Alabaster Almuz was filled with nothing but ulterior motives once he became aware that Nero was still alive, setting the town on fire, and killing his suppliers.

Out of the goodness of his heart, Almuz called his former employer, offering his services. The people were in danger! Only a seasoned officer such as himself could help protect the defenseless citizens of Atlaan from a nude maniac on the loose!

Peter Forthright turned three shades lighter when he saw no one other than Alabaster himself arrive at the Atlaan Police Department, in his old Captain’s uniform, everyone clapping, cheering, inviting a shark into their waters.

Forthright did not want him there, Alabaster usurping his throne, wearing the same uniform, everyone still referring to him by his former title, when Forthright was the one in charge.

It added insult to injury when one of Forthright’s employees in the corner said that it was so nice to have real leadership for once.

Forthright moved through the crowd of happy police officers, for once not crowding the same area for Doughnut Thursdays, and shook Almuz’s hand. He brought him close and whispered into his ear that he needed to speak with him alone.

“Yes, just follow me to my office,” Almuz said with a laugh.

Everyone laughed, and Forthright forced a smile, trying to be a team player, following Almuz to his office, and slammed the door behind him. He shuttered the blinds, locked the door, and turned to face Almuz, who sat at Forthright’s desk, smiling and playing coy.

“Why the fuck are you here,” Forthright whispered. “Haven’t you done enough? ”

“I haven’t done enough for the people of Atlaan, Peter. You—”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Forthright hissed. “Don’t. ”

Forthright rushed up to the desk, slammed it, shaking the picture of his mother to the floor, the frame cracking, letting his anger get the best of him. His eyes changed color again, and all the metal in the room crunched, squished by some evil, invisible, malignant hand.

The file cabinet crumpled, papers slid out. The radio exploded, and the phone collapsed. Almuz gently placed his hand on Forthright’s, solidifying the bottom of his fingertips into sharpened gemstones, the silent threat deafening.

“You should control your anger. They all look up to you in my absence,” Almuz said.

“I know you’re working together with Acheus,” Forthright whispered. “You were always so friendly with him when he worked here.”

“Because he looks like my nephew, and he was a very outgoing man,” Almuz replied. “The witch hunt against him is absolutely shameful. ”

The new piece of information confused him because it made no sense. The only likeliness Ace held to anyone, was everyone’s friendly neighborhood arsonist, Nero, and neither looked anything close to Almuz.

Forthright attempted to pull his hand away, but the stones dug into his skin, latching on, and he stopped, once the pain tore through his right hand, the crystals curving, latching into his skin. Almuz’s eyes turned into bright red gemstones, glowing in the dark, sinking into his face, and he smiled, dark golden teeth replacing his pearly whites.

“You’re working together with them to destroy the town, aren’t you,” Forthright asked.

“No, no. I want to find the culprit as much as you do, ” Almuz said, his voice now gravelly and deep. “He’s a living weapon. Imagine the possibilities.”

Forthright grunted when the stones receded back into Almuz’s hand, blood smeared over both of their hands, and now he crystalized the tip of his index finger, into one, very, tiny, sharpened stalagmite.

He carved various shapes into the desk, chuckling while Forthright nursed his hand, backing away towards the door.

“All astrals with dangerous abilities are living weapons. He needs to be put down, not captured,” Forthright replied. “I don’t have any proof but—”

“Exactly. You have no proof. I will get him back into my arms, loving every part of him, ” Almuz moaned. “So wrong of me to throw him away when he had so much potential. ”

“No wonder he’s a monster. You’re one too,” Forthright shouted.

He left, slamming the door behind him, and everyone gasped, blood all over his hands, wiping it all over the walls, throwing desks, crunching computers and lamps with a flick of his wrist.

People attempted to hold him down, but Forthright punched whoever got close, causing havoc in the station, ranting and raving on his way out.

“You want real leadership,” Forthright screamed. “You can have him! I’m done! ”

With the words done, every electronic crumpled on the ground floor, sparks flying. Almuz emerged from his office, announcing that they wouldn’t live in fear any longer.

“Your obsession with Acheus is worrying all of us,” Almuz said.

“I am going to prove to everyone what you are! I know you’re a plant for the cartels,” Forthright screamed. “I know it!”

No one believed him because of his tantrums and frustration. His hair wasn’t done, he hadn’t brushed his teeth nor shaved, his eyes bloodshot and face bruised from his previous fight with Nero.

They all whispered, a few of them reaching for their tasers and guns, and Forthright saw the pitying looks.

“By the time you know it will be too late,” Forthright said. “I’ll show you!”

On his way out of the building, he tore off a hiring poster, pushed down an umbrella rack, and screamed at a very confused citizen who came in to make a noise complaint.