Ravela sat in her windowless car with all her belongings from the motel. Relocating to another motel a bit further outside the city gave her mind time to work. That was not a good thing, she realized while standing at another red light.

 

‘It doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t concern me. I have enough on my plate already.’ She was hard at work convincing herself that she need not put her spoon in every pot on the stove. Her current goal was ambitious enough, and getting sidetracked now that things were moving forward wouldn’t help her.

 

On the horizon loomed the possibility of the Bomber getting bolder and causing civilian casualties. Ravela could leave the man to his bloody work for now, but she would have to take care of that man eventually. He posed a much too volatile threat, and taking him down was necessary.

 

Pulling into the new motel’s parking lot, she pinched the bridges of her nose. “Or maybe I should stop him before he makes the criminals desperate enough to run amok in broad daylight.” She took a long look in her crack rearview mirror. Contemplating, if not intervening, would dramatically change the course and trajectory of events.

 

A deep sigh escaped her, and with a heavy heart, she took her things and stepped out of the car. The neon sign of the motel illuminated the mostly deserted parking lot.

 

“Warden’s Path Motel,” She muttered slowly, digesting the mouthfeel of the name. “You’ll do, I guess.”

 

Turning from the sign, she felt her neck muscles tense a little. Ravela stretched her neck with a bit of a frown on her face. Approaching the hotel, she didn’t notice the sign’s lights flickering as parts of it went dark for a moment. She also didn’t notice her true form reflection not mimicking her movement, watching her intently, studying the motel sign with a sly grin. 

 

Ravela reached the door and suddenly felt a shiver crawl down her spine. She stood frozen, eyes searching the mirrored glass door for a threat. Unable to find what she was seeking, she slowly turned as though she had forgotten something in her car, with a bit of theatrics. Her gaze was not on the car while walking back to the parking lot. The motel windows were dark, and nobody watched her from there. The brush on the opposite side of the road? Empty. ‘Maybe I am just too damn tired.’ She couldn’t find anyone spying or planning to assault her, so she slowly returned to the motel’s front door and walked in. Behind her, the motel's sign stayed defective for a while longer.

 

War Path Motel, it spelled out for a moment longer before, with the closing of the front door, the letters restored to full functionality. It was as though it never happened.

 

_________________________________________________________

 

Morbolfr stood outside the police tape and observed the scene before him quietly. Through his mind went a whole host of calculations. This shipment of their special drug was a year’s worth of production. He imagined a battlefield before him. Standing as a general over the battlefield afforded him a better understanding of what this hit meant for their war.

 

Behind him, two of his men stood guard. Though they weren’t the only ones on the scene, they were the first in line. His protection had to come second to a much graver concern. Family over self wasn’t just any slogan. It was what kept the clans alive and prospering.

 

“Go to the bar and tell Wergr’s and Nor’s men that our supplies have been cut off. They need to talk to their bosses on how to proceed.” Morbolfr fell into a short contemplative pause. “Tell our men that from now on, they should retreat when confronted by the Bomber or this Michael Menace. If they fight the rivals, they shouldn’t use the substance either. They need to be smart. We are without supply, and this has now become a siege.”

 

He waited till the first man was gone before he turned to his other bodyguard. “Go and inform Mr. Kordo of the current situation so that he may take his own measures.” Mustering the still young man, he added. “And remember to show him the utmost respect, will you?”

 

The man left without a fuss, and the reserves replaced the two missing bodyguards a moment later.

 

Morbolfr’s plan was unfolding smoothly until the Bomber showed up. The situation began to destabilize, and though he ran a tight ship, there was no telling how this war would go if they lost their trump card while being attacked from two to three sides.

 

It was not as he had foreseen, not as he had planned. Morbolfr would have to change his plans, or his Clan might not survive to earn the spoils of his grand machinations.

 

He turned away from the scene and checked on the four small viles in his suit jacket with a thoughtful hum. Morbolfr had a feeling that he’d need them sooner rather than later.

 

_________________________________________________________

 

Ravela picked up her car from the auto shop she had dropped off on her way to the police academy. To their credit, they had fixed the car’s windows just as they promised.

 

On her way back home, her finger kept tapping the steering wheel. Her mind kept wandering back to the explosion of last night. If she didn’t stop the Bomber, he would cause more casualties, and while her heart didn’t exactly bleed for the criminals he was disposing of, his actions became more reckless.

 

It looked like Michael Manus would go on another adventure after all. This time, she’d have to serve the Bomber to the police on a platter. If possible, Ravela hoped that getting caught would put an end to his crusade, lest he wished to kill a bunch of police officers. There was a possibility that he would do that, and Ravela prepared herself to put him down if it came to that more gruesome scenario.

 

Coming home, she went straight to the barn and began changing clothes. Equipping Michael’s clothes and one of the revolvers, she put on his ring. Looking back at the car, she considered whether she should drive into town in it or play it safe by running the short distance. It wasn’t like running; jumping back would take her much effort. It would also be detrimental to be seen, stopped, or chased in Ramiel’s car. Ramiel Roice needed no such attention.

 

The way back to Pliada City had her ponder how best to get the Bomber while making a good time towards the city. It was surprisingly easier and faster than driving her car. On second thought, it was not surprising at all. Naturally, jumping the straight line and ignoring the traffic lights at her velocity was way more fun than checking the side and rearview mirror all the time. She arrived in the city shortly and oriented herself toward the city center, but on her way, Ravela stopped on a roof, seeing an unexpected motorcade. Her sudden stop was not ideal, so she quickly relocated a bit higher to a suitable perch where she could be on the lookout for massive explosions.

 

She ended up sitting in the central temple’s tower, looking down at the city below. Her eyes wandered over the skyline from the shadow of the tower’s top. Ravela hoped today wouldn’t be the day some clown rang the bell behind her.

 

Shaking her head, she returned to scanning the city beneath. While waiting for the uncertain explosion, Ravela watched the people below going about their day. She noticed the convoy of cars from earlier arrive at a restaurant called The Safe House. Out streamed a bunch of Swaddy gangsters grouping around what Ravela speculated to be their boss. It didn’t take long for another such motorcade to arrive once the first one left the scene. The group was smaller but filed into the Safe House much more orderly.

 

Ravela’s attention was now glued to the restaurant. If that wasn’t a disaster in the making, she had no idea what was. Suddenly, the picture of the burning pharmacy truck came to her mind.

 

“What if…” Ravela whispered, studying the surrounding roofs and streets below. The third motorcade arrived, and Morbolfr stepped out, followed by just four men. She could appreciate the confidence the man had in himself.

 

She sat down on the edge of the tower side overlooking The Safe House. The mobsters had her undivided attention. It was almost dinnertime, and though the streets were clearing out noticeably, the pedestrians weren’t gone yet.

 

Ravela settled in for a long observation. The Bomber probably wouldn’t show up before later in the night.

 

After about an hour, she saw herself proven wrong as the Bomber in his metal mask appeared in the side alley adjacent to The Safe House. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Ravela was about to move when a lone motorcycle approached the curb near the restaurant. The man on it had a towering appearance; she could tell even from her alleviated vantage point. The Bomber reacted by melting a bit into the shadows upon hearing the motorcycle's approach. Sure enough, the man walked inside, ignoring the weird looks of the pedestrians.

 

Ravela decided that the time to attack was now. Pulling out her revolver, she aimed at the Bomber, who was currently looking for the right spot in the wall to breach. She knew he could tank one hit at least, so she aimed for his torso and waited for him to stand still.

 

The world seemed to slow down, the city's noise ebbing away as she focussed. The shot rang out in a violent, strange noise that turned every head and flooded the street below in a short-lived but harsh and threatening red light.

 

She jumped to the street below and made her way to her prey sprawled in the side alley. The Bomber was reeling from the unexpected hit. Her approach was a careful one. Ravela wouldn’t forget about the danger the man posed if he got to hit her directly with his ability. She began layering shield upon invisible shield to her front. Her opponent seemed somewhat preoccupied with the pain and severely dented armor. Noticing her, the Bomber rolled over, and she could see his attempt to muster a counter-offensive. In the blink of an eye, she unleashed another shot from her gun, hammering him with another shot to the already dented armor.

 

The Bomber slid through the alley from the impact. Ravela followed him a bit faster now. “Please, stop it. You’re embarrassing yourself. I believe this is checkmate.”

 

A wheezing Bomber grunted. “Why are you protecting them?”

 

“I am not protecting them. I am stopping you. That is a difference. Also, if you didn’t want me to kick your ass, why destroy my car?” Ravela stated bluntly.

 

Blue and red lights began flashing on the street just outside the alley. Ravela was happy that the police were already on the scene. “Let’s face it, you’re too reckless to roam the streets. Wouldn’t have been long before you detonated a school or burned down a mall to kill one criminal.”

 

She pulled up the Bomber and pushed him against the wall, placing the revolver near his torso. “Tell me that you will stop when they put you in prison. Tell me that you can stop.”

 

The response from the Bomber was a pained yet defiant growl.

 

“That is truly a shame.” Her finger on the trigger twitched, and just as she pulled it back, she saw a small light emit from the mouth hole on his mask and a shadow falling behind her.

 

The hand holding the Bomber slid up to his face mask, pressing the impending attack from following her dodge. She pulled her head to the side and strengthened her shielding.

 

Something made contact with the shielding on the back of her head, and the world slowed down. ‘Huh!?’ Was the last thing Ravela thought, realizing she had made a grave mistake. The world slowed once again as the layers broke, and she felt the knuckles of a hand hit the back of her head.

 

And the world went dark.

 

_________________________________________________________

 

Morbolfr and the other guests in the Safe House reacted to the shot outside in unison. Most made their way out the front door with the two Clan leaders and Mr. Kordo, who, in opposition to the others, seemed not at all in a hurry. At the same time, Morbolfr stayed behind without his four bodyguards.

 

He made his way out of the dining room and entered the kitchen just as the brick wall broke and catapulted two people into the room. They blew right past him as he stood in the doorframe.

 

Morbolfr uncertainly reached into his jacket. Considering if he should use one of his remaining doses right now. He looked through the hole in the wall where the two figures had vanished.

 

On the floor lay Michael Menace, evidently unconscious. A bit further down the hallway lay the thorn in his side. His mask had come off, and Morbolfr saw his face. He knew him! That changed everything. His mind began racing through the possibilities. He could use this.

 

Looking back toward the hole the two had burst through, Morbolfr spotted the one, and only Major Buster called here by the Clans in expectation of the Bomber's attack.

 

A deranged grin appeared on Morbolfr's face. “Guess we’re having another change of plans.” He declared to the triple knockout in front of him.

 

Looking back toward the Bomber, he saw the man reaching for his mask, and Morbolfr took this as his cue to exit the stage to the left in a hurry. The grin on his face wouldn’t come off. Who knew today would turn out to be quite so profitable?

 

His bodyguards were grouped with some police officers, and he flagged them down. “Boys, it is time to go home. Let the fine officers handle this from here on out.” He walked past Beorg Wergr and Marduk Nors and nodded at them while leaving. They’d understand that things were done here in Morbolfr’s opinion. Of course, they could stay, but he was sure they’d get the message.

 

“Mr. Krone, I believe we still have some questions for you. If you’d be so kind.” A woman’s voice called out for him.

 

He turned back. “Agent…?”

 

“Delemere,” The federal agent supplied helpfully.

 

“I believe I have fully fulfilled my duty by getting you within arms reach of the man running amok in this city. If you have any further questions, you may direct them to my office. If you’ll excuse us now, I’ll overlook you endangering civilians by having them held so close to a murderer with an…” He paused, looking for a word with the right weight to it. “ethnic inclination to his victims. Good night, Agent Delemere.”

 

He left without further challenge.