Chapter Twelve: A Fitting Nest for a Demon

After spending a few minutes just relishing in the victory he had managed to scrape together for and with the help of his allies, Richard knew he had to follow up on his actions, and so, after ensuring that everyone in the group, including Claire, was content enough with their current situation, Richard motioned to Dan to let the others rest while he ensured the area was secure, and went to see how the city was reacting to the breakout.

While this was indeed something he planned to do, Richard also wanted to go over the events of the breakout with Voltaire, and, if possible, his uncle. Hence, after being assured by Dan that no one would bother Claire, Richard jumped out of the summer guesthouse's window, dashed until he was sure he was out of everyone's sight, and then contacted Voltaire privately.

Hearing that his childhood friend was just about to get home, Richard and Greymont "de-fused", and Richard put his inanimate armor into a large gray suitcase, to pass it off as luggage. After dunking in the ocean to refresh himself, the third prince and Greymont returned to the Joachim Manor.

Despite his efforts to pass the wound he got from Doctor Salinger's energy-infused scalpel off as his just "tripping on the rocks near the water", the manor staff worried about his wound; Richard let the female servant, Sherry, give him some medical gel to lessen the pain and speed up the healing of his injury.

Voltaire wasn't long in coming home. Immediately upon his arrival, the two of them —plus Greymont— exchanged formalities for the staff, then retreated back into the sound-proof study once again. Inside and secure, they began to go over what had happened the night before; naturally, Richard had far more to say than the red-haired man.

"Well…" Voltaire said once all was finished, leaning back a bit more in his chair and sipping a cup of coffee. "I can't say I'm too excited about the 'extra passenger'. You realize that, even if she's not innately nuttier than trail mix, that spending that long under that kind of torture for so many years probably snapped her mind like a dry cracker?"

Richard took a much larger swallow of his own coffee, having a hard time keeping his eyes open by now. "To be honest, she did look a bit wild after what she did to the doctor…. I'll keep an eye on her. If she really is a hacker, though, she might end up being more useful than Dan's gang, you know. She says she's out for revenge, but, so long as our goals coincide, I think we can trust her."

"'Mutual exploitation' is the proper phrase, Richard." Voltaire smiled. "Just keep her away from my family's business accounts. This ended a bit better than I thought it would; from the sound of it, things ended up going pretty smooth with these gang members…but, more than that, no officials have needed to cross through the gates of Rycroft in years—they just counted on those in charge to handle things.

"After this, though? They're going to have the place overrun, investigating you and everywhere you've been. I doubt they'll be able to overlook half the stuff you saw in there, especially as Dr. Salinger is in no shape to stop them. I said there were rumors, but it looks like he went more off the deep end than anyone expected; even a city this corrupt isn't going to ignore that mess."

Richard frowned and stared at a spot on the floor as he tightened his fists. "…I'll be honest, Voltaire: last night, there were times I forgot about 'the big picture' altogether, and just thought about wanting to see that psychopath put down. If Father and Uncle Nathan don't have the place condemned after this, then I'm going to start wondering how much of the Aurino Republic is still around to save…" He looked back up. "Speaking of which, does Uncle know what we did?"

"Not quite." Voltaire smirked. "I did talk to him last night, during your little gang initiation, but the only thing I said was that we had a possible lead, and there was more info to follow. Things went a little fast after that, you know. Probably wouldn't be such a bad idea to call him up…."

Richard gave a nod of agreement. After turning to set his coffee cup down on the end table, he began to look around for that transmitter he received…when he was beaten to it: vibrations and a set of little noises came from his pocket.

He blinked, and realized it was the device he had gotten from Nathan. He wasn't silly enough to leave it lying around anywhere, after all—not even in the Joachim manor.

Voltaire looked up a bit. "Huh. His ears must have been burning."

"The room's secure, right?"

"Richard, do you think I would have been calmly listening to you describe to me, at length, the numerous felonies you've committed today if I wasn't sure the room was secure?"

The young man grimaced, but finished pulling the transmitter out. As Greymont's tail began to wag excitedly at the new device, he pressed the main power button on the transmitter. A small lens on top glowed green momentarily before projecting a six-inch beam into the air, which immediately refracted and spread out in a fashion similar to the holographic display back in the Centrum—only this time, a miniature Nathan Zilos appeared, instead of a map. He seemed a bit confused about whether or not his device was working, but after blinking a few times and looking around, seemingly aware not only of Richard but also of Voltaire, he gave a nod.

"Ah, good…I can see both of you; guess the transmission is coming in…." His digitized voice came out of the device. "Glad to see you again, Richard."

"Same here, Uncle." The young man smiled back. "How are you? How's the search going? Have you been able to do anything yet?"

"A few little things, here and there," the man responded, pausing to smirk a bit. "Certainly not anything so shocking as breaking into an asylum."

At once, Richard's smile turned to shock; he looked like a student who had been thinking about how he had pulled off cheating on an exam, only to have his professor confront him with it. Voltaire looked up a bit as well, but focused mostly on Richard.

Immediately, he shook his head and rolled his eyes, knowing that if Richard had intended to have any sort of 'poker face' to deny that accusation, he had already totally blown it.

Nathan let out a laugh at the expression on Richard's face. "Why so surprised? Thought it would take your old uncle a little longer to put things together, eh? Well, I have to admit I was taking a bit of a stab at it…but the reports say an 'armored demon' who 'shrugs off attacks', wielding a 'sword that cuts steel', and who just 'vanishes into thin air'—and right after Voltaire tells me you have a 'potential lead'? Sounds a lot like Greymont's armor, Auro Solais, and a good warp spell, if you ask me. Not just anyone can pull off warping magic, you know, even if they studied. I daresay I know of everyone in Los Midas capable of carrying out such a feat…."

That made Richard swallow a bit, his own face paling. "Does…does that mean the police have already—"

"Oh, no need to worry about that," Nathan answered as he rubbed his beard. "Like I said, I wasn't positive until I threw out that bit of bait that you went for. And I know something the authorities don't; namely, that you're alive to begin with. Though, based on what I heard…frankly, I'm shocked, Richard." His arms crossed and his voice dropped. "You seemed to grasp the need to 'lay low' during all of this —granted, it seems you took my advice about masking your identity a little better to heart— but this could have gone very, very wrong.

"I'm still in a bit of confusion about the whole thing…actually donning a costume and engaging in one of the more overt acts of civil disobedience I've ever encountered? Smashing your way out of a prison facility, of all the places? Didn't you think this was being just a tad careless? Even if your identity is safe for now, you can bet that more than a few people are now muttering about an armored man with the visage of a demon.

"It does little to conceal one identity only to make another as public as possible. And for what purpose? What exactly were you hoping to get from all of that, Richard? I understand Los Midas has some corruption issues with law enforcement, but I don't really see how storming an asylum for the criminally insane helps things there or back in Articos…."

Richard sighed and put his hand up in a stopping gesture. "Uncle, I know this looks pretty bad, but I had a reason for it. I'll admit some of it kind of just came together over a really short time period, but…." He sighed. "Look, it's a long story."

Nathan shrugged. "I have plenty of time before my next meeting, so, by all means…entertain me with the sordid details."

The prince swallowed a little at that, but gave a nod and began.

Over the next few minutes, Richard explained everything that had happened since the other night's Electro Ball game; how he'd stumbled across the setup by 'Dickberry', of Dan's gang, and Mr. Simpson; how he'd adopted the Requiem alter-ego on the fly to save the bulk of them; how he'd concluded with Voltaire that the gang might prove to be useful agents; how he'd met with Dan, and had made an agreement to rescue his friends from the asylum to secure his help; and how it had gone from there.

He also made explicit note of how his priorities changed slightly once he was in there, going into detail about all the disturbing sights and activities he had seen, the meeting with Claire de la Lune and her explanation of the place, and how he had ended up determined to put an end to Dr. Salinger's experiments.

"That place was rotten to the core," Richard concluded. "A bunch of crooked cops were using it to make people disappear and cover up their own rackets, and Salinger was using it as his own personal chemistry set, with everyone who went in, guilty or innocent, as raw materials. I couldn't just turn my back on it and pretend it wasn't happening; I've seen too much of that going on lately…."

Nathan's own look had grown more thoughtful and troubled by this point. He resumed stroking his beard and formed a pensive look as he thought this over for a few moments. "As reckless and dangerous as I think your actions were, Richard…I'm not sure I can blame you, even without hearing all of that; after all, I told you to look for allies, didn't I? And rumors of the practices of Rycroft Asylum reached all the way to the capitol; in all honesty, we knew that Dr. Abe Salinger and his cohorts weren't treating patients in the most humane way."

Richard's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak.

Nathan quickly halted him. "I know, I know—you're probably wanting to ask me why we didn't shut it down earlier. The fact is, the legal system wouldn't allow us to. The ones who gave the reports were inmates and the more severely insane, and they were unreliable witnesses as a result.

"The less-afflicted patients reported receiving good care during evaluations; not only that, but the local officials praised the institution and its staff—their words against the words of the inmates, Richard. The only thing we could do was accuse Mayor Tyson and half the city council of being paid hush money, and we would have failed, because the accusations would have been baseless, save for the reports of a few already-convicted criminals, who had everything to gain from a lawsuit and nothing to lose.

"That said…this place sounds like it was more of a dungeon than a hospital; just because an individual is mentally ill or a criminal doesn't give anyone the excuse to declare their mind their own personal property to do with as they please.

"Not only do I feel you may have done the right thing for the wrong reason, Richard, you may have inadvertently shaken the government here out of stagnation, to actually do something positive for a change…."

Richard's face turned hopeful. "Does that mean you can convince Father to close the place down?"

"Your incident has provided the perfect excuse to investigate the area, and I'm sure that, with that kind of physical evidence, there'll be no problem gathering enough to condemn it," Nathan answered, his voice turning a bit sharper. "And while Los Midas may enjoy some level of autonomy, this blatant disregard for human dignity and bastardization of legal practice isn't something that can be ignored so lightly.

"Your father might be acting more irrationally these days, but if there's any shred of my brother and the man you knew in there, then I'm positive he'll never allow such a corrupt institution in a time of peace. And if you feel you can trust these 'Hammer Wolves', then I think they've proven their usefulness to you."

The prince smiled a bit more at that: while he was moving into a phase of his life where he was doing things more or less independently, he still enjoyed getting the approval from his uncle about this. Especially when it ended up doing something that the legal system had needed to but could not, or affected his republic into making a positive change, rather than another land-grab….

"Just one thing," Nathan continued. "I advise you to give these men and women an idea of what they're getting into before you invest too much trust in them. I understand you may need to keep some secrets, but it's one thing to commit to a pledge, another to end up going through with it to the end after you find out what it entails."

His gaze leveled a bit more.

"And that goes for you as well, Richard. You're operating outside the law —outside the 'rules', so to speak— now. You know full well at this point that even when Magna Centurions do their jobs there are a great deal of consequences. It's so much more so now that you're following your own path.

"Consider what you just did: you freed one of the highest-level security inmates at Rycroft Asylum—not ended her pain, or simply put a stop to her tormenter's actions; you actually freed her and brought her into your fold. And you did so while following her advice and shorting out the maximum-security settings of that facility. In short, you took an awful risk with potentially dangerous —potentially lethal— consequences, all on the spur of the moment."

Richard didn't like that look or that tone. It made him shift a bit where he sat. He moistened his lips. "Well…yeah…when you put it that way…but, luckily, no one else got off the island, though."

Nathan's look remained hard and silent; Voltaire grimaced a bit as he bowed his head, adjusting his tie a little, and Greymont merely looked around in confusion. Richard himself soon blanched, looking from Nathan to Voltaire.

"I mean… right?"

Voltaire raised a hand to his mouth and coughed, composing himself a little.

"Richard…about that…" he said quietly, "…the fact of the matter is, Dan's group was 'off the record', so they probably wouldn't have reported too much on this normally—except…" He cleared his throat and scratched his neck a bit.

Now the young man felt very uncomfortable. "Except what?"

"…except, during the frenzy your stunt made, NES reported that another group of inmates —who were probably hoping something like what we did would happen for months— seized the opportunity, hijacked a transport, and got away while most of the cops were looking for you or trying to block your way out." He gestured a bit in the air. "This one detective in the force, Detective Starling, came on the news, talking all about it."

The young man turned white. His mouth loosened, but he couldn't say a word for a few moments. When he did speak, he felt himself trembling.

"That's…not possible. We didn't see anyone follow us…."

"Well, you couldn't be everywhere, could you?" Voltaire sighed. "Could've happened before you guys broke for the exit, or after…. I don't know. All I know is, you said you disabled some of the security, and, well…" He again bowed his head and rubbed his chin a bit. "…they say they broke out of the Intensive Ward."

Richard said no more. His heart was sinking like a stone; he felt like he wanted to throw up. A number of nightmarish possibilities came to mind—what kind of people escaped from the prison? Petty thieves? Gangsters? Or something a lot worse, like the genuinely criminally insane? Murderers? Serial killers, perhaps? He thought he had been so clever and quick, and that the only ones who could have gotten out were members of the 'vegetable bin', but he should have known all along that, if someone like Claire had been waiting on pins and needles for this chance, there had to be more like her, wanting the same thing…. He thought he was executing justice last night…but what if what he had done amounted to terrorism? How many people were going to die as a result of this? Every time he thought he was acting like a hero, his "good" actions just seemed to leave even larger negative ripples….

The reaction wasn't lost on Nathan; he took a deep breath. "Richard…there's no need to assume the worst at this point," he said more evenly. "Was this something that you shouldn't have overlooked? Yes. But it's over and done with now, and there's no need to assume the worst outcome yet.

"Recall that you only escaped due to the use of the warp spell; I doubt these inmates had that same luxury, and I'm sure they'll be recaptured soon. Perhaps they were more benign individuals. Recall also that those two gang members were only guilty of disorderly conduct and street brawling, and yet they were on the same floor as the rest of the high-level prisoners; these might have been even more innocent than that. Besides, if you hadn't acted as you did, the very people you had gone to save would be dead now; perhaps more than just those two individuals."

Richard exhaled and looked back to the hologram. "And what if what I did end up causing the death of some innocent people, Uncle?"

"Sadly, your brothers are right about one thing, Richard," the old man grimly replied. "In a battle situation, you don't really have time to worry about anything besides 'your side'.

"You had an abrupt change in plans; you needed to adapt quickly, and you did the best you could. It happens all the time; it's the chaos of the battlefield. And like I said, the only thing you can do now is keep it in mind, because all the worrying in the world won't undo it. This is one situation you'll definitely just have to wait to see unfold."

He straightened slightly.

"Besides, I don't know what kind of people got out of Rycroft as a result of this, Richard…but I know for a fact that one madman who would have continued to hurt and murder a great number of innocent people was stopped as a direct result of this.

"From what you told me, Salinger had gone utterly mad; he'd become as evil as the killers he treated. And with limitless autonomy on that island, he would have only continued in that fashion. That makes him the 'worse threat', and he was neutralized."

The young man continued to look downcast, but, as his uncle's words sank in, he slowly felt himself loosen up. He supposed he was right: Salinger had definitely needed to be stopped, and even if some people escaped, he knew he had saved a lot more people who didn't deserve to be in there, as well as exposed a heavy amount of police corruption. And who knew? They might be arresting that other group right now. He'd just have to try to be aware of more things from now on, and hope for the best for now…. After a minute or so, he finally seemed to relax more.

Realizing he had settled down, Nathan continued in a different tone. "All right. So, my next big concern is what you plan to do now."

Richard exhaled. "Well, it might be a bit of a thin link, but as it's the only one I've got to go on right now, we're going to try and track this Raszkowski down, and get him to talk. See what we can turn up."

Nathan chuckled. "I guessed that, Richard; my question referred to what you plan to do with your new comrades. Your identity may have been concealed, but, even with masks, it sounds like there were corrupted law officials you've encountered since that Electro Ball game who know who they are, or at least have enough of an idea that they can find out.

"The police seemed to be ready to do away with them in the basement of that parking garage for trumped-up charges; after what just happened, I find it hard to believe someone isn't trying to watch their homes. Do you plan to have them all hide out in Voltaire's guest house?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Voltaire immediately interjected with an uncomfortable look. "One friend is one thing, but a dozen or so will raise questions. And, to be honest…" He turned that look to Richard. "…a few people around here have asked me when you plan on leaving, Richard. It might be best if you find a place you can have to yourself."

The prince tensed once again: he had forgotten about that—this whole arrangement was only supposed to be temporary in the first place. Of course, with no money and no other connections, he wasn't exactly sure how far he could get. He definitely couldn't buy or rent anyplace in the city; it would create a paper trail. He shrugged. "Well, all right, but where else could I go? I don't suppose your family owns any hotels I could hole up in, do they?"

"Richard, if you're going to operate outside the law on a routine basis," Nathan interjected, "then I think you're going to need a place a little less public than a hotel suite."

The young man shrugged. "Maybe, but it's not like there's a bunch of abandoned military bases or police stations in Los Midas for rent or lease."

"No, but I have an idea that's not too far off." Nathan grinned. "Voltaire, are you aware of the Valro Caverns?"

The red-haired man frowned. "I'm aware of the radiation-drenched remains of a city district," he cynically answered. "I'm not sure how that'd be any use."

"You're not really suggesting there, are you, Uncle?" Richard blinked. "Staying too long in there would kill anyone."

"Why?" Greymont spoke up. "What's wrong with them, Boss?"

"The Valro Caverns, or the Valro Burrow —a bit of a macabre pun the reporters made— are what remains of a former borough of Los Midas from fifty years back," Voltaire answered. "The city was falling apart —still mostly a demilitarized zone— so in an attempt to inject new life into the city, they set up this new sector, an area called the Valro Borough, all around this new power plant design they had. Unfortunately, there was a meltdown in the reactor, supposedly, and it caused the plant to blow up; it took most of that section of the city with it."

"This was pre-Kaisonite; back when human were still using the dirtier, cruder energy you could get from radioactive materials," Richard added. "It left a real toxic mess behind—stuff that's basically invisible, but can kill you really quickly, because it starts mutating and killing off cells all throughout your body. And some of it lasts tens, hundreds, even thousands of years or longer before it dies down enough to be safe."

"So, naturally, even after the fires died down, the place had so much radiation left behind, you'd be a dead man after five minutes standing in the middle of the square," the red-haired man continued. "The only reason the whole city didn't get irradiated was because the blast was strong enough to send most of that part of the city underground —I'm sure you both are already fully aware we have quite the cave network around here— and a bunch of local wizards in the area cast a huge Typhoon Seal to throw back the radiation, all of Los Midas might currently be a wasteland.

"At any rate, the only part of it that's 'safe' is the front of the caves, and that's 'safe' in the most liberal sense of the word; you get too far in without a radiation suit or protection spell, and you'll be dead before you know it."

"So, I'm kind of wondering exactly why I would want to move in there," Richard ended, throwing the conversation back to Nathan.

"Techniques in cleaning up radioactive materials have come a long way in fifty years, as have the spells to deal with them," Nathan answered. "To be honest, these caverns likely could have been cleaned up years ago with some of the advancements; there was simply little desire to do so.

The building development had already been a proverbial and literal money-pit, and there weren't any investors willing to put more into it, especially since it would require repairing the caverns as well to build on top of them once again; no chance for a return on the investment, so to speak.

"In any case, Richard, I believe over the course of your studies you were introduced to the Typhoon Seal spell, yes?"

The young man thought a moment, then nodded. "Yeah—a type of intense purification spell, right? Creates an energy substrate and magical gale for things to adhere to; you said it was something like a 'cosmic dirt magnet', only for things like poisons, impurities, and the like."

"Well, if you could get your hands on a Contamination Gourd, and had enough focus to cast a few of those, you could collect a great deal of the radioactive material, and dispose of it as need be," Nathan answered. "I'm not saying go on a detox mission for every nook and cranny of the entire cavern; just enough for your purposes. Probably in a spot that can't be seen from the surface, and big enough to allow some breathing room."

Richard looked rather uncomfortable at the suggestion. "Um…Uncle, there's no way I can do that effectively unless I can get close enough to where it can poison me, and I don't have any sort of radiation suit, or know any such wards."

"You have Greymont, don't you?"

The dragon stammered in shock, flying into view of the hologram. "Hang on just a second! —What if this radiation stuff gets into me? I don't know exactly what it is, but it sounds bad if it kills the cells in your body!"

Voltaire, however, seemed to be leaning into Nathan's suggestion; he simply shrugged. "Dragons are supposed to have been immune to most poisons, if not all. The only reason that the Dragoncide Plague worked was because it was custom-tailored and magically imbued to key on dragon DNA.

"At the bare minimum, you should completely stop the bigger and nastier particles. Not too sure about the little ones …uh, 'gamma rays', or something… but you'll probably block most of those, and we can always use a Toxic Cleansing spell for the rest—I can pull off that one, if need be. Still…" He looked towards Richard. "…it's true the only way we'll find out is to try. I can get you a Containment Gourd, though, no problem—our hazmat personnel have some of those in stock for plant emergencies."

"I'll admit, there's a risk, Richard," Nathan added, "but it should be possible. I would not propose the idea without thinking you could do it safely. You will have to be careful, but with a Containment Gourd, you should be able to safely seal all the radiation away in a swift enough manner. And, if you did pull this off, it would have the virtue of being a place no one would think to look, and if they did think of it, no one would go there without knowing you were hidden there."

Richard honestly still felt more than a little nervous about the radiation, especially since it didn't seem to be clear whether or not Greymont would indeed protect him, or even be totally safe himself. Still, he supposed, if it ended up being something they couldn't manage, he could just pull out, use the Toxic Cleansing spell, and come up with a new plan. Nathan was right about one thing: if he pulled this off, no one would think to look for him there….

"Well…I guess I could give it a shot, at least. It might be a good place if it does work out, after all," he finally admitted. "I guess the only other issue is if I can get the rest of my new comrades to follow me to live in a former toxic waste pit…."

"Perhaps your first order of business should be seeing if they will follow you, period," Voltaire answered. "You did kind of already give them what they wanted out of the deal."

"After how much Boss helped them, if they have any decency they'll at least hear the boss out, right?" Greymont asked as he flapped back over to the armrest on Richard's chair.

"Yeah, that's the whole trick, isn't it…" the red-haired man muttered.

"To be honest, I think Dan's willing to go on a little faith." Richard shrugged as he put his hands together. "Claire might be too, seeing how she has nowhere else to go. The guys I was on the mission with seemed decent enough. Of course…" He sighed. "…I've been wrong before."

"Knowing little about them other than what you've told me, I'd say, if they were willing to trust you this far, you might be able to expect at least a little out of them," Nathan responded. He eyed Richard's companion afterward. "On your side, Voltaire? Don't be so quick to dismiss the loyalty of an individual simply because they're of a less-than-clean background; from what I've heard, loyalty and honor among comrades seems to be something this gang prides above all else." He looked back to Richard. "If you asked my advice, I'd say the deciding factors will be whether they share your passions and can see your point of view."

"I guess I should be happy the latest work I've got cut out for me doesn't involve break-ins or beating people up," Richard commented. "Anyways…how are Mom and the others doing? I'd like to end this conversation talking about something that won't make-or-break me…"

---

The ear-piercing scream shattered the fragile calm of the house, easily resounding through every floor of it. Even though Tony was shut up in one of the side rooms with two of the gang members pinning him down, the noise still resounded. Dan snapped up in alarm at it: even after hearing it for so many hours, each new scream was so intense that it unsettled him. He had never heard a man cry out like that before.

Zach had been in the middle of getting a glass of water from the kitchen sink; the cup slipped and fell out of his grip, smashing in the sink. He swore and grumbled as he moved to clean it up. He began to mutter curses about the whole thing.

As for Claire, who was reclined on one of the couches in the den with Alphonse lying nearby, rather like a pet tiger, she let out a groan and rolled her eyes. "Damn it, is he ever going to shut up? He's going to get the neighbors calling a noise violation on this joint, and I didn't bust out of a nuthouse just to hear more damn screaming…. Hey! Hey, you!"

Dan, at the moment, was staring tensely to the closed door of the floor's bedroom; worry lined his face. On hearing himself referred to as "hey, you", though, he frowned a bit before crossly looking back to the emaciated woman.

"What's the matter with him? His buddy get whacked and he couldn't take it?"

"First off, the name is 'Dan'," the gang leader retorted. "Second, my guys don't break down that easily; Doc back there threw some magic toxic gas, and now he and Eloy are seeing nightmares. We're hoping it wears off, because we sure as hell can't take him to a hospital."

This caused the woman to look up a bit more, her eyes registering realization. A moment later, she groaned and rolled her eyes. "Well, why didn't you say that from the start? Could've saved us all some trouble…."

"I did say so before. More than once. Not my fault you weren't paying attention, girl." Dan punctuated that last one to give her a dose of her own medicine. The woman rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored this, and looked to her Jaeger Cog. "Alphonse, you still have some of that antidote stored, right?"

The robot's head immediately raised. "I still have four doses loaded, Master Claire."

Muttering at once again being called the wrong thing, she pointed, then asked, "Can you fix those two, so they'll shut up already?"

"Affirmative. Two should be sufficient; uploading request now."

Dan's own harsh look dimmed a bit as he looked up, watching the Jaeger Cog as it got up and went straight to the door to the closed room. At once, it raised a metal paw to operate the door controls. Zach was also watching this, and immediately protested. "Hey, wait a second! What're you trying to do them, girl?"

"I'm 'trying' to cure them of Salinger's spell," she retorted. "That serum's the only stuff that'll do it; it's magic-based, and they'll never clear it out of their system otherwise." She gestured to the robot. "Alphonse was a guard dog at the Asylum; he was programmed to give these sorts of remedial injections, in case the wrong patient or a staff member got something. You don't like it, have it your way: let them scream until they have heart attacks—that'll shut 'em up, too."

Zach looked to Dan. The gang leader stared a bit, his face still showing his displeasure clearly, but he had a feeling she wasn't lying about this—as much as he hated her attitude, he realized she had good reason to tell the truth. Finally, he gave a silent nod. At the same time, he formed a fist, pushed himself up from the recliner he was seated in, and walked over to the door, opening it up himself for the Jaeger Cog.

As soon as it was open, the machine walked in. The other gang members inside, seeing it approach, started to react, but he put out a hand to stop them. He had to verbally tell them to quit a moment later, when Alphonse went up to Tony and held up a paw, and a needle deployed from one of his clawed digits, then filled with a blue liquid. Once it was cleared, Alphonse positioned the paw above Tony's arm, then drove it in and injected the serum.

Immediately, Tony went rigid and his eyes bulged, and for a moment Dan thought the worst, as his friend broke out into louder and more pained screams than before, but Tony suddenly stopped, held for a second, and then slumped, his eyes finally closing as he fell unconscious.

Even so, Dan had his boys check his friend before letting the Garou-type drone go on to Eloy; it turned out that the unconscious man was still breathing and had a pulse, and actually looked relaxed at last. He let the robot do the same to the other. As soon as it was finished, the Jaeger Cog returned to its master's side.

Dan followed behind soon after. His cross look had faded a bit, and he managed a small relieved smile. "I guess you were straight on that…." He walked back to the chair a few more steps, then paused. "Thanks," he managed to add.

The woman shrugged. "After what your boss did for me, it was the least I could do. They'll be up in a couple hours."

The gang leader stifled a grimace at the mention of his "boss" as he sat back down.

"So…" she went on, "…you're hardly the first group to get their boys locked up in Rycroft. What made you crazy enough to for a jailbreak?"

"I don't leave my boys hanging," Dan answered simply. "As for our 'boss', he ain't our boss. Requiem, or whatever he calls himself, offered to help us with the breakout."

"Really? Just out of the 'milk of human kindness'?"

The man snickered. "Of course not; more of a 'he scratches our back, we scratch his'…but, to be honest, I couldn't have pulled this off without his help, so now I've got one of those senses of obligation. Technically, he'd already given us help for free." He shrugged. "Still, he seems on-the-level, more or less. He might be crazy, but that 'good' kind of crazy…like a painter, or something." He leaned back. "Not sure what he wants from our end, though…."

"Who knows what a guy like that is planning, man…" Hector moaned from the window, where he had been staged as 'lookout', and who was definitely looking jittery about the whole thing, "…but who cares? No matter what it is, what are we going to do now? We just busted into a freaking prison—and they knew who we were before this even started, when they busted us in that garage! No one's going to believe we were framed for that! Maybe we should see if we can save up for a good lawyer…."

"Hector…do me a favor, and think about what you're going to say for a bit before talking again, would you?" Dan sighed, leaning back to look to him. "Something like this happens, you lay low until it blows over. As early as this afternoon, there'll be some other new 'celebrity' on the cop's radar, and then no one will give a damn about you. That's the beauty of modern media. The only thing I'm interested in right now is finding Dick and giving him a piece of my mind…any ideas where he went?"

Hector seemed to calm a bit, but he still looked rather dour. "Not unless Troy and the others found something while we were gone—he may have been a rat, but he knew how to hide in a hole like one." He looked up slightly. "Think that Requiem guy can help us out with finding him?"

"It just so happens that's another reason to stick with this guy—he wants to nail him to the wall for his own reasons," Dan answered, turning back and cracking his neck. "Fine by me; so long as I'm the guy who kills him, I don't give a damn who stuffs and mounts him…."

Claire let out a yawn, not out of boredom so much as genuine tiredness. "So…what are you guys, anyway? Thieves? Vigilantes, like the guy in the demon mask?"

Dan looked to her and formed a slick grin, pride surging in his features. "Nah, girl—we're all proud members of the Hammer Wolves, number-one gang in all of Los Midas."

"'Claire'," the woman corrected, then raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. If you're the best gang in the city, what's this talk about needing to save up for a good lawyer?"

"I said 'number one', not 'the most profitable', dame." Dan snickered. "Our gang ain't about being a bunch of gutless gold-sniffers like the Midas Hounds; it's about being a group for guys and gals without much luck in the 'City of Luck' hanging out and watching each other's backs.

"Sometimes that means kicking around some punks—doesn't matter if they're another gang who thinks they can just move in on your territory, or a copper who thinks that because of their badge they can do what they like.

"We're no royalty, and I know we will never have some of the perks they do, but so long as we can do that…heck, the only entertainment we need is a round of good drinks and fun times. Aside from Dickberry…" He shrugged. "…we had a good thing going. And I'm going to keep it going; no-one's going to treat us like we're disposable trash so long as I'm still kicking. Not Dick, not his new pals…hell, not even King Andross, if he ever shows his mug or his oversized goons around here."

Claire's face looked more confused than ever as she propped herself up, leveling her stare at him. "I heard about how guys like you were all into 'respect'…but you're serious, aren't you? You'd really pick a fight with the government to defend this gang of yours." She snorted. "Why? You don't even have anything worth defending, other than some vacuous reputation…."

"We got each other, don't we?" Dan grinned, then snickered a bit as he shook his head. "You see…I don't know where you came from, but I can tell you right now it wasn't the street. People like you always say the same thing—always say that all this credibility and respect doesn't mean a damn thing. Well, for a lot of us, it's all we got. Let me tell you this, gal: when the only thing of value is your self-worth, you're sure-as-hell not going to let some smug punk try and take it away from yah!

"Take a good look around town, girl. Look at all those bums on the street corners, without a dime to their name. Nowhere to go, and nothing to do—they're the ones that got nothing, and anyone can just come up and start smacking them around.

"Police can shake 'em down, or a gang can mug 'em. Maybe they're like most of us…families were deadbeats…kicked out of school…not one bit of luck in our whole lives.

"Some of us were on the verge of dying as forgotten street rats, 'til they joined us. Some of us did crimes, but nothing major—just what we had to do to survive. Alone, we're just like them: nothing. Just human trash to sweep away.

"Together…" He patted his own chest. "…we're more than a gang; we're family. We stick up for each other—all for one, and one for all. We go anywhere in this town and it doesn't matter if we're alone or with the pack.

"Everyone knows they can't screw around with us—can't just treat us like we're empty cans to kick around or stomp on. Something bigger than yourself, you know?"

"So where do smacking around police and lawbreaking fit into all that?"

"What police would that be, again?" Dan chuckled. "The nice ones that tried to whack us last night? Or the ones that helped keep you in your nice little cell for so long? Doesn't matter if you're a gang or a lawman; only difference is a badge, in this town. Both expect you to stick your tail underneath your legs and cower when they come throwing their weight around.

"Like I said, we're not in this for the money. We don't go running protection rackets, or dealing, or knocking over pawn shops and convenience stores. But if you're asking if we break the occasional rule? Hell yeah.

"The law doesn't give a damn about me or any of us—why would we give a damn about it?" He gestured around the room. "What you see here is what we depend on. What we know we can count on. Come on, Claire…" He leaned toward her a bit. "…you saying you never had someone you cared so much for, you'd do anything to make them happy?"

Saying this phrase made the woman visibly flinch; immediately, she leaned back down onto the couch. Not seemingly satisfied with that, she curled in a little more on herself, rather like a child.

"Once…but they took him away from me," she answered quietly. "I've got no-one now; all that keeps me going is getting back at the bastard who ruined my life."

Dan quirked an eyebrow. "Giving Salinger a 'hot dose' that turned his brain into oatmeal wasn't enough for you?"

"He was the one who made my life hell for years, but he wasn't the one who put me in that asylum." Claire nearly hissed it, her face tightening, and her rage-passion flaring as it had with Requiem. She clutched the sides of her tattered straitjacket in growing fervor. "I want the monster responsible for that, and for taking my father from me."

By now, for lack of anything better to do, everyone else lounging around in the den and kitchen had turned to this conversation; that included Jessica when she walked back in from out of the bathroom, after stopping by Tony and Eloy. On catching the tail-end of this, she cleared her throat. "Well…it's not really my place to say anything, especially if some guys screwed you over, but haven't you got some friends or people you know who'd want to know you're out of the joint first?"

Claire bitterly laughed. "Like who? People who I thought were my friends, and then left me to rot in that hellhole? As far as family, my father was all I had; I've got nothing now. Nothing except that other doc. Which means the only place I'm interested in being is one that will get me his neck in my fingers." She looked back to Dan. "If you guys and Requiem can get me that, I'm with you; otherwise, I'm out as soon as I feel strong enough to take care of myself."

Zach whistled. "Well…can't say I blame you; I was only in that dump one day, and I found plenty to hate, so I'm guessing you kind of got the taste of it stuck to the roof of your mouth, after ten years…. If you won't mind me asking, who's the guy you want to whack?"

The woman's expression hardened: it seemed even thinking of the name made her incensed. "Professor Kath Fraction," she answered.

The looks of the other people in the room immediately turned to surprise.

"Hold a minute…Professor Kath Fraction? As in, the Kath Fraction?" Dan interjected. "That guy who, every time he publishes a book, they say is the smartest man in Marvados? 'Mr. Zaitron War Machine and Kaisonite Reactor Wiz', himself? Only man with enough clout to have all three countries trying to bid for him to make 'toys' for 'em? You and your dad actually were connected to a guy like that?"

Claire lowered her head, seeming to almost tuck it into her chest, and took a strained breath. Her fingers dug more into her jacket, pulling at it harder and harder as she spoke. "More or less. The short story is that Fraction wanted my father to do something, and he refused. That cost him his life. He framed me to shut me up, and passed me off to his 'disciple', Salinger, running that asylum, to try to snap my brain and make sure I could never say anything about it."

She let out a deep-throated hiss. "Bastard's so used to everyone in the world kissing his toes, he thinks he's Mavlos's gift to human knowledge. Knows he's untouchable because everyone in the world wants his tech, so no one will let anyone lay a finger on him. But he sure as hell couldn't break me in five years; now I'm going to make him wish he had killed me when he had the chance; no matter what, I refuse to be anyone's toy again!"

She punctuated that last word, digging in so hard that, in spite of her weakness and the canvas-like material of the jacket, she ripped the collar right off. Dan blinked a bit at that as he saw her glare with a murderous stare at nothing, just simmering in her own rage. Stuff like that might have been child's play for him, but he had certain 'advantages'; for someone looking like Claire did to do it meant she must have been running on raw emotion, and lots of it.

Finally, he gave a nod as he slapped his hands on his knees. "Well, loads of luck—you're only going against the guy who makes the best weapons in the world. If it makes you feel any better, that wouldn't stop me." Picking his hands up, locking the fingers together, and giving a crack and a yawn, he stretched a bit. "All right…this was all well and good to catch my breath, but I need to step out for a bit and get in touch with the rest of the boys. Let 'em know how we did, and that we'll be headed back to the church soon. Not like there's anyplace else we can hide out until this all blows over…."

"If you can wait just a bit longer, I might have another option."

Everyone, from Dan to Claire to Alphonse, snapped up at the sound of that, as it was coming from right inside the room. Dan recognized it immediately as the voice of Requiem, but he couldn't help but snap in surprise to hear where it was coming from.

Sure enough, though, the armored figure was standing right there, to one side; none of them had even heard him come in. It was enough to make the gang leader grin…as well as sweat. It seemed this guy was getting better at coming and going without a sound….

At any rate, when Claire snapped up in alarm, her jacket remains had fallen off of her torso. Apparently, there was nothing underneath it—not even a bra.

Requiem's red eyes focused on that a moment before looking up. "Is there a problem?"

Dan blinked, and looked to the woman, who herself seemed to notice this for the first time, letting out an angry curse. Dan saw the masked man's eyes narrow, and quickly blurted out, "Take it easy, dude—she was just venting some grief. Anyways…what's up?"

"The media is talking about the breakout, but they haven't identified that any of you were involved," Requiem answered, quickly focusing on the group as a whole. "Some rumors about a 'specter' running around during the breakout, but no one is sure if it's real, or panic, or even loose vapor-based medications that spread around. But if you're wondering whether or not the Hammer Wolves are being fingered by the authorities, they're still suspected of involvement, since they know who escaped."

"Oh, that's just great," Jessica groaned. "Zach and I are the ones whose heads they nearly got cracked open, and we're the not only ones they can identify…. That church is fine for hanging out at night, but I don't think the dude there is going to let us crash for a couple weeks when we've got wanted posters."

"Like I said, I have another option," Requiem answered.

"What, you got a hideout or something?" Dan asked.

"I will before midnight," the armored figure answered, turning to walk over to the window. "How many of you are aware of the Valro Caverns?"

Zach snorted. "You're not seriously suggesting we be stupid enough to crash in the middle of a toxic mess, are you?"

"It's currently contaminated, yes, but I'll correct that soon," the man answered, looking out through the curtains a moment, then turning back. "It obviously won't be a place of luxury, but it will have the virtue of being a place no one will think to look and therefore be easy to hide in."

"So you're just going to waltz into an area chalked full of radiation and neutralize it?" Claire asked incredulously. "How? Are you a robot or something underneath that?"

"I have my ways," he answered. "I don't expect any of you to come with me, but I'm giving you some time to consider it while I'm getting the hideout ready to present to you. You can tell me what you decide when I return."

"Hey, hey, come on, now," Dan suddenly interjected, getting up and taking a step forward. "I'm not letting you just cut us loose while you try and pick out where you think we're going to stay. I always check out the place I'm going to crash first."

The red lenses flickered to Dan. "Although I'd think there'd be a little more 'faith' between the two of us at this point, I suppose that's fair, so long as you don't mind the radiation. I won't be ready to go for a few hours, anyway; I'll contact you before then."

"That's cool," the gang leader answered, cracking his neck a bit. "I planned to check in with Troy and the rest of the boys anyways. Got to run it by them, after all."

Zach coughed a bit, getting everyone's attention. Once he was sure of that, he gestured to himself. "Uh…another thing: before we go anywhere, how about getting some spare clothes? Not real keen on chancing a squad of coppers surprising me and Jess when we're buck-naked, you know?"

Dan snickered in response. "What's the matter, man? Don't want to impress the ladies? Or are you afraid of letting them down?"

"Har, har…" Zach answered with an eye-roll.

"I have you covered there," Requiem answered, reaching behind himself and pulling out a strange, oblong device that had been strapped to his back. He advanced and set it on the den table. If one was familiar with more ancient looms, it would appear to be the weaver bar on one, only attached to some sort of extremely miniaturized frame, as well as having some sort of tank on the side of it.

"How about that," Dan remarked, looking it over. "That's a Manaloom 98, isn't it? Never thought I'd see one of those in this town…. You must have some corporate sponsorship."

"Looks like a metal stick to me," Hector stated.

"You kidding?" Zach answered with a chuckle. "That thing's like a 3D printer for clothes; makes whatever fabrics you want that it's got preset into it. Hell, I might end up looking nicer than you, Dan…."

"I'll just have to rough them up if that happens, won't I?" the gang leader retorted, and chuckled. He turned to Claire. "I guess you'll be needing that, too—so long as you're sticking with us, that is. Are you?"

The woman looked over the new device with intrigue. She didn't seem to recognize what it was, but she brightened up nonetheless. In fact, a bit to Dan's own surprise, her mood abruptly improved quite a bit, and she gave a casual shrug. "Why not? You seem like you're an interesting bunch…and it's not like I have any other place better than a set of radioactive ruins to go. Might be fun!"

"Master Claire, entering such a hostile terrain is not recommended." Alphonse suddenly spoke up. "You are still very weak after not using your body for such a long period of time, and the danger index is approximately 5.7, well above the acceptable threshold of—"

"Oh, you're such a killjoy, Alphonse," Claire cut the Jaeger Cog off, not groaning as she did earlier, but now giving a childish pout. "Fine; I'll stay on the sidelines…but you're going in my place. I like checking things out myself, you know," she added with a smile and a wink. "You can be my eyes."

"Master Claire, residing in an unknown location with unknown individuals both superior in strength and of questionable motives carries a danger index of—"

"It's either the safe-house or the toxic cave, Alphonse," she pointed out. "What'll it be?"

The machine paused, then gave a mechanical nod. "Affirmative, Master Claire."

"So it's settled. I call first dibs!" she said as she reached over, and, in spite of her condition, snatched up the Manaloom and forced herself up. Years of being forced to obey Salinger's whims had apparently made her lax on some things, as she casually shrugged off the rest of her shredded straitjacket top, and knelt over the device. As Claire innocently inspected the machine, Dan threw out, "Well, she certainly snapped out of that funk in a hurry…."

"Anyways," Requiem continued, seeming to shake himself out of the sight as well, and looking back towards the others. "They still have no idea we met at the museum, so let's meet in about five hours at the exit Dan and I met at; that way you're in easy walking distance of both here and the church."

Dan nodded. "Sounds good; see you then."

Richard looked around one more time to make sure everyone was content, then climbed out of the window. As he heard Dan and the others murmur, he looked at Voltaire's home in the distance, and muttered, "Good thing Voltaire planned in advance for if he had to get a girl out in a hurry. Well, we'll see if I can keep on acting the part well enough…."

So, Boss…is it really going to take that long for Voltaire to get all that stuff to clean up the cavern?

No idea, the young man answered mentally as he yawned. I just wanted time for a nap.

---

Richard was pretty good at sneaking his way back to the mansion by now, and it was getting dark, which only made things easier. As soon as he was back, he quickly ran back to his room, climbed into a comfy bed, and slept as much as he could; he'd realized that, if he pulled this off, this might be the last time he got to actually sleep in a quality bed for some time.

After four hours that seemed far shorter than they needed to be, he was reluctantly wrestled back out of bed by Voltaire—it seemed he wouldn't be simply a voice on the Codec this time, but wanted to meet in person. There really was no other choice; talking between the caverns and the mansion would require stronger transmitters than the Codec system is equipped with.

They need a transport, both for themselves and their gear, and they ended up going with Voltaire's personal hot-rod-red Wild-Drake M50 hovercraft—definitely built for "fun" over "comfort" compared to the last transport Richard had been in, but still quite stylish, and in perfect condition. All it took was an excuse about wanting to take his friend on a personal joyride around the city to clear them, as well as a case holding Richard's outfit (sans Greymont), and they were off.

As soon as they were a safe distance from the manor, both rapidly changed into their other attire, although Richard, naturally, had the most work involved, and Greymont had just been getting used to being "separate".

The second stop was back at the guest house, to pick up Claire and Alphonse. Apparently, the woman had a thing for the faux leather material option on the Manaloom—jacket, pants, boots…. Combined with her hairstyle and pale appearance, it was a rather interesting look for her, but, considering his own appearance, Richard said nothing.

After that, they pulled up to the museum to pick up Dan. On looking inside and seeing that Richard had a fresh hood to hide his own outfit, and that Voltaire himself had donned a green raven mask of his own, he freely let out a laugh.

"Oh, man…you two look straight out of a retro superhero flick, or the oddest couple ever…" he joked as he stepped inside.

Richard, forgetting his mouth was covered, tried not to frown as Dan got in. "How did your fellow members take the news?"

"Eh, since I'm not committing to anything, the only one who groused was Troy," he answered as he kicked back next to Claire. "The others are mostly just happy with having Zach and Jessica back." He patted the back of the driver's side chair. "Who's this guy? Your chauffeur?"

"That's funny," Voltaire answered in a monotone, forcing a smile. "I was on the other end of your line. You can call me Jade Hawk; like my friend here, I'd like to keep my identity private for security reasons."

"Well, I guess I owe you, too, for helping get us through Rycroft in one piece, so you're cool by me," Dan answered. "Not really looking forward to getting the boys to tolerate two of you, though…"

Richard said nothing, although he frowned under his mask, and Voltaire simply took off.

The trip itself took about half an hour. The collapse may have left the surrounding area intact, but that too had long since been abandoned, for fear of radiation poisoning or contamination; they ended up having to drive to a quarry that was formed before the explosion, a rocky area not too far from where Richard had arrived in Los Midas.

As the shuttle descended in to the small rocky area that passed as a landing zone, Dan saw the small entrance and looked coyly at Requiem. "So, dude, what happens if someone else has already set up shop in there?"

The young man paused to glance around the area. "Depends on who they are," he said candidly as he opened his own door. "If it's just some local explorers, I'll ask them to leave. If they're criminals hiding out, I might give them a chance to before I remove them."

"Is that so? Never thought I'd be fighting a gang for territory in a toxic mineshaft…" Dan muttered as he opened his own door.

In a few moments, they were all out and standing before the entrance—rather dark and forbidding at this time of night, even if there wasn't the added hazard of the radiation a short ways in. Richard knew full well that, even if there weren't human occupants, places like this, riddled with radiation, were nice breeding grounds for certain other "tenants"—ones that weren't of a type you could argue things out with. He hoped the levels were so high than they had killed anything that could have dwelt there. As for 'Jade Hawk', he smoothed out his own change of clothes, a long purple-and-white trench-coat, and began to move to the back.

Claire stayed hunched against the car and eyed him. "So, you're Requiem's partner-in-crime? Kind of a restrictive outfit, isn't it?"

"Says the lady dressed head to toe in leather." Voltaire chuckled. "Seems like you're looking for a good time after we're done here."

"Projecting much?" she playfully answered. "What's wrong with this? After wearing canvas and burlap most of my life, I like wearing something that feels nice."

"I'm more thinking about just how you developed a 'flavor' for clothing that restrains you…" Voltaire casually answered, causing Claire's pale skin to flash a few tones redder and her playful look to turn to rage. Before she could say a word, however, he was at the back, pressing a button on his key fob and popping it open. "Anyways, I'm not here to look fashionable; I'm here to provide hardware."

When the trunk opened, for a moment all it revealed was an empty space. Nothing was there, except the floor of the compartment. However, Voltaire pressed a second switch on his remote, and at once a hidden, secondary trunk opened, this one revealing the equipment. The red-haired man started by reaching in and pulling out what looked like a small, white, steel plank with a sheet of red glass over it, and handed it to Richard. As soon as he took it he pulled out two more.

"'Dragon Lenses scanners—top of the line, too," he explained. "Even the military doesn't splurge on this model. Detects almost any known wavelength on the electromagnetic or mana spectrums, including the net sum a given individual is emitting at a given time." He passed off one to Dan, who only tentatively took it, and then pointed out the controls on the remaining one.

"This switch right here switches modes, including one for infrared, another for mana signatures, and a configurable 'Heads-Up Display' for data overlay. That takes a bit of work, though, to get how you want it. It even has limited echolocation capability and Codec built in. Just don't break it—these things cost a lot."

Dan whistled as he looked his over. "Mana signature, eh? Isn't that what dragons used to look at?"

"Well, 'Dragon Lenses' isn't just a clever name." Voltaire shrugged. He reached in again, and pulled out a new device, this one appearing to be a massive brown gourd. "And one industrial-sized Containment Gourd—easiest way to decontaminate an area ever conceived. Special media inside adheres to whatever toxic particles you put into it, and isolates them in the liquid portion for proper disposal.

"Special space-time charms around the edges make this alone hold enough liquid to fill a standard pool. This model's so big, you normally only use it for a month's worth of decontamination." He set it down and rapped his knuckles on the side. "This sucker could clean up after a hydrogen bomb."

Claire rubbed her lips a bit as she leaned over and poked the item. "Wow…I've got to admit that you've got some nice toys. Really pricey ones too, at that. You've got to have more than deep pockets for this stuff; you've got to be connected to somewhere you can get them 'wholesale'…."

"I'll only admit I have ways of getting fun things," Voltaire answered nonchalantly.

The woman yawned a bit, looking a tad bored. "Well, you've already got mine on loan, so I'll leave you all to your spelunking. I feel like a snack…. I'll set up the uplink soon, Alphonse, so keep your eyes open, so I don't miss anything."

"As you command, Master Claire," the Jaeger answered, having not moved from its position since it sat down at the cave entrance and started looking in.

"Good luck, boys," Claire said with a cheerful wave as she went back to the hovercar door, opened it, and plopped down inside. Shortly after doing so, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a bag of bite-sized chocolate balls she had obviously lifted from the guest house.

She immediately threw some in, and rather sloppily began to chew them up. While she was still downing the first batch, she grabbed more. The third handful actually got some chocolate around her lips like a little kid.

By that point, the other three were staring. She noticed this, and scowled. "Look, I've been eating reprocessed, burnt oatmeal for ten years—I'll eat whatever the hell I want, however the hell I want!"

"I'll lead the way," Requiem muttered, looking away from Claire while taking up the gourd with one hand and switching his scanner on with the other.

Naturally, the cave wasn't illuminated past the first portion (no sense in stringing lights into an area no one planned to venture through, after all); it was but a short distance before the group went into total darkness.

The only sources of illumination from there, at least in the visible light spectrum, were an electric lantern Voltaire had brought and Alphonse's eyes, which seemed to work like headlights. Of course, that hardly mattered—the readouts on the Dragon Lenses could project and sense infrared light. Richard kept his eyes glued to his, looking for radiation spikes.

Although the levels were elevated just inside the cave, it remained at reasonably safe levels as they walked past empty cans and broken beer bottles, among other bits of trash: the only signs of human activity—or any activity, for that matter. Not even bats were lurking there.

Eventually they reached a sealed lead gate. Although this had been put at a safe distance from the "hot zone", at least according to the city council's records, Richard still took his time opening it slightly and scanning the other side, making sure there were safe radiation levels beyond that point for some distance; on seeing that there were, he led them inside.

Within, the area was not only devoid of human contact, it discouraged it heavily: the passage looked like it had been formed from a fresh rockslide, and hadn't seen either handprint or footprint —or even moisture— in all the time since its formation. There was one footpath, at least, that had to have been hastily carved during construction of the gate years ago, but it was precariously balanced upon loose boulders and rocks, rather than carved into stone.

Although the path was safe enough to navigate without any sort of special gear, the three humans soon got a reminder that they still needed to use caution, when a section of the path Alphonse was walking on suddenly broke free, and the Jaeger Cog fell right off the edge of the winding pathway, down into the lower caverns.

At once, the three men ran to the edge to see what had happened, grimacing at the sound of a loud, metallic thud. Luckily, on looking to the source, they saw the metallic animal merely rise again, no worse for wear, and look back up to the trio.

"This area would seem to be unstable; it is recommended to tread very carefully."

Dan laughed. "No duh, Captain Obvious. Stay right there; we'll walk down to you. Glad you can't feel pain…."

About a minute later, the men had found a path to get to the Jaeger Cog's level. Once they were there, the machine fell in alongside them once again, and they proceeded back up and onwards. Only a few steps after reaching the main path, Voltaire spoke up, looking at the robot.

"So —'Alphonse', right?— you seem to have quite an advanced AI for a drone. I kind of expected you to just say things like 'input command', or 'what is your directive', boring junk like that…."

The machine shook out some stray pebbles and dust from its joints, rather like a dog drying itself after being splashed. "I am a prototype for the next generation of Jaeger Cogs. Drones often fail their mission when they are cut off from their command unit or their directive programming is corrupted during a conflict; to fix this error, Cogs with more flexible programming and an interface program built to interact with others were put into development.

"With a learning program, we can update our database far more rapidly than previous models. I was created by Professor Kath Fraction, and given to Doctor Abe Salinger so that he could help enhance my learning behavior with his knowledge of the human mind. During my service, I came into contact with Master Claire, and it's because of her programming that I became bound to serve her."

"So, in short, you're still an oversized vending machine, even if you're more 'chatty'," Dan summed up. "You're only serving her because you were programmed that way."

"I never claimed to have free will," the machine answered. "My primary directive is to obey the will of my master; to disobey is to be defective, and to be defective means I must be terminated."

"So, you say you were created by Professor Fraction." Richard joined in. "Just what is he like?"

"Unable to present description," the machine answered in a more 'mechanical' tone for a moment, before reverting to its previous voice. "I never met my creator; I was first activated by Dr. Salinger. I only know of Professor Fraction through databanks and development history. However, Master Claire tells me he is a very callous individual that only values his experiments."

"Whoa, whoa…" Voltaire suddenly spoke up, staggering a bit upon hearing that. "Wait just a second, Robomutt. Did you just say that your lady friend knows Professor Fraction? Personally? Talking, and whatnot?"

"They have a negative relationship, based on analyzed data," Alphonse answered. "This is more than ninety-nine percent likely due to the fact that Professor Fraction terminated Henry Lune, Master Claire's father."

Dan continued to walk, but Richard and Voltaire both immediately froze in their tracks and snapped their eyes to the machine. As a result, Alphonse also came to a halt, going on majority rule. After a moment, Dan looked back as well, and saw the dumbfounded men staring at the machine.

"Wait just a second," Richard spoke up. "You're telling me Professor Fraction, one of the most respected engineers in the world, with one of the largest reputations and world-wide fame, is a murderer? That he killed a man and had their daughter thrown in an asylum to shut her up? Why?"

"Full overview is inconclusive," the machine answered. "It appeared to stem from an argument about the nature of an experiment—"

"Shut up, Alphonse!"

All three men snapped back a bit on hearing his own mechanical monotone suddenly cut off by the transmission, like it had back in the holding area, only this time it was far more abrupt and vicious—it sounded almost like an angry creature was snapping out from inside it. Claire's voice, which had been innocent and carefree before, suddenly joined in, as violent as a raging wildcat.

"You are not to talk about that! Do I make myself clear!?"

Richard straightened back up and looked to the now-rigid machine, addressing the woman directly. "Why did you cut him off? And why would Fraction have wanted to kill your father?"

The voice on the other end paused, letting out an inarticulate, bitter noise, before answering. "I don't really feel like relaying all the details right now.

"Your friend already knows about it, but the long-and-short is, he framed me for the death of my own father, and everyone believed him because no one wants him to stop making them weapons and machines."

"Something tells me there's a bit more to it than just that," Voltaire spoke up.

"I'm not about to be lectured on privacy from a masked man," she snapped back. "You want everything on the table? You can start by explaining how you got your tech out of the Joachim Enterprises' vault!"

Now Richard's face really did go rigid; it actually turned a bit fearful underneath his mask. As for Voltaire, however, his reaction was all the stronger; he actually froze in alarm for a moment before he retorted with a sharp tone of his own.

"Are you saying that you hacked into my transport's remote database? You bypassed the encryption so quickly!? I just had that installed last week!"

"You call that encryption? First three hash-tables I thought of…. Point being, only the highest-ranked personnel in Joachim Enterprises have clearance; that narrows down who you could be quite a bit."

Richard felt himself swallow and tense; seeing Dan react with an amused chuckle only made him tenser. This might have been more Voltaire on the line than him, but he still didn't like it.

He hadn't expected to take in someone who could so quickly put them over a barrel—she was only a step away from being able to outright blackmail them. As he tensed, Voltaire actually calmed, drawing himself up more and forming a sterner look.

"As a byproduct, it also increases your chances of being called in to the nearest available loony bin, to get locked back up if you keep showing such disregard for private property and good manners."

"You're not locking me back up, you son-of-a-bitch!" the woman's voice snapped back, turning furious again. "Don't blame me that your security sucks!"

"Don't poke your nose where it doesn't belong!"

"Mind your own business about my personal life!"

Dan snickered and rolled his eyes at all of this. "Damn, it sounds like you two are married…." He gestured a bit along the path. "Maybe you should can it for now, though—don't know if you're all reading this on yours, but I've got a hot zone on my head-mounted doohickey. At least, that's what I figure from all of the 'Warning: Radiation' signs I'm getting on it."

In spite of the new situation with Claire, Richard looked up towards Dan at that, putting it aside for now, and then looked on ahead. Sure enough, his own scanner flashed a tiny warning sign with the radiation warning emblem. Voltaire glared daggers once more at Alphonse before he looked up too. Luckily, on seeing the symbols, he seemed to calm down and devote himself back to the task at hand.

"All right," Richard announced, shifting his grip on the gourd. "You two wait here; Alphonse and I go on alone from here."

The red-haired man paused, then sighed and walked over to the nearest chair-sized rock to sit down. "Very well. We'll watch to make sure the radiation is gone, and try to keep an eye on you, in case you end up irradiating yourself. Just remember to have the gourd open already before you cast the spell."

Richard nodded, and then turned to keep going. For a moment, he thought to call for Alphonse to follow, or at least clap his hands or whistle, but apparently it was unnecessary, as the Jaeger Cog immediately got up and followed. Exhaling a bit, and sending a mental signal to Greymont to make his armor 'thicker' if possible, he continued.

The path was narrower here, and reminded Richard all too much of his last trek through a narrow cavern. Nevertheless, he rushed faster than ever now—after all, he still wasn't sure if Greymont was protecting him, and from the moment he'd started wandering into areas that read higher-than-normal levels and flashed warnings to wear protective clothing or turn back on his Dragon Lenses, he'd wanted to be done with this as soon as possible.

The path here was even less well-maintained than the others, and eventually gave way to simple fallen debris, which was even harder to maneuver through. Still, he wound his way through the passages quickly, and, after about five minutes of rushing, he finally came to a stop.

The path ahead abruptly expanded into far greater darkness, and Alphonse's eye-beams, which had continuously struck rock walls up until then, suddenly vanished into blackness. The sound of a mighty wind became audible, and Richard's own footsteps echoed far more than before.

He realized he had come to something. He reached up and switched modes on his Dragon Lenses to "night-vision/infrared", and his vision sharpened, to reveal what was in the darkness.

They certainly weren't kidding about a whole district falling underground….

It was almost like going back in time, at least in some portions. A vast area, encompassing roughly four large city-blocks, spanned before him, looking like a city that had been built underground decades ago.

In the center were a dozen or so buildings that had managed to survive almost completely intact, from both the explosion and the subsequent cave-in; the rest of the subterranean buildings were mostly in pieces or ruins—but those almost-intact ones in the center were almost marvelous to behold.

They may have been an older style seldom seen in the developed areas of the world anymore, but their state of preservation only made them the more remarkable in their antiquity; having only seen things like this in pictures and videos, it was hard for Richard to believe this place was real.

Aside from the marvelous view of the underground city, a shallow stream had formed, seeming to ring around half of the area, likely having begun to flow that way on the day of the cave-in. Aside from Richard's own motions and noises, the water provided the only sounds in the entire chamber.

I guess some of it managed to make it down here in one piece…. Good—maybe that means the interiors are still mostly intact.

"Um…Alphonse? Can you detect any life forms down there?"

"Negative; radiation levels are too high—most organic life cannot reside here without succumbing to the various effects of radiation poisoning within fifteen minutes."

I guess that that also means there's no one to fight for the territory…. "All right, we need to get to the highest point, so the spell can target the radiation."

The Jaeger Cog seemed to realize its best course of action from that comment was to lead the way, and immediately began to move for the city. Richard had a bit of a harder time —the path was still rough and uneven until one got further into the streets— but he was able to keep his footing surprisingly well and move in, trying to ignore that his radiation readings had moved into the "LETHAL" zone, and the scanner was practically screaming at him to turn back. Soon, the two were crossing into the ruins of the Valro Burrow.

Picking their way through the ruins took a little while, but eventually the streets smoothed, and one could almost imagine they had walked into a demilitarized zone, rather than a pile of ruins. The few intact buildings rose up on either side, and the lack of vegetation (due to the radiation) gave Richard the impression that he was actually walking into a true city.

None of them were as tall as modern skyscrapers, but after a short distance he did see one of the intact buildings rising head-and-shoulders above all the others, and nearly exactly in the middle of the remains of one block.

On reaching it and looking it over a bit with his scanner —particularly the confusing shape on top— he realized it was an old-fashioned clock tower. He tilted his head lower and scanned it a bit more, and saw, much to his relief, that the building's foundation seemed mostly stable as well…although the only real way he had to find out would be to head up it.

Deciding this was as good a place as any, he finally lowered the Condenser Gourd to the ground and set it up. Before popping it open, however, he looked at Alphonse. "This spell is going to affect everything above me, so make sure to keep low to the ground."

Almost immediately, he heard a buzz in his ear from the Dragon Lenses, followed by Voltaire's voice. "And remember to focus on the radioactive particles; this spell 'seeks' what the user wants. It's better to damage the ruins than to leave part of them contaminated."

Richard had nearly jumped at the sound, having forgotten all about the Codec connection, but quickly recovered, and opened the gourd instead. After that, he looked back to Alphonse one more time and gestured. "Try to get somewhere below everything. I'll need you to monitor the radiation levels; you've got the best eyes, and I can't afford to look around."

"Affirmative."

The young man turned to the clock tower next. Not bothering to try going inside and finding his way to the top, he instead crouched and leapt, shooting up past two floors and landing on the side of the third.

As before, claws popped out of the Greymont-armor, and he snagged the side of the tower, dug into the stone, and came to a stop. There was a rustle and a settling of weight, and he waited and cringed at the thought of the wall giving way beneath him and sending him falling back to ground, yet it seemed to hold; apparently it was indeed stable enough for this.

Exhaling, he leapt again and landed, and once more his weight was held fast, with only a few bits of concrete breaking loose around his claws. He leapt again and again, up the rest of the way, until he was at the pinnacle of the tower, then quickly leapt over the edge and stood on top. The footing here also seemed secure enough…although he wondered how it would do in a hurricane….

The thought made him more than a little nervous —wind magic was notoriously hard to control— but he had pulled off something like this before, if on a much smaller scale, and at least he had more than one chance to perform the spell right.

"All right, Greymont," he said audibly to his friend this time. "This is going to take all my focus, so just…try to support me, and don't distract me until it's done, okay?"

Sure thing, Boss!

The prince took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, then did so two more times, clearing his mind and stilling his spirit. This would need quite a strong mana-flow, and he needed perfect concentration. He also had to admit he was stalling the inevitable a bit…but he finally put his hands together, and brought the words to mind.

Ready to start, he quickly brought one hand up and made a series of hand symbols, these ones more grandiose, extensive, long, and sweeping than those of any other spell he had done since this all began. The wand glowed again, and —as with other more-advanced spells— the glow quickly spread to his whole body.

Not stopping there, his aura blazed more and more intensely, growing from a dim glimmer into a flame, and then a bright blaze. Light began to pour off of him and illuminate not only the clock tower but also the surrounding block. Finally, he finished, and extended his hands over his head.

As Richard gestured, he absently recalled his training sessions with his uncle, and pondered, In the end, it's just a little more elaborate a task than the tests Uncle Nathan gave to me; the only real difference is that I can afford to screw up, this time….

He then put his hands together as he proclaimed, "All right. Sealing Typhoon!"

The aura continued to blaze, but now it poured off of him and into the air, cascading around the clock face and shooting into the sky. Once away from him, it rapidly expanded, continuing to glow green to signify its presence as it swelled.

At first it only spilled outwards, becoming large enough to fill the block; then it bent its path and began to sweep around, trailing across the top of the cavern, but expanding further and spreading all around it.

None of the mist stayed still; it continuously swept about. As it did, a stiff breeze began to blow through the entire chamber…which then became a gale…then something even more potent than that…. The winds picked up ever more fiercely, growing from storm-levels to hurricane-levels, and raged through every nook and cranny of the entire cavern; there wasn't a place left untouched by the spell.

As it continued to swirl, Richard imagined it feeling through every individual pore and crevasse in the area; he thought of all the teeny, tiny radioactive particles being caught up by the wind and carried with it, even as his teeth gritted, trying to keep the wind going. Slowly, the green wind went from a normal mana-color shade to a more vivid tint of green, indicating its nature was changing.

Alphonse was holding on rather tightly now, not only pressing himself into the corner between the building and the pavement, but digging his claws in as well. Nevertheless, his voice came over the Codec calmly: "The radiation in the area is decreasing, but it is too chaotic to tell if it will be completely clear once the storm ends."

The voice caused Richard to look around, breaking his concentration for a moment and looking at the effect. It was a bad move—immediately, buildings on the edge of the tempest began to let out groans, and some of the foundations began to make cracking sounds as the forces of the gales went into them instead.

No! Focus! Don't lose it now!

Furthermore, the strain was getting to him. His arms and legs were burning, and the raw mana flowing through them was also giving him a headache and making him sick. The cracking noises only continued as he strained and struggled, his breathing growing erratic and the strain mounting like a weightlifter's when under a load about to break.

No…keep it up, he thought to himself. Just like in training…one point—focus on one point….

Taking in two sharp breaths, Richard reasserted his focus once again, his aura flaring and suddenly concentrating all of his power in one area. Even so, the cracking continued; some of the ruined buildings that were mostly intact began to sway, and larger pieces of debris began to get whipped up alongside the radiation. A few pebbles began to strike against the clock tower itself, and their numbers rapidly increased.

Clenching his fists tight, closing his eyes to shut the wind and dust out, and hearing nothing but the sound of his own grunting, he visualized billions and billions of tiny radiation particles, like little cartoon characters, swimming all around him and being snagged by a living cloud; a bit childish, maybe, but it helped him think only of the radiation and the task at hand.

Having shut everything out, Richard was no longer certain if he was done or not, or even if he had regained control of the storm, but his focus was nearly gone, and he couldn't afford to wait any longer, or he'd lose it completely, and his efforts would be for nothing.

His hands snapped around and formed a cup shape; at once, the gale shifted inward—and the young man was nearly blown off of the clock tower's top, even with Greymont anchoring him down, as everything came together and streamed toward his location, rapidly condensing into a proper typhoon. He paused again only long enough to see the opened gourd in his mind's eye, and then twisted his fingers inwards and down.

At once, the bright glowing green storm snapped down and planted its foot right in the neck of the gourd, as if it was nothing more than a giant tub, the drain of which had been pulled, and started to draw itself inward.

This was the hardest part of all, and strained him further still, but he forced himself to hold on until every last bit of the toxic vapor was drawn down into the magical device. At last, as he heard the sounds of wind die and their pull come off of him, he risked opening his eyes. He was just in time to see the once-massive tornado shrink down into the smallest of eddies, and then vanish into the gourd.

Immediately, with Greymont moving a bit on his own to help him, he leapt clean off of the roof of the clock tower and sailed to the ground. He smacked down a moment later, his friend absorbing the impact, dashed forward, snatched up the stopper, and then slapped it down over the top of the gourd. The device trembled a bit from the sheer amount of material that had been loaded into it in one blast, but then went still.

If not for Greymont supporting him, Richard would have collapsed on the spot. He knew for a fact it wasn't too long ago that he wouldn't have been able to pull it off at all; he must be getting more used to using practical magic and more advanced spells.

Although he had to take a breather for about three minutes, he eventually caught enough of his breath to stand on his own and ease up. He tapped the side of his scanner and looked about.

The readout gave a few trace signatures that it urged the viewer to be mindful of, but overall he had succeeded: the levels were higher than on the surface, but were now in normal ranges. He glanced about the area a bit, making sure to look at things from a few different angles, but he saw only more of the same.

"Jade Hawk, looks like it worked out on my end. What about yours?"

"My own Dragon Lenses say everything's at a safe level; we're already on our way. Congratulations, Requiem—I'd say you're the proud owner of reclaimed Valro Cavern property."

"Sweet," Dan added. "What shape is it in?"

Richard looked around a bit. "Some of the buildings are still intact, or mostly. Looks like one might be a motel; no idea what the inside is like, though."

"We'll have to give it a real once-over, some portable generators, and maybe some extensive remodeling…but it sounds like it's a start. We'll see it for ourselves in a minute or two anyways; just hang out until then."

About five minutes later, the two men arrived, and began to come down to meet up with Richard face-to-face. By that point he was standing again and had recovered a great deal, although he didn't want to have to sling out one of those spells again.

Voltaire's voice came on through the Codec again as he started looking over the place for existing utilities and places that could be put to work; Dan idly commented on the place and, while he didn't say anything committing himself to it, his tone was growing more and more receptive.

He, more than Richard, seemed to realize the advantages of having a place to hide out that no one would think to venture into, although he progressively turned the conversation more and more towards what Richard and Voltaire would want in exchange. Voltaire was able to evade it, but Richard knew the decision-making time was coming up, and he had to start deciding how much they would reveal.

This has sure been a crash-course over the past couple days; for a guy who doesn't have any real plan, I've sure got some momentum going! I guess what happens next really hinges on Dan's next move; the man has yet to promise me anything, and from here on in, I'm not serving his interests. It's a gamble, to say the least—but I suppose all great things take a gamble, especially in Los Midas….

Richard was distracted from this thinking by a whistle. Looking back up, he saw Dan and Voltaire approaching more-or-less side-by-side. The gang leader was moving more towards the side of one of the intact buildings, looking it over and seeming to marvel a bit at how intact it had managed to stay. He looked back down to the armored man after a moment.

"Well, dude, you pulled off another good trick. Not exactly the 'sunniest' of spots —rather damn bleak, to be honest— but it's still impressive. Not bad at all for the Hammer Wolves' newest mark."

He opened a palm and gave a hardy slap to the building on his side. Unfortunately for him, the impact knocked out a large section of the wall, as if he had smacked a barrier made out of empty tin cans.

He snapped to that in alarm, and soon got another surprise when the rest of the wall, now deprived of part of its load-bearing system, promptly sloughed off and collapsed right off of the building. The gang leader quickly recoiled, and both Voltaire and Requiem put up hands to shield their eyes as the brickwork collapsed into a pile, sending up a loud noise and a cloud of dust over them.

Slowly, the sounds of the collapse faded and the dust settled, revealing that the four individuals (one being Alphonse) were now covered with a layer of dirt, and that Dan was staring blankly at the collapsed wall. After a moment, he coughed.

"You might want to let the load-bearing analysis come through before you do that again," Voltaire said with a glare. "For all we know, even the structures still standing might as well be unfired porcelain at this point."

"Yes—I didn't go through all the trouble of keeping this place intact just to start knocking it down," Richard added as he smacked some dust off his shoulders.

"Ha ha," Dan retorted with an eye-roll. "One bad wall. I'm sure the steel in the girders is still fine—I mean, take a look," He gestured through the settling dust to the building interior. "that ugly-ass statue they had in the lobby is still standing after all these years!"

Frowning a bit beneath the mask, Richard looked through the dust and into the lobby, and immediately froze in place. He wasn't sure exactly what he was seeing on the other side of the smoke and dust, but it was big, and it cast a bigger shadow. Not only that, but when Voltaire turned and shone his light on it, it revealed something bigger than Dan, which shimmered like polished red glass; something with a wet look about it…

…like an eye.

Furthermore, there was what looked not like dust or smoke, but steam, rising from it. "I'm not sure that's a statue, my good man," Voltaire said rather uneasily, taking a wise step backward.

Dan looked at him and blinked, then turned back to the eye. After a moment, he snorted and gave half a smile. "Come on, guys—no life forms, remember?" He tapped the side of the Dragon Lenses. "Anything in here would have been more irradiated than a bag of movie popcorn fifty years ago—probably just a broken steam pipe or something, from knocking it down."

A bit more crackling rang out from the area around the collapsed wall; it could have been something settling, but Richard was swiftly beginning to fear that it wasn't.

Um…Boss? Greymont's voice rang out in his head, sounding rather nervous. I don't know what has an eye that big, but I smell something very, very nasty coming from it…and it doesn't smell like Voltaire's statues….

The crackling increased, and this time a grinding noise seemed to go with it; one that didn't sound like building debris. It sounded a bit like…teeth.

"Alert—a thermal signature is swiftly growing in that structure," Alphonse suddenly spoke up, raising a paw and pointing at the collapsed wall.

"No offense, sir, but I'm believing the metal wolf over you…" Voltaire commented as he stepped back further, now deliberately moving away.

By now, the noise was loud enough to make even Dan have second thoughts, and he swallowed a bit, then took a step back himself. He froze in surprise soon after, for at last there was a change: the moment he'd moved, gigantic muscles beneath the translucent red orb contracted, and the pupil both narrowed and swiveled around to look right at him.

"Okay, so I'm wrong once in a while," Dan conceded.

A second later, all four of them not only leapt back, but ran away as fast as they could. That was because the ground beneath all of them rumbled, shook, and then began to split and collapse entirely, as something massive and powerful underneath it shifted. The only good part was that it was slow, allowing them to move aside before it could knock them over.

At the same time, more of the building began to collapse around the red eye, soon burying it in a new cloud of dust. This time, Richard, as he continued to retreat, he struggled to look through it via the scanner.

For a moment, all that could be seen were gigantic clouds of smoke and debris —more being made every second— and, beyond it, the metal skeleton of the building still standing.

Suddenly, a massive, green, reptilian hand burst from the smoke, and grasped some of the metal girders, warping them like they were no more than paper as the massive creature pulled itself up out of the crumbling hole and rose to full height.

At first only the shadow was visible, but the source rapidly emerged from the gloom, looking like an upright, green-and-black, alien crocodile. Each tooth protruding from its snout was the size of Richard's body, and a pair of mandible-like pincers on the sides of its jaws flicked about with loud clicks.

As it heaved a huge foot onto the pavement, fracturing even more of the street and casting up rubble in its wake, its single, massive red eye scanned them, making so much noise just from the movement that they could actually hear the pupil flicking about.

"Oh, hell…it's a damn kraidlon," Voltaire muttered as he quickly made a gesture to make his crossbow appear.

"What the hell is a kraidlon, and how do you know about it?" Dan shouted back. "You keep one as a pet and flush it down the toilet when it got too big?"

"It's a Jiodisan bio-weapon, Kanjiu-type." the red-haired man answered as he quickly summoned his weapon and waved his hand to nock a bolt. "But what is one doing here? It's been fifty years, and this is Aurino territory!"

The thing snorted, steam blasting from its nostrils.

"Who gives a damn where it came from!? How do we kill it!?" Dan yelled back, tightening his fists.

"I'm open for suggestions!" the wealthy man shouted back, taking aim and moving back even farther.

The thing raised its green claws up to its sides, the thumbs and the rest of the hands having the appearance of pincers. Quickly, Richard seized the hilt of Auro Solais and drew it, casting Aura Edge at once to envelop it in a fresh aura. The monster's pupil widened slightly at the light that erupted from it, and its face tightened.

It didn't seem to like the light in the cave: at once, it snapped its head forward and bellowed a roar so loud that Richard nearly cried out from the pain of his proximity. He even thought Greymont would rattle off of him, or the sound would bring the whole cave down. As soon as it finished, the monster dove forward headfirst, opened its massive jaws, and lunged at the three.

Immediately, Voltaire and Dan straightened, having crouched in response to the deafening noise, and broke to one side while Richard tore for the other, and the enormous creature smashed its head into the ground. Whatever wasn't shattered by the impact was shredded by its massive jaws.

As suicidal as it seemed, Richard knew he had to take a shot while he could, and immediately planted his feet on the ground, stopping his retreat, and then launched himself back at the thing.

As it ripped its head back up, tearing apart road chunks and grinding them up in its jaws, he snapped his blade out and slashed it across the monster's neck. He meant the cut to be deep, but unfortunately —even with the magic-enhanced blade— the thing was so massive, and its skin so thick, that only a light scratch resulted, barely managing to draw blood.

Nevertheless, the thing snapped its head up and bellowed even louder than before, now angry, actually bringing Voltaire and Dan down to their knees from the sheer power of its voice.

It also stunned Richard, and that gave the monster a chance to idly kick its leg out at him. It hadn't even aimed that precisely, and had to be merely a glancing blow for something like it, yet Richard's body immediately catapulted backwards into a different building, his body plowing right through.

Greymont was likely the only reason his spine wasn't turned into gravel, but the sheer amount of pain that still made it through to Richard left that mercy a little hard to believe. He smacked clean into the wall on the opposite side before toppling off of it and to the ground, the trauma and agony crippling him momentarily.

With the kraidlon's back to Richard, Dan forced himself back to his feet and chanted a spell of his own, morphing his limb back into a giant piston: his trademark Turbo Knuckle.

He forced himself to charge the kraidlon, only to see a length of flesh flick from behind it. He snapped his head towards it as he ran, just in time to make out a long tail with a thick knotted end, rather like a club, sweeping towards his face.

Immediately, he snapped his arm around, and punched that instead; doing so likely saved his life. The Turbo Knuckle was a heavily-modified Shield Arm technique, leaving it durable enough for even a blow against a Kanjiu-type creature's incoming swing; as it was, his entire arm went numb, his wrist was sprained, and his own body got sent flying backward. A second spot of good luck was that he merely landed on the street and went for a violent, rough tumble.

Richard, meanwhile, groaned and forced his hands underneath him. With a push, he managed to flip himself onto his back. He was still feeling tired and sore, both from the blow as well as the spell, but forced his legs underneath him…just before the wall before him burst, and the towering, green, ugly face of the kraidlon smashed in, bellowing in anger and diving right for him with its jaws open wide and mandibles flaring.

He barely had time to gasp and throw his arms up before the pincers slammed on his body from either side. His metal fists managed to catch the mandibles and, fortunately for him, it seemed those weren't nearly as strong as the bulk of its body, for he —just barely— managed to hold them at bay.

Unfortunately, they could still move, even with him attached to them; as the monster snapped its head back, it not only yanked Richard up with it, but it began to bend the mandibles inwards, toward its drooling, massive jaws.

Both of his hands were occupied. He somehow still had Auro Solais in one, and the mandibles were nearly breaking around it; bracing them open with the blade wasn't working. He had only one other idea.

Quickly, as the mouth neared, he quickly cast Metal-Morph with one hand. As the teeth opened wider, his breastplate suddenly twisted and deformed, before erupting straight out and upwards into a metal spike that drove itself into the thing's upper gumline; unlike the outer body, the flesh there was soft, and blood instantly erupted.

The mandibles recoiled, and the thing snapped its head up in pain and increased rage, but it also spat at the same time, and Richard went tumbling out once again. His adrenaline was pumping now, however, and he only free-fell for a moment before righting himself enough to land on his feet.

One of his legs still got a twisted jolt, but he regained his footing and quickly sprang back as fast as he could. The kraidlon, meanwhile, was roaring in more agony, this time so loud the windows on the nearest building shattered.

Richard's gait turned into a stagger, although he gritted his teeth and kept going. His brains felt like they were ready to hemorrhage from the thing's roars; he knew Voltaire and Dan couldn't take much more of this either, wherever they were.

In the corner of his vision, he saw a flash of metal and looked towards it: Alphonse was apparently joining in, snapping out its plasma cannons and opening fire. Although he lit up its entire flank, the thing simply hissed as if being irritated by bug bites.

"Yo, you guys done with the radiation down there yet?" Claire's voice suddenly spoke up over the cannon fire, rather casually. "I want to come see!"

"That is highly inadvisable, Master Claire," Alphonse calmly answered as it darted to one side, evading the thrashing tail of the beast, and continued to fire, hoping to hit a weakness.

Luckily, the salvo of plasma fire and the speed of the Jaeger Cog had a beneficial side-effect: it served as a diversion that kept the monster from roaring again. As a result, Dan and Voltaire were able to regain their bearings, and Richard was able to pull back.

As soon as his mind was clear enough to look around again, he quickly scanned the battle zone and located his two companions. Almost immediately after doing so, he heard Voltaire shout again.

"These monsters are supposed to be juggernauts —unstoppable until they've totally wiped out a battlefield, friends and foes alike— but it looked like when Requiem gave it a mouthful, it bled a lot, and felt it a lot worse than cutting its skin. Instead of shooting it just-wherever, we need to hit it somewhere besides its hide!"

"How the hell do we do that?" Dan's voice inquired sardonically. "It's kind of covered by its skin, you know!"

The monster suddenly made a lunge for Alphonse, overextending itself this time as it tried to overcome the Cog's speed. For a moment, it looked like it might succeed, for, though the machine turned and took off in a full run, the beast continued to fall over it, raising a claw to slice it in two—but as it chased the machine, Voltaire suddenly took off.

Rather than head straight at it, he only dashed until he was able to leap atop a boulder strewn in the street, snap around, take aim at the approaching monster, and fire.

Richard couldn't hear Voltaire chanting from his location, but he saw a burst of light erupt from Voltaire's ear stud and strike the projectile a moment before it was released, immediately turning it an icy-blue color. A split second later, it sank right into the creature's one massive red eye, and, with a great crackling noise, instantly froze it solid.

The thing snapped back to full height in alarm, the cold no doubt numbing it, so that it was more confused and blinded than in pain. It hissed, and then raised a claw to its own head, trying to knock loose whatever had just hit it in the eye.

As soon as ones of its knuckles tapped it, the entire eyeball shattered like glass, leaving nothing but frozen bits toppling out of a massive hole in its skull. Now it bellowed, more enraged than ever.

"Just need a bit of creativity…" Voltaire said through the Codec in a strained grunt, covering his ears as he said this.

The monster was stunned, so Richard quickly went on the offensive again. He realized what Voltaire was saying: if they couldn't break through its skin normally, they needed to attack where it was weak—namely, its head, and specifically, its open mouth; that was the most vulnerable area.

While it may have been smart enough to learn to keep its mouth shut, with it now blinded, it would hopefully snap at anything and everything, giving them more opportunities to hurt it. It was worth a shot, certainly….

Focusing his power into a Mana Slash, Richard snapped his blade around and fired off a blade of energy toward the head of the monster. By now it had stopped its latest round of thrashing, and turned to the source of the sound.

Somehow it realized its weakness had been found, Richard figured, because it clamped its jaw shut. The attack impacted its mouth, and proceeded to roll along the side of its face, all the way across its cheek, down its neck, and onto its back, before peeling off to strike the cave wall beyond. The damage it left was nothing more than another long, bloody scratch that had barely broken the skin in a few places. However, that had been Richard's intention all along: if it got too mad, it would fight recklessly.

Sure enough, the thing bellowed and lashed its tail out, smacking it into some of the ruined structures. The club portion of its tail somehow snagged up some bits and pieces, and it then flung those wildly in the direction of any noises it could hear.

While the pieces were large, they were also erratic; many of them merely smashed the area around the four, and the rest were relatively easy to dodge. Richard used that moment to barrel forward, charging the creature yet again.

Its hearing must have been fairly good, because as his metal footsteps clacked against the ground, it threw another building piece, this one headed right for him. Richard didn't even slow as he snapped up his blade and cleaved it, the blade slicing the incoming projectile apart and the raw Aura Edge power causing it to shatter into bits.

Hearing its foe still coming, the monster hunched slightly, extended its claws before it, and opened its jaws and mandibles wide, preparing to shred the first thing that came at it. Richard spotted this, and realized that now came the insane part.

He didn't try to attack the thing head-on, or even aim at it again from a distance; by now he was too close to prevent counterattacks, yet far enough that, in the time a magical attack took to reach the open mouth, the kraidlon could close it again. Instead, he barreled forward a few more steps and then smashed his feet down, launching himself into the air and straight for the thing's open jaws.

He quickly chanted a spell midair, and snapped his free hand out to the side, his aura rapidly pouring into it and condensing into a sphere: just one good shot into the gullet would cook its insides….

Just as he made to snap his arm forward and throw, he got another shock: like a hellish, giant toad, its tongue suddenly lashed out for the young man—it hadn't been preparing for Richard to come towards it after all, but had been readying its own attack.

The boneless, smelly appendage snapped with an almost whip-like crack for where it thought Richard was, and while it wasn't a precise enough shot, it came dangerously close, forcing the prince to yank his throwing arm to one side.

The shot didn't go down the throat, but instead impacted on its gumline, this time on the lower jaw. A piercing explosion ripped through the air, and a mass of blood and flesh erupted from the site, along with the splintered remains of three of the thing's teeth: apparently its skin was more durable than its skeleton.

The screech it made was so loud that even Richard couldn't defy it this time; his body seemed to weaken and paralyze from the noise. Not that it mattered, for he was still airborne, and fairly helpless as such…but it dashed any chance he would have had at countering when the tongue then recoiled, only for the monster to lunge at him, claws outstretched.

In an instant, the young man was snagged by one clawed-hand, which immediately clenched and held him in a pincer-like grip before dragging him downwards with the rest of the kraidlon as it slammed to the ground with an earth-shaking rumble. As one building was shaken into pieces from the impact, the furious monster, fountaining blood and saliva all over the place, yanked its arm up to throw the young man into its waiting open jaws.

It never got the chance. The moment Richard was flung from its hand like little more than a snack, another individual seized the opportunity while its head was so close to the ground: Dan. Richard's swimming senses barely noted the tail end of a fresh Turbo Knuckle chant before Dan darted inward, arm transformed and piston snapped back, and swung the metal arm as hard as he could, right underneath the gargantuan creature's face, in an uppercut. As powerful as the move was, it still seemed likely it would do little better than a mouse pawing a human.

However, they had already seen that the thing's skeleton wasn't as durable as its hide, and blunt-force trauma had no need to pierce the skin in order to break what was beneath.

In spite of the relative sizes, the kraidlon's head actually snapped skyward, causing Richard to bounce harmlessly off of its lower neck and fall back to the ground. A tremendous cracking came out as the jaw of the thing went out too far, snapping near both ends.

As Richard, sore and more stunned than ever, managed to roll up onto his feet, he saw the beast loll its head back and its mouth fall open. With the jaw broken, there was no way it could shut it again…leaving itself fully vulnerable.

"There's a bull's eye if I ever saw one! Tri-Frost Arrow!"

Blinking once to clear his head, Richard turned his head behind him, and saw Voltaire had readied another arrow. Wasting no time giving the monster another chance to recover, he snapped his hand out and slapped the side of his weapon, hitting a smaller switch. Immediately, two additional bow limbs and strings snapped out from above and below the main one, giving him triple firepower in an instant.

He gestured again to summon and nock a pair of bolts against those two strings as well, took aim, and fired. Just as with the last shot, bolts of mana came out of his earring and turned the shots icy-blue the moment before they left the bow. In a split second, all three whizzed past Richard's head and sailed down the creature's gullet.

If it still had an eye, it might have widened it at that point. As it was, the thing's latest attempt to roar was aborted, and the thing reared up only to spasm, giving a few violent jerks and milder hisses and gulps. Even this was much slower than before—being reptilian in nature, whatever had frozen its insides seemed to be making it more sluggish and stiff.

As quick as he could, Richard got his feet underneath him once again. By now, he had used too much magic—he was still burnt out over the tempest, after all. He needed more time for another Mana Fist, and it didn't look as if he would get it: he had just begun to muster his mana when the thing snapped its head down, managing to lash its tongue out again…

…only for the organ to fly into three pieces. The final member of their group had made his move: the moment the tongue had begun to stretch out, Alphonse, blades deployed, had leapt into its path, crossing it and letting the razors slice the thick piece of muscle in two different places.

The giant wads of flesh smacked the ground before Richard, never quite reaching him. Grinning a bit beneath his faceplate, Richard forced his agonized body to finish his spell and once again form a sphere of explosive mana in his free hand.

As the kraidlon retracted what it still had of its mutilated tongue, he snapped his arm out and flung the orb at its open jaws, this time sending it down its throat, the same way Voltaire's attack had gone.

The beast went totally rigid. It didn't roar this time, instead suddenly giving out a choking gag. Its claws and tail outstretched, and held that position. Drool and blood slowly dropped from its mouth.

A gurgling sound came from within it, as if it had a case of severe indigestion. The four, all on the ground once again, watched and waited, weapons drawn, to see if this had done the trick, or it would still be able to fight after this.

Finally, it did react, in a manner of speaking: its stomach exploded from the inside, rupturing the green-and-black skin and sending a splash of blue blood and entrails over the entire street corner. The explosion's force was so strong it ruptured its lower ribcage as well, nearly shearing the monster in half—only its spinal column seemed to keep it from separating entirely. That hardly mattered a moment later, when the blast shoved its upper body backward, and gravity yanked it the rest of the way, ripping the massive beast completely in two.

With a pair of massive thuds, the Kanjiu halves toppled back and collapsed; soon the only sign of motion at all from the thing was its blood pouring out of its carcass. It was dead.

As exhausted as Richard had been before, he nearly fainted from that last spell; his relieved breath sounded faint, his heart was still pounding, and his mind felt fried from the overuse of his magic. "I suppose that could have been worse…."

"Nice move with the Mana Fist." Voltaire nodded to him as he collapsed his bow back down and moved it to his side. "Its organs were already frozen; that heat provided a nice thermal shock to mangle it from inside."

Dan took off his cap and wiped his brow as his arm returned to normal before a wet gurgle suddenly came from the chest of the kraidlon. Immediately he snapped up, rapidly slapping his hat back on his head and getting his fists up. He swore. "That thing ain't dead! Hell, what if it splits into two more when you cut it in half!?"

Alphonse seemed far more casual as he ran his sensors over it momentarily. "Scanning indicates no form of heartbeat, pulse, or neurological activity; there is a ninety-eight percent chance that the creature is now deceased, and that the noise you heard was gas or fluid being released from its defunct or severed organs."

The gang leader grimaced a bit, not liking the fact Richard and Voltaire were still standing calm and apparently hadn't been spooked, but he eased up. "All right, it seems like," he admitted as casually as he could a moment later. "But what the hell was it even doing here? This sure ain't Jiodisa—and I thought the city changed hands before they revved up how nasty they could make their bio-weapons?"

Richard had begun to clean off his sword so he could sheath it, but he realized Dan had a good point. There certainly wasn't any form of bio-weapon facility down here, Jiodisan or otherwise, and there was no way the monster could have gotten down here without alerting anyone, so how in the world would it have gotten down here at all?

As Richard pondered this, Voltaire hung his crossbow on his belt and adjusted his coat over it, seemingly intending to keep it around for now, and moved over to one of the nearest fleshy bits. He surveyed it a bit, rubbing his lips and thinking.

"I have one theory…."

Both Richard and Dan looked up to him. The red-haired man gestured around.

"There's certainly no proof, but this might not be as illogical as it seems. See, no one really knows what exactly caused the Valro Burrow incident—there was just an assumption that there had been a flawed component or fixture within the reactor that broke down and caused the explosion. No one has ever been able to find that out for certain, obviously, due to the radiation and terrain."

He indicated the massive carcass. "I won't pretend to be an expert on Jiodisan bio-weapons, but I know a thing or two about the nature of the Kanjiu. Heh—a date who was also a biologist told me about them a few months ago.

"All of them have one thing in common: they're descended from the line of creatures they used for radiation cleanup. All of them subsist on radioactivity, either directly or from the radioactive waste. And some of them have hibernation abilities as well, ways to become inactive for ten, twenty, thirty…even a hundred years.

"If someone wanted that plant destroyed, they could have sent this creature while it was still in a juvenile form—a large crate or anything else that could hold an egg or larva could be shipped in with the other materials.

"Once inside, the kraidlon would have sensed the radiation, broken free, and smashed into the reactor to get to it, causing the explosion. While everything else was irradiated and destroyed, it would gorge itself on the dead and the reactor's fuel supply, and grow to this monstrous size.

"Then, on finishing up, it would try to depart, only to find itself trapped underground with the rest of the Burrow. Since it couldn't get out, it would go into hibernation, and, with that lowered metabolism, could live off of the ambient radioactive waste. Meanwhile, everyone else is left to conclude the entire incident was an industrial accident."

Both Richard and Dan were silent. The former admitted it made sense—it was the most plausible reason one would be down here. There was only one other way in and out of this cavern, after all, and there were no entrances into this place large enough for a full-sized kraidlon to make its way in, save the ceiling hole.

It had to have come down here while it was young, and it had to have had a lot more than just ambient waste to feed off of. Dan also thought about these things, but in the end shrugged.

"All right, the story about how it could have got down here I can swallow, but that doesn't answer why they hell they'd do that in the first place. We've been at peace for a long time; that sounds like something that would only happen if Aurino was still at war with Jiodisa."

"That doesn't necessarily matter," Richard answered, his tone turning a bit cold. After all, he may not have officially been in the Aurino Republic's good graces anymore, but that still meant this was an act of terrorism that took place against his republic, and he was not pleased with that. "Maybe it was a parting shot in the aftermath of the Auro-Jido Winter War; maybe it was just a way of spitting in the face of the Republic for annexing places like Los Midas and everything else they managed to seize just before the end of the war. No matter what it was, whoever was in the upper echelons of the Jiodisa Government obviously thought it was worth it, and that they could get away with it."

"And they'd be correct, too," Voltaire added. "There hasn't been proof in fifty years, and, so long as we reside here, there isn't any now, either. But even if there was, it'd be quite the ordeal to try to bring it to any form of prosecution. In the end, they'd deny it, everything would be bogged down in procedures, and even if there was a 'conviction', I don't think anyone is willing to start a war over this anymore."

Dan let out a rather bitter scowl in response. His face tightened as a fresh rage came over him. "Oh, that's great. That's just fan-bloody-tastic, ain't it?" he snarled. "This city takes a few more steps to being a Grade-A hellhole, a couple hundred thousand people bite the big one, and everyone else in this county gets five decades worth of kids croaking from cancer…all so that some rich bastards on ivory thrones get to point their fingers at Aurino and laugh at their little joke…."

Shaking his head, he turned away and looked to the nearest piece of creature refuse. He muttered a bit as he stalked over to it, hands tightened into fists yet again. On reaching it, he let out another swear, and snapped his foot around, kicking the bloody chunk so violently it splattered against one of the larger chunks of the creature's body.

"So I guess it just doesn't matter if you're scraping on the street or just trying to make a living in a new business district, huh? There's always going to be some bastard bigwig with his nose in the air and his head up his ass thinking you're just a goddamn checkers piece! You know…" He snapped fully around and advanced on the two men, holding his hand up in a pointing gesture. "…for once —just once— I wish I could get my hands on one of these bastards, and make 'em feel just as powerless as guys like me and the boys have spent our whole lives feeling!"

Richard looked back silently at Dan for a moment. Again, he thought back to the previous night. He also thought about the points the gang leader was now making. Truly, was there that much of a difference? He had to admit people like that corrupt officer may have let the power go to their head, but what difference was there in that from those in the highest seats of power? It seemed they tended to think of people as tools just as easily. It was like he noticed earlier: what was happening in Los Midas was merely a symbol; a symptom; of what was a nationwide, maybe even global epidemic….

He took in a deep breath. "Well, I don't know about the entire world, Dan, but soon all the people in this city that think they are above the law will have their realities come crashing down hard, if my ideas can be realized."

The gang leader looked up a bit at that response; a moment later, he formed a bit of an amused look. "Just what are these ideas of yours, Requiem? Come on—about time you explain just what the hell you're talking about!"

Richard looked up into the air and responded firmly, "I don't want to tell you everything 'til your comrades are here. However, I want this place because I need a base of operations to launch a revolution.

"The Valro Caverns will be the staging area, and Los Midas will be the first place where the sinful and corrupt learn that their vile ways will no longer be permitted."

Dan raised an eyebrow at this. "Just when I thought you weren't a nut, you pull out this. Seriously—words are one thing, but what do you plan to do? Los Midas is already full of nuts who just preach empty, fancy words!"

Richard made a dramatic hand gesture as he answered, "I plan to do more than talk; I plan to make my ideas become reality. After all that I have done thus far, I'd hoped you would see by now that I don't just rant empty promises. With this place as my base, and with a decent crew, I can change how things work in this city."

Dan took a deep breath. "Well, I guess I owe you enough to hear you out. Whatever—at least for now we've got a cool base…."

Voltaire sighed before adding, "Maybe; let's just make sure it's safe to start working on this not-so-humble hideout first. After how much a mess the kraidlon made, we'd all better get a Toxic Cleanser spell, just to be safe…and, to be extra-safe, I say we check around for any more unwanted surprises. Last thing we need is to have everything set up, only for mini-monsters to pop out of the ground and eat us in our sleep. It may be a pain, but I don't think anyone would mind finding monster eggs before they hatch. I guess it could be a good group project.

"No, it'll never be a vacation spot, but, with a few portable generators and the basic stuff, this will make a fine base of operations."

Richard walked to the edge of the Valro Caverns, took out his sword, and pointed Auro Solais into the air, declaring, "Indeed it will. All right—despite the surprises, we've secured our base. Now, contact your friends, Dan Nicholson—it's time to see if you and your comrades will help me start lighting the spark that will erupt to cover all of Marvados! The new era begins now!"