There were little to no interruptions as we made our way to Clover’s cell. Feoli had mapped the place out in advance which was a huge time saver. I decided to stick with them until Clover was on the surface, that seemed like the best place for her to be given the circumstances. With Gurl possibly watching, Belfast would inevitably send their guys after us, coming from all sides.

If I had decided to abandon the group, then they’d be vulnerable to a trap, the enemy could easily cut power to the elevators and lock them down here. That would give the enemy all sorts of advantages.

My mind was firing out ideas, possible methods they might use to take us out. This was it; this was a real fight, for survival, not ideals. Unlike Babel this wasn’t something I could run from. Too many people had met Emmett, if I didn’t clean things up properly that would be the end of my semi-social life.

If I lost this fight, Clover would be out of my life, so regardless of whether or not the shark woman decides to hunt me down, or Gurl decides to rattle the hornets' nest, my life would be forever changed.

I wouldn’t have Saoirse anymore.

I’d be alone.

We stood at the door to her cell, me, Feoli, and the squad. Feoli gave a nod, telling me to be the one to open the door- to check on Clover.

“It’s us,” I said dumbly. At first, I thought about simply knocking on the prison door to check on her.

I smartened up, telling her to, “step away from the door, I’m coming in.”

I was lax before, the fact that I was barging in on a pitch-black prison... That in and of itself didn’t matter. I’d ran past a ton like it, with far more innocent people behind the doors. What killed, or rather, reduced my usual enthusiasm- tensed my throat, was the fact that it was hers. And still, I wasn’t as serious as I should have been. Not as present as I was supposed to be.

For a second, I thought they might’ve relocated her, but then she walked out from the back of the room. Slowly. Eventually stopping before me.

“Status report,” she said bluntly. Despite being caught off guard I still managed to put everything together for her.

“We’ve got a small group of your men with us- about seven. And Feoli- Adonis’ tag along, was a double agent. She’s given us information on the other Units and-”

She walked by me, swerving around and out, “that’s not what I care about.”

She asked the crowd, which Feoli was standing at the back of, “where are the other people? Mullet, Izzy... Rocky, when you said that Emmett was alive... was that a lie?”

I tried to think of how to answer that. The problem with adding lies to lies is that things get, well, mixed up. As far as Feoli knew, it was a lie, because Gurl had already informed her that Emmett was a corpse- however, that was the real lie, and now-

“He’s dead,” Feoli finally answered, “I’m sorry. I know you were close.”

I realised too late that Feoli had sent me into that room so I could try and console Clover, it seemed like Feoli herself was going to be the bearer of bad news.

Clover just looked down. Around her neck was a little bruised, but it was her face that was dark and sore looking.

Eventually she flashed her eyes and asked, “can someone give me a gun? Would be handy.” One of her men obliged, passing her a handgun, light in comparison to what else they were carrying.

Made sense, she’d be at the back of the entourage anyway, there was hardly a reason for her to have a firearm at all.

She pointed it at Feoli’s eye. Without turning her head to look up at her, Clover muttered, “double agent... so you’ve been on our side from the start?”

Feoli was choosing her words carefully, her unobscured eye flickered to me, then back to Clover, who pushed the gun forward a bit.

“Yes. I’ve... been gathering information, leaking it to your men since a day ago.”

Clover finally looked up and around, “Oh. So, is that why none of you were there when they broke into my house? Because you were following her advice over mine?”

Feoli prepared herself for going all in. “No. Higher up. There was a moment at the first hotel where I ‘borrowed’ your phone- used my abilities to lift your fingerprints to get into it. That’s how I got Bastard’s number. Gurl had seen more than you could have anticipated. I don’t know when or how she found out, but she knew your entire plan. We called off the attack. Because the only way your men would have survived a fight with Bea was if they had taken her by surprise.”

The helmeted men watched the situation unfolding in front of them. None of them tracked their guns on Feoli, none of them followed their boss’ lead.

Feoli finished, “There was a greater chance for survival if an outright conflict had been avoided. My goal was to make this as clean a victory for you as possible.”

Clover’s chest rose and fell, her breathing seemed languished.

“Then why did you let them die in that room? Why didn’t you help them?”

Feoli answered as best she could, “If I had done anything, I'd be dead to.”

Clover held the gun still.

Feoli at last looked away. “There are still the others. The longer we stand here... the fewer I can guarantee.”

To an outside observer, that would have been obvious. Where Clover was standing, it was something she’d completely ignored.

Pointing the gun with a little more life than before, she asked, “Where are they?”

“Do you want me to tell you, or to save them?”

Clover didn’t even seem angry, or emotional for that matter. She just lowered her gun.

With that, we could finally carry on. At first, I was planning on ditching them, it simply seemed more tactical for us to divide soon, due to the fact that Sea-threw Gurl, (probably) can’t watch both groups at once. Feoli had given me Gurl’s current location, it was a room on the same floor as our hotel room, so the most efficient way for me to handle the enemy would be to take out Gurl, then the boss, and then the fomorians.

But Feoli also gave out some important information on her previous allies.

“Me and Bea are frustratingly equal,” she started as we crept down the hall, “While I’m better at using our magic then her, she’s the greater combatant, in any environment. It’s not a power per say, but she adapts and overcomes her terrain. That’s why she was the first of us sent to Ireland. The structures her magic can create a far less complex than mine- I spent time researching organisms and their anatomy, she struggled to grasp the basics of the power. She can transmute water just fine now - if only transforming it to bone or flesh; nothing live.”

I looked to Clover, stupidly expecting a remark at Feoli’s expense or something. She wasn’t even checking down the corridors, she was just being pushed forward in the centre of her armoured guard, her eyes always low.

I asked Feoli, “what are the odds you’ll be able to take the both of them on?”

“Oh, if I were to fight both Bea and Arasan, I’d die. Sruthan’s power has manifested ‘wrong’ as the Witch Mother says. She can only convert flesh to flesh, it isn’t the proper use of Balor’s power, though pared with her raw physical strength and adaptive power- and that is a true power- the anti-evolution of Balor.”

The way things were shaping out, I’d have to fight the fomorian’s with them, and thus, their boss would be given time to reach us. That could only spell trouble. My goal was to take him out quickly, and if I couldn’t do that, I’d have to lure him somewhere secluded, like the old shipping yard, or I'd have to keep it small, in one of the hotel rooms.

In the event that Feoli, Clover, or even Mullet or Izzy were wounded or worse by Belfast, I doubt I'd be able to fight with a cool head, being torn between the desire to pulverise my opponent, concern for the injured, or even the crushing helplessness like with Grey, or Bob. And all the people who had been killed by the Circuit board.

I at last decided, “If that’s the case I'll stand with you before I go to take out Gurl and-”

Feoli waved a hand, “It won’t come to that. I’ll talk Sruthan down.”

As the others ran to the cell door, I stood, simply thinking, ‘right, because it’s not like the last time we saw her she was out for blood or anything’.

I got called over to bust down their cell, Mullet and Izzy’s. After I did my job, Clover tapped me on the back, “Let me talk to them before we move on.”

One of the soldiers made a fair point, “We’ve gotta move miss, any second now enemy forces will be closing in on us. Junk Monkey here is tough, but he isn’t wide enough to catch all the bullets, and he’s too candy-ass to get the fuckers.”

I felt I had to step in, not because I was offended by him calling me ‘Junk Monkey’, but because I was empathetic to Clover’s plight. I wanted her to be ok, even if that wasn’t the focus. Right now, we needed her to sharpen up. That wasn’t happening, however.

I felt like it’d be uncouth to watch from the door, so I stood around the corner from the black hole I'd opened, simply listening to the parts that might involve me.

She wandered in and I was expecting her mood to change just a little. She spoke softly, bluntly. I couldn't make out many of the specifics.

There was a sharp clapping sound as Clover was talking, which coincided with her silence.

Her men raised their rifles checking the cell, Clover shouted out to them, “It’s fine!”

Izzy shouted louder, “Aye fuck, any of this is alright! What’s this about Saoirse- or Clover, that's what the fucking drug lord was calling ye! What, you the mascot of that shite pub Mullet goes to? What the actual fuck is-”

“I’m the owner of that shite pub- just let me talk, let me get you out of here. Then you can... disassociate with me, fine?” There was finally some fight in her, some drive.

Feoli was checking down the corridors- I was too caught up in their arguing.

“I’m... To put it simply, yeah, I’m a drug dealer, and my- my dad is a part of the mafia, or whatever. This is- it's all my fault. They’re here for me. And- and I don’t mean they’re here for me because of my parents- I'm the one who fucked with these guys. I wasn’t supposed to come back north.”

There was confused silence. “Then why the fuck did you! And why did you bring us with you?” Izzy was saying what I'd been thinking. Finally, I thought I was going to get an answer. I expected her to admit that she’d overestimated herself, that she was thinking too highly of herself. That was my excuse at least.

But Clover rasped, her eyes probably as dark as when they were in the light.

“I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my friends.”

After a moments silence there was another, heavier clap.

Somebody had thrown a punch. I went to the door first, to stop the guards from doing anything unnecessary.

I could barely make out what I was seeing.

Clover was down, Mullet was holding her by the neck of her jacket, almost interrogating her.

“What the fuck are we to you, huh?” He lashed out at her, “You seriously think you can string us along like this? I don’t want a part of It! I don’t!”

Clover replied coldly, “Neither did I, shit head. Imagine that after being hospitalised you’re forbidden from seeing anyone from your life except your fucking dad. All you can do is count the days pass as you stay bed bound, your- uncles and cousins visit, but nobody who talks to you like a person. You watch the pages fall from the calendar, the hands of the clock move, tick, tick, tick. When you do recover you have to start all over again, you try to build up your courage and self-esteem to go somewhere new. You try to be friendly and open, but that’s a little hard when you still hear that clock going, when you realise that your timer is running out, there is no going back.”

Mullet gritted his teeth, like he was trying to understand- yet it meant nothing, not in comparison to what she’d done to him.

“Before we left, I told you and Emmett that I was going to fucking propose- did you even consider the thought of calling this off? Telling us to just leave?”

She tried to look him in the eyes, but it was getting harder, Clover’s eyes were shaking, wincing from the throbbing pain.

“Once your clock starts ticking- once you realise that your life is ending- it's- primal. You just smacked the shit out of me. You hit me after I told you I had armed men out there. Because you were acting on instinct. I threatened you and your home by simply being there. For me, it isn’t some British bitch that’s the enemy, it’s this damn life. It’s the fact that I’m simply being pushed and pulled by forces I never wanted to be involved with. I am my enemy.”

“I had to sit in the front of that biology classroom or in your rusty old car, while my real life was rotting away. While people who I actually like start dropping like flies and all- all I can do is identify the fucking bodies.”

Even in the dark her eyes looked red. She turned her head from the light.

“Ae, Connor... And now I'm going to have to do the same with that fucking goober,” she chortled, “I brought him. I pressured him. If you think what I did to you is horrible, I did worse to him. You were right Mullet. This whole time I’ve just been using him, taking advantage of him. Hate me. Fine, but...”

Mullet let go, if only physically. He stood up and started towards me.

He stared for a moment. I looked down.

Izzy finally spoke up, “Saoirse. Let's just... just go, yeah?”

Clover nodded, “Yeah.”

Feoli spoke up as Clover walked, “The exit- the elevator cart will be heavily guarded, I suggest that Shamrock and I lead by a few meters, while-”

Clover turned, “No. We're going to get out of here before we fight anyone.”

I was at least happy that she was arguing, “you have a plan.”

“Yeah,” she didn’t nod, simply staring at me, “you’re going to punch a hole in the roof, and make it quick, before Gurl can remobilise the guys she’s sending down the shaft.”

I looked up at the ceiling, then back down. “That doesn’t seem safe.”

She just looked at me like I was an idiot.

Ah, right, guns are dangerous too.

.

.

.

We were out on the ground floor; our guys were sealing off the elevator from this side so that any troops down there wouldn’t be able to reach us. By the look of things, that’s where the majority of them were, only a few were in the lobby when I got there.

Luckily, the hole I made had led into a storage closet. I scouted ahead before helping the others up the fifteen-foot hole, that way I could pacify the enemies without them being at risk. Them being Belfast’s guys.

I had underestimated the passage of time, the sun was shining through the glass walls of the reception, the receptionist herself was less than sunny, shooting at me shortly after contact. We soon had the first floor completely secured, then it was just a matter of figuring out how to transport Mullet, Izzy, and Clover to safety.

Gurl would be watching, and with her eyes on us and the city as our enemy, their safety wouldn’t be guaranteed. And I couldn’t be that guarantee, not when there were still more people down there, like Clover’s friend, the location of whom was unknown. I’d just messed with the structural integrity of the building, and this wasn’t one of the internationals super structures, if things got out of hand the place would come down on all of us. The safest play was to fight, still. I needed to fight.

And I did.

Regardless of the outcome, I made my decisions. Now I have to live with them.

The others were focused on detailing the location of their outpost, the one they’d told Feoli about. Apparently, things were moving smoothly as far as that plan was concerned. Until shots were fired.

I’d made damn well sure that the enemies on the ground floor were taken care of, so my first thought was that they were swarming down on us, but Feoli identified their location.

“Outside,” she ducked behind a piece of furniture. I jumped out onto the street through the glass, making a target out of myself. The costume helped with that. There was a black car spinning out into the street, it seemed like it was the only car out, though that might have been because it was currently ramming towards me.

They came barrelling into me, the best I could do was roll over the top, it was sort of like somebody pulling a stool out from under you. When they made a fast turn and I was thrown back onto the road, I thought, huh, that’s the second time I've been hit by a car today.

I bounced back up with some soreness, teetering on my feet as I tried to find my bearings. Their car was sitting still, the driver suddenly made a move to reverse back around, while his passengers fired off into the hotel. They were being ordered by somebody who knew what they were doing.

Looking around, I could see that there really weren’t any other cars or people on the street, a fire engine was blocking one side of the street, the other end had tape up. The car was moving back and forth, almost dangling in front of the fire truck. They were trying to find space, to turn and run me down again.

Not unless I ran them down first.

I approached from the side; bullets shot out the half-open window, my only concern was that it might break through my mask. Luckily that wasn’t the case, it was soft so that it wouldn’t be punched through, I was hard enough to stop the fabric from getting torn.

I slid a leg under the vehicle and arched my knee. There was a slight strain in my leg, but the car tipped just fine.

They were stuck, my next step was to rip off the car door, scare them a little- I didn’t get that far.

On my right, I was blasted by a beam of some kind.

As I rolled down the road, I hadn’t a clue what was going on, whatever it was, it kept me too busy to think. As I finally landed on my back, with a skid, I brought my hands up to it. That’s when I felt the hundreds of long quills pointing out of my front.

If I’d inspected anymore I'd have found little damage to my self- they were needled into my costume. Despite the durable material, these bony spines had spiked through with such speed that the stream had actually moved me.

I acted cautiously, or rather, I acted urgently. I jumped up, slamming into a glass wall, the third floor of a building. I didn’t crash through, I stuck in place for a couple seconds, just long enough for me to make sense of what was going on the ground.

I saw someone standing beside the fire truck, a hose in their hand. I calmed down, grabbing a hold on the situation.

Falling back down to earth, I kicked off towards the flipped car. Feoli had said she could fight evenly with Bea. Getting shot at seemed like a different field, I had more experience with that than her. By now the militia men were shooting into the hotel again, they’d clued in on the fact that I wasn’t a viable target.

As I ran forward, I pulled the quills off with one hand and the other weathered against the hail of bone that was still focused on me. Bea, the more petite of the three witches, was keeping her distance, transmuting the hose water into a solid as it left the nozzle. As long as I actively fought against the stream I wasn’t going to be pushed back. The initial shock had passed, and she could no longer take me by surprise.

Now we knew that the fomorians were on the scene, it wouldn’t be out of the question for Sruthan to make an appearance soon. On top of that, I could safely assume that Bea had something else planned, she’d been given the time for it. I was hesitant to dive straight in. It’s the right move if I'm getting shot at or stabbed, but when you’re facing a unit, there’s allows a feeling that something else lies under the surface. A hidden power or tactic, either is terrifying on its own.

Still, you can’t play to safe, especially not when you’re the front runner. I put myself on the other side of the flipped car from Bea, breaking through the front windscreen with a hammering fist. They were shooting at me again now; they knew it wouldn’t work but at this point that was their only option. I grasped at their guns, making an unfortunate mistake with one of them; I crushed the barrel as it was firing, leading to the rifle back firing in a hot blast.

I didn’t have time to pity the man clutching his smoking hands to his chest, as the other side of the battlefield was heating up in a different way.

I could feel a slight tremoring in the ground, pulling myself away from the broken window and peeking back over at Bea.

Pillars of bone stabbed out from the wet earth, as the fomorian wedged herself between the truck and the newly formed phalanx. I crept forward, gun shots still rang out through the air, presumable from the Mountain’s guys now. I wanted to jump in, but I still didn’t have a good enough grasp of her ability. I approached from the side, I was quick and low, when the car was no longer obscuring my vision, I could see Feoli emerging from the lobby.

I couldn’t help but feel giddy, things were syncing up nicely.

I came up at Bea’s side and grabbed at the hose, hard lumps in a bone-white broth sprayed as she struggled to hold on to it. Getting a closer look at her face, a primal instinct told me that I was about to be eaten. She was hissing like some kind of over-sized cat. My fight or flight response kicked in, literally, as I raised my leg and twisted my torso to throw my foot into her and boot her away.

She fell slipping in the remaining water and broth. She fell on her face a couple steps away from me. I was holding the hose, and for a split second I was focused on getting it under control or stopping it somehow. She was down but not out. The broth built up and boiled at my feet for a second, before erupting upwards.

I raised my arms above my head, as the structure enveloped my lower half. Each spire had towered up as far as it could. Once it was fully solid, I started breaking away at them with my fist- I would’ve used my legs to kick them out in one go, but it was like they were glued in place. If I had thought about it anymore than I did, I would have found a better way to get out, probably one that involved pulling really, really hard.

But Bea was back on her feet, and like Feoli she stabbed straight at my neck with an ice pick.

My throat made a clicking sound as at collided, but the most damage it did was knocking the wind out of me. When she saw that didn’t work, she started to wail on me. It hurt a little, but I couldn’t do much while I was stuck. If Sruthan came in now, that’d be game over, she’d turn me to paste with her magic.

I threw a fist into one of my feet, freeing most of it. That was as far as I could get, Bea had changed her plan, she was wrestling for the hose in my other hand, pink fleshy growths popped out as she made contact with it. If she got a hold of it, I'd end up in a similar situation to the one with Noah during Irminsul.

I could have handled her on my own, but Feoli saw that there was a chance of this going in the enemy's favour. First, she lobbed a pufferfish at Bea from behind. Then as the puffer burst, the water stored inside it formed another creature, something with tentacles that grasped at Bea’s eyes and ears. Keeping clear of her sharp mouth, it wrapped around her neck.

She had to give up on the hose to tear it off of her, and so she could change her focus to Feoli.

I was a little happy at first, nostalgic even. It reminded me of the short fight we’d had with Isaac so long ago. To me it was over half a year. To her it was five months. Regardless, I think I can actually say that she is my friend. There’s a ton of evidence to the contrary, but I don’t mind. She helps me.

But as they clashed the differences between her and me were made clear. Feoli had stabbed her knives out, she was going for the vitals.

I didn’t think about anything else, I simply reached out as far as I could and grabbed Bea by the scalp.

Then I tossed her. She flung way over the barricade. It would take a while for her or Feoli to close the gap, Bea wouldn’t be running straight at us, not into the gun fire.

Now that I finally had a moment, I could see that the road had been terraformed by meat and bone. The harder stuff served to block the line of sight from inside the lobby.

I took a moment to pull my foot out, a large chunk of tarmac coming out with it. I understood why it was so hard for me to pull my foot out, the water that had seeped underground had been remade as an interconnected network that chained me to the earth. I stepped on the chunk with my other foot to break it off.

“If I leave now, can you handle things here?” I wanted to make sure before I left.

She was still in the fight, her eyes raced around as she overlooked the question. Feoli made a grab for the hose and got to work with the water. The process was far slower than it had been with Bea, perhaps because Feoli’s form of the ability was more delicate.

There wasn’t much progress, so I pointed to the fire truck, “If you want a calm body of water, there’s one inside. I can shut off the hose-”

She nodded and gave the still-blasting nozzle to me. I fiddled with it until I could get it to stop, she got to the source of the water in the engine.

I phrased my question, “Taking out Gurl now is the best move. We know where she is, and by neutralising her we’ll cripple their intel. It’ll mean we can get the others out of here and regroup with Clover’s other forces. Then I’ll focus all my effort on helping you with Bea and Sruthan.”

Feoli thought about it.

“Get gurl, then Belfast.”

I smirked at her efficiency, now encouraged to match it.

Some of the men stalked out of the lobby, ready to neutralise the men in the car.

I had to set things straight for everyone, “They’re unarmed, do not shoot them.” they stared back at me blankly before advancing. I looked for Feoli’s eyes instead, as I said, “If they’re at your mercy, don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Her eyes showed a sign of life.

I took a few steps back, before jumping up. I was going straight for the suite Adonis had hooked us up with.

I lost momentum as I came up to a balcony, landed smoothly on the side of the building, grabbing at some a railing.

I was thinking about how I was going to do this. I understood that all I needed to do was tie Gurl up or something to take her out of communication with the others. I was thinking about Belfast. I was thinking that even if I did beat him, what was I going to do after that?

Now that I'm on good terms with the Internationals, I’d probably have called them and asked if they could put this guy away. But he’s on better terms with the Ints. They won’t imprison Isaac for his crimes because of his political power, convicting Belfast would probably go the same way.

The Mountain was a fifty-fifty split. On one hand Bastard had forbidden Clover from engaging with Belfast, and on the other hand Feoli had been allowed to mobilise Mountain troops and was going to be rewarded for helping Clover get out of this. I didn’t understand what his game was. It was a bad idea to leave the decision making to my enemies either way.

As I climbed up and over, I was beginning to realise that Schism’s option was the only sustainable one. To think I'd lectured the others on murder. Right now, I saying to myself ‘if Belfast does die during our fight, it’ll be Schism’s fault. It’ll be his choice, not mine, I don’t have any other option but to fight!’

The truth is, after what he did to those people, I wanted him gone. The fact that he was standing on the same planet as me was sickening enough, to think he was coming for me- For the life I'd built-

I reflected on what Clover had said. This man steals. He is evil.

I sighed.

He’s human. A person. A terrible person, but- I don’t want a person like that to live in this world, but I couldn’t live in a world where I was responsible for a man’s death.

That exact thought made my stomach churn.

If I was responsible, then it would destroy any chance of me living a regular life. Even at that point I was looking to go back to my life with Saoirse, and Mullet I suppose, and whoever else I could find to talk too...

As I walked into the suite, I glanced around for her.

I saw Adonis at the table with some of the other people that had been in that execution room.

On the sofa, Belfast was eating a wrap.