Entering or exiting the unhinged district of San Desquiciado wasn't the best idea at the moment.

Even though a few hours had already passed since it began, and despite the increasing number of casualties on both their forces, the turf war between the factions of Mary Glow and Lord Xavion looked to be far from ending. The turmoil was chaotic as can be with violence and fallen leaves littering the open streets within the entrance to San Desquiciado. Outside the district's boundaries, the safer town of Cameron's Feint remained untouched.

"Look into my eyes when I stare at you – Gaahaaahhuuk!"

A man wreathed in a dark hooded robe began to rise amid the turmoil. Gagging noises were all he could utter as the ground disappeared beneath his feet.

Slowly, he ascended toward the ceiling of a massive canopy that shadowed the battlefield. It wasn't long before another person wearing the same attire joined his side. And then two more ascended to their level.

All four of them belonged to the faction of Lord Xavion, Tyrant of the East. Seen as a cult gathering of fanatics, they were widely believed to have joined after being seduced into the possibility of learning the secrets of the same dark energy their Tyrant manipulated. Outsiders saw the fanatics as deranged at first, but with Lord Xavion proving his mystical abilities, again and again, their reasons for joining his cause started to sound less crazy. Still weird for the most part, though.

And that was why no one appeared to be surprised by how those people seemed to levitate.

As the four fanatics went up, someone else went down at the same pace until they met face-to-face.

「야! 모해~? 」

「Ya! Mo hai~?」

A young woman, whose toned figure and scanty clothes flaunted several colors of neon paint, lowered herself. With facepaint in the form of a permanent grin outstretched with fangs, she cheerfully greeted the four "levitating" people in robes while upside-down like a popular web-slinging superhero.

"Oh, what was thinking? You guys don't speak Kohrean." Mary Glow, the Tyrant of the West and leader of their opposing faction giggled with a bop to her head. "What I meant to say was, 'Hey! How's it hangin'?'"

The four fanatics continued to dangle, gagging and struggling in place.

"I'm sorry, what's that? Do you real~ly want your last words to be, 'ughhahukahka!" Mary Glow mimicked before breaking into a fit of giggling laughter.

Light reflected off the full moon and shined on them, revealing a long vertical line that she held on to with one hand while upside-down. Her other hand, balled into a tight fist, held more of those lines between her fingers – four in total, which were coiled around the necks of the gagging fanatics and fastened to hooked edges on her weapons of choice, throwing spikes.

The wires were both transparent and sturdy. Mary Glow had been using them to keep herself suspended while hanging four people at the same time, a feat made possible thanks to using the canopy's structure of bars like a crude pulley.

Before any of the fanatics could croak or lose their heads, a crescent projectile of ethereal darkness with glimmers of light flew above their heads and severed the wires before erasing them to nothing. Mary Glow managed to swing out of its way. The four fanatics were freed but also subjected to a 20-meter fall. It was thanks to the waiting arms of their comrades below that none of them fell to their deaths.

A disappointed Mary Glow kicked her legs back and forth, swinging herself until she gained enough momentum to shoot up and cannonball past gaps of iron bars and through one of the many holes in the canopy's ceiling. She landed crouching on its roof to find someone waiting for her.

"Ugh, blue-balled again." Her head drooped to the side, but the outstretched grin of her facepaint remained the same. "Thanks a bunch, Lord Spoilsport!"

Lord Spoilsport (actual[?] name: Lord Xavion), stood undeterred on the opposing end of the canopy.

"As always, the pleasure is mine," he said in a voice deeper than the abyss. Ethereal darkness shrouded his hands before he rushed forth. "And rightfully so!"

Distinguishable by whether their clothes were slathered in neon warpaint or not, hordes of people between the two factions fought tooth and nail on the streets.

At the same time, the two Tyrants fought without interference on top of the canopy.

"Tch!"

Locks of fiery hair flowed and darted as Mary Glow ducked, weaved, swerved, and zigzagged away from a barrage of punches and kicks. Dodging a strike, let alone many in rapid succession, was no easy task. Even worse, the canopy she stood on wasn't meant to be a platform.

It had uneven levels. This was the cost of what was once a fabulous design when the canopy was first built. There weren't many reliable footholds on its arching structure, and previous turf wars had riddled its roof with gaping holes.

Mary Glow had her background in gymnastics to thank for the careful sense of balance she exhibited while fighting on the uneven terrain. It took her years to develop that skill, which was why it ticked her off how her opponent turned out to be more agile than he looked, and how he continued to pressure her into evasive maneuvering.

"For someone who spends too much time on his knees in church, you sure can keep up," Mary Glow said between breaths.

"And thus, you know you're horribly mistaken!" Lord Xavion replied, spinning out a scything kick.

Mary Glow bent her entire torso backward and fell to that direction.

Landing on her hands to form a bridging pose, she was just in time to watch Lord Xavion's leg scrape the space above her. The proximity led her to squint and blow a begrudgingly impressed whistle as the force wind grazed her face. She was lucky to have executed such an advanced dodging maneuver at the last second.

That kick looked powerful enough to crush her bones had it struck clean, and that was assuming it was just the leg. It was actually unleashed while shrouded in the mysterious dark energy Lord Xavion had been known to emanate, and a flicker of that caught a lock of her long hair by its tip.

Lord Xavion followed-up with a dark blob of energy he formed in his hand, but Mary Glow, still bridged, flipped off the ground and kicked his arm up, deflecting her opponent's aim and hurtling the energy blast toward the sky instead. It dissipated after traveling a fair distance.

Mary Glow flung a throwing spike, intending to exploit her opponent's staggering from her last hit. Despite that, Lord Xavion managed to avoid the spiked projectile with only his baggy left sleeve getting nicked.

So why? Why was Lord Xavion now clutching his left arm like it was in so much pain? Mary Glow's confusion only grew cloudier when she also noticed a black substance dripping like blood from the sleeve's tear. Was her opponent pulling off a feint, or was this for real?

Either way, she couldn't afford to find the answer at the moment. There was a more pressing matter she had to deal with.

Performing a few more backflips to give herself some distance, Mary Glow drew another of the many throwing spikes she had on her person. Where exactly she pulled them out from was a mystery even her crew had no idea about.

Her left side-swept bang was still afflicted by the dark energy, and it was gradually disintegrating. She now had a guess of the consequences to come. That dark energy intended to consume her hair, and the idea of going bald was too horrendous for her to consider.

She used the throwing spike to sever her afflicted lock of hair. As the strands fell to the ground, they burned into nothingness before they could touch her feet.

Mary Glow then locked glares with her nemesis. The rumors that led to him standing in her way of conquering San Desquiciado's eastern section began to play.

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That mysterious dark energy was once believed to be nothing more than a simple magic trick. Lord Xavion was labeled a fraud at first, and this attracted a couple of critics who wanted to expose him in front of wider audiences.

The first critic was a traveling MMA fighter. He was on a personal mission to expose fake martial artists that claimed to possess mystical powers granted by their martial art, especially traditional ones originating from his nation. His endeavors went viral on streaming websites such as Yotube, especially the footage of him pulverizing a man who boasted that he could defeat opponents with invisible forces made possible through hand gestures. It only took the MMA fighter ten seconds to win, seven of which was spent letting his opponent show off his "powers."

The second critic was a scientist. He was more known for his strong Atheistic views rather than his field of science. His greatest source of joy was debunking anything science couldn't prove real like the existence of religious deities, and superstitious beliefs like the human soul. It was also a pleasure of his to humiliate those who believed in them.

At close but separate times, those two critics issued challenges for Lord Xavion to prove himself.

He accepted, after a lot of pressure, and proved his abilities were no magic trick.

The MMA fighter was slowly eaten alive to his very existence after Lord Xavion sent a surge of dark energy to his feet, and the scientist's head brutally exploded after he goaded Lord Xavion to blast him there. Both incidents spread the word on Lord Xavion's infamy with his victory over the MMA fighter leaking for a short while on Yotube. In contrast, his victory over the scientist was broadcasted on national television.

Nevermind proving his critics wrong. The only news brought to the public was that Lord Xavion was simply a deranged murderer of the innocent.

His pursuers were the main reason why Lord Xavion retreated to the safe haven for criminals, San Desquiciado. There, he gathered followers through promises that included sharing the secrets to harnessing the same dark energy he wielded. He also conquered the eastern section by directly assaulting its previous Tyrant, who had no idea on how to deal with his abilities.

It wasn't long before his goals expanded to capturing the remaining three turfs of the district.

As his reputation within the district grew, his followers began to worship him as a being beyond human. Some even thought of him as a [Renegade], but Lord Xavion had repeatedly denied that assumption.

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A pained howl rang across the canopy's roof and snapped Mary Glow out of her thoughts.

Thinking about her opponent's background while still locked in battle with him was not the smartest idea she'd ever conceived. At least she managed to think about enough.

Assessing the current situation, the sheer chills tingling her body warned her to take caution. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet.

A sinister shroud of darkness had enveloped Lord Xavion's body and it appeared to be causing him pain. His feet spread shoulder-width as his back arched into a bizarre pose. Then his hands joined together in front of himself to form a gesture.

Even stranger, Mary Glow witnessed the damaged fabric of his left sleeve reattaching its loose threads until the tear she made was no more.

Did his clothes just regenerate? How is that possible!?

From the shadow inside the hood of her opponent's robe, Mary Glow could've sworn she saw a pair of lips moving. The enveloping dark energy separated from Lord Xavion's body while taking on a form, becoming bulkier and feline, but also deformed and fragmented.

Mary Glow failed to catch the sequence of words that came out of Lord Xavion's mouth. She was too busy preparing to make a move from a beast of dark energy that rushed madly on four legs toward her. She jumped backward and threw a pair of throwing spikes at it, only for her weapons to sink into nothingness within its ethereal flesh.

She had a feeling her weapons wouldn't work. That's why also she jumped backward, in a way that allowed her to dive into one of the many gaping holes on the canopy's roof.

The beast followed her.

Like any massive structure, the canopy was built with supporting features to keep it from collapsing under its weight. Four pillars on its corners raised it high while its roof was kept stable thanks to a framework of iron bars, which was where Mary Glow arrived at after going through one of the roof's many holes.

It was like traversing through a jungle gym, except one mistake could mean a twenty-meter fall to the unforgiving pavement. Mary Glow's slender figure and parkour skills worked to her benefit as she ran, dove, swung, vaulted, and jumped through gaps and series of iron bars in the most efficient way possible.

Back on the canopy's roof, Lord Xavion dropped to a cross-legged sitting position and entered a meditative state. Not appearing even to breathe, the Tyrant of the East held still as his eyes closed themselves shut. His arms positioned themselves into a stance with his left hand pointing its index and middle fingers toward the sky, and the other hand pressing its fist against his left elbow.

Despite the lack of hindrances to her mobility, Mary Glow couldn't resist the urge to grit her teeth. She dared not to look back. The sounds from behind were enough to convey how she was faring, and it was gradually getting louder.

Mary Glow grabbed an iron bar and made a sharp, clockwise turn.

Lord Xavion flicked his left wrist to the right.

She jumped, grabbed an iron bar above herself, then swung counterclockwise.

He flicked his wrist up, then left.

She dropped through two "floors" of iron bars, landed in a crouch on another, then watched her path as she bounded herself backward before continuing to flee.

Lord Xavion flicked his wrist down, then toward himself.

Even after all that, it's still going after me!? Mary Glow was beginning to feel the sense of a desperate struggle that wasn't going to end well.

When Lord Xavion closed his eyes, he wasn't blocking out his sight. Instead, he had transferred it to the beast he conjured, and the flicks of his wrist was how he remotely controlled it.

That was why the dark energy beast maintained its chase even though its target was fleeing in random directions to confuse it. Lord Xavion didn't have to worry about what stood in the beast's path. Every iron bar it stepped on, and every iron bar in its way, they all disintegrated just a second after coming into contact with the beast. With that in mind, he only needed to focus on catching up, and that was why he was able to make the appropriate reactions whenever his prey tried to make a diversion

Mary Glow's pulse quickened. The dark energy beast was closing in faster than she could maneuver past the obstacles in her way. What that dark energy previously did to her hair came back to haunt her. At the rate things were going, she was as good as gone.

"Dammit, this sucks!"

It was after vocalizing her thought that she suffered a mild shock.

An iron bar she could've ducked under had collided with her forehead.

It was for reasons like this that she was trying not to look back earlier.

Rubbing the mild bump she received and without thinking, Mary Glow looked the other way – in time for the dark energy beast to fill her peripheral vision after it plowed through several more iron bars.

Snarling, Mary Glow prepared to reluctantly accept her encroaching demise.

The beast opened its fractured jaws after passing through another set of iron bars, only to dissipate into thin air before they could snap shut on their target.

That last moment of life or death nearly sent her into cardiac arrest. Mary Glow took solace in the fact that she was still breathing even though they were labored. She had no idea why she didn't die then and there, but she didn't let the thought stay for long and shelved it aside. It was more important to know that she was still alive.

Throughout the chase, the dark-energy beast caused tremendous damage to the canopy's skeleton. On top of that, two of the pillars that held its roof were on the verge of breaking. Destroying just one pillar might lead to a massive number of casualties.

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With the beast he conjured now gone, Lord Xavion woke up from his meditative state. With no Mary Glow or any other opponent atop the canopy with him, he took the opportunity to fall back to the safety of his faction's camp, which was set on the eastern edge of the battlefield.

At least moving around after overexerting himself was still doable. Jumping to nooks and crannies he could find on his way down the structure; Lord Xavion gradually lowered himself to the ground using footholds meant only for those who had the proper experience.

His throne was right where he left it. It was attached to a platform carried by his most capable followers in the safety of his camp. To get there, Lord Xavion walked up a short flight of stairs – made of other fanatics who went into formation the moment they saw him coming.

"Exalted one!"

Lord Xavion rested his weary head on a fist upon returning to the seat of his throne. He reluctantly gave audience to one of his fanatics, who approached and referred to him by one of his many secondary titles.

This fanatic looked to be on his last legs even though there weren't any signs of physical damage on him. He came to his Tyrant with arms around his stomach and was a little shaky in his movements. A sleek set of black clothes and a long, flowing scarf around his neck made his attire. A pair of hook swords were strapped to his back.

"What do you want, Jerald?" Lord Xavion asked for the sake of humoring the young man.

"It's Gerard," he corrected his Tyrant, a little irritated from doing so several times before. "Jerald's my brother. Anyway, I can understand how gaining the same powers as you would require tremendous sacrifice and all, but when will it end for me? How many more human hearts must I eat before I get to do the same things as you?!"

Some of the fanatics carrying their Tyrant's throne turned into mixtures of confusion. They, too, wanted to become capable of at least blasting dark energy from their hands, but what Gerard had been doing was different from the instructions they'd been given.

Lord Xavion gripped the armrest of his throne. Embers of dark energy seeped out of his fingers, allowing them to dig deep and leave permanent gashes in the material. It was palpable enough to make the followers carrying his throne freeze in terror and unlevel it for a moment.

Lord Xavion panned away from the turf war spectacle and took one glance at Gerard. Even with no eyes visible under his hood, what seemed to be a stare, petrified the young man and almost made him forget the churning in his stomach.

"Err... the same things as you, but at a much lower scale that'll never reach your level," Gerard rephrased in a hurry.

"Are you certain you have been doing it right?" Lord Xavion asked absentmindedly, bringing his attention back to observing the turf war while keeping a small percentage of focus on his subordinate.

"Yes, of course!" Gerard claimed and acted out. "Every chance I had, I hooked out the hearts of our enemies, squeezed blood from them straight into my open mouth, then ate the heart raw!" His arms wrapped themselves around his stomach. "Ugh... I think I just had my fifth; one of them was my girlfriend's."

Some of his fellow fanatics gawked at him.

"What? She was hinting that we were going to break up soon, I think," Gerard told them. "I just decided to make the first move."

"So... You think you ate only five?" Lord Xavion didn't bother to look at how his subordinate handled his personal life and how he seemed to be succumbing closer to nausea.

"Just thinking about the number is making me all queasy and stuff. I think I might – HUURP!"

A knot tightened around Gerard's throat and his face turned a gross shade of green. His hands blocked his mouth before something gross could gush out of it.

Lord Xavion lifted a hand in response and shrouded it with the very dark energy his followers both worshipped and feared.

"Soil the proximity around me, and I will make sure you never get the chance to regret it."

After a slight nod of acknowledgment, Gerard ran as far away as possible, stumbling along the way until he reached his limits and hurled out a disgusting puddle.

"Just so you know, that counts as losing one or two hearts," Lord Xavion called out to him. "Now you have to eat one or two more to make up for them, then continue where you left off. Remember me whenever you doubt the validity of these powers."

"Okay..."

It didn't matter whether or not Lord Xavion heard the response.

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Just like her opposing Tyrant, Mary Glow had a faction camp of her own, which stood on the western edge of the battlefield. Themed after the Tyrant herself, its general setup was like a frat party. The camp's perimeters were occupied with couches, boomboxes, synthesizers, foldable tables topped with snacks and alcoholic drinks, and many crates filled with weapons. Canisters of neon paint were all over the place too. The delinquents didn't solely use those for decoration.

One of the most notable parts of the camp's setup was a massive truck whose semi-trailer housed movable lights, megaphones attached to giant speakers, and a retractable concert stage. That was where a band had their instruments set up, and it was their job to rile up their fellow delinquents into a raving battle rage through the faction's favored style of music: Symphonic Metal. It was an upbeat subgenre that combined the compelling atmosphere of an Orchestra with the heaviness of Power Metal.

With those characteristics in mind, the camp was expected to be a noisy place. It was, but not in the way they wanted it to be. Almost all of the delinquents partaking in the turf war had already been deployed into the battlefield. Only a select few stayed behind at the camp, and for some reason, they weren't playing music.

"Things... are not looking good, you guys."

A girl was performing reconnaissance on the turf-war through a pair of binoculars. She was seated on a stool behind an electronic drum set with both her elbows propped on its snare drums. Like most of her fellow delinquents, she was a young adult rocking out in urban streetwear and contact lenses decorated with neon paint. Green and violet were this girl's choices of color.

"Great. Just what I didn't need to hear!"

A complaint from one of the other three delinquents nearby startled her. The complainer wore splotches of blue and orange paint, and the two colors were mostly found around the rips and tears of his distressed pants, blazer, and his fedora.

"Can it, River! You're scaring Niko again!"

Another delinquent joined in. She was a blonde whose long hair drew clear lines with how layered and straight they were. The neon colors she considered fitting for herself were yellow and pink, the latter running as mad streaks through her hair. Of course, there was also paint of those colors decorating her contact lenses and clothes -- a black eastern schoolgirl uniform complete with a laced mini-skirt and striped thigh-high socks.

"Pff... Like I sounded scary compared to that." River pointed his head toward a distant, loud, and piping musical instrument on the side of Lord Xavion's faction. At the same time, he struggled to bust out a solo jam session on his electric guitar.

"Oh? Sounds like you're doing it so you could try to cheer her up later," the blond teased.

River stopped pressing tabs and squinted his eyes. "What are you playing at, Dolly?"

"Guys, please."

The fourth and last delinquent with them, whose red and purple paint complimented his choice of streetwear, tried to mediate peace between the two. "Shouldn't we be focusing on finding a way to—"

""SHUT UP, CHESTER!"" River and Dolly shouted together.

Chester yelped and, faster than a scurrying mouse, hid shivering behind his synthesizer keyboard, which didn't do wonders as a hiding spot.

Niko, River, Dolly, and Chester. They were the four musicians that made up Mary Glow's Symphonic Metal band. Unlike most of their fellow delinquents, they were allowed to slather two colors of their choice on both their clothing and contact lenses, the latter of which made their eyes look like they had heterochromia. It just goes to show that wearing more than one color of neon paint signified a higher level of importance in the Tyrant of the West's faction.

"C'mon, we both know it," Dolly taunted, hands perched on her shapely hips. "Heck, almost everyone in the crew knows it."

River crossed his arms and scoffed to the side. "Knows what?"

A sly smirk bared itself across Dolly's face. "That you drop the tough-guy act and turn into a big softie when it's just you and Niko?"

River's face glowed neon red, and he wasn't wearing paint of that color there or anywhere else on his person. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Well..." Niko inserted herself into their argument, thumbs pushing against each other. "I've never heard you yell or say mean things whenever the others aren't around. And you're always asking if I need help bringing my drums around, so... to me, you're the sweetest and nicest guy in the crew, River."

It was only natural that white smoke would burst out of River's ears.

"Hah!" Dolly turned away as her shoulders did a shrug. "Your weakness has spoken. I rest my case."

"That's it!" Static feedback crackled as River pulled out the cable that connected his electric guitar to an amplifier. Now holding his instrument by its neck, he improvised it as a giant hammer. "If no one's gonna shut your sassy mouth, I volunteer!"

"Ooh! Somebody wants to tussle!" Dolly did the same, except her instrument and also makeshift weapon was a bass guitar, both bigger and heavier than River's tool. "Don't worry. I promise I'll break everything except your arms." She pondered a gaze into the sky. "And maybe your face."

"What for?" River asked flatly.

"Poor Niko wouldn't be happy if she had to look at your ugly mug after I mess it up. But then again, it's already a face even a mother wouldn't love."

"No it's not, you bitch!"

"I-I wouldn't be happy at all if there's fighting within the crew!" Niko appealed.

River saw how she tried to intervene, and slowly lowered his weapon. Dolly raised an eyebrow.

"Last chance," River warned. "Take back everything you said and apologize. Do that, and I'll forgive you on the spot."

"You know what? Fine," Dolly said, planting the head of her bass guitar to their stage floor. One of her hands searched a pocket of her uniform. "In fact, I prepared one in advance. Made it by hand with all my feelings put into it." A sneaky grin flashed before River's eyes. "And here it is!"

Her "apology" was, indeed, made by hand. All fingers were folded except the middle – a gesture so obscene that it would have to be pixelated if it was shown on TV.

"YOU ASKED FOR IT, DOLLY!!!"

A raging River kicked the ground behind himself and charged. Dolly slid one foot away for a stance and raised her bass, preparing for a clash of guitars.

"God, I just love it when you're pissed!" she admitted, hands twisting their grip tighter around her bass' fretboard.

"RRRRAAAAAHHHHH!!!" River's battle cry intensified as the distance between them shortened. Dolly's heart raced, increasing in both frequency and intensity.

"That's right." Her grin stretched so far; it threatened to tear her cheeks. "Let's do it real close."

*Ping!*

River gasped and skidded to a stop, right before he could reach a decent distance away from Dolly. He and Dolly couldn't control the nervous twitching that took over their eyes.

""Aww, shit.""

A throwing spike had impaled the wooden stage floor between them, and their instant recognition of its shape and neon highlights meant only one thing.

"What's this I'm seein', Dolly Wheeler? River De Sena?"

Transparent wires screeched as a familiar voice rang from above.

For it to mention their names in such an unusually calm but firm manner caused both to break out in sweat.

Rooted in place and at a loss for words, River and Dolly had nowhere to look but up.

Looming over them from a wire and shooting a glare they preferred to be aimed at anyone else was Mary Glow, the Tyrant they served.

She dropped to a crouch landing between them before yanking her throwing spike out of the stage floor.

"H-heya, Mary!" Dolly managed to say and hastily hid her bass guitar behind her back. "Glad to see you made it back alri—"

Her head reared back, a natural reaction that happened unless she wanted to get stabbed by the throwing spike pointing against her throat.

"Glad to see you and River are gettin' along," Mary Glow said, her usually hyperactive voice taking a condescending turn. River gloated over the attention Dolly was receiving, but another throwing spike that lanced close to his throat kept him quiet, save for a cautionary gulp.

"Niko, what's the sitch?" Mary Glow asked the female drummer, who squealed at the mention of her name.

"As usual, we're outnumbered with our enemies covering most of the streets..." Niko began. Meanwhile, Dolly reared her head back further after feeling the tiniest poke of a rattling throwing spike. "And we haven't been able to play our music since the turf war started, so..." Now it was River's turn to lean back further from an encroaching throwing spike. "We're kinda on the losing end."

The throwing spikes stopped rattling. River and Dolly sighed in relief, only to be pulled closer to their Tyrant and each other's faces from a double-headlock.

"Oy, oy, did you guys hear that?" Mary Glow alternated between them, her hands still holding a throwing spike against their throats. "I'm just tryin' to conquer the eastern section, you know? And remember when I said it wasn't just for me, but for all of us so we can live happily... ever... after?" River and Dolly gagged and tried to tap out as the chokehold on them got tighter in sync with the last three words. "But it turns out things aren't goin' our way, so we need to do somethin' OTHER THAN LET THE LEAD GUITARIST AND BASSIST BASH EACH OTHER'S HEADS IN!!!"

Mary Glow released the two, spinning her throwing spikes around her fingers before pocketing them away. "You guys can do what you want with each other after the eastern section falls into our hands. For now, kiss and makeup."

That condensation in her voice did the trick. River and Dolly's astonished faces proved it as they caught their breath while downed on all fours. River leaned closer -- Dolly started to go meek with red – only for River to stick his tongue out and blow her a raspberry. He pulled his tongue back in when Dolly tried to bite it off by surprise.

Shooting one last look at the odd couple, Mary Glow approached the other two members who formed her band.

"Hey, Chesty." Her voice sweetened for the one who peeked and shivered from behind his synthesizer keyboard. "Did those two yell at you again?"

A meek nod.

"Aw, you poor thing. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. But I am now!"

Knowing what was up next, Chester tried to back away as the malicious grin on Mary Glow's face stretched further. "H-hang on now's not a good time for thiiiis--!"

A pair of slender, but strong arms circled his chest. It didn't take much effort for Mary Glow to pick Chester up with a bearhug and gently swing him around the same way an older girl would show affection to a child she considered cute. That was precisely the case -- Chester was only ten-years-old, but like almost everyone in Mary Glow's faction, he too was a student of Cameron's Feint University.

A recovered River and Dolly, as well as Niko, struggled to put down their snickering at the public display of affection.

"Anything else, Niko?" Mary Glow asked next. Meanwhile, Chester's vocal protests were ignored as he flailed his short legs in a vain attempt to escape his Tyrant's clutches.

"Ahahaha...Ahem." Niko let out the last of her snickering then cleared her throat. "We'd be more than happy to get rockin', but we can't. Not with that pipe organ of theirs making all those noises."

Now that Mary Glow thought about it, that was precisely the case since this turf war started. She must've been too busy fighting Lord Xavion to get disturbed by that melodramatic music. Only now was it grinding her gears. It was a shame the rest of her crew lacked the same level of tolerance she had.

"Niko's right." River took occasional glances at the girl with cat-ear headphones, hoping for at least an appreciative smile for his compliment. "And they've been playing that old-school music for hours!"

"Seems like they've learned something from our last encounter and tore a page off our book," Dolly said with a finger caressing her lower lip. "But its lack of 'oomph' doesn't make it sound even decent as fight music."

Mary Glow listened on while nuzzling her cheek against Chester's, who had given up on his struggle now that he accepted his resistance was futile. His hormones were still too immature to enjoy the affection, though.

"I'm all-in to fighting fire with fire!" River declared. "But a battle of the bands doesn't mean more than one band plays at the same time. It's too difficult for us to concentrate when they're still playing that thing on full-blast and on loop."

"""Yeah...""" the rest of the band agreed.

"Is that so?" Mary Glow let Chester down but ruffled a hand to his hair for one last affectionate gesture, much to his annoyance. "If our crew is having a hard time because the music doesn't fit the mold, then I'll just have to make a personal appearance and show our soldiers that I've got their backs. Anyone got a canister of paint and a paper bag?"

Both objects came flying to her from the side. Catching them with one hand, Mary Glow shook the canister of paint, then sprayed it into the paper bag.

"What's the color?"

That was the question she asked herself before she stuck her face into the paper bag and took a nice, long whiff of paint fumes.

"Red." Her lips stretched alongside its face paint to the limit of her cheeks. "Like what Lord Deadbeat's faction will be when we're through with them."

Niko, the one who tossed the items her Tyrant requested, approached with both hands joined together. "Watch yourself out there, okay, Mary?"

"I will," Mary Glow promised and prepared to leap off their concert stage and go back into the fray. "Start tuning up the band. The tables will turn once I smash that pipe organ to bits!"