Foxtail stayed motionless in her little corner of the warehouse for what felt like forever. She wasn’t able to hear anything aside the occasional metallic groan of the building or the skittering of rats in the garbage piles below. She slithered out of the boxed crevice and made careful steps towards an overseeing room. What little light shined through the cracks of the roof glinted against the sharp edges of the broken window. The floor was glittered with glass shards and Foxtail tiptoed through them. She inspected every crevice laboriously to avoid the mistake of tripping up another trap like she had a moment ago.

Foxtail picked up the pace as she gained confidence, gliding through the floor with a calculated efficiency, avoiding the surprising number of sound based devices littering the upper floors. There were threads tied to cans like the one at the front door but there were also railings with thin pieces of thread tied to paint buckets below as well as large pieces of glass tucked in the darkness to avoid detection.

Her eyes glanced towards a particularly large and reflective shard. Foxtail picked it up and paid another blood price to contact Peepers. She made sure to keep her finger on her lips to keep him from making any noise. With how the Banshee was so quick to find her at the end of the warehouse, making noise this close to her target would be the end of her.

Or force an early exit of the mission.

The blood seeped into the mirror like magic and a section of Peepers face appeared on the mirror. Seeing the finger on her lips stopped him from making a statement. He probably knew she was inside if he paid attention to her background.

How close do you plan to get… maybe a little too close for our own good… The wraith echoed in her skull, a fleeting emotion of whimsy making Foxtail more irritated than discouraged.

“I plan to get as close as I’m able. The others need this.” Foxtail replied in her mind. She could hear it now, the faint pit pats of steps on the ground beneath her. The Banshee was pacing in the distance.

Pacing in front of the hostages.

Foxtail saw Peepers, eyes glazed over while his sense connected to the glass she held in her hand. The Meister next to him was slumped over. Whether he was breathing or not was not distinguishable from the distance. There was someone else next to the both of them but Foxtail couldn’t make them out from this distance.

The Banshee wasn’t paying attention to Peepers, preoccupied with a sleek white paper in her hands.

Foxtail conjured a fox hole and emerged on scaffolding perpendicular to the hostage situation below. She kept her body low as she inspected the open space through the grated flooring. The Meister was still breathing, although barely, with blood caked on his clothes and pooled beneath him. Sections of his skin were finely flayed, red sinews exposed to the elements. The mystery individual at the end of the lot was Maw. Why Maw was here, she couldn’t understand, but he was a gravely injured man. He was missing an arm and drenched in crimson, face puffed up with black and purple bruises. He was conscious and although he was tied up and battered beyond belief, his eyes were glaring at the Banshee with a quiet and measured fury. He had no covering on his mouth, and yet this was the first time that she’d ever seen Maw express his anger with such contemptuous silence.

She shifted her attention down to the person she cared most about. Her poor Peepers was injured but nothing his current constitution couldn’t handle. His time out in the streets tempered his frail form somewhat. She just didn’t know if he was at his breaking point yet. Foxtail pulled the piece of glass out and Peepers stared back at her and made a nod before opening his eyes down below.

“Excuse me,” Peepers began with a meek voice, “Why are you doing this to us?” The Banshee turned around and stared at Peepers with an inscrutable expression.

She pulled down the scarf around her mouth and spoke in a cold and curt voice, “Are you going to bother with this question again?” She stood there and waited for a response.

“I still don’t get what we did wrong to be stuck in here with you.” Peepers replied, taking haggard breaths with every couple of words.

“You know the answer, kid. It isn’t anything personal for you. You were just an opportunity to take advantage of.” She sighed as she made her statement and began to return to her document.

“Is it because of Foreigner? We helped him and now you’re looking to hurt me for it?” Peepers struggled to push the words as quickly and cohesively as possible. She looked up back at him.

“Is that what you’ve been referring to him as? Foreigner? Mr. Arenas? How fitting a name and you wouldn’t even comprehend why.” The Banshee strides over to Peepers and stares into his crystalline eyes, “But I’m sure you can get it if you put two and two together. You’re surprisingly bright for a slumdog.” She forced a toothy smile and turned away. “But it does have me curious; why are you suddenly so interested in this information? Does it have anything to do with the potential intruder in the warehouse?”

Foxtail had to restrain a gulp. Her contingency outside was in place and she needed to only have the thought to escape from this situation. Peepers made an audible gulp of his own and maintained eye contact.

“It was something that came to mind as you ran off. I know you’re offering us as hostages to Foreigner in exchange for his submission to you. I know how I tie into all of this, regardless of your opportunity comment. I don’t understand why Maw and the Meister are here. Was it because Maw messed with Foreigner when he was running blind through the streets? Did you force the Meister down here because he can unlock Foreigner’s memories and you-” The Banshee smacked Peepers hard across the face, knocking him to the side.

“You shouldn’t get careless like that, kid. You’ve overstepped your boundaries. All that intelligence but not enough experience to keep you from saying the wrong things at the wrong times.” The Banshee lifted Peepers up from the ground and rubbed at his cheek. “And you’ve shown your hand.” She raised the scarf to her mouth and the fabric grew alight with activity. “Come out little rat. I know you’re around here.” Her voice modulated and her body sprung up to the second floor scaffolding immediately.

Foxtail reactively pulled herself out of the warehouse and controlled every muscle in her body from not bolting in a random direction. She knew someone was around but couldn’t pinpoint where-

“Click…” A deep clicking noise passed through Foxtail. “Click…” The noise happened again, piercing the shallow metal walls of the warehouse. She wasn’t sure why the Banshee was making these deep clicking noises but she didn’t want to find out. She used her strength to leap from foxhole to foxhole, draining her stamina and the legion that followed her into a dwindling puddle of echoes. There was enough that she’d gotten from being so close and all she could feel was fear. She was afraid of what might happen to Peepers with her gone.

She was also afraid of what kind of person Foreigner was suggested to be. She hated feeling this way, after all that he’d done to help her realize the pieces missing within her, but Foreigner was still such a mystery element for her. The Banshee and him had a relationship of some kind. If she was the kind of person to take hostages and ruthlessly assault the people around her, what kind of company did Foreigner used to keep? He’s okay right now but what happens when he remembers his memories?

Foxtail sprinted back to their convergence point in the Wired Oceans workshop with those kinds of questions rattling through her mind.