From the clear view on the intricately spiked roof of one of the golden tree houses across the street, it can be seen that turning in on the next street from afar is the matte black pod, which drives down the lane of houses, its engine gentle after the intense chase prior.

By trailing the pod, it’s watched that the pod slows down upon approaching the opposite tree house, and upon reaching it the pod takes a turn onto the short driveway, slowing down even more to a snail’s pace.

Ahead of the pod is what is initially the darker closed garage door, although it then dematerializes upon the pod’s nearing vicinity, providing an entry into the spacious and clean white garage inside.

The pod promptly drifts through the open doorway in deceleration, and right after its full body passes through into the garage it comes to a full halt, and the engine is put to silent sleep. The pod rests in place for a few seconds, stationary, finally being able to come to a stop after the exhilarating sprint through the city.

While only the back of the pod can be seen from the angle on the other roof, the distant vague whooshes of a door dematerialization can be picked up on, and moments later so can the quiet but familiar voices of the two men conversing back and forth, the most prominent voice being the raspy senile one who by the tone of his voice is excited, juxtaposed by his partner whom is much calmer albeit still engaged in the conversation.

None of the words can be made out however, nor can either of them be seen due to them being too far into the garage, and even the sounds of their voice become silenced from the materialization of the garage door, once again cutting off view from the home’s interior.

After a few extended moments upon watching the door close, waiting for another potential event which never comes, the perspective is shifted away from the house and towards the other side to properly disembark; the abrupt movement causes large chains to clang against each other once.

At the dining table Dana remains seated, holding her head up with teary, reflective eyes, having concluded her reveal to the one who had admired her most. Below her is the small congregation of tears forming a puddle, and neighboring it is the empty mug.

On the other side of the dining table past the tray majorly full of uneaten cupcakes–with various colors of perfectly squeezed frosting pink, green, yellow, and blue– silently sits Kokei, who’s head also hangs low with a frown, her hands by her side for she knew nothing of what to do with them after the heartbreaking revelation.

While it would’ve been liked if Kokei had the words to assure and comfort Dana, she couldn’t find any worth expressing without potentially worsening her state, for in truth such an existential wound was not one she could easily find ointments for.

So instead, the two silently sat on opposite sides of the table with their heads down, just absorbing the solemn atmosphere of what was at first meant to be a lighthearted banter after work. Not one of them says a word, for not one of them knows a word to say, leaving them in an awkward stalemate locked amongst themselves. Instead all there is in the house is pure, unobstructed silence. Absence of life. Hollow of soul.

As Dana sulks to herself, the center of the story’s floor dematerializes, creating an entryway for those below, for the soft sound of an elevator pad ascending is accompanied by a distinct raspy male voice which progressively rises the more they do.

Upon being pierced by the voice that penetrates the pensive atmosphere who alerts of the subject’s arrival, Dana instinctively raises her head with wide eyes, and frantically begins scrubbing the table with the sleeve of her blazer, wiping the tears off in a desperate attempt to cover up what could become excruciatingly embarrassing.

Behind her, the voices become clearer with enclosing proximity, Ekitai’s voice primarily so which rambles, “I’m just saying, doesn’t need to be today or tomorrow, but we need a team name eventually. I mean it’s just how these things go, we’re already becoming infamous in several Earths, we’re growing our reputation, now’s time to slap a title to it you know?”

At the moment that both of the primarily bald heads of Ekitai and Meditat, the latter opposes yet entertains, “We should not be seeking such a reputation, honestly maybe it is really for the better that I’m unrecognizable, the last thing I need is for my legacy to be tarnished into one of criminality, the shame I have for myself is worse enough….”

Once the elevator platform the two were riding up reaches the main floor, --exposing both of them fully with Ekitai in his brown overcoat and Meditat in his black leather jacket–Ekitai remarks lightly while stepping off of the platform in the direction of the living room as the pad seamlessly integrates with the rest of the floor, “Oh come on, you’re just in denial, we both know you’re not some golden boy.”

At last Dana succeeds in cleaning the table of any residue, and with one stroke of her finger over her eyes, she temporarily conceals herself of her traces and slides off of her chair.

She turns around and walks in the direction towards Meditat, who naturally approaches her in the dining room, his hands in his pocket with a perplexed expression. The two proceed towards each other with casual paces, converging towards the edge of one of the kitchen counters which borders the kitchen and dining area.

Whereas Meditat comes to a stop within getting in conversing distance from Dana upon the expectation of an interaction, his perplexion strengthens as Dana passes straight beside him concurrently with a distant flaming whoosh, continuing to walk towards the center of the floor, for it appears that she hadn’t the same intentions. Not only dumbfounded by the subversion, Meditat’s forehead scrunches with intrigue to a sense he picked up, and he glances to the side as though he noticed something in passing.

Meditat then swivels around to face Dana while she continues towards the center of the room, and he casually inquires, “Where’re you going?”

Dana then immediately freezes upon the question, standing right in the center of the room with a strange abruption similar to a guilty child failing to pass their parent’s sneaking suspicions. Similarly, she does not turn around and exchange eye contact, rather she remains standing facing the opposite direction, and softly answers: “Uhm…just needed to use the bathroom…that’s all….”

While Meditat watches Dana with a suspiciously concerned glare, behind him Kokei also stares at Dana, although with wider eyes of a more tragic expression, for while the epiphany struck her on just how little she truly knew Dana, she could at the very least understand the basic evasion being attempted.

With timing that could be no worse, she awkwardly remains seated alone at the dining table, knowing the topic couldn’t be elaborated on given the new presences, and that now they had to awkwardly shift back into normal gear. She especially had to respect and maintain Dana’s privacy, a secret untold to someone she’s clearly known for a long time, decades, putting her in an even more perilously uncomfortable position behind the perceptive man precisely between the two.

Regardless of the inability to exchange any advice to her friend in distress, Kokei takes action to do what she can, standing up from her seat and grabbing the emptied mug she had offered to Dana, and carrying it over to the kitchen while announcing with an attemptively concealed awkwardice: “There are cupcakes on the dining table if anyone wants them. But leave some for the rest, Ekitai,” to which Meditat’s concentration is obstructed and his gaze is offset to the kitchen where Kokei enters.

Naturally next Meditat’s attention swivels to his right, the living room, where Ekitai rests with his back slouched and feet resting on the coffee table tops–showing no basic manners in the household. The lazy old man glances back to the kitchen and boldly ahems, “Huuuuuhhh? You’re the food vacuum, not me, and besides you put it too far away so I’m not going to walk there.”

His attention beginning to spin freely like a carousel, flowing between Kokei, Ekitai, and Dana, Meditat’s expression becomes unreasonably intense as his eyes curl and forehead wrinkles, meditating heavily as though disturbed. He constantly glances around himself, as if seeking hidden anomalies, to which Ekitai distantly notices and remarks, “Did you lose something? It’s probably somewhere under one of the pod seats, what with all that reckless driving you were doing earlier,” although the words only vaguely echo in Meditat’s head.

Meditat then fixes his gaze ahead as Kokei retorts irritatedly, “Excuse me, what exactly were you two doing today?? Start speaking or I’m going to go over there and pinch that elvish ear of yours you walking kamikaze,” although more and more all irrelevant dialogue becomes softened, nearly muted, for Meditat instead focuses on the simple currents of the air, the footsteps on the ground, the rattling of chains below the surface.

All the sudden, Meditat’s sharp eyes expand with glint in his irises, facing straight forth at the center of the room where Dana still stands awkwardly, unsure on how to proceed after the callout, for she still faces away from him.

Altogether the sounds of the environment return, including the voice of Dana which assumes, “Well…if that’s all…I’ll be right back~,” and she takes a step forward in the same path she had declared prior.

In the center of the group in the quiet house, where in the kitchen Kokei stands behind a counter, in the living room Ekitai lays on the couch, and Dana completes her first step towards the restroom, Meditat unexpectedly holds his hand ahead, and three propulsive blue bursts project from his body, two from his shoulders and one from his palm, all of them firing out in the formation of a star and each of them perfectly striking one of the unassuming companions upon in the very next instant their bodies are propelled outward from him.

Stricken with such oppressive force without warning, Kokei’s pink eyes file in bewilderment as her hair blows back and her body begins to collapse to the ground.

Repelled by the intense power abruptly, Ekitai’s yellow eyes broaden with a dropped jaw as his body is flung off of the couch where he was resting so peacefully, a hail of spit flying out his gaping mouth.

Impelled by an invisible yet aggressive shove, Dana’s green eyes flash without thoughts of explanation, her body thrusted forward with her arms thrashing aimlessly, her mind put into a sudden inexplicable panic.

Right below where Dana’s desperately kicking feet glide past, a dark silver fist emerges straight from the crumbling floor, its fingers and palm wrapped around by chains which breathe immense deeply rich red flames that make the fist a torch of an unchained violent blaze.

The fist rises up amongst the chunks of the floor it brings with it, exposing more of the body notably the crimson scaly skin on the bottom of the forearm, where two radiating red streaks of energy course down into the fist, the streaks running under a series of larger chains wrapped around the forearm, all of them also emitting their own red flames omnidirectionally in a vortex, off of the bright hot red material with the property of a metal being heated for forging.

All simultaneously, Dana’s body flies into the office room, sliding over one of the tables and collapsing on the floor out of view behind the fully covering desks.

Kokei’s body drops to the ground behind the counter, her body vanishing from view too due to the cabinets below the counter concealing any entities on the other side.

Ekitai’s body crashes on the floor opposite from the couch he was just resting on, making his body no longer visible from the floor’s center.

Ascending from the floor in the upward shower of debris is the red devil, its arch-trimmed black cape waving from the force of its flight, it's dark silver shoulders glistening in the room’s light and its body coursing with red streaks that pour down like radiating blood. Its chains rattle in its harsh movements like a satanic bell, alerting of a hellish presence as the red blazing vortex rages from its rising fist, dancing chaotically in the center of the floor.

Across from the beast, the only one still in the dining room, Meditat glares with a fiery intensity, his azureus eyes–tinted by the crimson flames– blazing as his teeth grit in deep resentment, his white locks waving behind his head after the hefty blasts emitted.

Glaring straight at the one target who moved across nearly fifty worlds– half of the entire Superverse– just to hunt him down, Meditat remains in the dining room focused on the devil who had yet to see him, for its head was facing the other way. Facing him on ground, Meditat watches the devil’s flames spread rampant so much so that it discharges an intense wave of red energy, a wave that consumes the whole home to which all simultaneously the window screens and lights flicker destabilized while Meditat’s body too fades, the opacity of his body dropping as though he was ceasing from reality until there’s no trace of him at all.

With the landing of its feet, its jagged black soles impaling the pure white floor of the golden treehouse, the chains above rattle once more and alas settle.

For a moment the being remains still, the jagged buckles around its dark silver boots reflecting the trembling lights of the house among the crimson aura of the intruder.

Above those boots the twin streaks of red coarse on both inner thighs made of crimson scales are neighbored by the jagged black pads on the outer thigh. Further above the dark silver belt and a continuation of the crimson scales where four more streaks pour down, between black pads around the ribs, is the large red phosphorescence insignia resembling an eraser, the source of the red streaks from below as well as the ones wrapping around the torso, feeding into the arms, and rising up through the dark silver guard covering the upper arms and shoulders. Finally at the top of the figure is the black mask with flaring red lenses above a wide curved vent which resembles an unhinged smile, and protruding from the lenses are curved streaks which continue enlarged up the dark hood put over the face, representative of its rival although contorted to shape that of a goat’s horns.

After drawing its final breath, along with the rest of the house’s lighting dies the life of the window screens, and with the departure of the window to freedom outside the cage the being emits a distortedly demonic growl, like a ravenous predator seeking its live meal, its lust for life feeding its strength. Now as the prime source of light, that being crimson, it ghousily turns its head to observe the floor from the center.

Albeit the perfectly executed incursion in a house very definitely occupied after intricate watching, nowhere through the red tinted eyes of the devil is a single being in sight, for in the nexus it’s almost as though the house were indeed barren when it was very much clearly impossible for that to be the case.

Behind the kitchen counter where the empty mug sits, Kokei’s back hugs the cabinet as her legs are scrunched up, her fingers desperately grasping the floor. Her head is tilted up, her pink gaze veering to the far edge of the cabinet, although all she can see is the vague crimson haze coming from behind her. Her body quivers as she holds herself silent as can be, and while it’s unheard from anyone else her heartbeat drums like a carpet bombing.

Behind the far end of the couch, Ekitai lays down with his body parallel to the couch’s length, utilizing the construct as best as he can to stay hidden, which is helped by his slender body. His legs remain shut together, and his bald head rubs against the couch’s cushioned face, providing him the best angling he can to provide his yellow eyes a glimpse of the intruder, but to no avail for he too can only grasp the red mist. One hand is already slipped through his overcoat by his inner holster, already primed for a counterattack, although even he understood not to act hastily.

Behind the office desks which stretch across the room, Dana kneels cautiously with one hand on the ground and another by her side, the second hand golden as are her legs, also prepared to strike back but samely hesitant. She remains by the edge of the desk however, trying her best to get a glance with green eyes, obstructed by her own cover and also relegating her reconnaissance to only returning the crimson hue that swarms the house. While she is, especially comparatively to the other two, more prepared for combat, her expression tells of uncertainty and anxiety, for the forcefully shifted aura of the home had left her struggling to grasp the situation. Silently she breathes rapidly, her hanging hand clenched in a fist, seeking for an opening while also seemingly too distraught to focus.

While Dana silently stalks by the edge of her cover, another figure manifests right beside her, to which she instinctively swivels and aims her free hand as it transforms into a cannon straight at the approacher, only for her to find that right in front of her barrel is her companion in the leather jacket, staring straight at her through stern azureus eyes after having emerged from the unseen by restoring the opacity of his body in a similarly smooth transition to his vanishing. Dana nearly leaps backwards upon the worsening state she’s in, for she had just drawn her weapon against him of all people, to which she covers her mouth with the same hand restored, her eyes shooting wide open with guilt.

Despite Dana’s visible angst, Meditat keeps his concentrated stare on her for an extra second, and then he diverts it opposite from the apparent subject of interest.

Following Meditat’s shift in focus, Dana watches her friend stare directly at the far wall, the corner of the floor, the very border of the treehouse which is accompanied by tabletops along the walls, albeit without solid foundations but rather hovering freely.

In perfect silence Meditat crawls towards the wall, remaining low to the ground out of sight, although understandably the further he moves from cover the more likely he can be spotted once again. Still even perfectly comprehending such logic, he still continues anyways to the other side of the office opposite from Dana, crawling below the table and reaching the white wall. Suddenly the sound of chains clanging causes Dana’s body to jolt, and she immediately glances back towards the center of the floor where it originated from.

Still present, the devil begins to take slow steps towards the dining room, the chains around its neck bouncing and colliding as its body constantly outputs the red haze, the only source of light in the unfriendly home.

Through radiating lenses the devil stalks the seemingly vacant residency, not yet having spoken a word, only quietly growling as it creepily patrols the area.

Back at the office, Meditat kneels right by the wall, his left side facing it and his right facing the center of the room to maintain safety from assault. He glances once towards the middle of the room where the heavy footsteps emanate from, but then returns his gaze to the wall, trying to face forwards while being hunted within the same building.

He slowly turns his body more towards the wall, putting his back to the center despite the dangers of doing so, for he knows he’s covered regardless.

As Dana remains right behind him, able to provide cover from the back with her arm once again morphed into a cannon, Meditat raises his right hand as it begins to illuminate blue, drawing in his suit’s power and trying to use his body to best cover its shine due to the horribly dangerous stunt, for it was the equivalent to lighting a flare at night for besides the crimson glow it was the only other light source.

Still, Meditat moves the hand towards the wall cautiously, making every move meticulous and calculated.

As the blue hand grows closer to the wall, it silently projects a blue circular hologram onto the wall, not even a foot in radius, right in front of Meditat.

While at first it appears harmless, the hologram then flashes brighter, and suddenly atomizes all behind it silently, burning a wide hole straight into the hole instantaneously before then vanishing to supposedly invite a route of escape, one that theoretically should breathe natural light back into the room, and as expected there was a gleam.

Kneeling right in front of the wall, Meditat’s eyes light up with a distraught face, and behind him Dana takes notice of his discontent and peers over his shoulder to which her eyes also expand.

In front of Meditat, through the gaping hole burnt through by his suit, the hole that should’ve led to an opening to escape the building which should invite cyan light, instead what is seen is a red flare emitting from a dark crimson obsidian-esc material, another layer of the wall fully covering their way out, which flares from the input of energy but then gradually darkens as it fades, but as it does it makes a distinctive hissing sound.

That very hissing sound is picked up on by the devil, who was formerly staring down at the tray of cupcakes on the dining table, but immediately raises its head and glances in the direction of the hiss. Its growling gets louder as it then takes off, making its way out of the dining room.

As it leaves, Kokei watches from the kitchen right next to it, having been right beside the devil for an extended period, putting her in terror as she was nearly caught. She begins to scramble back, still locked in the room but seeking any way to do better at concealment.

Those very distinctive chain clashes catch Meditat’s attention instantly, causing him to glance back to the center of the room, and dash to Dana’s side hastily.

As the footsteps grow louder and the once dim red light intensifies, Meditat taps Dana on the shoulder, and upon her noticing after being hyper focused by the steps she watches Meditat crawl towards the other side of the table where the corner is, and then follows close behind also in the most silent she can be.

Hiding behind the couch, Ekitai glances to the side and notices the brightening red hue, to which he begins desperately scramming by rolling over and crawling to the front of the couch’s long side, relinquishing his hold on his weapon.

He perfectly crawls out of view right as the red beast walks past, nearly having caught him if it weren’t for the quick movement.

With heavy clangs like the bells of a church the devil makes its way to the office room, its own energy reflecting off its silver shoulder, and upon reaching the office it immediately notices the wide circular hole burnt into the wall, exposing the mineral casing which fully relinquishes its energy, returning to full darkness.

The devil strolls around the desk bordering the room, right around to where the two just were.

Glaring with bright crimson eyes, the devil enters the office room, and glances around behind the bordering desk as well as below the table to find that in neither spot were the two present, for all that remains is the hole.

While the devil glances back and forth, and then focuses on the wall, on the other edge of the desk kneel both Meditat and Dana in silence, Dana right by the corner only just barely out of view from the monster, and Meditat glancing aimlessly off to the center of the room.

Finally after all this time, upon receiving a genuine reaction, the devil speaks in the taunt: “You thought I would make it that easy for you, huh. This entire building is encased in my mineral, it’s an impenetrable cell, something you could’ve realized if you weren’t so aimlessly conversing with each other. You made me fly all the way to the middle of the Superverse, just to act sloppily. You have the audacity to live, and as an insult.”

Meditat however keeps his focus on the middle of the floor, peering more intently and leaning forwards.

At the center of the house remains the gaping hole left by the dramatic arrival of the beast, surrounded by the rubble of the floor.

Through a lightly blue tint, an applied filter allows for visibility through the floor, leaving it only semi transparent. This allows for the observation of the garage below the hole, to which it’s revealed that despite the completely crushed garage door and some debris left on the ground, the actual matte black pod is fully intact, something the observer had figured due to a lack of sound or even alerts of his vehicle’s destruction.

Although, just as the devil had said, past the destroyed garage door is a thick wall made of the dark crimson mineral, nearly indestructible. The vehicle was right there, but it too was trapped, along with the group.

However, only after a few seconds of thought, an idea had already come to mind.

After completing the reconnaissance, Meditat’s eyes stop illuminating, and he glances back at Dana, patting her on the shoulder to grab her attention away from the pursuer. She faces him with an intrigued expression, and watches Meditat tilt his head towards the hole, sending a signal to her.

With all the years of bonding and interaction together, it took not a full second for Dana to fully comprehend Meditat’s message, although she found herself stuck at following said message, for her eyebrows slant with a peculiar expression, and then she nods her head towards the beast in the same room as them.

Understanding the response, Meditat raises his head back up towards the direction of the stalker, and he then returns his gaze back to Dana and nods his head. His body then suddenly vanishes just as before, into complete darkness.

After losing interest in the hole, the devil moves its gaze towards the other edge of the office desk, and tilts its head in interest, as if a thought had just clicked into place.

Terrifyingly, the devil straightens its neck and begins marching towards the other edge of the desk in continuation of its search.

Approaching the other edge where Dana hides behind, alone, the devil extends its arm outwards, and red flames crawl off of its hand in a fiery growl, being sculpted into the shape of the viking axe, and once it does the flames are shaven off to reveal the weapon made, the edge of its blade sliding against the floor, causing a nagging screeching sound which triggers Dana’s body to shiver, her arm cannon remaining close to her body as she prepares to fight back.

A faint golden light exudes from the barrel of Dana’s cannon, priming for a shot, right for the devil who ambles ever closer to her.

Just as the devil reaches the corner, a nearby pair of running footsteps is heard behind it, causing it to glance back at the direction, that being the other corner of the desk towards the living room.

After a few seconds upon receiving the footsteps, the devil turns its body around towards the living room, and it changes directions towards it, losing interest in its former target while still carrying its screeching axe, to which Dana releases a silent sigh of immense relief with closed eyes.

She then opens her eyes and glances to the other side, the light in her barrel fading as her own target is shifted too.

Just as prompted to before, Dana focuses on the hole in the center of the floor, wide open and more than adequate to jump through.

Staring through with bright green eyes, Dana contemplates the fact that by stepping through the hole, she’d be relinquishing the group of any aid she could quickly offer, being the first to escape regardless of the fact that if anything she was one of the few battle-trained members, someone who theoretically should be staying back to help the rest.

However, after glancing to the side to peer at the devil who marches towards the living room, she also comes to the understanding that so many of these openings would not be easy to provide, and that she was given an opportunity to move, and in failing to take it she’d only further prevent a full evacuation which her friend was clearly aiming for. While she would prefer to stay and help him, she knew that the less people on the floor, the better, and in the end staying back would only further prove a detriment to the group.

Even if it was a retreat, it was the right way to help.

With the decision finalized, Dana begins to start silently crawling towards the dead center of the floor, using her cybernetic legs to make greater strides while still low, keeping as quiet as she can be as she makes her dash across the house right in plain sight.

She glances to the side to watch the devil step inside the living room behind one of the couches–the chains of its movement serving as the ticks of a clock–, knowing it was standing right where it heard the sound, although little did it know Ekitai and Meditat were both right on the other side of the exact same couch. For a moment there was a perfect line of sight from it to her, a deadly window, one that some may not trust to take out of the fear that they’d be compromised.

But she doesn’t have that fear, for instead she returns her gaze to the hole in the center of the room, and continues her speedy crawl to the opening for escape.

She reaches the center of the room and silently dives into the hole, straight into the garage where the disabled electronics had rendered the elevator pads unusable, although in this instance that was likely for the better. She gracefully plummets straight into the garage, landing down on the ground silently.

Now fully in the clear, she glances at the matte pod hovering stationary in the garage, only to notice that coincidentally all four doors had been opened, further proving that there was a strong plan even if it was constructed on the fly, for the faith she had put into the plan was rewarded. Beyond the pod is the crumbled garage door, and past that is the wide dark crimson wall, nearly black especially at such low light. It’s clear she wasn’t exactly fully safe just yet, but she had proceeded to the next phase of the escape, and that progress was meaningful.

Although she was relieved that her evacuation was perfect, an apprehensive face told that she wasn’t as confident in the rest. But all she could do is wait and hope for the best, placing her confidence in her group that they could weave out of this lethal situation.

Through the hole and amber bangs Dana watches the ceiling in anticipation, waiting for the other three to come down safely, ready to catch them.

Upstairs however the situation was not so calm, for both Meditat and Ekitai remain scrunched up behind the same couch the devil stands on the other side of, who glances around curiously, only needing to either walk around or peer over to find half of the set.

Desperate to find an escape from being only a few feet from the monster, Meditat glances at the other couch diagonal to them, where Ekitai was previously resting at.

Right behind the devil’s back, Meditat cautiously raises his hand up towards the couch in the gesture of the gun, keeping his body completely steady and composed, sharpening his glare to aim perfectly as beside him Ekitai keeps his hand in his overcoat, prepared for the worst.

However, Meditat has a different plan, for he aims his fingers tight at the far edge of the couch, with just barely enough of an angle to make the shot.

Completely boldly, Meditat flicks his wrist, firing a silent single bright blue bolt straight forwards in the dark room.

That one bolt perfectly strikes the edge of the couch, causing it to then be slightly knocked to the side as though being rubbed up against.

Immediately the devil takes notice of the slight nudge, and it growls responsively, for the push gives the impression of an accidental push by a terrified victim failing to stay concealed.

From lurking to acting, the stalker follows the new target, walking away from the couch the two are in front of as its chains rattle, and instead traversing around the living room to approach the back of the couch, the face directed at the center of the room, although in doing so it moves the stalker closer to the hole, the destination, temporarily creating a new problem.

Still, the stalker’s axe is no longer targeting close to the two, and in the brief moment where the stalker’s focus is not on the wallside of the room, Meditat begins rapidly crawling towards the wall bordering between the living room and dining room, where the bathroom is located.

Taking the signal on the jump, Ekitai follows Meditat close behind too, once again losing his hold of his weapon to instead chase after his ally to the border, keeping his wheezing silent by holding his hand over his mouth as a form of suppression.

While the stalker reaches the corner of the couch, about to pivot, Meditat aims his hand towards the border wall, and projects another blue circle onto the wall, where it then atomizes a hole straight through and into the small dark bathroom where Meditat slides in, followed close behind by Ekitai too.

Right after the two get inside, Meditat aims his hand at the hole, and he projects a perfectly realistic hologram of the wall’s material over the aperture, creating a false enclosure that coupled with the perfectly formed hole ends up providing for a seamless disguise.

After rounding the corner, the devil comes to the realization that there is nobody behind the couch he had just made his way to, for even still there is nobody in sight.

Growling in discontent, the beast in its demonic voice curses: “You’re weak, Meditat. I honestly should’ve just ended you right then and there at your house, but I just could not comprehend the sheer patheticness of what you’ve become. I can’t tell if your decrepit body is nothing more than an illusion, but what I can tell is that you are not the man I once knew. Just knowing you’re still alive is enough, but knowing just how much you’ve fallen only makes me hate you so much more, I don’t even know how to explain it, it’s like some sort of sick joke just how after all these years of what I thought was peace you just had to return, I thought I could finally move on from the torture of sharing a reality with you but you had to exist again. But I promise you, Meditat, I will kill you. And until then, I will slaughter anyone and everyone I have to in order to do that. And every death will be on your hands, including your failure of friends.”

Inside the narrow bathroom, with only a hovering toilet bowl along the white walls across from the one sink panel, both Meditat and Ekitai remain still, with Meditat in front of the closed door and Ekitai waiting patiently with his hand nearing his overcoat again.

Meditat keeps his eyes on the door while listening in on the devil’s dialogue, obviously not responding but still reacting from the growing glare on his face.

However, that is until the unexpected sound of a hard clang, although not exactly that of chains, but rather that of a large solid object colliding with a wide surface, like an object falling onto a surface. With that, Meditat’s eyes expand, for a foreboding sense intrudes in his mind.

On the other side of the house, Kokei’s watery eyes stare helplessly at the mug beside her, which previously was on the countertop, but had fallen and thus triggered a ring that more than gave her location away.

Unable to even move, Kokei just silently stares straight at the empty mug only a few feet from her scrunched up body, not one thought on how to act coming to mind, for all she could do in that moment was drown in pain.

Then it happened: another clang to follow, the clang of chains, to which Kokei’s whole body quivers, nearly jumping in fright. Then another clang. Then another. At the tempo of stalking footsteps. At the tempo of the approaching predator. At the tempo of her impending demise. Getting louder. And louder.

Instantly comprehending the sitch, Meditat hears the sound of the rattling chains pass him, indicating that the being had already reached the dining room, the one neighboring the kitchen where the drop came from.

He then glances back at Ekitai desperately, for he was still in the middle of escorting another, but now had been placed in a truly complicated situation.

Across the bathroom, Ekitai stares back with expanded, petrified yellow irises, for the horror of knowing who was in danger struck him to the core.

The anxiety.

The desperation.

Those very same feelings were the same as the first day they had all met, the same ones he shared after the battle in the house, the conversation over her unconscious body when discussing how to deal with the collateral of the war.

Staring back with distressed blue eyes, Meditat knew full well how much she matters to Ekitai, how far he was willing to ashame himself just to try keeping her safe, to try protecting her from the cruel world where at any moment she could be targeted.

And just again, she was being targeted by a threat that was initially only hunting him, and once again, she was caught in the same house as him when the intruder showed up, thus becoming a target herself regardless of her true innocence.

But on that day, he had made a choice. As Meditat returns his gaze to the door, he recalls the oath he made, the responsibility he took on. A responsibility he promised to uphold, no matter how dangerous the mission becomes.

In the moment that the devil turns to face the kitchen, its chain necklace sliding around its neck, a wide circular hole is burnt straight through the bathroom door, and a blue thread projects out to the other side of the house where it then reels a black blur, one that moves in complete silence out of the devil’s knowing.

Without stopping, the devil heads straight into the kitchen, passing out of the dining room away from the tray of majorly uneaten cupcakes, and right into where his victim is as it holds its viking axe, the blade gradually becoming to redden from energy.

Inside the kitchen quadrant of the room, on the white floor is the fallen mug, but strangely enough that is all that’s in the room, not a single person. Still, the devil continues deeper into the kitchen, glancing at all of the corners of the floor, any of the countertops, seeking for anywhere that the victims may have hidden.

However, standing in the center of the kitchen with its axe still in hand, growling irritatedly, the stalker could find no one, checking every corner, every crevice of the kitchen, and yet nowhere around it was there anyone to be found despite being sure of hearing a sound.

Above the devil on the ceiling hangs Kokei’s body, her body and mouth held by Meditat, who is held up to the ceiling by a spider web of lightless blue cables, keeping both of them out of sight although still in the same room.

From the ceiling, Meditat gazes over at the bathroom with the cut door, and through the perforation he made sneaks out Ekitai, who glances up at him from the ceiling with a nervous expression, both for the two who were right above the stalker but also for himself, uncertain about how to act in such a predicament.

However, Ekitai watches Meditat tilt his head towards the hole, just as he did prior, nudging him to escape in such a way that also promised the safety of the last.

Watching back on the ceiling, Meditat observes Ekitai take a silent deep breath and nod back in respect. Ekitai then faces the center of the house, and he vigilantly sneaks his way across the floor, from the bathroom to the nexus where the hole is.

Perfectly the devil’s occupied in the kitchen and searching for the one now hovering in the air, thus leaving an opening for Ekitai as he reaches the middle of the room, and looks over the edge of the hole.

Peering through the hole knowing every moment standing out in the open was another chance of him being found, Ekitai discovers that in the garage below stands Dana, who gazes up at him with a soft, relieved smile, and she holds her hands out as golden tentacles protrude from her body to form a moving net right below the hole.

Ekitai hastily glances over to the kitchen, where he watches the devil growl and begin to turn around to his direction, to which Ekitai reactively throws himself into the hole without grace.

Luckily Ekitai’s fall is suspended by the net of tentacles extending off of Dana, which wrap around Ekitai’s body, rotating him upright and slowly lowering his body to the surface where his feet contact the floor.

Upon contact, the tentacles then slither away from Ekitai’s body and back into Dana, vanishing into retraction, and the two nod to each other before Ekitai glances over at the thick wall caging them in the house. He sighs silently, and then returns his gaze to Dana, where they both face the hole above them again, now left to await the last two.

Finally choosing to continue the patrol and give up the room, the stalker marches out of the kitchen, back through the dining room and towards center again, led in all directions yet not having found any of those trapped, only clearly irritating it more.

After the stalker leaves the room to resume its patrol, Meditat is gently lowered as the cables stretch as if suddenly losing the ability to carry his weight, although in reality they’re just making his drop softer. He’s brought down to the ground whilst holding Kokei, and upon landing all of the cables attached to his back vanish, to which he then lets go of her.

Kokei immediately crouches and crawls to the cabinet where she hid earlier, and Meditat on the other hand silently trails the direction of the stalker, tracking him to seek for another opening to give the last member of the group.

While aimlessly strolling over the breach in the floor, unknowing of the other two’s escape as they hide away from the hole, the devil growls with greater resentment before reflecting, “I know I’ve told you countless times, but ever since the night of my awakening, I’ve hated you. I’ve never been able to hate anything like I do with you. Just knowing we lived on the same Earth made me want to completely destroy it if that meant getting rid of you.”

While grazing around the house, the devil’s chains rattle as it continues, “But strangely enough, even with all that hatred, I never really wanted to kill you. No, that was never my intention, if I wanted to kill you I’m sure I had countless chances, but back then I always thought that simply wouldn’t be enough. No, if you were dead, I’d still hate you, and I’d have nothing to do with that hatred. No, you had to stay alive, and I had to make sure your life was the most painful, most tortuous, most agonizing life anyone could have. I had to make sure you had nothing. I had to make sure you had no one. I had to make sure you knew that no matter where you ran, no matter how you tried to lie to yourself, that you would always be alone, and that deep down you would know that. And so I did my best to make that happen, everyone you loved I would get rid of, no matter who it was. I wanted to break your stupid fantasy, the thought that you are somehow some sort of hero for having these powers, the thought that you’re righteous, that you’re good, that you deserve anything.”

The stalker then stops and pivots around approaching the office and resuming, “And you know what, maybe I’m wrong but I think I succeeded. I did break you, ten years ago when I ripped a hole in every member of your stupid ‘superhero team.’ But I didn’t realize what exactly what would mean, of all the countless years of schemes, after dedicating my life to one goal, I didn’t realize what you would be like when broken. But I knew almost immediately, I knew when the very core of your being, the very essence of your persona broke, when you finally admitted you are no hero, when you finally admitted you are the same depraved as me. Because you finally gave up that stupid oath to not take a life, even when there were millions of people whom you could have broken that oath for, and probably saved countless more in doing so. You finally stopped acting righteous, stopped acting pure of heart, and you did that all so you could then set to murder one man, and of all hundred Earths, of all hundreds of billions of lives, you chose me. And at that moment you flipped the switch, you told me that I really, really don't need you alive anymore. You told me that whatever I was wasting my whole life doing, whatever stupid game we were playing, it wasn’t worth it, it wasn’t worth the work, you weren’t worth the work. Because I knew you weren’t who you told yourself you were, and I thought you deserved to suffer, but I really did not know just the extent of how horrible you could be. Because, tell me Meditat: what kind of man attempts to take the life of his own twin brother?”

At that moment, Kokei’s pink eyes expand wide open, a glint in her iris, as she stares directly up at Meditat with a cold, speechless expression, the revelation stopping her heartbeat, for in that moment the entire context of the events following their lives for the past several weeks had been entirely rewritten.

In front of her, Meditat keeps his gaze ahead at the center of the floor, where the hole is, still concentrated on the mission, still trying not to be too swept into the devil’s speech despite the truth that had been exposed, putting all eyes on him.

Under the floor, Ekitai also silently stares up with expanded yellow irises, having been able to hear the voices above clear enough to discern what was said. He just gazes at the open hole, as Dana glances at him from the side with a peculiar expression.

Observing the stalker, Meditat takes note of the stalker’s entrance into the office, its back turned on the two, creating another opening that should last just long enough for what’s needed.

Locking down the final escape, Meditat nods his head and faces Kokei, making contact with her barren, cold eyes.

Looking down on Kokei, Meditat tilts his head towards the hole, and he then gestures to her to follow him to their freedom, yet she doesn’t react to either of the gestures, rather she just blankly stares at him.

Glancing back over towards the devil with the desperation of losing the window, Meditat hastily bends down and grabs Kokei by the arm, hoisting her up and keeping hold as he begins to sneak around the kitchen, to which she silently follows.

Around the counter, both Meditat and Kokei exit both the kitchen, walking in an arc around the dining table.

Left on the table is the full tray of cupcakes with the various colors of frosting: green, yellow, pink, and blue, all huddled together, part of the same batch, the batch being abandoned at that very moment in the darkness as beside it Meditat and Kokei sneak towards the middle of the floor, the last to depart.

Leading the pair, Meditat keeps a keen eye ahead, prepared for any unexpected glances by the stalker, standing right in front of Kokei as to obstruct any sight of her.

From behind, Kokei silently obliges with the escort, but with cold, desolate eyes, staring not at the threat across the house but rather at the one right in front of her. She just silently glares with dead eyes, being dragged to the breach as Meditat keeps a focused tight glare forth.

Up ahead in the office, while the devil studies the hole made in the wall, it revolves under the understanding that regardless of where Meditat was hiding, he was within hearing distance, “In spite of it all, you still somehow survived, even though I saw you burn alive, even though I saw your body vaporize. But I guess that’s how people like you are, huh, you never go away no matter what, you always pop back up again, always a constant in our lives, and no matter how hard we try to fix that nothing changes. But I guess since you’re here anyways, and you can act like you’ve moved on but I can tell by just how pathetic this group of yours is that you clearly haven’t, I do realize you never really understood how I put down your team. I mean, maybe you have, and I guess most of them are relatively self explanatory: The leader was really the most basic one because all I needed was to simply kill him like any other man –even though he did put surprisingly the best fight– but that was to be expected; the telekineticist took quite a lot of training, all that energy I had to learn to conjure and in such a controlled state, honestly you’re lucky I don’t really care about destruction or else I could’ve incinerated entire planets with those nuclear railguns but all I did was put down a singular person. The speedster was more of a puzzle, finding how to fight a man who I couldn’t even perceive, someone I had to be able to trap even though any physical trap he could just phase through, but you actually gave me the inspiration with that power generator, a device that could siphon his energy, so all I needed to do was make a device that could keep up with him by using him, and it worked surprisingly well. However, the first one was really the most difficult, the girl, an Exhuman with the power of intangibility, I mean that power alone can make her simply unkillable. There was no power threshold I could overpower her with, years of research yielded no results for a device that could counteract her power, honestly that one person actually had me worried for a second.”

Finally reaching the center of the floor without being detected, Meditat steps to the side to provide Kokei an entry down, the two standing dead set in the middle of the open floor, with any glance back giving away their presences and precise positions.

Kokei however does not jump down the hole, instead she just silently keeps staring at Meditat from across it, still unable to take her alien eyes off of him, even though now was the time to jump and protect her life.

Under the hole, Dana peers out upon noticing the presence of the two, and she tilts her head with befuddlement to Kokei’s hesitation.

Thinking hastily, Dana reaches her hand out for Kokei and projects several golden tentacles up the hole, knowing it could potentially compromise her position too, but not wanting to give the chance for the two to be found.

All of the golden tentacles slither around Kokei, holding her like a harness before then pulling her straight into the hole, down into the garage with the other three while her gaze doesn’t move away from the one man.

Back down in the garage, the golden tentacles carry Kokei’s body down to the floor, gently placing her feet on the ground before then retracting away from her body and back into Dana’s.

Dana instinctively steps towards Kokei and puts her hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort her after interpreting that the terror of the intruder had frozen her up.

Kokei’s eyes however remain in a hollow state, her soul departed from her body, leaving just a standing husk that could speak no words.

With growing concern Dana expresses it on her face, but the perpetuation of the devil’s monologue pulls her attention: “But then, I had an ingenious idea, one that I didn’t think of for anyone else. Before I figured this out, I had planned to fight you all simultaneously, which in hindsight likely been far more difficult especially if I still struggled with just those worthless ones. But then I realized something, nobody else in the group had air control, nobody else besides you could put up a fight against me in the air. The leader’s weapons and even the speedster’s energy blasts would all be slow enough for me to dodge, and restraining my position means nothing when I don’t need to move a muscle for manifestation. The girl could hover theoretically if she wasn’t fully tangible, which meant in a fight it meant nothing, and her strikes also were dodgeable, so as long as I was up in the air, weaving around their strikes, they were effectively useless against me, because they’d need you, but they weren’t you. No, none of them were you in that they mastered aerial combat, BUT what I came to realize with all my observation was that some of them were starting to rub off on your…naive heroism. Some of them somehow took inspiration from your suicidal selflessness, from your willingness to throw yourself into anything if it meant doing good, no matter how comically idiotic such an ideal is.”

Above the hole where Meditat kneels over, prepared to drop in through with the rest of the group, rather than following with the rest he instead remains on the floor with his attention on the office where the speaker is, oddly entranced by its words, enough so that despite its cautious efforts to evacuate the group he simply sat by the exit and didn’t move.

Instead, Meditat continues to listen, “And one of them specifically had a unique…affinity for you, an affinity that could drive them to attempt to step in for you, to try to do what you do with the blind expectation of being able to be like you whyever anyone would want that. And all I’d need to do to drive her to do that is by simply forcing her to stand in for you by making sure you couldn’t be there. And with that, everything started to fall into place, everything just fit.”

Perplexed by Meditat’s daze, Dana peers tightly as the voice follows, “The ‘grand revenge of the robots,’ a story everyone would eat up because it follows real history so I didn’t even need to be that convincing. And you know I was never the programmer, but I remembered your stupid talks about how back in the day they’d use servers to easily control huge bodies of computers, and I realized that even if it was suspending disbelief by just a bit, I could make the entire army rely on one base of servers, a base I knew you’d instantly seek for, and with that there’s the separation. The robots didn’t have to be very special, I’m at least fluent with the basics, it just had to be enough to keep everyone busy for just long enough. And then all I had to do was walk up and poke them, and hover in the air and evade.”

While inspecting the final member of the group, Dana’s eyes suddenly widen in a horrible revelation upon carefully reading expressions.

Above the hole, Meditat faces forward with a blazing, terrifying glare, entirely disregarding of the rest of the group below, and completely enthralled with intensity as the devil reveals, “And just like that, just how the script was written, she saw that, had an idea to help the team in a way she knew you would, and did the most idiotic act imaginable, all from the complete ignorance of the infatuation she had for you. She didn’t have the range you do, the speed, the mastery, but she had the naivety, and that's enough. So what I’m trying to get at here is, the woman you loved died because of the influence you had on her. So while it disgusts me to even conjure up these words, I need to thank you for making my life just a little bit easier, even if in the end you immediately transformed to become just as worthless as them.”

From below, Dana watches helplessly as she can see the cogs moving, the gears turning, the neurons firing up.

Dana reaches her hand up towards him, her fingertips extending as golden tentacles to grab him the way she grabbed the others, knowing what would happen next.

Just as the tentacles nearly reach the rift, Meditat grabs the back of the black hoodie of his leather jacket, and rises as he pulls it over his head.

In that moment, the fleeting hope of escape drifts from Dana’s green eyes, as in the final moment of the evacuation it all tumbled down by a single tick, reflecting off her irises as the man stands up straight, tightly gripping the front of the hood as it’s over his head, and carbon fibers begin to emerge from the back of his head, covering his face in what felt like an eternity to her, an eternity she wished she could prevent.

But it was too late, for above the fissure, Meditat stands tall with intense tenacity on his hood as black carbon fibers crawl all over his face, from the ends of the face to between the eyes, layering over one another like cartonnage, concealing his pale face in complete darkness until not one spec of skin can be seen.

And then just like that, in the black void that has consumed his face, his soul, the two parallelogram lenses flare an azureus flame. From the inner edges of the lenses rise blue streaks which reach past below the hood, and concurrently another pair from the outer edges descend down to the bottom edge of the mask like tears.

Suddenly all five of the golden tentacles surface from the hole, all dancing in front of him, desperately trying to seek to return him back underground, but he was no longer there.

“Hey, brother…,” speaks the different voice from the different man, a deep distorted voice, one of an obscured humanity beyond recognition, extraterrestrial in concept yet even more so, a voice of what is beyond a living being, beyond a thing at all, beyond. A voice with many tones, of sorrow, of isolation, of disorientation, but also of resentment, of vengeance, of rage boiling up for ten whole years, carbonated and rising to the surface as the cap has been ripped off.

Strafing around the hole with fluidly unnatural movements like a specter, a ghost, thus dodging the tentacles that hoped to save him, the man glares straight ahead at the office, where the devil turns around upon hearing the voice, at last coming face to face with his target.

Glaring straight back through the black mask and crimson eyes the devil stalks, his prey finally in sight, his target, his undead enemy.

Glaring back through the samely black mask although with azure eyes the phantom hunts, his opponent finally in sight, his rival, his reemerging enemy.

While still holding the tip of his hood, the Tempest begins to glide towards the devil with swaying, heavy steps, for every movement he puts his blood into, for every step he puts his soul into.

In the alien voice, he declares, “...I should thank you too…,” then takes his hand off the hood as it blazes in a bright blue fist, “...because after all these years…,” to which he stomps hard with his left foot, planting it on the ground and priming his body like a spring as he primes his flaring fist back, “I can finally put them to rest.”

Then, he kicks off with his feet.

Hurtling through the air like a fireball with a blue trail of energy propelling him at the speed of a bullet, the Tempest lets out a roar with all the intensity stirred within him, and throws his fist forward.

All that power flows straight into one punch with speeds to excel, which collides straight with Exitium’s arm, the flaming red chains around the forearm combating the great energy of the strike, although even then he manages to ward off the strike with a single raised arm, culminating in a fiery collision of blue and red bursting energy which together creates a purple epicenter where the two clash, swirling up like a tornado around the eye.

Pushing back with the arm used to strike, the Tempest leaps back in the air, and from his right hand which he extends to the side a barrage of blue cables project out, although all at slightly differing angles.

All of those cables attach to the leather sofas in the living room, each of them grabbing a different part, and as a collective they anchor onto every couch. In only a second all of the couches are linked securely, ready to be used.

Despite the couches being property of the one who truly owns the house, the Tempest howls as he throws his arm forward, which throws all of the couches straight forward at immense speeds.

All of the couches soar straight past the Tempest, who continues to glide backwards, glaring through the mask as all of the blue cables curve and coil in front of him from the sudden tugs and throws.

Standing straight in the path of all the couches, Exitium bends his knees as translucent red chains project off of his hips, straight to the incoming sofas. With his free hand he summons another viking axe in a red fiery burst, and once he does his body is then propelled forward towards the projectiles head strong.

In front of the Tempest who continues to glide back, the couches collide into their target. Where the target was struck however appears a bright hot red cross cut straight through the projectiles, causing the couches to split into quadrants, and through the origin soars Exitium with both of his axes swung forward.

With a clear shot, Exitium aims both of his axes by priming his arms back, ready to throw both of them into his still target as the axes enflame.

However, that still target doesn’t follow its natural trajectory for long, as two more cables fire from its hips at a sharp angle towards the ground, which aided by a blue propulsive thrust pulls him narrowly away from impact as the two axes strike the ceiling above as misses, sizzling before then being erased in a fire.

Two more cables fire from the Tempest’s hips, although at outer angles such that Exitium was in the center, whom the Tempest propels himself straight as two long holographic blue blades projects from his hands, only for his strike be blocked by a pair of red plasmic blades generated by swiftly manifested hilts before the target drags himself away with his own red chain cables, causing them to fly in opposite directions, the Tempest flung towards the ceiling and Exitium towards the floor.

However, the two then spin in air with rotational bursts and fire another pair of cables towards the other to which they fling themselves at their enemies, clashing their energy blades right against each other, using all their strength to try overpowering the other, as the blue and red collide casting sparks between the two before they each glide across from one another, the Tempest to the floor and Exitium to the ceiling. Just like previously however they both swerve right before impacting the environment, spinning with rotational bursts that cause their bodies to flash red and blue, and they then cast another set of cables towards the other’s direction which then yanks them into each other to which they clash again with similarly stalemate results.

While at first their movements are fairly trackable, the longer the jousting continues the faster and less perceivable they both become, moving so fast that they’re mere blurs and their cables are mere flashes of streaks as they clash from all angles over the center of the floor, right above the hole.

Below the hole, Kokei silently watches the fireworks while Dana frantically runs back and forth, murmuring to herself and Ekitai meanwhile fires a multitudinous of varyingly colored bolts from his handgun which he had finally pulled out, trying to use it on the wall blocking their escape, although despite the diversity of unique reactions all of the bolts normally would have, not one of them made an effect on the wall.

After running through an entire round all on the wall just to no avail, Ekitai pauses firing and opens up the revolver-styled chamber of his weapon where all the empty flasks are. He grabs them and tosses them thoughtlessly at the ground, no longer having use for them, and then begins pulling flasks from inside his overcoat which he places inside the chamber, which lock into place intuitively. While doing so, he inquires over the blaring battle above, “Is this thing even destructible??”

After hearing the question, Dana focuses on Ekitai and begins approaching him, her movements clearly anxious as she explains to the best of her ability, “It’s a completely original synthetic material, meaning it can be as strong and durable as wanted, and from what I know there’s no simple agent that can affect it. The only way I’ve ever seen it break was by Meditat’s own crystals…but he’s up there…we need him helping us to get out of here, he knows full well he’s not going to be able to beat him anyways ....”

Within the wired globes of red and blue streaks from the constant dashing, Exitium flies towards the ceiling as he rotates his body before thrusting himself around aided by a burst by his suit, rerouting his sights back on the battlefield.

He then, wielding both plasmic blades in his hands, projects a chain cable from each of his fists, to which he thrusts both arms forward to pull himself before immediately thrusting his arms again, timed perfectly in a clash against the Tempest’s blue blades, although this time with greater force used he manages to overwhelm his opponent, dispelling the Tempest’s momentum and instead driving him back into the ground where his back collides with the floor right by the hole, causing him to groan in pain as both of his blades vanish.

Unable to stand up as his body is pressed down by Exitium’s feet as the devil looms over with both blades, the Tempest’s eyes flare even brighter with determination to fight, for even though he’s down he’s still ready to push back for another round.

Beside the Tempest’s head is the wide hole, where below the hole stands Kokei, Ekitai, and Dana, all stuck in the garage by the pod without the driver.

Then, in an arguably suicidal move out of pure desperation in the crumbling situation, a move made in the hopes of reaching through to him despite the horrific consequences drawing such attention may bring so much so that it could render the entire evacuation compromised, Dana takes in a deep breath, faces the hole, and exclaims at the top of her lungs: “MEDIT, WE NEED TO LEAVE! WE’RE STILL WAITING HERE, WE NEED YOU BACK!”

Suddenly the Tempest tilts his head towards the hole, having nearly forgotten it was there, but immediately upon recalling its existence it’s followed up by the dread of what was supplied with the revelation. He turns his head up instantly after, still unable to stand.

Standing over the Tempest, Exitium glances through the hole down at where the group is, also not having realized they were there, for now the entire group he had been hunting down were all packed in one small room with no escape for any of them.

Keeping the pressure on his enemy, Exitium relinquishes both of his blades, and he aims one hand towards the hole as red flames begin to sprout out of his hands, creating another weapon however this one aimed at the group instead.

Through audibly gritted teeth, the Tempest lets out a fierce roar as a wave of blue energy discharges from his body, knocking Exitium off of him, and causing the red flames to disperse without any product.

Flung backwards but able to reorient himself and control his landing, Exitium sticks his feet on the ground and slides back a couple feet, his cape blowing back heavily from the immense force of the expulsion.

However, the result hardly left an impact, for Exitium raises his head once again, his crimson eyes fuming.

Across from the fiery devil stands the Tempest, breathing heavily through the dense distortion, nearly having lost himself but managed to be reeled back by those waiting under him, trusting him with their lives.

Regaining his strength as perceivable by the slowing and softening breaths, the Tempest stands up straight, guarding the hole from Exitium with his body.

Face to face with the devil of his own blood, the Tempest clenches his fist and raises it before then commanding, “All of you, get in the pod,” before suddenly mirages of his own being start emerging out of his body rapidly, holographic illusions of himself spawning and transforming all around the room, surrounding the rival swiftly.

Tens of mirages appear, all of them perfectly identical to the host, down to every skin cell of both the black leather and the pale skin, even emitting glows from their own masks, for none of them are discernible from the rest nor from the true self, all of their fists risen. One of the greatest marks of the holosuit, now in action against its toughest opponent.

Simultaneously, all of the mirages break into action, several of them throwing their hands towards Exitium to which they all project blue cables, physically clutching onto the devil in the middle as other mirages charge at him with projected blue scythe blades emitting from their wrists, launched with their own blue residual trails from the edges to the origin.

Latched on by all of the cables thus unable to move his body, the devil simply stands still as he’s charged at from all directions, however without needing to move a muscle he summons red flames from his body to propel chains at immense speeds, chains that penetrate through multiple mirages in the skull from sheer force alone, to which the mirages then collapse backwards in reaction similar to genuine humans, only for their bodies to crack and crumble into blue particles that disperse in the air like vampires being burnt by the sunlight.

In the garage, Ekitai carries Kokei into the pod by the wrist, as she follows mindlessly for still she appears in a daze, entirely disoriented to the mess above her, her eyes still just the same void.

In spite of her mental state, she’s brought into the back seat of the pod, where Ekitai helps her get inside the vehicle, to which the right door she’s brought through materializes shut with a soft whoosh.

Ekitai then turns around to find Dana still below the hole, unable to watch the battle above as all she can hear is the sound of shouts, chains, and energies thrashing against one another violently. However, upon Ekitai’s glance, Dana seems to sense the attention, as she turns back to Ekitai and nods her head understandably before then approaching the pod from the right, the opposite side Ekitai then does.

Both Ekitai and Dana slip into the pod from the remaining passenger doors, Ekitai in the back left and Dana in the front right, for in this instance he wasn’t concerned about claiming the front seat, rather understood the grave situation that the rest were anxious over.

Both of the other doors materialize shut beside them, mostly enclosing the pod all but for the final opening, the one for the driver seat which they both glance at.

Due to the opening, the sounds of the battle above are hardly muffled, allowing them to still hear the distorted roars and howls of the two brothers clashing, which Dana raises her head up to with an uneasy expression.

Above the ceiling, Exitium growls as he jerks his arms, yanking mirages towards himself before manifesting an axe which he beheads several mirages with, causing their heads to fly off their bleeding throats before their heads, bodies, and even the blood splatter itself crumbles into blue particles and fade.

He continually fends off the horde, throwing spears into skulls, projecting cannonballs which themselves fire out other projectiles off the body, and unleashing flying spinning saw blades attached to drones which charge into multiple mirages, dicing their bodies up before they vanish into clouds to which their cables vanish too.

Still surrounding the threat, several of the mirages nearly manage to land strikes to the face with their enhanced dashes hardly perceivable but for the blue blur in their jousting jabs, only for them to be physically blocked by Exitium’s freed forearms regardless, the chains absorbing the energy produced by the mirages, keeping him unharmed yet still swarmed.

Growling in irritation to the infinite supply of nuisances, Exitium brings his arms together in a cross as the heavy chain around his neck begins to redden before igniting in red flames as well as the chains around his arms, and with one final howl he thrashes his arms outwards, discharging an overwhelming retaliatory surge of kinetic energy which overpowers all of the mirages around it, causing their bodies to explode from force they were struck with, resulting in a crimson explosion of blood fully surrounding the devil draped in it before that blood then flashes blue and vanishes, ridding of all the visible enemies around him.

While all of the mirages had reactions similar to a human in how they’d respond to such a force, they were defined as illusions by the fading of their bodies, meaning that as long as their bodies would vanish that meant their bodies weren’t real, for at the very least there should be blood splatter on the floor if the real one were to have fallen. However, all around Exitium there is not one spec of blood on the floor, meaning that while he had bested every single enemy in sight he had clearly not defeated the real one, leading to him to growl restlessly in anticipation, standing his ground.

On the ceiling above the devil fades in the Tempest, his body hanging by a blue spider web just as earlier, for in actuality he did not participate in the assault, but instead was lurking from above the whole time. That is until he relinquishes the cables, dropping down and reeling his right arm back and holding his left hand out. Concurrently his right fist gleams blue with charge from his suit, but his left hand ignites with azureus flames, ones not of technology but of Exhuman ability. In fact, the flames then unleash from his hand in a concentrated bright stream of dancing blaze, aimed not for the enemy but instead for the hole, while he then simultaneously throws his right fist at the devil in an act of both offense and defense.

It was a perfect, excellently executed move.

At least that was the intention.

But then it came back, the hacky cough.

It does not even take a second for Exitium to react, immediately swiveling around and thrashing his hand straight to the Tempest’s throat, immediately dispelling his strike with ease as the built up energy is released anticlimactically, leading to nothing more than the pushback of the devil’s cape.

Choking and struggling for any gasps of air, the Tempest fights back while clinging onto the devil’s wrist, his pale exposed neck clenched tightly and cutting off his circulation. All of the momentum he had in the fight dispelled at an instant.

Through rageful crimson eyes, the devil glares in silence, keeping the restraint on the man above him but in reach, hardly moving despite all the thrashing in retaliation, assuming full control over the tussle just by a single mistake.

Down in the garage, Dana faces forward with intrigue after the flame had passed, and through the windshield of the pod she discovers that on the front bumper of the pod appears an attachment similar to a plow, although lined up with an array of frosty crystal spikes, long and wide like teeth that could eat through anything.

Suddenly completely out of left field, the pod’s engine ignites, roaring like a dragon, causing Dana inside to nearly leap just from how sudden it was.

Above, Exitium instantly glances over to the hole from where the roar came from, perplexed by the sound although comprehending that it was from the direction that the remainder of the group was previously.

Capitalizing off that one moment of disorientation, the Tempest projects an immensely bright blue blade from his hand, one far more opaque and gleaming than the ones he usually summons, coursing with an intense hum.

He then with the blade slashes straight at the devil’s arm in an instantaneous act through a blue trail coming exclusively from his arm to enhance that exact motion, and with such immaculate speed combined by the perfect distraction the blade lands on target, completely slicing the arm from the elbow in half, for whereas his blades were usually merely designed for neutralization this one had lethal impact like a true laser. Without the arm connected to a body, the Tempest is dropped back down as the tenacity is lost, causing the arm to fall to the ground.

With the first strike landed, Exitium lets out a demonic roar in agony, half of his arm gone with one swift slash, and before he can even recover the Tempest immediately charges into him in another blue dash, grasping his body and tackling him straight into the hole, taking every opportunity to make every move as fast as possible, using any advantages he can to stand against a foe with power insurmountably greater than his own.

Below the hole, the pod continues to roar, as inside Ekitai and Dana glance at one another in befuddlement to the sudden ignition, but their perplexion only grows as they notice the last door materializing, the driver’s door, fully enclosing the pod despite no driver stepping inside.

Speechless, Dana starts frantically glancing around through the windows, having entered the pod as commanded, but finding that the one who gave the order wasn’t following it himself. Amidst her confusion however, the thrust of the pod jerks her against the seat.

Out of nowhere the pod launches at rocket speed, still inside the garage, straight into the dark crimson wall, the wall that upon impact with the frosty teeth of the pod is shattered like glass, causing all the fragments to fly outwards as the pod boosts into the deep cyan sunlight of the sunset, for evening had already dawned upon the Earth, casting warm light over the neighborhood which reflects off the thick casing that covers the entire rest of the once golden but now blackened, corrupted treehouse.

Upon emerging out of the cage, the pod drastically slows down, rising up several feet higher in the air over the street, but then arcing normal to the house, remaining close to the garage as it doesn’t yet leave the battle.

Inside of the dimly cyan-lit garage can be seen the plummet of both fighters in a blue comet, crashing down into the bottom floor through the hole, the Tempest on top of the devil, tugging and pulling at each other aggressively.

In the garage, the Tempest and devil both growl as they claw at each other’s face, fighting in each other’s faces as the Tempest temporarily dominates the fight with swift thinking, able to get the upper advantage against the indestructible monster.

That is, however, until a red fiery stream bursts out of the hanging upper arm of the devil, which then shapes into a forearm coupled with a hand, and that extension then colorizes to reveal itself as a restoration of the arm, healing the entire limb in an instant.

With the newly made hand, the devil grabs onto the top of the Tempest’s head, where the hood is, trying to throw him off with the relatively loose artifact.

Recognizing the loss of control, the Tempest desperately claws back to do the most damage he can in such limited time, also grabbing onto the devil’s hood right before he’s tossed off the body with a powerful throw.

Flung up into the air is the man in the leather jacket, whose hood flies off of his head after being thrown off, causing the streaks and lenses of the mask to dim before the carbon fibers unravel away from his face, crawling to the back of his head again, once more exposing his pale face with natural eyes and his four white locks.

By spinning and using cables from his shoulders, the man controls his landing, touching down with his feet and sliding back only a few feet before the cables suspend his movement, keeping him upright as he gasps through his natural voice in front of the distant matte pod baked in the sunset’s rich light.

Recovering his breath, Meditat stands up straight as the cables fade out, and past the white locks of hair covering his face, through the azureus eyes he glares intensely, his pale face bruised after the hard match.

Behind the fight, through the pod’s windows turns the head of Kokei, noticing the result of the tackle, to which her eyes expand even greater, her jaw slightly dropping in complete speechless astoundment, able to see perfectly even with bangs of her pink hair covering her face, for what was in her sight was an image that was immediately burnt into her mind permanently.

In front of Meditat stands up the devil, grunting and groaning after the tussle, although his voice doesn’t have the same demonic synthesization that it previously had, for rather it sounds far more natural albeit still intense.

As the devil stands back up to his feet, his back slanted forwards to rejuvenate himself, what could have initially been mistaken as the black hood clearly becomes waving thick unkempt black hair, while tangled and chaotically curly helped by the length reaching to the shoulders, the hair is very much human and covers what would be the black mask.

However, as the devil leans upright with slowing breaths, and the many black bangs curled like flames–as if his head was constantly blazing–begin to part ways from the breeze, past the cover is not the black of the mask but rather what appears to be skin; true human skin.

With more bangs parting, more of the face becomes revealed, a slender slim face with the similar structure of the one in the mask appears, although with the greater clarity of a latino man, the complexity of a man in middle ages, potentially in his forties but even then very much healthy with nearly perfect skin, full thick hair, and while there are wrinkles they are not nearly as prevalent as that of an older senior.

Facing completely forward with more strands of hair sliding away from the face, it’s noticeable that his face is visibly rough and dirtied, healthy but not pure, with dark eye bags below eyes with inhumanly crimson irises, with pupils that gleam bright red and six streaks extending off in varying directions into the edges of each iris similarly to a sun, albeit with unhinged snaky curves and coils more akin to fire, a demented reflection of his brother’s former appearance.

Even without the mask his constant grimace was unnerving, with just as much if not more rage boiling through his natural eyes, his teeth clenched tightly for even when unmasked he doesn’t show embarrassment or shame, but rather remains submerged in ferocious hatred.

Above all, he was human, that was very much clear. Human, with rich latino skin, with long unkempt hair, physically a middle-aged adult no more.

Standing face to face in the garage, Meditat stares upright with his scarce white locks ahead of his immensely pale, wrinkly face, eyeing back with sharp azure eyes as the cyan sunlight shines on his side of the garage, tinting part of his body primarily the back in its hue.

On the other side glares Exitium with his flourishing black bangs waving backwards along with his cape, exposing his rich, although scarred face, eyeing back with sharp crimson eyes as he’s surrounded by the darkness far from the light, shadowing part of his body primarily the back in pure blackness.

Both stare back at each other in silence, waiting for the other to act, both of them exposed and facing each other with their own naked eyes.

Suddenly then, Exitium raises his hand up, and red flames sprout out of his hand spread out across the garage like a wall, although that’s until the flames section off and morph into viking axes, axes that then begin to spin rapidly, garnering up energy while suspended in position.

Standing directly in the aim of the axes, Meditat first stands relaxed, unconcerned, even when watching his own death down. He simply breathes gently, his locks waving over his face, waiting with calm blue eyes as the cyan light shines on him.

However, that’s when the image of what’s behind him sharpens, for also directly in the aim is the black pod waiting outside, and inside the pod is the whole group, all of them within range of being struck down. That is when his eyes expand with anxiety, for no longer was he facing death alone, but he was about to drag the others down with him. Then, it became a problem, one that riled him up, one that shook him to his core.

With one swift wave of the hand and a final roar, Exitium throws the volley of viking axes straight towards the end of the garage, straight for not only Meditat but the pod holding all of his allies too, intending to finish them off with one swift strike.

Realizing this, Meditat lets out an even more vigorous scream, and he throws his arms forward as azureus flames burst out of his palms and immediately spread across him like a wall, and within his fierce cries he manifests a wall of frosty crystals right in front of the axes, just as he had done the previous strike, and once again the immediately constructed wall wards off the axes as not one of them breaks through.

However, dissimilar to last time, Meditat immediately releases a series of heavy, suffocating coughs, so vile that he leans forward, but is unable to catch the first few after shielding his arms, although he manages to recover fairly quickly as he suffers for several seconds on the other side of the wall until the prolonged, uncomfortable cough finally comes to an end, and he can finally stand straight.

But past his body, in front of where he had coughed to before managing to cover his mouth, is a visible wide crimson splatter over the frosty surface, one that sticks out against the pure wall, visible from afar.

While on Meditat’s forearm there is also a splatter of the same crimson substance so much so that it nearly covers his leather sleeve, the splatter soon disintegrates as the suit rids of the alien substance on its mesh, hiding any traces, although failing to do so on the traces on the wall itself.

Before Meditat can concern over the splatter however, he hears a muffled albeit heavy punch from the other side of the wall, to which the entire garage shakes. He stumbles backwards, only for another punch to follow, and then another, each getting slightly louder than the last.

After regaining his stance, he gazes at the wall as one by one more punches land on the wall, and gradually from right in front of him cracks begin to form in the wall, first only a few but then rather growing and splintering off into new paths like an egg beginning to crack, for only in seconds the entire wall becomes consumed in cracks.

Staring at the breaking wall, Meditat hears the distant familiar feminine shout of his friend: “MEDIT, COME!”

Suddenly he glances backwards to the direction of the voice with wide eyes as the wall continues to crack and dent.

Inside the garage Meditat gazes at the matte pod hovering over the white street in the passing sunset, and through a window fully opened despite the dangers of doing so, Dana sticks her head out and shouts desperately with amber bangs waving in the wind, beseeching earnestly: “COME BACK, PLEASE!!”

While watching his friend shout, Meditat hears even more cracks break out behind him, and he glimpses back to see that at this point the frosty wall was composed of visibly fragmented components, components that only needed slightly more force to detach from one another, and while only barely perceivable a certain crimson hue appears through the wall, emerging out of the fissures and growing ever stronger.

Only one second at most was given to the decision: Finish the fight or escort the rest to safety. Both right next to him, both he could put his soul into completing, it was only a matter of what that choice was.

He stands by the center of the garage, with the fragmenting frosty wall on one side leading to the emergence of his enemy, and the awaiting pod on the other side, containing the allies hoping for his company, the side that projects the cyan light onto his back.

That is when Meditat then spins around, turning towards the light, his locks breezing past his face as he kicks off with his foot into a sprint, racing back towards the end of the garage. He reaches the edge just as the frosty wall behind him shatters into countless pieces, but instead of looking back at the enemy waiting for him he pursues onward, charging through the end of the garage and leaping in the air, reaching his hand forward and projecting a cable all the way to matte pod levitating in place, to which his body accelerates towards the top of the pod before being thrusted upwards, allowing him to spin over the top of the pod and return over to the far side where the driver’s door dematerializes just in the nick of time for him to enter through, closing promptly thereafter.

Inside the pod, back at the helm in the driver’s seat, Meditat glances past Dana through the window at the garage of the black tree to find that through its stem, standing over the fragments of the frosty crystals waits the devil, his black cape waving with his hair as he glares through crimson eyes. The chains around his arms exude red flames, prepared for another round, as he stares up in anticipation, with no end that his rage could take him.

However, Meditat then shifts his gaze to Dana, who stares back at him with a terrified face, desperately waiting to leave as seen in her watery green eyes, just wanting this nightmarish today to come to an end.

Finally, Meditat chooses to face ahead, and drive the pod forth down the street, away from the black tree, and away from his brother.

Standing alone in the garage, Exitium watches while panting heavily from the energy he exerted to punch through the wall, for in an instant he views the pod’s departure, racing off into the distance immediately out of range.

But to pursue now would already present a vast disadvantage, even in that single second they could be theoretically miles away, or at the very least in takeoff. And while the pod needed no energy to fly, he did, and he was already parched.

So instead, he just stares into the sunset over the golden forest, his cape and hair breezing in the wind, surrounded by the fragments of the wall.

After narrowly failing to capture the group, Exitium lowers his head down with a sigh, disappointed after all the work he had to do, knowing now he had so much more just to complete his one simple mission to freedom.

However, upon lowering his gaze, Exitium notices that among the frosty fragments of the wall he broke off, a few of them specifically were covered in red, red that he knew he himself did not spill, and yet red nonetheless.

It was a strange sight, an insightful one, and one that infatuated him after having nearly made no strides in this assault.

For that was not the case any more.

There was more to this story.

And that all was presented in the few rocks on the ground that were splattered in blood among the many others.

Above the neighborhood, the matte pod rises up as its engine hums ferociously, making its escape from the devil in heaven, flying up as its body is tinted in the deep cyan of the sunset. It climbs up towards the atmosphere in a full planetary departure, even if it meant abandoning the one haven they seemed to have found amongst the many others that couldn’t stick.

Inside the pod, Ekitai lets out a soft sigh, leaning back. He turns his head towards Kokei, only to find a strange sight that is her hollow glare straight ahead at the front of the pod.

Ekitai trails the glare, which sits beside Dana, who is leaned against her seat with the side of her head against the leather cushioning, allowing her a view of the beautiful golden cities on the clouds, a paradise to her eyes.

Next to her, the aim of the glare, is the driver Meditat, who wears a meditative expression, frowning with an introspective stare, paying attention to the road ahead while also contemplating in his own mindspace deeply. His head is partly lowered as he reflects on the events that had just transpired, events that only served to further escalate their dire situation.

He knew that even though they had escaped now, they weren’t truly free. No, they were far from, for even though they broke out of the dark walls, they were still inside his cage.

A cage that he wasn’t sure if they would ever escape from.

A cage that extends beyond the atmosphere of the Earth, beyond the reaches of space, for it is a cage that is not fixed in space but follows their every move, and has been for the past decades.

So even as the matte pod soars into the sunset, off into the cosmos above the blue sky and into the vacuum amongst the other ninety nine worlds, it was far from free.

Because no matter how far they went, the cage only got smaller.