Zone Of The Enders Fan Fiction ❯ Zone of the Enders: Triad 2177 ❯ Piggy ( Chapter 9 )

Rupert Longbottom was a rather infamous gun runner, drug pusher, and was highly active in the Antillia underground gambling scene. He had seven casinos under his belt, a stock of military-issue pistols going to a small-time Mars mob wanting to make it big, and was sitting on the biggest stack of money imaginable being laundered as he sat there in that dark room. None of this mattered, however, since Rupert was attacked inside his favorite bar by two weirdos, knocked out, and had woken up tied to a chair inside a room lit by a single lamp.

"Hey, little piggy," a voice said from a corner.

"What did you call me?" Ruper asked nervously.

"I called you a piggy, pig," the voice replied. The voice's owner stepped from the darkness and sat in a chair in front of him. The man wore black boots, pants, and a short-sleeved coat over a black shirt. The coat was embroidered around the edges with gold and he wore fingerless black gloves on his hands. His muscles were bulging and developed, his face was long and had a few small scars on each cheek. His hair was bright blonde, pulled tight into a long ponytail. Rupert cocked his head and saw two silky white sheets hanging off his back, shining in the lamplight.

"I don't appreciate being called that. Let me go before someone notices I'm gone and calls in a favor. You can rest assured I won't go unnoticed while missing," Rupert demanded.

The man grinned widely and laughed as hard as he could. "Go ahead, pig! Call in a favor! No one will hear you, but I can guarantee...God will hear you!"

"What the fuck are you talking about? Did I get kidnaped by some religious cult?" Rupert said, sneering.

"God can and will hear the pleas of all the sinners. You, my friend, are a sinner. You have been lead from the path of righteousness and I can guarantee you that he will redeem you of your sins," the man explained.

"Look, there is no 'God' in these times. Everyone just does what they want, living for the moment and dying when they choose to," Ruper said, watching the man walk over to the wall and pick something up. "There's nothing in death, everyone evades it."

"I can guarantee you God exists. I can prove it to you, but that'd be a waste of time. Your soul is already that of the devil's himself," the man said, walking back to him with a handgun and slammed a clip up into it.

"What are you gonna do with that?" Rupert said, fear suddenly entering his voice.

"I shall cleanse you of your sins, pig. Swine like you are not allowed to live amongst man as long as you continue to sin and further the downward spiral mankind now lives upon," the man said, grinning so widely, the backs of his jaw shown.

Rupert's eyes widened. He suddenly knew he was in the hands of a madman.

"Scared of death, Rupert? Are you afraid that you'll loose your livelihood in death? That you won't get to enjoy the riches and spoils of your eternal life in God's eternal kingdom?" the man said, jamming the gun onto Rupert's skull.

"Who wouldn't be?" Rupert said softly, his voice quivering in fear.

"Good, you should be. You have proven to be human, for you show conscience and remorse. You know what you did wrong and now you know you're going to hell. Sinners like you who refuse God's redemption are lost, just pathetic swine and therefore are unnecessary. May God have mercy on your eternal soul," the man said. He grinned the same wide grin as before and laughed maniacally.

Rupert looked up at the man's face. He shuddered in fear and let out a blood curdling scream. The irises of the man's eyes had turned bright gold and the pupils were bright red. Rupert continued to scream, flailing wildly.

The man laughed again and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but nothing happened.

Rupert stopped and leaned his head back. He had turned pale as a ghost.

"Death, such a fickle thing," the man started, his eyes turning back to normal,"every man fears it and when it comes, he either laments his life as if it were nothing...or he runs from Death. He grips everything he has as hard as he can and ends up futilely resisting fate. You, pitiful swine, are just that kind of man, a coward!"

"What's wrong with you? Are you insane?" Rupert screamed.

"Not insane...no, not insane, swine. I have seen the light of death and I have seen God. I know better than to fear death. Nothing can stop me now, 'cuz I don't care anymore. Let death come, I'll embrace it again gladly and willingly," the man said, jamming the gun against the side of his own head.

"Please, let me go. I've pissed my pants, embarrassed myself, and had the living shit scared out of me for once in my life. Let me go or ask what you want. I'll give you anything!" Ruper pleaded, now in tears.

"Tell me about that Orbital Frame you have hidden in the warehouse twenty miles from your mansion," the man said, his tone instantly changing from maniacal to serious.

"It just showed up in one of my shipments from Magaritifier County one day! Honest!" Rupert said, panicking again.

"Do you know how to pilot it?" the man asked, continuing a string of questions.

"Yes, I know. I had some brief training a long time ago. I'm ex-military," Rupert explained.

"And when and if you got in, did you feel your wings unfurl?"

Rupert stammered on a syllable. "What?" he blurted, completely puzzled.

The man sighed and groaned in aggravation. "Just then, when my eyes changed, didn't you notice my wings? All seraphim have them! Three pairs, two pointing up diagonally, two pointing to the side, and two pointing downward diagonally. If you were who I'm looking for, then you'd know what I mean."

Rupert cast a completely puzzled look at the man. "You are fucking insane, you know?"

"Did you see them or not?" the man asked, raising his voice.

"No! I have no idea what you're talking about!" Rupert blurted out.

The man laughed again in response. "That's all I wanted to know, thank you. May you rest in peace," the man said, his eyes changing color as he smiling his insane smile again.

"Wait! I can give you money, I can-" Ruper pleaded, flailing wildly again.

The man tossed the handgun aside and pulled a black revolver from his coat. The revolver, however, didn't have a rotating chamber or even bullet chambers, the mid-section was one cylinder. The man pulled the hammer back for a moment and let it back down.

"Please, I beg of you, don't!" Rupert cried out.

The man jammed the revolver into the man's forehead and pulled the trigger. The shot fired right through his head. Blood splattered everywhere from the exit wound at the back of his head. Rupert, a hole right through his head, dropped and bled onto his good pants.

"Damn it, Joker, why do you always have to make it so messy when you kill them?" another man yelled, walking in the room. He was dressed in the same uniform, but it was white where the other was black. He had short, blue hair and a long scar across his face and a staff on his back.

"Sorry, I forgot myself for a minute there, Cyril," Joker said, putting the black revolver back into his coat.

Cyril sighed and lifted his boot off one of the flesh fragments on the floor. "So this wasn't him?" he asked, wiping the bottom on the wall.

"No, this was just unredeemable swine. The real Angel of Death would never be so callow in the presence of death," Joker replied, licking blood off the hand he held the gun in.

"So that's why it's so messy, you used Damnation. Why, oh why do you always do that?" Cyril asked, rolling his eyes.

"Only fitting of myself, right, Cyril?" Joker said with a chuckle. He started to walk out the door.

"The Angel of Destruction is not one meant to bring upon brutal death and justify it. Only the Angel of Death may properly decide that," Cyril explained, following him out.

"You and Lazarus' idle banter. When we find the real Angel of Death, then we won't have to rely on such sinful acts anymore. I'm sure God can allow a few such executions if it means finding our brethren," Joker replied.

"I pray you are right, Joker. I pray with all my soul that you are," Cyril replied.

The Entropy slammed against the inside of the hangar. The starboard side scraped against the side of the hangar door hard and sparks flew everywhere. Miryhn stumbled and slipped to the floor of the shower, landing hard on his tailbone. He whelped and rolled to his side, rubbing his now throbbing rear end. He got to his feet quickly and shut off the water, throwing open the shower door and grabbing a towel. Wrapping it around his waist as he walked out of the bathroom throwing open the door to the bridge, cursing under his breath and looked up to see Jim clumsily operating the controls.

"Captain, what the hell are you doing? I said I'd dock us as soon as I got out of the shower!" Miryhn yelled.

"You take too long! Gotta wash every single strand of your girly hair?" Jim joked.

Miryhn grumbled and climbed up the control platform stairs. He shoved Jim aside a little, bent over, and grabbed the controls. With careful precision and small adjustments, he straightened the course and guided the ship towards the docking clamp, pulling it to a stop before the clamp grabbed the ship. He stood up, waved his hands triumphantly, and walked back down the stairs.

"Was that so hard? Your shower could have waited," Jim said, stepping down the stairs.

Miryhn rolled his eyes and left the bridge.

"You're dripping everywhere, remember to mop it up!" Jim quickly yelled before the door shut.

Jim sighed and walked to his seat. He sat, slumped down, and reached for his lighter. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack near his ashtray and lit up, breathing a deep puff of smoke and sighing it out in content. "Went from half-assed salvagers to merc's overnight. My little nest egg business is growing," he said, smiling.

Vera walked in and plopped into her seat on the other side of the room. She pushed her bangs off her forehead and sighed, staring at the ground.

Jim looked over and took his cigarette off his lips to dab the ash off. "Problem?" he asked innocently.

"Captain, I'm still adjusting to all this. You expect me and Miryhn to just instantly know how to do this? We're salvagers and that's all we've been doing since we joined this ship," Vera explained.

"Naw, you'll be fine. You're an ex-cop, you got Academy skills and all that Special Forces shit, right? And Miryhn, I'm sure with the super moves he was pulling in that Mesa-Spoon thing or whatever he'll do fine," Jim said, puffing at his cigarette again.

"I guess, if you put it that way," Vera said, unassured.

"Look, if you guys can't handle it I'll drop the ball and tell Contraus 'no, thanks', ok? No use wasting time and money if you two can't take the heat," Jim said, finishing his cigarette and rubbing it out in the ashtray.

"Thanks, captain. I'll try, though, 'cuz I know this means a lot of money for us if we can get it done," Vera said, smiling weakly.

"Just do your best and I'll be satisfied, alright? We'll be fine for a long time on Contraus' first payment," Jim said, staring upwards.

"Speaking of that, where's our personal cuts?" Miryhn said, walking in the bridge. His hair was up in a towel-turban, his normal clothes on but he left the shirt open.

"You get your damn cut when you do the damn work!" Jim said firmly, lighting up again.

"Great, just great. Just when I need more conditioner too," Miryhn said, leaning on the railing below the controls platform.

"Contraus said to go look for the Frame delivered to some chump named Rupert Longbottom recently from Mars. Find out where and who he got it from, that's all you have to do. As long as you do that, we'd get paid the rest of the cash. However, if you take out Longbottom, Contraus said he'd still pay us just for 'good samaritan points' and all that shit. Says he doesn't want a dangerous Frame in the hands of a syndicate flunky. However, we'll get a ton of cash if you can get the info out of him," Jim said, pointing to Miryhn.

"As good as done. Vera, let's go hit the streets," Miryhn said, yanking the towel off his head. He pulled a hair band out of his pocket and quickly ponytailed the back, leaving his bangs down as normal.

"Yeah, yeah," Vera mumbled, standing up.

"Check with a bar uptown called 'The Happy Weasel'. Contraus said that's one of Longbottom's favorite places to go. Also, grab the pieces I left out for 'ya. I got 'em from my private stash," Jim explained. "Good luck. Call if you have any serious trouble and be back by nine," Jim said to both of them as they started walking out the door. He lowered his hat over his eyes and slumping into the chair further.

"'Pieces' from your 'private stash'?" Miryhn stopped to ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Remember the Red Rose and how we screwed up and brought twenty cases of guns in? I kept one of the crates," Jim said, lifting up his cap and winking.

"Why?" Vera asked, poking her head through the doorway.

"Just in case," Jim said, laughing.

"I won't ask. He's the captain, after all," Miryhn replied, walking out.

Both stopped by their rooms. Miryhn grabbed his transmitter, sunglasses, and handgun leftover from Ester. Vera only grabbed her transmitter. They met back in the hallway and left for the cargo hold. As they turned the corner for the door to the hold, Nash stood there with laptop in hand.

"I sure as hell hope you two aren't leaving without me," Nash said, smiling.

"Well, that was kind of the plan. See, we're the one with, not only Frames, but any remote skills in kicking some sort of ass," Miryhn said sarcastically while buttoning up his shirt, leaving the top one and collar open as usual.

"You leave and Jim's gonna spend all day ordering me to fix things that aren't broken! I gotta go or I'll go insane here!" Nash pleaded.

Miryhn looked at Vera and shook his head slowly.

"Have a heart, Miryhn. All he has to do is stay out of our way, alright?" Vera said, looking from Miryhn back to Nash, who was digging in his ear with his finger and not paying attention.

"It's not that, it's just that he's kinda..." Miryhn said, thinking for a moment.

"Obnoxious?" Vera asked him, looking back at him.

"I was going to say 'annoying', but that works too," Miryhn said, smiling.

"Look, it's just this once. He might come in handy," Vera replied.

"For what? Taking pictures and talking to the laptop?" Miryhn said, raising his voice a bit.

"What are you two going on about over there?" Nash said, putting a hand on his hip.

"Nothing. Just come and don't get in the way!" Vera said, smiling and walking away from Miryhn and past Nash out the door.

"There goes any of my input. Peh, women," Miryhn said, strolling past Nash and following Vera.

"Got a metaphorical kick to the sack, Miryhn?" Nash said, following Miryhn out the door.

"Shuttup," Miryhn replied.

"Annallee, I'm afraid to report that Joker said Rupert wasn't the one. So far the six potential ones on this colony have proven to be nothing more than mere men," Cyril said, looking at a red-haired woman. Her uniform was the same female-issue as Sylfa's, but her red hair was totally let down, flowing to her mid-thigh. She folded her arms and sighed.

"At this rate, it seems we might fail. If we don't find the Angel of Death soon, then the Order will never be complete and then we're all doomed when God unleashes his wrath on the sinners. Don't make me repeat Lazarus' visions," Annallee replied in a serious tone.

"I wouldn't worry. I'll know him when I meet him," Joker said, jerking his thumb at himself.

"I truly pray that you will, Joker. The Almighty will not be pleased if us, his most devout in worship and servitude, fail," Annallee said, putting her hands together and bowing her head.

"Just go tell Sylfa our news and we'll finish with the last one here. I'm beginning to loathe this colony," Cyril said, folding his arms.

"Then I wish you the best. May our Lord shine his blessing upon you," Annallee said, putting an arm on Cyril's shoulder.

"Thank you, I pray thee safe passage back to Pandemonium," Cyril replied.

Annallee nodded and left the old building.

"Our work is certainly cut out for us," Joker commented.

"It has to be, we were destined for this. Let's get a move on, the last candidate is in position," Cyril commanded and started out the door.

Miryhn folded his arms on the counter top of "The Happy Weasel" bar and put his head on his forearms. Two seats down to his left, Vera was begging the bartender for information about Rupert. Strangely indifferent, three other bar patrons sat quietly at each of the extreme ends of the bar.

"Look, he comes in here and buys exactly four beers everyday. Drinks them and heads out the door. I know nothing more about it," the bartender explained to Vera.

"She's never going to get anything out of that guy. He's obviously in on Longbottom's smuggling rings. He thinks we're the cops," Nash said from the seat to the right beside Miryhn. Nash then reached into the peanut bowl and dropped the handful into his mouth.

"What makes you say that?" Miryhn said, opening an eye.

"Just look at the lock on door number one!" Nash said in between chews, pointing to the door at the back of the bar.

Miryhn sat up and peeked over his shoulder. The door in the back of the bar had a total of six locks on it.

"See what I mean? He's in on it," Nash said, scooping up more peanuts.

Miryhn sighed and looked down at Vera arguing with the bartender about how honest he was being. He shook his head and grabbed a nearby empty mug. He held up the mug and knocked on the bar, shaking the mug gently in midair.

The bartender looked over and then back at Vera. "Excuse me, I have a paying customer here to serve and not a pushy little lady to argue with," the bartender quipped before walking down the bar toward Miryhn. "What'll you have?" the bartender asked, taking the mug from him.

"Just beer, sir," Miryhn said, smiling.

The bartender walked down the bar to the beer fountains and filled up the mug. He walked back and slowly handed it to Miryhn.

Miryhn grabbed the mug with one hand and reached forward and grabbed the bartender's wrist with the other. Tossing the mug aside, he pulled the bartender hard, sending him over the bar and onto the floor. Miryhn twisted his arm behind his back and dug his handgun out of his belt from under his shirt. He pressed it into the back of the bartender's skull and smiled. The other three guys in the bar all jumped up and fled.

"Woah, woah! If you want money, go ahead! I think there's thirty in the register!" the bartender pleaded.

"Answer the lady's question," Miryhn ordered.

"Miryhn, have you lost it?" Vera said, leaping off her barstool.

Nash looked down at Miryhn and the bartender, continuing to snack on peanuts.

"Just let me handle this, ok? Answer the lady's question!" Miryhn ordered again.

"I don't know anything except when he comes in and when he leaves, honest!" the bartender muttered.

"You're lying!" Miryhn shouted and aimed the gun at a sconce on the wall. He shot it twice, once shattering the glass and the second shooting the bulb out, making it spark and fizzle.

"No, I seriously don't know!" the bartender muttered again.

"Don't lie to me, man. I'm serious!" Miryhn said firmly. He reached over the bar and fired three times. Two shots shattered a bottle of brandy and a bottle of scotch and the third shattering the mirror behind the bar.

"Are you insane? I told you, I don't know!" the bartender pleaded.

"I'm gonna keep fucking up your bar unless you just answer the question. Tell us where Rupert Longbottom is and I'll stop, ok? Otherwise, your ming vase over there is next!" Miryhn said, jerking the gun in the direction of an antique vase in the corner.

"No! Not that! That was my grandmother's ashes!" the bartender pleaded, trying to reach for Miryhn's arm.

"Then answer the lady's question!" Miryhn said, raising his voice.

"I...I can't, I'll get killed if I tell anyone!" the bartender said, petrified with fear.

"I'll kill you now if you don't tell me!" Miryhn shouted, jamming the end of the gun on the bartender's forehead.

"Miryhn! Stop it!" Vera shouted.

"Dude, chill out," Nash said in between chews.

"Didn't I say let me handle this?" Miryhn said, looking up at them briefly. "One more time, answer the lady's question. Where is Rupert Longbottom?"

"I can't tell anyone!" the bartender pleaded.

Miryhn sneered and aimed at the vase again. He fired twice and the bartender cried out in fear. Both shots missed completely.

"I'll shoot grandma's ashes all over this damn bar, I will, you bet!" Miryhn said, staring at the bartender.

"Fine, fine! Two guys, one in a white monkey-suit and another in a black version of the outfit, barged in here last night when Rupert was getting sloshed. They drag him out, kicking and screaming and that's all I saw, I swear! The on in white said if I told anyone they'd come back and kill me!" the bartender confessed.

Miryhn rolled his eyes and shoved the gun back onto his belt. He stood up, pushing the bartender's head into a barstool. "Was that so really hard? Geez, could have saved yourself a sconce, two bottles of brew, and a mirror if you had just said so in the first place. Man, don't you feel like a total dick now?" he said, shrugging.

"Crude, yet effective," Vera commented, stepping towards Miryhn.

"Yeah, real nice work, man," Nash said, mouthful of peanuts.

"Let's go," Miryhn said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and strolling out the door.

"Sorry about the trouble, he's normally not that deranged," Vera said, smiling at the bartender before jogging out.

"Thanks for the peanuts," Nash said, grabbing one more handful.

The bartender watched all three leave, sighed, and muttered,"What a bunch of weirdos."

Upon questioning a few of the residents on the street, Vera found out that they saw two men dragging a man two blocks down towards an abandoned apartment building. The three went inside the rusted gate of the building and approached slowly.

Miryhn put on his sunglasses and took out his handgun. He held it with both his hands and walked up to the door.

"Holes where nails use to be. Discoloring of the paint, yep, this place use to be boarded shut," Vera commented.

"I'll go in first. Stay behind," Miryhn said, readying himself to kick the door open. He stepped back a few steps, ran forward, and booted the door open. He lunged inside, aiming in each direction. He stepped over some debris and walked inside slowly and carefully.

The foyer was silent and dusty. Tiles were missing or cracked in the floor; year-old, yellow-colored mail sitting in the mailboxes along the wall. On the bulletin board was a sign warning of foreclosure and a notice telling all residents to cancel their leases and move out. The wallpaper was peeling or otherwise removed entirely. Ahead of him was a spiraling steel staircase leading up to the next floor.

Miryhn nodded to the others and hurried towards the stairs. He climbed them quickly, aiming up and around at the platform the staircase connected to. He stepped onto the platform and continued to the door at the end of it. Vera and Nash jogged up behind him.

"Enough commando shit, let's just run in and run out!" Nash whined, panting.

"Look, dumb fuck, behind this door we either have two guys with knives, two guys with guns, two guys with machine guns, or Rupert Longbottom by himself. Would you rather be safe about it if the sooner three choices are what's going on or would you rather risk getting your ass shot to hell if the latter choice isn't what's going on?" Miryhn explained angrily.

"Don't mind him, he's just not use to this," Vera said, rolling her eyes and smacking Nash over the head.

Nash shot Vera an angry look.

"That's it, we're all gonna die," Miryhn said, sighing.

"Just open the door and let's go find him. To hell with whether or not the guys who nabbed him are here," Vera said, taking out Jim's provided handgun from the back of her belt. "Come on, I'll cover you."

Miryhn nodded and readied himself. With another hard kick, the door fell inward and to the floor. Miryhn grinned, looking over his shoulder at Vera and Nash. "Solid," he said with a thumbs up.

"Shuttup, the hinges were rusty, that's all," Vera said, unimpressed. She pointed to the hinges which had come out of the wall entirely.

"Killjoy," Miryhn quipped, turning and walking in the doorway.

The three walked slowly into the hallway of the second floor. Miryhn pointed for Vera to check each of the right side doorways as he went along the left. Nash panicked and followed closely behind Miryhn when the two split. Each walked along the wall, aiming their gun inside the doorway as they passed it. They went down the hall checking each doorway.

Suddenly, Vera gasped and ran inside the doorway she was currently in. Miryhn and Nash turned and followed upon seeing her run inside.

The apartment was completely boarded up except the doorway. Each window was boarded up with black tarp hanging over it. All the doors except one bedroom door were boarded up. The floor, however, was amazingly clean and free of the assorted debris found outside and around the building.

"I guess this is our first sign of previous entry. Guess we take what's behind door number one," Miryhn joked, looking at the closed bedroom door.

"Go ahead, you're spearheading this whole thing!" Vera said, backing away from the door.

"Yeah, you go ahead on in and get shot first. We'll run like hell," Nash said, chuckling.

"Shuttup," Miryhn said, giving Nash a stern look. Miryhn reached forward and whipped the door open. He charged inside, pointing his gun in random directions. The room, however, was pitch dark. "Lights, please," Miryhn asked with a sigh.

"And he said, let there be light!" Vera said, reaching in and hitting the light switch.

Just as the lights came on, the three looked at the chair in the middle of the room. Vera screamed, Nash vomited, and Miryhn sloped his brow. Rupert sat there, a hole through his head with blood and gore all over the floor.

"I guess this was our man," Miryhn said, poking Rupert's head with his gun.

"Don't touch him, who knows how long he's been like this!" Vera said, horrified.

Miryhn looked down and pulled his foot up. Some flesh was stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "Not long, I'd say," he commented.

"Well, I guess this means we get payed anyways. No way to know where the Frame is now and no one to operate it now," Nash said, keeping a hand in front of himself to block Rupert's corpse from his sight.

"Jim will be pissed, though, seeing as we won't get the full payment," Miryhn chimed in.

"Yeah, let's just go," Vera said with a sigh as she walked out of the room.

Miryhn walked around to the front of Rupert and tilted his head forward. He examined the hole closely and then looked behind his head at the floor behind them.

"What are you doing?" Nash asked, impatient.

"This had to have been done with a high powered round. Just look at how much of his brains were blown out," Miryhn explained, squatting around the area of all the gore.

"Who cares? Let's just go," Nash whined.

"And to deepen the mystery, why isn't there a shell from the fired round around here? And if it went through his head entirely, why isn't there a bullet on the ground back here?" Miryhn inquired, looking around closely,"It just doesn't make sense."

"Miryhn, quit being a detective. That's not what we're being payed for, let's just go!" Vera said, leaning in the doorway.

Miryhn sighed and stood up. "Yeah, no use being too concerned. Let's just go," he said, walking out.

The three left the bedroom and started down the hallway. Suddenly, footsteps were heard coming up the metal stairs and platform. Vera stopped and threw an arm in front of Miryhn and Nash to stop them.

"I told you this guy would be easier," one voice said.

"I never said he'd be more difficult to catch, I'm just saying he's probably going to be a pain in the ass to interrogate," another replied.

"Oh, yeah right, whatever," the other replied.

"Great, they're back," Nash whined, glancing around for a quick escape route.

"Wait, they might know where Rupert's Frame was. If we find it, then we'll probably get the compensation anyways!" Miryhn said, smiling greedily.

"Yeah, and that means a bigger personal cut, you know, Nash," Vera chimed in, patting Nash's shoulder.

"So how are we going to do that?" Nash asked worriedly.

"Everyone get in a doorway. Shoot when you see 'em. Aim to disable, no kills," Miryhn commanded, dashing inside one of the doorways.

Vera nodded and took the doorway parallel to it on the other side of the hallway.

Nash shivered nervously and dived into another doorway, fumbling around his waist for his gun. He pulled it out and stood mimicking Miryhn and Vera's stance.

"I'm just saying that sooner or later things aren't going to be quite the same. I guess your portfolio is alright right now, but soon you might want to re-invest in-" Cyril said, walking through the kicked-down doorway.

"Wait, the door has been knocked down. Someone's here," Joker said, grabbing Cyril's shoulder to stop him.

"Naw, this place is falling apart, it probably just fell off with a breeze," Cyril said, looking at the door on the floor skeptically.

Miryhn looked across at Vera and nodded. Both leaned out a little and started firing around the two men.

Joker clenched his teeth and threw Cyril to the ground at the same time he dropped his prey's body before ducking himself.

Miryhn and Vera both emptied their clips and rounded back behind into the doorways to reload.

"Alright, who are you? U.N.S.F.? Spec Ops? Earth Intelligence? Mars Intelligence? Hitmen after Rupert Longbottom? Or are you just stupid thrill-seekers?" Joker joked, lifting his head up from the floor.

"Other," Miryhn joked in response.

Vera sneered at Miryhn and waved her hand up and down, signifying to shut up.

"'Other', eh? Well we can't have that now, can we? I mean, people of questionable integrity invading my humble abode and assaulting me isn't very nice, now is it?" Joker said, slowly climbing to his feet.

Miryhn pulled the top of his gun, finishing reloading it. He whipped around the corner again and opened fire on the man in black, who was now on his feet.

Joker squinted his eyes and smiled. In his mind's eye, he could imagine seeing the bullets as they streaked through the air in a relatively slow speed. With as much grace as possible, he easily dodged each shot, even if they were aimed at his extremities. From everyone else's witness, he moved with inhuman agility in the blink of an eye, the bullets each smashing through the wall behind him.

Vera watched this and dropped her jaw. Nash's eyes widened. Miryhn shuddered and whipped back around the corner of the doorway. He took a few deep breaths and shivered. His skin crawled with goosebumps.

Joker belted out in loud laughter. "My, my, in the presence of such superior beings, all you humans can do is cower in fear. I love this," he said, giggling.

"Would you quit putting on a show and just get rid of them already?" Cyril commanded, aggravated.

"You're no fun, you know? I mean, what's the point of having such abilities if I can't flaunt them once in a while?" Joker replied, glancing down at Cyril.

"Flaunt this!" Vera screamed, leaning out again, firing at Cyril this time.

Cyril raised an eyebrow and with the same inhuman agility, he yanked the staff off his back and entered the same slowed state of reality. With careful precision, he blocked and deflected each bullet with the staff. When finished, he twirled it above his head triumphantly.

"Now who's the show-off?" Joker said, rolling his eyes.

Vera whelped and quickly leaned back into the doorway. She shivered with the same piercing fear running over her skin as Miryhn.

"What in the fuck are these people?" Nash screamed, almost to tears with fear.

"Ah, I see that our immortality strikes fear into the hearts of the mortals. Never fear, we shall grant you each a glorious and merciful death," Joker said, laughing happily.

"Thought God said 'thou shall not kill'?" Miryhn joked, trying to suppress his fears.

"God has granted us the divine right to judge such until our true brethren of that rite has been brought back to grace," Cyril explained. "However, I shall grant you people one and only one chance. If one of you can defeat me, then I shall let you go," Cyril added.

"You're bull shitting. How can we trust that kind of offer?" Vera asked, checking her clip.

"Simple, we're the only thing standing between you and freedom," Cyril said, pointing to the door.

"He has a point," Miryhn said to Vera from across the hall, shrugging.

"Shit," Vera said under her breath. She glanced into the apartment she was standing in and saw a long PVC pipe running along the wall. She shot off each of the clamps and shuffled over to it. She carefully gripped it and stuffed the gun into the back of her belt. With both hands, she yanked it out of the pipe line it was connected into and stood up with it. She ran out the doorway and stood in the hallway, wielding the pipe like a staff. "I'll take you on!" she shouted.

"Vera, you moron! What do you think you're doing?" Miryhn said, teeth gritted.

"Where guns fail, you gotta rely on your other skills, don't you agree? I got some training in stuff of all sorts while in the Special Forces," Vera said, biting her lip.

Miryhn opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and shook his head. "Alright, fine, good luck. I'll cover your back," he said, raising his gun and gripping it with both hands.

Vera nodded at Miryhn and looked at Cyril firmly.

"Are you ready to begin?" Cyril said, raising his staff.

Vera smiled and nodded.

"So be it. May my divine blessing be yours as well," Cyril said, smiling back.

"Eh, excuse me. I'll just be in the way here," Joker interrupted, picking up the unconscious man's body. He walked by Vera and continued, going up the staircase at the end of the hallway.

Miryhn narrowed his eyes as he watched Joker pass. He glanced carefully at the man he was carrying. A surprised look drew on his face and he dashed off after Joker up the staircase.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Nash yelled at him.

"Cover Vera, I'll be right back!" Miryhn said, bolting up the stairs, two at a time.

Nash groaned and raised his gun, making a serious look on his face.

Joker stopped on the roof and dropped the man on a large metal section of ductwork. He sighed heavily and wiped his brow. "Damn, what a heavy motha' this guy is," he said, laughing lightly.

There was a click of a gun being raised a few feet behind him, near the door to the stairs. Miryhn stood there, gun raised and aimed at him.

Joker whipped around and stepped forward a step. Miryhn took no hesitation in firing. Joker flawlessly dodged it, his body reacting with the same inhuman agility as before.

"You don't give up, do you?" Joker asked, laughing.

"I only know one other person that could do that and he's dead as a doornail," Miryhn said, not moving.

Joker raised an eyebrow, now curious. "You're trying to tell me that there's another man with the same abilities as myself and I haven't heard of nor met him by now?" Joker asked, grinning.

Miryhn sighed. "Look, that man bled just like every other man. There was nothing special about him and he died just as you can," Miryhn explained, sneering.

Joker belted out a maniacal laugh. "I see what you're trying to tell me, so stop bull shitting. There's no way you could have met another like me and lived through it. You're just trying to be intimidating, pig!"

"Damn, you saw through my ruse. But honestly, I really witnessed this man's death," Miryhn said, still not moving. "The only reason I followed you is because of the man you have there," he added, pointing to the man slumped over the ductwork behind them. "That's Vernon Laysuite, a former tactician in TEMPEST along with a Frame test pilot. And at that, Rupert Longbottom was an ex-Frame developer, kicked off the R-D division for a design flaw, and member of the 3rd Quick Strike division. Why you'd be after such men of such integrity, I have no idea really and don't really care."

Joker's eyes widened. "You were in TEMPEST, weren't you? Just who are you, anyways?" he demanded.

"I wasn't anything special, just an errand-boy. I kept my ear to the ground a lot and I got all the information on people from the higher-ups I met while doing my business," Miryhn explained, smiling.

"I don't believe you. These men were in positions a mailroom boy couldn't access. You had to have been some sort of important shit yourself! Tell me what you know about the Manna of Heaven project!" Joker yelled with greater demand.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Miryhn asked, completely puzzled.

Joker laughed and took out his black revolver. "Perhaps you weren't, then. I hope that means you still remember your basic training, right? Let me see if you still have 'the skills', pig," Joker said, laughing.

"Oh, is this a challenge? I guess this is what I get for nosing around up here where I don't belong, eh?" Miryhn said, still smiling.

Both aimed, fired at the other, and both leapt to their left. Miryhn leaping behind a brick flowerbed and Joker behind a tall air conditioning unit. Miryhn quickly got to his feet and kept crouched behind the flowerbed. Joker got up and scrambled across the roof towards the flowerbed. Just as he turned to aim his gun at Miryhn, Miryhn swung his foot around the corner hard, connecting to the side of Joker's head. Miryhn spun around the corner punched Joker in the face. He pulled another two punches at Joker's jaw before Joker leapt backwards, doing a somersault and landing with gun drawn. Miryhn pulled his handgun back from his belt and fired twice quickly before sidestepping to the right. He turned and kept running at an angle of Joker, finding the remains of an old greenhouse at the far end of the rooftop. Behind him, Joker opened fire, so Miryhn ducked as he ran and headed inside the greenhouse. Each of the shots fired at him struck nearby objects with incredible force, one sending a paint can flying off into the distance, another completely shattering a plastic skylight, and the last two putting holes in nearby brick flowerbeds that went all the way through and through the roof.

Inside, Miryhn only found dead foliage. A few short, dying trees canopied the roof. Pots as well as flower beds full of dead and rotting plants scattered the floor. Miryhn heard Joker running across the rooftop towards the greenhouse and took off towards one of the trees, struggling to climb it.

Joker barged into the greenhouse, gun aimed forward. He scanned the area carefully for Miryhn. Keeping his aim up, he walked slowly and carefully inward.

"This is ludicrous, swine. You're of no use to me alive, so come and embrace death!" Joker said, smirking.

Dead silence was all Joker got in return. He continued to walk slowly in, ducking a branch.

"You're failing the test, little piggy. A man who so gladly faces death is either insane or the most sensible human being alive," Joker said, still scanning the area carefully and aiming in his line of sight.

Miryhn, hanging by his legs to the branch, flipped down from the tree branch Joker just ducked and fired three times. The first two shots struck Joker in the back and the right arm, the third missing entirely. "Or he's sure he'll win!" Miryhn quipped as Joker lunged to his knees. Miryhn kept pulling the trigger, but the clip had run out. Joker growled and turned around, aiming and firing twice. Miryhn flipped back up into the tree without getting hit and leapt out after Joker stopped firing, dashing over a flowerbed and diving out one of the glass panels.

"Out of bullets, eh? Guess I'll play fair," Joker said, ignoring the pain and stuffing his revolver back into his coat pocket.

Miryhn climbed to his feet, glass shards in his forearms and hands. He hobbled as fast as he could for the door to the stairs, pulling what shards he could out and tossing them into the distance. Suddenly, as he caught sight of the door, Joker jumped in front of it, his fists raised.

"Oh, come on! You can't aim for shit, you walk into obvious traps, you never looked up, and then you couldn't even aim at a moving target as I leapt out the window. Dude, give it up, you suck!" Miryhn pleaded, gripping his lightly bleeding right arm with his bleeding left arm.

"I've been going easy on you, 'errand boy'. I still don't believe you were just some regular shmoe in TEMPEST. You're showing just a bit more skill than normal troops," Joker said, making a martial arts stance.

"So, what you wanna go hand-to-hand now?" Miryhn asked, aggravated.

"Exactly!" Joker said, laughing.

Miryhn sighed and rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine!" he yelled, raising his fists.

Both ran at each other and Miryhn landed the first punch into Joker's stomach. Joker stepped back a little and threw a roundhouse kick. Miryhn ducked this and countered with a kick to Joker's jaw. Joker staggered back and Miryhn stepped up and punched him twice in the face and once again in the stomach. Joker threw an uppercut, knocking Miryhn back a little and stepped forward to grab him by the neck. He slung Miryhn to the left and then back to the right, tossing him towards a brick flowerbed. Joker started a short run to ram him in between the brick and him, but Miryhn turned around and kicked Joker in the head in mid run as he neared Miryhn. Joker reeled back and wiped his lips of blood. Miryhn ran up and attempted a straight kick to Joker's head as he hunched over, but Joker grabbed his leg and held it. Miryhn saw the opportunity and leapt, spinning his body horizontally and kicking Joker in the head with the other leg. Joker let go and stepped back a few steps again. Miryhn fell to his back.

"Enough!" Joker yelled in anger, pulling his revolver out again and aiming it at Miryhn on the ground.

Miryhn panted heavily, out of breath. He picked his head up enough to see Joker aiming the gun and he grinned and laughed.

Joker grew more curious. This man dared to face him even after seeing the display of agility he possessed against lethal force, held his own against Joker's basic attacks, and was now heartily laughing in a position that could very well cost him his life. "I'll ask you again, 'errand boy', who are you?" Joker demanded, his voice now low and cold. He stepped on Miryhn's heaving chest, pointing the revolver at Miryhn's head.

Miryhn continued to laugh and pant, despite Joker being on his chest.

"Tell me, now! You can't hide it from me anymore!" Joker screamed, furious.

"I'm just...a concerned citizen, that's all," Miryhn said, smiling with all his teeth.

Joker growled again, his arm quivering in the partially ignored pain from the gunshot as well as anger. "You fool, your life is in my hands and yet you lay here, beaten, bruised, and bleeding, and just chuckle your head off?"

"Why should I be afraid of you killing me? You could have just done it countless times. Your shots go through brick and bam! You could have had me like three seconds into the fight. Now, you tell me, why don't you want to kill me, hmm? I must be worth something to you," Miryhn said, cocking his head to the side a little and grinning smugly.

Joker narrowed his eyes. "Take off your sunglasses," he commanded, his voice low and cold again.

"Now you're just being silly," Miryhn chuckled.

"Do it!" Joker screamed, his face wrenched with fury.

"No dice, compadre. Now that...is ludicrous," Miryhn said, waving his index finger at Joker.

Joker growled and bent over, grabbing Miryhn hard by his cheeks. Pinching the frames with his middle finger and thumb while gripping the revolver, he ripped Miryhn's sunglasses off, tossing them a foot aside.

Miryhn had his eyes closed, still grinning smugly.

"Open your eyes, swine!" Joker commanded, still gripping Miryhn's face by his cheeks.

Miryhn shook his head.

"Open them!" Joker screamed, now furious.

"I made a promise that I'd never see the death of another man in these eyes ever again. I intend to keep that promise until this fight is over and we've parted ways," Miryhn explained, his smile melting to a serious look.

"So you're a coward. Are those accessories are some kind of personal metaphor?" Joker asked, grinning now.

"You could say that. I just like them 'cuz they're blue and have nice, thin frames and-" Miryhn started to ramble, grinning smugly again.

"Silence!" Joker interrupted. "Open your eyes! There will be no death in this battle, I can assure you!"

Miryhn opened his eyes, his grin again melting to a serious look. "Did it, so what's the big deal?"

Joker stared deeply into Miryhn's eyes. His own suddenly widened and he threw Miryhn's head back to the rooftop. "I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" Joker shouted in celebration.

"You knew what?" Miryhn asked, rubbing his head.

"You're a liar and a bad one at that. I have a damn good idea who you are now and all I can say is that you are the worst liar I've ever met," Joker said, laughing maniacally. "And I'm afraid to tell you that lying is a sin in the eyes of God, pig. Prepare now to meet your maker and may God have pity on your soul," he continued, leaning back again and aiming the gun at Miryhn's head.

Miryhn sighed and closed his eyes. He laid completely still.

Joker raised an eyebrow. "What's this? Still not afraid of death? I got what I wanted and now you're of no use to me. Death has come for you," Joker explained, still smiling madly.

Miryhn didn't reply, but shivered. In his mind, fear was taking over. His bravery had run out and now he felt himself paralyzed with fear. He cringed hard and put his left hand on his face, his fingers squeezing hard.

"What are you doing?" Joker asked, puzzled.

In an instant, Miryhn's other hand snatched Joker's gun-holding hand and yanked him downwards hard. Joker folded over without notice and Miryhn punched him hard in the stomach with his left hand. The blow was so hard, Joker was knocked over and sent rolling once and a half. Miryhn shuddered and fumbled for his sunglasses. He snatched them up and jammed them on his face, climbing to his feet. He staggered around a moment and put a hand on a brick flowerbed to stabilize himself. He shook his head several times and stopped cringing. A smile drew on his face.

"Amazing what the body is capable of when put to emotional stress, eh?" Miryhn said, jokingly, as he glanced at Joker. Joker was rolling back and forth, his arms folded over his stomach.

"You, I know it now, it has to be you! Your life is meant for great things! A whole destiny lies before-" Joker started to banter. Miryhn interrupted him by kicking him hard in the stomach again. Joker wheezed and coughed up blood.

"Look, it was nice and all giving each other an ass-pounding, but you're just plain making no sense. You question my past, look at my eyes, and try to kill me. I just doesn't add up," Miryhn said with a shrug, looking over Joker's writhing body.

"It will make perfect sense, when you..." Joker started to say before coughing up some more blood,"when you finally unfurl your wings again."

Miryhn snickered before finally belting out an enjoyed laugh. "Now you're just talking bull shit. I think you took a few too many blows to the head," Miryhn said, smiling. He slowly gripped his right arm again and hobbled for the door.

"Wait, come back!" Joker pleaded, coughing up more blood.

"Next time, just don't go easy on me, ok?" Miryhn yelled before slamming the staircase door shut.

Joker sighed and coughed again. "Easily done, nephilim."

Before Miryhn and Joker even began fighting, Vera and Cyril had started their own duel.

Cyril lunged forward and swung horizontally. Vera stepped back and stepped forward to stab at him. Cyril easily sidestepped it and swung for her head. Vera ducked and charged forward. Both blocked with the middle of their weapons.

"Nice, I see you have the basics down," Cyril complimented, smiling.

"Thanks, I guess," Vera replied, staying serious.

Vera let go of the block and stepped back. Holding the end, she swung in a wide arc. Cyril leapt over this and held his staff out in full length. He held in front of his as he dropped, trying for an overhead hit. Vera caught sight of this at the end of her swing and fell to her back, giving her a split second more to bring her weapon back to her other hand and block. Cyril's staff landed on hers hard, causing a small crack to form in the pipe.

"Wouldn't that be a shame if your staff broke? Then you'd lose!" Cyril said, chuckling smugly.

Vera sneered and held the block for a moment or two. In on motion, she rocked her head to the side and pulled her weapon to the side. Cyril was caught off guard and his staff smashed through the floor next to her head. With her weapon free, she kicked Cyril in the stomach as hard as she could, making his feet leave the ground. She swung as hard as she could, the end of the pipe hitting his side and knocking him to the ground. Cyril rolled twice and laid against the wall a moment.

"Damn, what a fine warrioress you are!" Cyril complimented, smiling,"I'm almost in love with you!"

Vera rolled her eyes as she climbed to her feet. "Sorry, buddy, I don't think of this as a date."

"Ah, m'amour, this is only the beginning!" Cyril said, rolling around, gripping his side.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Vera said, showing off her ability to twirl her staff around on one hand before cradling it on her right hand against her body.

Suddenly, two shots came through the roof and hit the floor near to them, continuing through. Vera whelped and leapt back.

"Oh, I dunno, just a thought. I never imagined a human woman would be a fair match," Cyril said, finally getting up.

"Want more, eh? Your stupid little speed tricks won't work on me!" Vera boasted.

Cyril smiled and whipped his head around, making a loud cracking sound with his neck. He laughed and in the blink of an eye, he had swung his staff again, leapt forward, and slammed Vera hard in the side. Vera gasped and collapsed, holding in a scream of pain.

"I hate hitting women, I really do. I swear, I'm a gentleman!" Cyril chuckled, jabbing the staff hard into her back.

Vera whelped loudly and dragged her hand across the floor, reaching for Cyril's staff. Cyril laughed raised it again to stab her hard. Vera caught the opportunity and rolled to the side as he stabbed down, sending his staff through the floorboards. Vera threw her leg up and kicked Cyril in the side of the head. He grabbed the side of his head, struggling to get the staff out of the floor. Vera gripped her pipe and jabbed Cyril in the face as hard as she could, breaking his nose. Cyril screamed and stepped back, holding his nose.

"You...you broke my nose! You bitch! You aren't getting date out of me for damaging my unearthly beauty!" Cyril yelled angrily, making a nasal noise.

Vera crossed her legs and whipped them around, making enough force to get her whole body up in one motion. She growled and swung again, hitting Cyril in the head hard enough to send him to the ground again. "Who's a bitch?" she yelled, furious,"Don't ever call me a bitch!"

"Forgive me, really, I'm sorry!" Cyril pleaded, still plugging his nose while on the ground. "I'll give you a gift to make up for that! Take my staff, it's right there in the floor," he said, pointing with his other hand to the staff.

Vera shrugged and dropped the pipe. She stepped over to the staff and pulled it out with a hard yank. She tapped it in the palm of her hand a few times and a surprised look came to her face. "This thing is really damn light. Feels weird too," she commented.

"You deserve it if you can match me. I can always get another," Cyril said, writing in pain and almost losing consciousness.

Miryhn came running down the stairs and down the hall to Vera. "Guys, we're getting the hell out of here. I just had a rather traumatic experience," he said, looking around nervously.

"What? Did you take care of that dude upstairs?" Vera asked, rubbing her bruised side.

"Just go!" Miryhn commanded, shoving her down the hall.

Nash whipped around the corner of his doorway and laughed loudly. "So we're done here? Damn, I'm glad, I was getting sick of covering for Vera that long!"

"You didn't do shit! You just stood there and pissed yourself while I did all the work!" Vera snapped, turning from the shove.

"Guys! Out! Now!" Miryhn commanded.

"He...does tend to have a traumatic effect on people, doesn't he?" Cyril laughed, rolling over onto his back.

"Who?" Nash asked, walking by Cyril and continuing towards the door.

"My comrade, doesn't he?" Cyril replied, his chuckle wearing off.

"Guys, go!" Miryhn said firmly, pointing to the door.

Vera shrugged and grabbed Nash's wrist, running out the doorway for the metal staircase. As Vera reached the end, she noticed Miryhn didn't follow.

"Nash, wait here," Vera said, turning and scuffling back up the stairs quietly.

"Huh? What's the problem?" Nash replied, looking up and watching her go up.

Vera ignored Nash and came to the top. She knelt on the stairs and laid flat, listening carefully.

"Care to clarify what 'unfurling' my 'wings' meant? I mean, what exactly is that guy's problem?" Vera heard Miryhn ask Cyril.

"You should know. He only mentions that in the presence of us...and those he believes to be like us," Cyril replied smugly.

Miryhn growled and kicked Cyril hard in the throat. He shook his head and took off his sunglasses, rubbing the temples of his eyes and put the sunglasses back in his shirt pocket. Still shaking his head, Miryhn started for the staircase. Vera heard him mumble something to himself as he started walking. He was mumbling,"It won't happen anymore...I won't let it...I won't let it happen anymore..." once or twice. As he got within eyeshot, Vera panicked and leapt up, scuffling back down the staircase. Miryhn came behind her, luckily, far enough not to notice her. He reached the bottom of the stairs his eyes half open.

All three stared at each other before Nash finally spoke up,"Ready to go, I assume?"

"Yeah, yeah...let's go," Miryhn said quietly and turned to leave.

Vera nodded in agreement. She looked at Miryhn's face as he turned. He opened his eyes and Vera saw that they were very bloodshot. She opened her mouth to ask, but remembered that Miryhn is always tight-lipped about things outside of business and casual bull shit.

All three left the building without a word spoken.

Joker walked into The Chapel, what Lazarus had named the large space in the old ship he painted in, and kneeled at the altar. After reciting a short prayer, he stood and approached the cloaked man. Lazarus didn't react, but continued to paint onto his enormous mural.

"Welcome back to Purgatory, cherub. How goes your search for the last Seraph?" Lazarus asked in his usual raspy, emotionless voice.

"The six were rejects. But the unexpected seventh was perfect," Joker replied, grinning.

Lazarus dropped his paint tray and brush. The echo of the items hitting the floor resounded for a moment and Lazarus turned on his heel and rushed up to Joker. "You tell no lie, do you, cherub?" he demanded.

"I swear on our Father and Almighty. I have indeed found him. The missing Seraph, the Angel of Death!" Joker said, excitedly.

Lazarus shuddered and stepped back. His hands quivered and Joker could tell a wide grin was forming on the old man's face under the darkness of his cloak. Lazarus threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"Then he must be put to the test, right, sir?" a voice asked from the doorway.

Joker turned around to see a pale man with the same uniform as Cyril in the doorway. However, he had gauntlets on that extended from his wrists to his elbow with silky white gloves going into them. The gauntlets were white with gold embroidery like the coat. He shoved his shoulder-length pitch black hair off a shoulder and behind his back. His countenance was stone-faced.

"Trent, why do you always just...appear like that?" Joker asked with a puzzled look.

"Because, Joker, just as you are the Angel of Destruction, I was meant to rule the realm of Darkness. And as you can see, this chapel is horribly not well-lit," Trent replied, folding his arms elegantly and walking in. He spoke with an air of arrogance and monotone, with bit of a noble accent.

"You're just one big walking corny motif, aren't you? Angel of Darkness with the hair to match, what a joke," Joker teased.

"I'd rather align with my position than mock it the way you do," Trent replied with the same monotone.

"Why I outta..." Joker replied, narrowing his eyes.

Trent flicked his wrists and the handles of two jagged gold daggers arrived in his hands from his gauntlets. Joker raised his fists.

"I will not tolerate any in-fighting in this Order. Both you of you cease this folly," Lazarus interrupted sternly.

Joker dropped his fists. Trent flicked his wrists again and the daggers disappeared into his gauntlets.

"Fool, you know you couldn't ever face me without your little...butter knife," Trent scoffed. He looked at Lazarus and bowed, then turned and left.

Joker sneered and gave Trent the finger as he left.

"He's right, though. I trust your judgement, but I shall put him to a test, cherub. Explain to me what he looks like, I'll seek him out myself and with God's own decision, I shall judge his worth," Lazarus explained, opening his hand from outside the cloak. A fan of shining silver knives with small cross-shaped handles glimmered in the dim light. He held each in between each of his fingers.

"You're going to try and kill him?" Joker asked, folding his arms. "You know you'll do him in."

"It's the only way. If he's an angel that's lost his wings, then he's become a demon among men. If he is a demon, then I shall execute him in the name of his Holiness himself. Otherwise, I shall watch as his wings unfurl anew and bring out God's judgement," Lazarus said, pulling his hand back in his cloak.

"I doubt he's lost them, sir. He showed definite potential. I fear his divinity is still more pristine than I judged, though," Joker replied.

"That is not for you to tell. God himself will judge and I'll be his hand," Lazarus replied, walking to his altar and kneeling for a brief prayer.

"I'll give you the details then," Joker said, bowing.

"Excellent, we'll settle this matter and continue the will of his Almighty as soon as possible," Lazarus replied, putting his hands together and bowing his head to the altar one more time.

Miryhn laid on the couch in the lounge, snoozing. Vera swung her new staff around on the other side of the room, practicing. Nash sat in a chair carefully filing his nails and glancing at the TV on occasion. Jim puffed on a cigar while reading a novel.

Vera stopped and sat down, grabbing her bottle of sports drink. He chugged down a few gulps and gasped in refreshment.

"Damn, that new berry shit is good!" Vera said, smiling.

The three men continued, not replying.

Vera frowned and crossed her legs, resting the staff over the arms of the chair. She rotated it a little and noticed small writing engraved on it in gold.

"Hey, does anyone know what 'Cast in the name of God - Ye Not Guilty' means?" Vera asked, reading the type carefully.

Miryhn rolled over. Nash blew on his right hand. Jim turned a page.

"Well, anybody?" Vera asked, now more demanding.

"It means shut up, I'm trying to nap," Miryhn replied, talking into a pillow.

"Means why the fuck did you take that thing from those weirdos anyways? You're lucky Rupert's recent death still got us some cash. Now Contraus is pissed 'cuz he has to go look for the damn Frame himself. Plus, I'm about to toss that thing out into absolute zero unless you quit swinging it around the glass panel surrounded lounge!" Jim said, sternly.

Nash rubbed his chin and repeated the phrase to himself a few times under his breath. "I have no idea. But keep it in mind, just in case. I have a feeling those guys have big plans that we just screwed up today. I have a bad feeling me got mixed in some serious shit," Nash chimed in.

Miryhn moaned and pulled a pillow over his head.

"Of course, it could just mean some religious reference that they are affiliated with, I mean-" Nash continued to ramble on.

Miryhn sighed and rolled off the couch. He climbed to his feet and shuffled over to Vera's chair. He snatched up the staff and walked over to Nash, clubbing him in the head.

Jim burst out laughing, almost dropping his cigar from his lips.

"Ow! Hey, what was that for?" Nash whined, rubbing his head.

Miryhn dropped the staff back in Vera's lap and leapt back onto the couch.

"I already said what it means, Nash. I said it means 'shut the fuck up, I'm trying to take a nap'," Miryhn explained, stretching out.

Nash grumbled to himself and went back to nail filing. Jim continued reading his book. Vera giggled and leaned her head back, finishing off the sports drink.

"What a bunch of weirdos we are," Vera said to herself.