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For the next few days Corvayne trained at the warehouse, using instructing his 'pupils' as a break from training. Seru was having trouble with fighting weapon users barehanded and had been allowed while sparring to use her ability to catch weapons where there were no blades. Gary was showing up to sessions looking tired and sometimes beat up but over three days Corvayne was pretty sure the young man looked more in shape then he had seen him before and suspected that one of the 'Towers' was somewhere nearby. Brines was learning to use the fire breathing dagger as both a knife and a make-shift flamethrower, his high endurance allowing him to use the weapon for almost as long as Corvayne could before tiring. Corvayne and Wick had, by luck, sold him a perfect fit for what he was already good at. With the sessions happening in the day on mats in the warehouse, he ended up on day two with an audience of five people. His audience watching him guide the newbies through fighting with spears included both security guards, the two huge enforcers who ran one of Dawn's buildings down the street, and even the delivery woman who had checked him out back on his first day at the warehouse.

Each time he set them up with an exercise he would then throw himself at Nyxion, Lady Blood Claw, Grunt when he didn't vanish for hours at a time, and even a round with Dawn's right hand guard Nepthia using blunted arrows, which proved to be the most fun he could have with the looming threat of the monk. When they were not training, Nyxion had them rig up more possible traps all around the neighborhood.

Corvayne at first objected, as he did not want to kill bystanders, but walking to the noodle counter for take out with Grunt he saw that what Nyxion had told him about the chance of that happening was correct. Old Town was emptying out, the milling masses gone. When he saw people they tended to be in groups, pointing and talking or moving with purpose to one of the roads that would take them out of town. Corvayne asked the woman behind the counter if she knew what was up.

“It's the end of everything. People are getting crazy powers, and a whole bunch of religions say the end is near. People in Old Town, with nothing? A bunch of them went to the weird portal they found on Mare island. They called it a Tower, people get stronger when they come out. They say something it's like an RPG? If I didn't have a kid to look after, I might consider it. Just can't risk dying and leaving him alone, you know? I mean, unless you guys are down for helping an old lady out. Might be worth a few meals, eh?”

Corvayne shook his head. “I don't think you're very old, miss.”

She laughed. “Look at this shameless flirt! No wonder you and Wick are an item.”

Corvayne looked over at Grunt, who was whistling and looking away innocently. For someone who didn't speak he sure ran his mouth a lot. The thought made him smile.

“What would you want out of a tower run? We have to deal with a dangerous criminal in the area first, but that might be a thing we do, act as tour guides through towers.”

The woman nodded. “I'd trust you if you told me you could handle it yourself. You know, has ever tell you that you seem, I don't know, solid? I like you, what's your name?”

“Corvayne.” He offered his hand, and was surprised that the woman's hands were as rough as his.

“Ayame. Do they have things in there that help you cook?”

“Yes.” He produced a spoon he and Wick had tested once they were both fully thawed out. “Stirring with this sweetens a drink without ruining the other tastes. I was considering trying it on the soup today but the idea of ruining the broth seemed painful.”

“Well boy, don't use it on yourself because you already are too sweet on an old aunt like me. Oh a magic spoon! Something like that for noodles, maybe a cooking super power, maybe another that made me look younger, I'd love those! But then if I was pretty and such a good cook I'd have Dawn after me for trying to steal her man!” She nudged Grunt.

Grunt shook his head and stood straight, but then pretended to wipe sweat off his brow which made Ayame laugh.

“Oh you kidder. I know, that's why you're good for her. She used to be so... down.” Ayame finished putting the last of the order in a container. “You sure you don't want any pine Corvayne? It's supposedly good for virility.”

Like half the things in Mister I's jars, which also probably tasted worse. “I think I do fine in that department. Listen, Miss Ayame? I'm a little worried that we're going to have a brawl in the streets, sometime soon. Maybe tonight, maybe in a few days. I don't want to scare you off, but do you have somewhere safe to go? Maybe for a few days?”

The woman looked a little scared. “Is my stand in danger? Dawn can handle it. She was a... you know, Grunt?” The woman saw Grunt nod, then Ayame leaned in and lowered her voice. “She was a mob boss.”

Corvayne shook his head. “I don't know if Dawn is tough enough to scare him off. I've had Mister I tell people to take a few days and stay with family, if possible. This is the same guy who trashed downtown.”

Ayame nodded. “Okay. Thank you for the warning. Though, I think a lot of us who've been here a long time, we probably won't leave. This is the spot we got pushed to by life, you know? It was this or be a farmer. So... kick his ass for us! And try not to hurt the stand, otherwise you might starve!” She shoved the packed bags into Grunts hands, then handed Corvayne a third bag as well as a little paper bag. He somehow knew, even before he opened it to check, that it contained a huge pile of the cooked pine needles.

Ayame winked at him. “They are also good for getting your blood up... for fighting!”

Everyone that had been training together as well as Mister I was waiting for him to get back. The plan for the evening was to eat noodles and watch a movie on couches that Corvayne had moved using his ring. The empty streets stressed him out a little. The air felt heavy, as if something was about to happen. Movie night was a welcome break. More and more over the past week he had taking to new distractions with relish. It was perfectly reasonable to have a little fun now since he was likely to come out the other end with a showdown with the monk badly mangled given his recent track record.

Grunt had picked a movie that Corvayne needed to see according to Grunt's list which he found shifted depending on what Grunt had watched the previous night. This one was pretty good, and had laser swords and a handsome boy rescuing a girl on a spaceship, which he thought was romantic until Wick told him that they were brother and sister. Still, looking at the monolithic black armored bad guy, and moving into the second one where they revealed the evil warrior was his DAD made Corvayne laugh aloud and slap his knee... it was a nice movie even if Seru complained that the effects were cheesy and the third remake was better.

They were about to start the third one, when Dawn and Nepthia showed up, turning the lights on.

Dawn strode up to the ring of seats around the chalkboard. “Get ready. Helicopters all over town.”

“Shit” Wick stood up, and Dawn held up a hand.

“Wick. Everyone. Come to my place. You don't have to fight this guy alone.”

Wick shook her head. “Dawn, I appreciate it, but I know your weakness. I can't live my life in an old train station forever. Besides, we got a plan.”

Dawn was getting pulled by her assistant. “And? What's your plan?”

Corvayne stood up and stretched, grabbing his spear and his new whip. “Run him in circles then beat him like a drum.”

Corvayne couldn't quite see miles from his perch far above the streets of Old Town. It was dark out and the rain blurred lights past a certain point into a latent glow. But from the lip of the smokestack he could see two of the bridges into town, including the one he had strode in on. The little platform he was on would give him no room to fight on, but Corvayne was calm, even being two hundred feet in the air.

From his perch, the sound of helicopters converging overpowered the rattle of trains and the howl of the highway that defined Old Town to Corvayne's ears. Despite giving Dawn snappy lines, the real first stage of the fight was man vs. chopper. The problem of him having possibly seven extra bodies didn't make Corvayne happy, but having a ground to air battle was unacceptable. He was going to even those odds.

He kept a brand new disposable phone by his ear, listening to Wick try to sort everything out as she took reports from Dawn's people and a few volunteers who refused to leave her high and dry.

Wick spoke and he could hear her handling papers as she spoke, “Final count is four helicopters. Dawn's people reported two monks walking into town.”

Corvayne nodded. “Six targets at least. So... maybe he's holding one back, probably at the spaceport, and one is probably camped at the portal.”

He paused. “Did they see one wearing blue?”

Wick was very even, perhaps having taken something to level herself out before the battle. “Three of them wearing blue according to the report.”

Corvayne rolled his eyes. If he was going to hide as a clone user, how would he do it? Establish a pattern then change it. He was pretty sure from the report he read that Argyle had full sensory feedback from all his temporal clones too. As in, the monk would be coming with a full assessment of Corvayne's skills. Well, maybe not full. It would be hard to tell his use of gravity powers from general super strength.

The only benefit was that he didn't have any assessment of anyone else in the group. Six clones, the real one probably mixed in. They had to kill six super powered monks without anyone dying. Piece of cake. Or he should say, he had to kill ONE of them and then the rest should die. Might die. He sent a text to Seru. 'Add to questions: Do fire and forget powers stay on after you are dead?'

She sent back some parentheses and dots around a Y. Corvayne assumed it was some code he'd understand if he grew up on Cascadia and put his phone away, waiting for the signal to start. It as possible Argyle would figure out where he was from his first shot, but he'd get at least one good one in. He lined up four metal orbs on the lip of the smokestack, all arrayed for him to easily grab and throw.

Staring out at the rainy night he traced the path of three choppers against the industrial lights and reflection. Good enough. He was ready when the first flare went up, causing all the vehicles to slow and turn to it, even if it was only long enough for their tail to swish before they started evasive action.

Corvayne smiled, and grabbed the first orb, decreasing it's weight before he grabbed the chain and started building up momentum. He then activated [Expert Throw], the skill letting him make a small adjustment before he whipped the orb at a helicopter. The moment it left his hand he grabbed the next chain, dropped it's weight, then whipped it a chopper. He snatched the last one and used his gravity power, scanning the skyline for a third target and he saw a helicopter veering his way. He hurled the orb and jumped from his ledge, using gravity to slow his fall. Above him was a clacking sound. He landed and looked up as the smokestack exploded in a bloom of green.

He used his shadow hands to check for seeds and rushed to the main road, keeping his eyes above and to the sides. He heard one helicopter still, so he hoped everyone else was staying out of sight. He made it a block before he spotted a figure shift into the road. A monk in purple robes, with a long rod of steel as a weapon.

There was just a moment where they looked at each other, making Corvayne smirk a little bit as he thought of the old cowboy stories.

“Argyle! This town ain't big enough for the two of us.” He called out.

The monk sneered and raised a hand. “Fine! Then die!”

Corvayne readied himself as Argyle popped forward two hundred feet in an instant. Corvayne dragged his spear across the ground, using [Cross Skill: Thresh] to lay down thin lines of shadow, forming a half circle which he backed away from.

The clone vanished and Corvanye felt his right shadow touch something, so he dove left, chips of concrete spraying by him as he pivoted and [Thrust] aiming for the monk's shoulder as he turned. All four of his shadow hands speared with him, driving five points into Argyle's torso. Corvayne leapt back, knowing the hits were shallow. He saw the staff blur as Argyle brought it back up, tip inches from him as the Monk jabbed out, then swung and swung, each attack pushing Corvayne backwards to avoid a follow up. The monk vanished and Corvayne rolled forward and to the right, feeling something pass by his head as he kept moving, using his boots to give him some distance as he spun, seeing Argyle coming in swinging. He used [Cross Skill: Thresh] to gouge a pair of lines. The monk simply forced himself through the grasping hands, some of the threads of shadow snapping.

Trailing black, the monk's staff snaked forward and Corvayne twisted with a blow that glanced off his armor, knocking him a step back and bruising his side. The sting of pain brought fear, and Corvayne dodged the efficient flurry of blows, each one pushing him a step back. The monk appeared right in front of him and Corvayne used [Juxtapose] and nearly tripped after sliding around the monk. He was filled with sudden panic as he became sure he was going to fail. He forced himself to try to jab with his spear but the monk just batted it away, then swung. His vision filled with mist a moment before he was sent flying down the street, each roll dizzying him as he hit concrete over and over. The pain then spiked from his side, where the staff had smashed his ribs.

Corvayne got to his feet as the Monk sauntered over, staff on his shoulder and a cruel smile on his face. “You couldn't even-”

An arrow slammed into Argyle's face and a moment later swarms of insects exploded outward from the wound. Corvayne stumbled back as the Monk vanished, then dropped to the ground as he felt the monk move behind him, an attack brushing his shoulder as it flew by. He heard screaming and rolled away as another arrow slammed into the back of the monk, swarms of bugs crawling all over Argyle who was trying to push the biting insects off, dropping his staff a moment. Corvayne met Argyle's eyes through the swarm of insects, then they both dove for the weapon. Corvayne's fingers brushed it, then pulled it into his ring.

Argyle screamed and tried to kick Corvayne, who felt his flagging energy coming back as he did a proper roll backwards into a standing position with his spear. The disarmed monk rushed forward, but his fists meant he had to rush at Corvayne. He had not gotten any slower but Corvayne put everything into his reach advantage, punishing punches with retalitory [Cross Skill: Bleeder] strikes. The three serious jabs he landed were trickling out blood now. The monk flickered behind Corvayne, who whirled and used [Cross Skill: Sweep] at the same time Argyle tried to grab him, his spear hitting what felt like a tree trunk and managing to cause Argyle to stumble and overbalance, tripping over Corvaye's back which hurt, but let him turn and draw his oversized cleaver with his shadow hands.

He used [Butchery] and watched as blood streaks followed the wicked curved weapon down, slamming into the monks back as he kept hammering blows into the monk rending his robe and back into bloody tatters. Argyle was tough, trying to get Corvayne in a leg lock. He saw it and leapt with gravity boosting him twelve feet up, then held his cleaver above his head two handed and used [Cross Skill: Leap Strike] as he brought the weapon down. The monk vanished as Corvayne hit the pavement then rolled, letting go of his cleaver as he rolled backwards, then pivoted and drew his fire-breathing knife as his shadow hands jabbed forward, skewering the monk who was reaching for his cleaver. Corvayne twisted the handle as he slammed it into Argyle's chest, blasting fire into the wound and cooking his own hands with the heat of the flame going off.

Argyle screamed in pain before something popped and suddenly Corvayne was shooting fire through a pile of garbage. He let the dagger's fire die down and found a wall to lean against as he pulled out one of the home made healing potions that Mister I had made. He drank the bitter fluid as he scanned for Mister I and found the older man wave on a shadowy perch on a rooftop under the steel frames of a train line. He saw his friend wave then vanish as they stepped back into the dark.

He pushed himself off his wall and retrieved his cleaver. He felt the broken bits of rib mending and shift around in him as the makeshift potion got to work. He was lucky he had his armor, if not for it he'd have broken half the bones in his body. Still, five clones to go, with the real one mixed up in there. He'd have the best chances fighting at the train yard, but as another Argyle was running down the street he detoured into a garbage choked alleyway. Behind him he slashed a few times with [Cross Skill: Thresh] and lines of darkness along the ground and walls made him feel better about his chances of staying ahead of the monk.

While weaving around garbage he heard swearing behind him, then the crash of the monk blasting apart the walls and ground. Once more he was back to running as a blue robed monk appeared behind him. He felt a brick fly past him, only seeing it a moment before exploded on a wall, shards flying into him but not slowing him even as he felt a dozen cuts open up.

He ran around a corner, heading back towards the street. He heard a helicopter ahead, and slowed. He looked around then up, channeled his gravity then soaring up to the third story roof, taking a moment to breath then hurrying to a dark spot near a train track support. He pulled out an anti-helicopter orb and waited, either for the monk to appear over the lip of the roof or for the helicopter to be over him where he could attack it from it's blind spot. He took a moment to pull his phone out and make a call to the group line.

He whispered. “Checking in, one clone down, one in pursuit and a helicopter over here. By Copper Mill road.”

Wick sounded surprised. “You beat one? Corvayne, I got-”

Corvayne paused talking as he heard something breaking below him. Quickly he used his shadow hands and found a bamboo seed stuck to the back of his coat.

“Can't talk, chopper about to fire on me.” Corvayne shut the phone off and put it away then infused the bamboo seed with gravity, dropping it's weight to near nothing. He had a shadow hand hold it up and only dropped it as he moved under the steel tracks, keeping it as cover as the seed started to fall slowly.

He heard the helicopter getting close as he jogged under the train tracks, nearing the other end of the building before he stepped out while spinning another scrap bola, channeling gravity then launching it at the helicopter from it's side as it blasted the spot he had left the seed. He then canceled his power as the metal orb hit the helicopter and shattered the wall, cracking the entire shell of the construct and dropping a monk thirty feet to the rooftop. He didn't wait, cleaver sliding into his hand as he moved to get behind the stunned figure and used [Cross Skill: Dismember], the attack severing one of the Argyle clone's hands. He saw a window shatter and jumped off the roof, using gravity to land safely on all fours and then run back out to the street. Looking behind him he saw a blue robed Argyle staring down at him.

Corvayne flipped him off, because why not? Then he kept running down Copper Mill road as two more Argyles came out from between buildings ahead of him. He stopped as they both teleported towards him, turning and running away from the location and towards a train station. He threw behind him some lines of shadow, then slowed to a stop as a dozen pine trees sprung into existence in front of him, choking the alleyway in trees. No way out up, tracks and roads blocked the space above the alley off. Sideways, then.

He used [Cross Skill: Sundering Strike] with his cleaver on a window then jumped into the dark factory beyond. He could make out that the floor had gaps and rows of machines. He ran and crouched and pulled his cloak over his head, using his hands to check for seeds before he started creeping back the way he came. He heard a wall crumple, and the sound of grit being crunched as at least one Argyle clone enter the factory.

He really needed backup! He didn't like his odds fighting. He looked at a hole in the floor, then quickly crept to it then lowered himself, using gravity to help him feel under the floor for a metal beam above the abyssal dark under the floor. No sign of the floor even with his darkvision, but it wasn't time to worry about that. He flipped himself and hung away from the hole, steadying his breathing as he heard the footsteps above him. Then another pair. Then another set, from a different side. A fourth, then a fifth. Maybe six sets of footprints.

A sing song voice called out. “Come out come out wherever you are, you stupid gym rat!”

“We know you're here.” Argyle again.

“No way out.” Another Argyle called.

He pulled his knees up close to his chest, to be sure that someone glancing down into the murk wouldn't spot where he was holding himself up. He didn't think his arms would give out, but using powers always drained him. He heard someone on the other side of the beam he hung on going down steps, and saw a flashlight sweep across the dark. He used gravity as hard as he could, forcing himself to be nearly weightless as he twisted so that he was mostly wedged laying flat in half the I-beam, trying to keep his breathing even as the flashlight flickered across beams and the ceiling. The monk in the basement stepped onto the floor, which sloshed. Corvayne took a steady breath, using his hand and keeping most of his body rigid to avoid falling, he grabbed a potion of strength. He could hear sloshing and see the cone of light would soon shine around and up to him.

He was about to drink the potion and try to fight his way out when there was a bang, and he could hear feet scuffling. The one in the water sloshed through it then he heard footsteps running up steps. After a few moments there were no more monks above.

He silently unfurled to hang in the dark, then pulled himself hand over hand to a column holding the grid of beams up and shimmied down it, gravity power fading out once he reached the water. He took a moment to breath, then stepped through the water, listening for Argyle as he made his way through the darkened basement and up the stairs to the ruined ground floor.

He crept out of a hole in the wall that Argyle likely made and watched for clones. He started to pick up speed as he reached the road and started heading for the trainyard.