen 'em kill us before, with little gadgets, funny disk things. Take yo' ass out better than a bullet. But you gotta weaken us first, and girl, I am DAMN weak right now. I ain' fraid to admit that to you, even if you probably wanting to cap me right here and now, supposed nemesis and all that. I need any able bodied Demiurge I can get, folks at full power. Even that girl, Penny, she got spunk, she could make the difference too, for a mortal..."

"I see," Lina said. Because now she did.

The bandit killer downed her drink. The bandit king said nothing, his explanation out of the way. All that remained was a question neither felt like asking or answering just yet. Not until patience wore too thin.

Drake was the first to crack. "That's the deal. The whole deal, alright? So are you gonna be helpin' us or not, Lina? I won't hold you to Zo's deal if you want out. What's your choice?"

Lina twirled her cup, thinking. "Not having you in the world would make MY life a lot easier... but it could also weaken me, if you're right. What's Lina without bad guys to fight? But that's besides the point. I'm certainly not going to break a promise a bandit would hold true to, even if I never agreed to it. I'll stay. But we're GONE once this is over."

"That's the plan. I got no problems with that."

Lina cracked a smile. "Perfecto. And once I find out how the Tooth Fairy did it, I am OUT of the Demiurge business for good. I can't see how you guys live this way, if you can call it a life! Hey, do you have any munchies? I haven't had a proper meal all -- "

"So that's why you want to know," Drake said, in a voice quiet enough to be overpowered but fierce enough to cut Lina off at the pass.

"...well, yeah," Lina said, confused. "What, didn't Zoamel explain the quest to you?"

Drake stood, knocking his chair over in the process. Glared down at the smaller girl once, then waved her to silence. "I don' feel like talking to you right now. You get ready for the fight tomorrow and leave me alone. And like you said... you're GONE once this is over."

"...?" Lina asked, as the man swiftly but menacingly walked away, an interesting feat in itself. He swung open a side door that led further into the underground bunker, and it swung shut behind him only a second later.

The gang stared at Lina a bit, wondering what had set the boss off so bad, but a grumpy look from her was all it took to get them back to field stripping weapons and discussing their various sexual conquests.

Lina looked at the door the God of Gangsters had just passed through. "What's eating him NOW?" she wondered aloud.

But it really didn't matter. Things were clear cut here -- stick around, beat down Zel's hired army, get the information and bolt. Why should she care about another Demiurge, one of bandits for that matter, when she wasn't going to be a Demiurge for much longer anyway?

Why should she care?

All the world's a stage, and men and women are merely players.

But since the players tend not to return in a new hat every time they die, they've long recognized the advantage of setting the stage up with some nice props before a third act showdown. The antechamber, the primary floor of the warehouse that connected the front gates to the hidden stairwell of the hideout, would be the stage, and plenty of trap doors and stage explosions were in place. Literally.

The young boy stood on his rickety ladder, with a mouth full of screws, tightening a hinge on the ceiling trap. "Maffr," he mumbled, "Woff fey feef fiff af file ffafy?"

"Of course not, lad," his master said, consulting the building blueprint. "We're working with the pattern of tiles in the ceiling. No way they'll spot the trap. That's the key to a good deathtrap, making sure that it blends naturally into the scenery, lurking like a hidden predator. Then, the prey trips the invisible wire, and boom! No more invader. It's the combination, lad. A physical mechanism based on sound scientific principles to trigger the trap, and a stored blend of chemical explosives and magical enhancers to produce the flame jets. It cannot fail!"

The apprentice finished screwing the trap door in, and CAREFULLY placed the bundle of dry chemicals and powders on a small ledge, setting the trap. "..right, you said that before," the boy continued. "But I still think they'll spot this. That's not exactly 'invisible wire', it's just the fishing wire you stole from the Bass Lander's Guild -- "

"Appropriated, lad. We don't use the word steal. We are thaumatological scientists, those who accept that science and magic can work in varied and wonderful combinations, not ordinary brigands."

"Uh, sir, aren't we working for ordinary -- "

"Yes, well, needs be when the devil drives," the alchemist metaphored. "After all the money we spent on the dungeon, I have no intention of living on cheap sandwiches and cheaper inn rooms. It's not proper for a man of my status. Not for Lord Noisemaker, finest alchemist in the tri-city-state area!"

"Whatever," his apprentice grumbled. "Be nice if the finest alchemist in the tri-city-state area would climb a few of these damn ladders himself for a change -- "

And thus the master did strike the pupil with his staff, and the pupil became enlightened. Specially, he was now enlightened as to how hard the floor was.

A throat cleared itself.

Lord Noisemaker ignored it. "I wish you brigands would keep to yourself," he said, making another tally mark on his trap chart. "We're doing rather sensitive work here, and I don't need you barbarians setting these off before -- "

"We are here to help," Zoamel stated. He nudged the starry-eyed Penny to wake her from her little daydream. "This girl is an expert in crafting weapons and other things mechanical, and I know considerable magic. How can we assist you?"

'Wai! He thinks I'm a weaponsmithing expert!' Penny thought to herself, missing every word after that point.

Lord Noisemaker eyed the three. "Yes, well, you can start with the roof, where -- WHERE IN BLAZES DID YOU GET THAT TABLE?!!"

"Huh?" Penny asked, her little fantasy popping like a cheap balloon. She glanced to the Wandering Monster Table sitting on her shoulder, and smiled proudly. "Oh, this is Table-chan. Isn't he a cute little.. piece of furniture?"

The alchemist fumed better than one of his six chemical composition with bonded nuclei potions with optional artificial flavoring. He raised his staff with a knob on the end of it and shook it threateningly, at least, as threatening as a bearded, gnarled old man could. "That's MY blasted table! Are you the one who stole it?! Return my property immediately, or I will be forced to use force!!"

"Oh, bloody hell," the apprentice grumbled, and dove behind the box of explosives to take cover, which was probably not a bright thing to do, but he was young and not fully enlightened.

The table quivered in fear, and hid behind Penny's shoulder. She quickly took her pet table and cradled it protectively, like a mother hen with her chick. "Don't hurt Table-chan! I'm the one who's cared for him, and he likes me more!!"

The alchemist's staff flared with Combustible Yellow Dye No. 5. "I don't care if you've breastfed him! That table is thirty years of my work, and little girl thief, I have NO problems destroying anything between me and my -- "

Zoamel Gustav, Demiurge of Vengeance and Bishounen Cool got between him and his table. While not the world's largest man, he had a way of seeming to blot out the sun when need be. (Regardless of a lack of sun under this roof.)

"Er," Lord Noisemaker completed his threat with, having fallen completely in Zoamel's shadow.

"I'm afraid your table and the girl have grown very attached," Zoamel spoke softly, while carrying a big implied stick. "It would be a tragedy to separate them, one which could lead to a rather complicated and bloody quest for vengeance, the end result of which would be worse than what you did to Billy Snortwat in third circle chemistry class."

Lord Noisemaker paled visibly, and one hand reflexively protected the area in front of his crotch. "Not the cactus!! -- er, ah... well... yes, yes, you're quite right, then. I wouldn't want to break up a.. happy family. Yes. When you put it that way, sir."

"I believe we can complete these traps based on your plans," Zoamel pointed out, with a pleasant smile. "Thank you for assisting Drake in this matter. You will be rewarded -- "

"Ah, now, I was hoping for payment in advance, in case he doesn't survive to foot the bill -- "

"If he does not survive, then your traps would have failed, and we would not see just cause in paying for the defective labor. Which is probably simpler than paying you now, and having to find you and extract the payment plus interest after the fact. I'm sure you can understand the reasoning in my action..?"

Lord Noisemaker shoved the blueprints into Zoamel's waiting hand, and briskly began something between a jog and a flat sprint for the door. "Come, young apprentice! Our work here is finished!! COME!"

"But, but, um.." the kid stammered, looking from Zoamel to his master and back. He gave a helpless shrug, and bolted at equal speed.

Zoamel Gustav sighed, smiling. "It really is quite nice when people listen to reason, rather than resort to base violence. Now, Penn... y?"

The young Gabriev clutched her hands under her chin, and her eyes managed to glint every weak yet available light source in the room.

"That.. was.. SOOOO COOL!!!" she exclaimed, bouncing once or twice. The table also frolicked in joy, scampering around on the floor, doing a touchdown dance. "Wow! How'd you know about.. all that?"

Zoamel shrugged. "It just sort of comes to me. It is my area of expertise. Now, let's get these traps set. I will handle loading the magical explosives, you begin assembling trap doors. We must hurry."

"Right!" Penny said, brushing up a sleeve. "Let's get to work, Zoamel-chan!"

The god winced slightly, as the young girl hurredly set up the ladder under the next trap, and started disassembling the ceiling tile. He really had little clue what to do with someone who called you '-chan'. '-sama', now, that he was familiar with, but...

Morning was quite a few hours away, and Lina was intent on spending the time with things of the utmost importance. With firm determination, and a clear understanding of the dangers ahead, she decided she had no choice but to join a nearby poker game with the bandits and kill a few hours until nightfall.

It helped that most of the bandits, once they heard her name, tended not to want to bluff her out, or even to win against her. Every time one of them grinned at the winning hand he was dealt, a sharp look from the legendary Bandit Killer would have him immediately discarding three cards, if not folding directly.

The end result? Enough cash to feed Lina dinner for the next, oh, two or three days. She had trouble looking over the mammoth stack of chips, due to her short stature.

"HAH! Check it out!" she said, spreading her cards. "Two pair!"

One bandit looked at his full house, and quickly put his cards face down. "I lose again," he decided.

"Muwahahaa," Lina allowed herself to chuckle in a cliched manner, gathering in fresh chips. "So.. check with me on this. Why aren't you guys just running for the hills?"

"Snipers," the Left Hand Man of the gang replied. (Who was in fact named 'Lefty'.)

"But Zoamel and I can generate magic defenses to deflect the shots. You could easily bolt out of the city."

"Turf," the Right Hand Man of the gang replied. (Who was in fact named 'Dwayne'.) "This is our turf. We won't get run off it, not by any new gang."

"Hello? This is not a gang! This is the SAIRAAG ARMY!"

"An army's just a gang with more members," Lefty street-philosophized. "We're tight with Drake. He's gotten us out of more scrapes than I can count on six hands. He'll work things out."

"Why do you worship that guy, anyway?" Lina asked, spreading her cards. Pair of jacks, a sure winner. "He's not human, you know. He can't die like you guys can. Odds are in a hundred years he'll be the God of Dental Floss or something, anyway."

"We don't 'worship' Drake," Dwayne replied, anteing in. "It ain't like that. He's one of US. He's made us what we are, the best gang in the tri- city-state area -- "

"What an astounding accomplishment," Lina grumbled.

"At least we GOT some to be proud of," Left mumbled.

"...what was that, bandit?"

"You heard me," Lefty said, not backing down. He anted more, and drew a queen, to complete his straight. "What accomplishment YOU got? You kill bandits and give the money to yourself. At least that Hood guy from the stories gave to others. At least we give to ourselves, to feed our families. Oh yeah, Inverse, we all know about you. Violent, selfish, blowing up your own allies when you feel like it, and always lookin' out for number one. No letter 'I'nverse in Team. Drake was right about you. You ain't nothing to look up to."

"HEY!" Lina barked, tossing down a lot of her chips, to enter the pot. Everybody else IMMEDIATELY folded, and scooted their chairs a good three feet from the table. "What makes you say that? I've... I've saved the world, you know! That has to be charitable and selfless -- because if it wasn't for me, none of you idiots would be alive right now!"

Lefty stared her down, showing no fear. "Oh, you save the world for a living? What do you want, a medal? I don't buy that washed up bard tale crap. Drake was around in the bandit tribes when you were active, he told us the truth. Any time YOU saved the world was just so you wouldn't get killed, 'cause you didn't have any choice. Drake ain't like that at all. He'd take a bullet for any of us, and not just 'cause he can't die, he'd do it even if he could. He cares 'bout something other than himself. Call."

Lina opened her mouth to protest, before realizing the game was still on. She tossed down her cards. "Jacks," she said, DARING Lefty to beat it. "What do YOU have?"

Lefty spread his cards with one hand, and scooped most of Lina's loot into his own pile. "Straight. I beat you. For a change, you lose to a bandit, Lina Inverse. What're you gonna do about it?"

Lina kicked out her chair, to stand and loom, but her size actually made her a bit shorter. Instinctively, she thought about charging a fireball... then noticed.

All the bandits had gone from cowering in fear of her, to standing behind Lefty, en masse. Almost daring her to blow them up.

"Go ahead," Lefty dared her. "Blow us to hell and take the money all for yourself. It's what you do. The great legendary Lina Inverse, not some world savior or hero at heart, just another damn thief."

No witty comebacks sprang to mind. She stared, angered and humiliated in front of the group, trying to think of some way to save face and prove that she was.. what? That she was supposed to be feared? The great and terrible Lina Inverse, enemy of all who live, the ally killer, the dragon spooker?

Instead, she turned, and quickly left without a word. What else should she have done?

The blueprint was straightforward, simple, and well laid out. It clearly indicated the few traps the alchemist had installed, and did so in a very efficient manner.

Then Penny got her hands on it and it stopped being simple.

"Okay," she explained, pointing out the various chalk marks she'd made where her additions came into play. "We've got the Death From Above fireball chemical invisible wire springtraps from before, and these great collapsing supports by the doorframe that fall out of temporal stasis when they reach the middle of the room, and the second floor of the building that'll collapse into the first floor on command AS WELL AS the rolling boomerang fireball trick door that will carve an escape route under the nearby block and out into the street, then immediately dive into the waters of the bay to flood the building. Thus, all we have to do is wait for them to walk in, then we make a clean getaway!"

The dark god sat calmly next to Penny in the one safe area of the main antechamber, sipping some tea, and nodded along with her description. He mulled over her words, her enthusiasm, and so on.

If there was one thing a god such as he knew, it was war. Even in some of his less violent roles of the past, he had led people into battle over one issue or another. There are realizations one makes during such a long lifetime, that a 'green' human such as Penny had not.

Perhaps it was time for an object lesson. He studied the smiling girl, so seeking of his praise, and started to assemble the words he required. Words could be just as effective a weapon as any trap for catching someone off guard.

"So we make a clean getaway, while they all die," he pointed out.

"Um, yeah," Penny said, rolling up the blueprint. "Clever traps, huh? And all done with my mechanical know-how and your magic! What a combination! No army can stand up to us!"

"Technically, I do not use magic, but that explanation will do. So, once they are all dead, then what?"

"Then.. we win?" Penny suggested. "Sairaag's defeated and we leave to finish our quest."

"Except, of course, that Sairaag will not truly be defeated, and will likely send replacements immediately while Drake goes into hiding," Zoamel pointed out, calm as can be. "After which, everything begins anew."

"...yeah, but.. but we'll have stomped them!"

"Oh, yes. The traps will work brilliantly, and many will die."

"So we win!"

"No, we simply kill a few hundred people. 'Winning' takes more than that. You don't seem too concerned with their deaths, Penny. Why is that?"

Penny's grip on the blueprint tightened, as she squirmed in her seat. "Well.. because.. they're the enemy, aren't they? They want to get rid of Drake's gang and kill him and that's bad."

"And murdering them is the right thing to do, then?"

"Of course not!" Penny exclaimed, getting frustrated. "I didn't mean it was RIGHT -- "

"Thus, hundreds die, and for no reason, since the military will just resume, until everybody on one side or another is completely purged," Zoamel summarized. "Wars of this sort end with the conquest of one side or the other en masse. What we do here is amoral and tragic, and you will be one of the primary designers of the mass killing."

The young girl stared, perplexed, while the god explained the situation, explained how hopeless it was. Despair started to creep in over the pride she had in a unique mechanical puzzle she had just solved. "But.. but... we can't DO anything else! Because they'll kill us if we don't kill them first!"

"Ah," Zoamel said, smiling softly. He took Penny's hand, to try and calm the horrified girl. "And that's why we have to do it, Penny. That's the realization you need to have, to do this, to understand why. War is not right, is not good, but must be dealt with firmly. Tomorrow... people will die. It is unavoidable. All we can do is try to stay alive, and try to do what we can to minimize the loss. It is not 'right', but it is the correct way."

Penny's fog of confusion cleared slightly. She looked across the supposedly empty room, where all the traps were set. "Because.. if we do it this way, at least nobody in Drake's gang has to die?"

"That's correct. They will escape, momentarily without an army at their heels, and live another day. The war may go on, but the battle will be as clean as it can be. Our vengeance will not be wild and uncontrolled. I know you wanted to face the enemy with your.. blade, but that is not the way to approach this tactical situation. Too many would die in straight fighting. This is why I wanted your help on the traps. Do you understand now?"

Penny Gabriev took a deep breath, calming herself, after that. "Yeah. Yeah, I understand. I don't like it, though, not in THAT light."

"Nobody likes war," Zoamel stated, as it was the obvious. He rose from his seat, adjusting his clothes. "And I am sorry I had to introduce you to it this way, but there is no soft way to prepare for eventuality. We do as we must to survive. Demiurge or human. I just wanted to prepare you for this... because it may not have a happy ending. For now, you should go rest. It has been hours past, and there are fewer hours remaining than I would desire before the battle begins."

So, Penny tucked the print under one arm, and walked off to the sleeping area the gang had laid out. She smiled, all the way. Maybe she wasn't cut out for war, but Zoamel would see her through this. He was wise beyond her years, after all, and experienced; and everything she admired...

But her dreams were still troubled, with the faces of people dying. Faces she hopefully wouldn't see first hand, as she escaped thanks to her craftsmanship, and survived to fight another day.

Hours had passed since the poker game. Nobody in the gang would talk to Lina, after that, and it put her in a very foul mood. She got the instinctive impulse to blast the punks for looking at her funny, but resisted each time.

Think they were better than her, did they? Better than HER, Lina Inverse, adventuress, world savior (coincidental, but that didn't matter!) and living legend? She was a god! What were they!?

Lina kicked over an empty pile of boxes in disgust. (It actually was piled there so people COULD kick them over in disgust, which was a terrific way of keeping stress down in the workplace.) And what was this crap Drake was telling them about her life? Of course he'd paint her in a bad light, he was a BANDIT! The bandit of bandits! Grumble grumble mutter bitch growl kick stuff over bad mood grrrrr.

So, unable to sleep, she decided to get up and have what-for with this guy. She didn't get it; they seemed to be getting along fine, when they were planning this caper. Then he just turned on her for no reason at all! She'd GET that reason, even if it took red hot pokers to the crot --

Lina bumped face first into Drake's massive girth.

"Inverse," he acknowledged, stepping around her to get by in the hallway. But Lina blocked again. And again.

"OH, no you don't, pal," she taunted. "You and I are gonna have some words."

"Whaddya want? I've got an army to run here," Drake reminded her, backing off for now. "I don't got time for a bleeping washout like you."

"Who you callin' a washout, you dirty little -- "

"You," Drake said. "You. Runnin' away. Fleein' scared with your tail between your legs."

"I'm here fighting with you, aren't I?" Lina asked. "You'd think you could show some gratitude for that!"

"That's not what I mean," Drake said. "I mean.. oh, fine. You really wanna know? C'mere."

He put his meaty hand around her slim wrist, and half-dragged her into a stock room, away from the echoing hallway. Lina wrenched her hand free at the last second, twice as perturbed. "What's the meaning -- "

"What I MEAN," Drake explained, "Is you're runnin' away from what you are."

"And what's that, precisely?" Lina asked, leaning casually against a shelf full of rifle ammunition.

"You're a Demiurge," Drake said. "I don't care if you thought you was human once, you aren't now. You're a Demiurge, and believe it or not, you've got believers. If you turn tail like the Tooth Fairy did, that bleeping little piece of bleep, that all goes away, you understand?"

"So?" Lina asked, not seeing it.

"SO? So that means nobody believes in Lina Inverse anymore!" Drake spat. "One of us goes away.. turncoats like the fairy, gets wiped by Sairaag, whatever... that's it. Everybody who believed in you stops believin'. Why you think kids don't put teeth under their pillows anymore?"

"Zoamel explained all this to me already."

"Then you know that everybody who looks up to Lina Inverse, everybody who sees you as some holy rollin' force of revenge and profit and high adventure, they all lose the magic," Drake continued. "They lose that dream. You don't come for them anymore, you don't quest, you turn on them. And they get on with their lives, barely remembering what they saw in you. Nobody comes to rob the rich, nobody comes to save someone who calls your name. You LOSE YOUR FLOCK! It's hard enough to get followers, to nourish them and support them and make their lives better through your role, but to cut them loose just because.. because you're BLEEPIN' SELFISH is a bleeping insult to those of us tryin' to stay alive out here!"

Lina did wince a little, at that. But why wince? She didn't care about any of those...

Penny.

Penny definitely believed in her. It wasn't 'worship of a god', exactly, but there was a spirit there. If not for her, maybe Penny wouldn't want to go out and be an adventuress. She'd be content to sit around at home, and count money from customers, like her mother. Lina Gabriev was everything Lina Inverse was not, and with no Lina Inverse, who would Penny have modeled her life after? If Lina became human, would Penny still take up the poorly chipped blade on a stick and go after fun and profit?

"You seein' now?" Drake asked, watching Lina's expression play out. "It'll happen, Inverse. You go away, and something gets sucked out of the world in your passing. Maybe a little, maybe a lot, but somethin' that means somethin' to people. No Demiurge wants to do that, wants to screw over the people who believe. God don't wake up one day and tell his people, 'You're all wasting your time and I'm leaving.' Ceipheed wouldn't tell that to the few people left hoping for his salvation, or the dragons under his wing. If -- "

"Okay, okay," Lina interrupted. "No need to get all melodramatic on the monologue. I see what you mean. But what about me? I HAD a 'human' life. Maybe it wasn't MINE, but it was mine, in other ways. My friends, all of them, even Gou... it's not like you guys were human, right?"

Drake considered that, and slowly shook his head. "Naw. Most of us raised out of the primitive tribes, before man even knew how to bleepin' write. Changin' with the times, livin' the roles. Some newbies, though..."

"I've got a human memory," Lina said, tapping her head. "Human feelings. I want to be ME. I'm not.. I wasn't cut out for this role, and I don't know why I have it. I've got to get out or I'll go stir crazy."

"I'll admit... that don't make sense to me," Drake said, mellowing somewhat after his tirade. "I never heard of a Demiurge based on a human, not this completely. Sometimes you get legendary people, but they's just Demiurges who grew into the role after losing a previous one, like Zoamel."

"It's absolutely nuts, being a Demiurge who thinks she's human," Lina pointed out. "And that's why I've got to change. I can't get used to this. You promised to tell us where the Tooth Fairy is, right? You swore."

"...yeah, I did. I don't break my word. But I still don't like what you tryin' to do. It ain't right."

"Then I'm sorry if you don't like my reasons," Lina said, a bit sarcastic in tone, "But they're mine and you're going to help. I promised to help your rag-tag group with all the magic I can muster, too, and I'll do just -- "

"You don't use magic," Drake said, matter of factly.

"Ah? Yes, yes I do. I'm pretty well known for it, in fact."

"Lina Inverse was. YOU ain't. You're using your nature."

"My what?"

"Your nature," Drake repeated, sick of repeating things. "Demiurge nature. Your power to shape the world, fueled by belief. Demiurge also means 'creator of the world', and that's what we bleepin' do, day in day out. Maybe not raisin' mountains unless the situation calls for it but we leave ripples. What you call magic? That's just you tappin' your abilities and sayin' funny words."

"Soooo... I'm not REALLY using black magic, based on the demon king Shaburanigdo or anything... I'm just remembering how spells work and doing them on instinct?" Lina guessed.

"Hey, good call," Drake said, with a wide grin. "Maybe make a good Demiurge out of you yet. Probably that human memory, it knows 'Lina does magic', so bam, you LOOK like you do your bleepin' bibbity bobbity bleepin' bleep boo just like you always did."

"Er.. what else would I do?" Lina asked, confused. (Also with her ears starting to turn red from all the cursing.)

"Whatever people believe you can do," Drake said, with a shrug. "Ain't it obvious? You are the legendary Lina, not the human Lina Inverse. If people think you can turn mountains into molehills, you can."

"But I could always do that."

"Exactly. See?"

Lina closed her eyes. If she could do whatever Lina Inverse could SUPPOSEDLY do....

Her mind span, just for a brief moment. She didn't control it, it just happened, instinct, nature. It touched down on a very scared pastry chef somewhere on the other side of the world, where she had stomped through during her quest with Filia. He frequently had nightmares about an orange haired sorceress who could summon food from the very air and devour it to satiate her endless hunger...

She opened her eyes, and tapped 'magic power', as she always did. Then spoke the chaos words that formed the spell.

"CREATE FOOD!!"

A turkey leg fell into her hand, steaming and juicy.

Suddenly, being a god for all of eternity didn't look so bad. Her eyes glazed over in absolute bliss, as they reflected the perfection of roasted bird, spawned into being by her will alone. Lina went to take a bite...

...and her teeth clacked together, catching nothing.

"...'course.. generally, your power only works FOR your flock," Drake said, with a bleep eating grin that stretched from ear to ear, as Lina's food proved less than substantial. "After all, we exist to serve them as their gods, not to make ourselves dinner. But hey, you wanna go give that to Penny, maybe she'd want it..."

Lina sighed, and tossed the drumstick she couldn't even chew away in disgust. "I hate being a god," she decided.

Drake glanced at his clockwork pocket watch, tracking the complex gears and tick marks. "It's bleepin' late. You tired?"

Fatigue immediately hit Lina like the Aquatic Mongoose at full speed, right when Lina was reminded of the time. "Yeah... guess I better get some sleep -- "

"You don't gotta," Drake said, pocketing the watch. "Demiurges don't need to sleep. Just resist it."

Lina rubbed her eyes. "Yeah? Easier said than done. How do you propose that, just whisk the sleep away?"

"Sure. All you gotta do is realize the truth."

"The truth?" Lina asked.

"There is no spoon," Drake said, with utmost mystery.

Lina stared at him with drooping eyes and a slack jaw.

"....what the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't know, just some bleep Zoamel came up with couple centuries back when we got drunk in a restaurant and couldn't pay the bill," Drake said. "Whatever. Go get some sleep. In the mornin'... it's war."

Morning rose over Darata, as it would any other city. It wasn't a particularly memorable sunrise, no extra gusto, no ominous darkness before the dawn. Business as usual was the modus of the day.

Zelgadis stood at the window, watching the warehouse with his binoculars. He twisted a dial for the focus, and added a filter to cut out the glare of the dawning sun. In a few minutes, he'd lead a hundred-odd poorly trained bandits to their grisly demise so he could eliminate one man. Which was also business as usual, and not particularly worrying for him.

Except...

"Looks straightforward to me," Roy Balderdash said, with little to no enthusiasm for the job. "Just send the boys in, wait for the slaughter to die down and we can peg the target while pinned. It's a dead end in there, after all."

"He's escaped from the last four dead ends," Zelgadis reminded. "But I'm not worried about Drake right now. I don't like that some demiurge posing as Lina Inverse is involved in this. If she is anything like the true Lina Inverse.. was, then we have a variable factor I don't care for."

"I don't care if she's the real Lina or not," Roy grumbled. "I OWE her for the humiliation she's dumped on me. It's a geas of honor, can't be helped. You go after our boy, I claim Lina. Besides.. you're going to want my limited magic if you're not going to lift a mystic finger to help us -- "

"I don't do that any more," Zelgadis snapped, voice like iced over frozen crystallized water with jagged pointy bits on it. "If you insist on using the powers of those would-be tyrants Shaburanigdo and Ceipheed, go right ahead. I doubt you'll survive this encounter anyway."

Roy twirled his sword once or twice, before sheathing it. "You don't know Balderdashes very well, then. We're persistent little bastards. Considering you're shacking up with one, I'm surprised you haven't realized that by -- "

"I'm going in," Zelgadis decided, setting the binoculars down.

"About time. You want me to lead the boys down there for the first wave of cannon fodder?"

"No," Zelgadis said. "I'm going alone."

"It'll be a glorious funeral," Roy mused, pleased by the thought.

The 'young' chimera slung his gunblade around to his back, and looked around the room, while explaining himself. "Lina Inverse changes this whole situation. This is not a war of two poorly trained, unsophisticated and expendable forces anymore. It's a war of methodologies. They are in a dead end, but that dead end has only one visible door, and that is the one they will expect us to use -- since to burrow underground or create any other entrance would be immediately spotted, blowing the element of surprise, and giving them time to prepare..."

"Get to the point," Roy spat, leaning on the wall. "I'm not getting any younger."

"Lina is expecting the stupid bandits to run right through the front door," Zelgadis concluded. "Right where there she's set plenty of traps, while she uses some magical trick to get out of an inescapable dead end. Therefore, I'll have to deliver an action she is not expecting, something that few people have tried to do -- because it is not... 'dramatically appropriate.'"

"Aaaand that would be, boss?"

Zelgadis found what we has looking for; a compact black box, with various warning signs painted all over it. He lifted the hundred pound object with effortless ease.

"I'm simply going to kill them all," he stated.

The next morning, the scene was one of a one-sided gunfight. The bandits were huddled around behind overturned furniture, weapons loaded, cocked and ready. Everybody was aimed in one direction, since it was the only direction they COULD enter from. Assuming anyone survived the journey between the door and the central compound.

There was one problem. Hours had gone by, and nobody had entered.

"We should've put some kinda visual link to the antechamber," Drake muttered. "If I'd just brought some mirrors and wire we could have rigged up a sweet -- "

"We have no scrying spells or spying equipment, and wanting them now will not change that," Zoamel whispered, crouched right next to him behind a sofa. "Therefore, to worry about them is a waste of energy. We will hear them just fine when the traps go off, and you know our hearing is fine enough to detect if they try to approach through the ground. We will have the jump on them, one way or the other."

"My traps won't fail," Penny said proudly, crouched right next to Zoamel. "This war will be over without so much as a shot fired!"

Lina, however, took a more casual approach to war. She sat back, totally open to any crossfire that wasn't coming, and sipped a mug of really nasty coffee.

"That's really boring," she said. "I still say I fly out there, put up a shield to stop their stupid little bullets and just trash everything. Then we'd see a little action!"

Drake glared back at her. "You stayin' HERE, Inverse. We need your 'magic' in case things get tight. Besides, I may not be the most civic minded guy, but I don't like the idea of you blastin' the bleep out of my city like some trigger happy little -- "

"Wait!" Penny said, waving her arms to shush them. "...did you hear that? It was really really faint, but I think someone's out there..."

"A twang," Zoamel confirmed, cocking one ear to the entrance of the chamber. "One of our tripwires. It's started. We should be hearing the explosions any second now."

Nothing blew up. Lina couldn't hear anything at all, but from the reactions on Drake and Zoamel's face, things weren't good. Whenever a Demiurge shows concerned confusion, it's time to get nervous.

"The hell is going on out there?" Lina asked, getting up from her seat, dumping the black muck out of her mug. "Something's going down and we're all sitting on our duffs. I don't like it. I'm gonna take a look."

"Lina, wait!!" Penny protested, but it didn't do much to stop Inverse, who was already weaving nonchalantly around the rows of furniture, past the incredulous looks of gangsters accustomed to face to face duck and shooting fights...

She ignored Drake's hushed shouts, and stepped up the stairs, to poke her head out into the antechamber. The huge, deceptively empty antichamber, where nobody stood.

Zelgadis was in fact standing just in the doorway, on his way out. A string of expertly disabled traps connected his steps from the entrance to the middle of the room, where he had left a large black box, with a single flashing sign that read 'ARMED'.

Lina stared at it in confusion, then looked up to Zelgadis, her look asking a question that he never answered. There was no rant, no nyahaha, no explanation -- the chimera simply nodded once, in confirmation, and stepped into a waiting Ornithopter, which flew off quickly.

Her pulse raced. She knew on some innate level that this was very, very bad...

She turned around, to shout down the stairs at the nervous bandit gang. "Guys!! There's something -- "

Hell erupted.

So this is it, part of Lina thought, as a white-hot chemical fire enveloped her completely, moving in slow motion like liquid agony. Clothing and skin boiling away into vapor. I'm going to die. Not only am I dying, but I'm dying in a rather stupid way. Some legend she'd turned out to be.

No, wait, that's not right, another part of her said, as the flames rushed past her, down the stairs, flooding the room... I'm a legend, aren't I? A Demiurge. Drake explained it to me. I don't sleep, I don't really need to eat, and I can't die like this. There is no spoon, or fork, or goblet or whatever. So I simply won't die.

It was a strange sensation. For moments, there she was, standing in the wake of the fire, where ordinary people would be long dead. She didn't feel anything in particular. Not numbness, not heat, not pain, just as if the fire wasn't really there. Her clothes, which had started to flare and boil away, reformed themselves at the speed of thought.

Every single trap in the room went off at once. She watched in queer fascination, as the balls of potent energy dropped from the ceiling, as the 'escape' trick screwed itself up, knocked askew by the initial blast, and carved up through the roof instead. The whole scenario took less than five seconds from burn up to flare out and silence, when all the oxygen in the antechamber was gone, but it felt like five minutes to her expanded senses.

On the sixth minute/second, she had a thought: Penny was down there. That snapped her back to the here and now faster than a broken rubber band.

She dove through the dying flames, literally flying down the steps instead of jumping, and skidded -- slipped -- to a halt in the blackened, melted room.

Everything was gone. All the bandits were little more than a charred red paste, the furniture ashes. The fire had swept through perfectly, just as intended, to flush out the room of all life.

White flash-shadows hung on the far wall, outlining the forms of Drake and Zoamel, who were completely unharmed, but definitely not happy campers.

"MOTHERBLEEPER!!" Drake screamed, snapping a fresh pair of pistols into his hands using his innate powers over war. "Cowardly little bleeping godbleep bleeping mother -- "

"Lina, quickly!" Zoamel shouted, waving her over.. having to release his arm to do it, which was wrapped around Penny, as he had shielded her as much as he could with his body.

Lina just.. appeared right next to Zoamel, not stopping to think about how, and studied Penny.

It was awful. Burns covered her skin, her clothing shredded, as her breathing was slowing. The Wandering Monster Table, being made of stone and thus fireproof, was bouncing up and down in a fury of worry. (In some queer twist of logic, her poorly made staff had escaped with only slight smoke damage.)

Lina rubbed her hands together. "White magic isn't my forte..."

"Then find someone who believes that it is," Zoamel replied, with speed.

...arcing outward, to a distant country she had passed through once with Naga, where a little boy had skinned his knee and she applied a little healing magic (in return for directions to the Sacred Dungeon of Golden Idols) and how that little boy grew to believe in the strange savior with powerful healing ability who saved his life, blown completely out of proportion in the way only a small child can...

A rush hit Lina, as she started to work, pouring the white magic-like feeling into Penny's body. Not flowing fast enough, but not drying up, at least. All she needed was a few minutes --

"Whaddya know, a few people survived! Go figure."

Lina turned quickly.. to see Roy Balderdash, bouncing his sword lightly against his shoulder as he framed the door, with a thundering horde of armed bandits behind him. Zelgadis stood to the side, content to watch for now.

Drake turned.. and stood as he turned, an uncoiling, like a snake poised to strike. "Stick with Penny," he commanded, without looking at Lina, his gaze locked dead onto Roy.

"So you're the infamous Drake that Zelgadis keeps going on about?" Roy asked, drawing his sword, waving for the army to hang back. "Not much. But bandits outside Zeifelia rarely impress me. You're too soft."

"And you got that sword off a merchant who had nothing left on his back but food for his family and toys for the holidays," Drake spoke, each word like venom. "All when you had food in your belly. Who's soft, Roy Cornelius Balderdash? The thief who takes or the bandit who prospers?"

Roy's face went a dead pale. His sword hand shook, as his eyes trailed off the edge of the blade, and back to Drake. "How.. how did you -- "

"This is pointless," Zelgadis warned, fingering an object palmed to his hand...

"I want to know how you knew that!!" Roy asked, shaking his sword at Drake. "You from his family? You want revenge? I was young! I thought I was being a hardass -- "

"Everything you steal, every enemy you conquer, every prize you take, you take in my name," Drake spoke, not going for his guns, but laying on a voice like lead from the heavens. Cold, factual menace, like a dark god would. "Don't you recognize me, Roy? I'm your maker. I'm the bandit of bandits. You feel it in your bones, that call, the quest for power and money and survival. You can't kill what you are. You can't attack me. You know I'm the only one who truly gives a damn about you, with all his heart. Not yo mamma, definitely not your sister. Me."

Roy's knees weakened in an instant, falling to them, the sword dropping. He had no idea who this strange man was. But he KNEW who this strange man was, like a memory in the back of his mind every day of his career as a bandit...

He wasn't able to raise his hand to his ideal.

Zelgadis was.

"Kill them," he commanded quietly. And the army streamed into the room, waving their guns, ready to swamp en-masse.

Lina didn't fight. How could she? She was too busy closing Penny's wounds, regenerating her burns, healing her. It was like the explosion... things happened around her, and she watched, in some strange detached fashion as the new state of being flowed through her, and into Penny.

It was a gun battle, for starters. Drake was fast, though; he was the very definition of the two gun mojo, and mowed down his former believers faster than a scythe over wheat. Bullets ricocheted and bounced, but for some reason, never hit Lina or Penny. (Was Lina doing that? No, she wasn't doing that, not even as a Demiurge. Neither were Zoamel or Drake. But she tried really hard not to think about HOW it was happening...)

Seconds later, Zoamel was into it. The normally peaceful and reserved gentleman let out a war cry that only a god of wrath could, and the monster was there; the mask of Zoamel Gustav sliding into place, like rubber over skin, arms and tendrils growing. It was time to take that vengeance his believers had sent him for.

THAT sent half the army trying to get back through the jammed door, while the other half got cut down, tossed around, pounded against the walls in a variety of awkward ways.

It was just as much a slaughter to their forces as the first attack had been to Drake's forces. But somehow, through the chaos and confusion, Zelgadis stood with absolute calm.. his eyes fixed on Lina. Waiting for the right moment.

It came, when Drake blasted a few clear of the line of sight connecting the Demiurge of Bandit Killers with the Chimera of Demiurge Killers. Zelgadis snapped his wrist immediately, flinging out... a strange white disc, with a dull purple cross embossed on either side. It cracked with purple energy as it shot through the air, having nothing to stop it from getting to Lina, Lina too busy to react fast enough to it...

Drake was fast enough.

"LINA!" he shouted, to try and get her attention, as he dove sideways, firing at Zelgadis with one hand, while he tried to slap the disc out of its flight path with his other gun... trying VERY carefully not to touch it with his actual body...

It didn't work.

Drake went down hard, skidding across the floor and into a wall, as the white disc clamped down hard onto his hand, making him drop the gun. Purple lightning sparked all over his body, as he screamed in pain. A god in pain.

Zoamel reverted immediately to his human form, and ran to his friend's aid -- the bandits just ran for it. The room was near empty in short time.

"STAY BACK!" Drake shouted, in warning. "You touch this thing you'll -- GH! Go too!"

Lina glanced at Penny.. who was healed ENOUGH for now, in her opinion. She set her down as softly as she could, and also gathered to see what was going on. "What the hell is going on?", in fact, was her specific request.

Drake's body was.. vanishing. Almost all of his true followers were gone now, and weakened, he couldn't do anything to stop it. The disc continued to erase his being, a danger Lina couldn't bring herself to face to knock the disc away -- something deep down spoke of impossible danger, and restrained her.

".. he's.. he's in Atlas City," Drake grimaced, through teeth grinding to powder. "Ask for him there. Zo.. sorry, my man. I bleeped up..."

With a final groan, he gave out, and vanished. The purple sparks hovered in a Drake-like shape for a moment, before the disc snapped back across the room, into Zelgadis's waiting hand.

The two sides faced off, in silent loathing of each other, just for a moment. Zelgadis did hold the key to killing Zoamel and Lina, and nobody was about to trigger that off.

"My mission is complete," Zelgadis stated, breaking the silence. "This is all that I require. Roy?"

"...?" the catatonic bandit asked, as he had been shoved off against a wall in the fray.

Zelgadis tapped a small metal box at his waist. It gave a steam hiss, and a circular black portal opened in space, against all known laws of physics. "We're leaving," he said, without bothering to address Lina or Zoamel. He grasped Roy's tunic, and yanked him in after. The portal closed immediately.

The room was then silent.

The ancient spirit of vengeance clenched one hand. But that was all the emotion he showed, as he watched the space Zelgadis occupied with cold dispassion.

"What's going on?"

Both turned back, to see Penny, who had woken up right when the show ended.

"Did I miss something?" she asked. "Jeez, everything hurts... where did everybody go? Did they escape? Did we win?"

"...you didn't miss anything," Lina decided, getting to her feet. A look of determination on her face. "And we were just leaving, anyway. You know of a fast way to get to Atlas city, Penny?"

Penny rubbed her forehead, looking at the empty, blackened room with a bit of befuddlement. "Uh, yeah..."

"Then we're leaving," Lina said. She stepped her way to the soot- covered stairs, and exited.

The young Gabriev turned to Zoamel, hoping for some sort of an explanation.

"I warned you this may not have a happy ending," he reminded.

Two blocks away, a figure stepped out of shadows, figuring this was a safe enough distance. Then he coughed up a quart of blood. A raven fluttered out of shadow behind him, and perched on his staff.

"...I have to say," Xelloss commented, through the choking. "I rather dislike the taste of lead."

"CAWWW!!"

"You know I couldn't have stopped that Eradicator," Xelloss snapped, while trying to plug various wounds in his body with his fingers. "I'm simply delighted I managed to redirect all those bullets so Lina wouldn't be holey rather than holy. I'm not sure if she could have survived them, after blowing so much of her self. She really has to learn to conserve."

The bird fluttered angrily, pecking -- until Xelloss simply grabbed the avian in his fist, bird in hand, looking quite peeved.

"YOU are no longer in charge of anything, Beastmaster Zelas," he reminded. "I run this mission. I dictate the flow of it, when we act, what we do. Your squeaky little voice annoys me. Your throne at Wolf Pack Island is shattered, and I don't feel like taking your orders. Be silent, unless you WANT me to leave you behind next time, to live on dead flesh and never again to have four proper limbs."

The bird made absolutely no noise, and rustled no feathers.

The Mazoku smiled.

"Much better," he decided. "Now, be a good little bird and go find me someone who I can scare to death. I need some energy. Oy vey, what a day."

The end of another long day. Business as usual.

Zelgadis hung his gunblade up by the bedpost, and took off his boots. Roy Balderdash had, as predicted, been useless. The army was also useless, aside from a distraction. His plan, however, was a success.

He knew how to deal with Lina Inverse, or some cheap copy thereof. If he met with her again... and he would, eventually, as all the Demiurges needed to be purged to allow for the modern age... he had no concerns about containing her.

The door chimed. Elizabeth entered. He gave his report, she wrote it down, and that was the end, except for one small thing.

"I'll need to recharge your Eradicator," she stated. "It's probably quite drained at this point."

Zelgadis nodded and handed it over. Nothing strange about that.

"Get some sleep," Elizabeth suggested. "We have a few days until our next campaign. Perhaps we can spend them with each other, instead of with paperwork. Would you like that?"

"Yes, I would," Zelgadis responded, quite plainly. "Until then."

A long, long road winds between Darata and Zeifelia.

To travel it by horse takes an absurd amount of time, but on a captain's salary, it was all he could manage. Besides, Penny had lifted her trust fund before running away from home.

But one way or another, he'd catch up with her, and bring her back home. Besides, if he didn't, Lina would KILL him.

The fortress in Sairaag is basically a large machine. It has mechanical doors, mechanical heat regulation, mechanical view screens and mathematical tools and all sorts of other widgets and scientific feats.

Powering all this is a core. It's kept in the basement, since it's really of no interest in the face of all the automatic doors and air conditioners and so on. A sleepy guy monitors it, but it doesn't need monitoring.

Elizabeth walked right by the guard, who slept right through the click of her heels on the pitted metal floor. She fingered the Eradicator, turned it the appropriate direction, and slipped it into a slot on the very front of Sairaag's power core.

Purple sparks flew from the slot; energy was transferred. Satisfied, the machine spat the disc back into her hand, the cross no longer glowing as brightly as it had before.

The scientist smiled, a rare gesture on her behalf, and stroked the cold metal of the core.

"Soon," she whispered. "Very soon. It will be your era."

Author's Note

I don't like this one very much, and it took too long to write. But I had to get through it, to get to the good stuff lying up ahead. Pardon any perceived mess.

Book 5   |   Fanfiction